Closing the Deal
By Missy Lyons
Revenge is a powerful motivator. After the millionaire playboy Bruce Withers tells his lawyer Dian Wright that he expects her to sleep with him or lose her job, she vows revenge no matter the cost. She flys to Nashville to close the real estate deal he wants in an attempt to get her job back or teach him a lesson in manners, only to meet the sexy twin heirs. She is drawn to them both with an unexplainable primal attraction that causes a little chaos, the opportunity for adventure, and the chance for revenge.
"How dare you ask me to do that? What you are suggesting I do is absolutely criminal, Mr. Withers." Dian Wright let her manicured nails rhythmically fall onto the boardroom table. They made a rolling, tapping sound in the otherwise quiet room. She didn't try to hide her irritation with the man across from her. She never did have a good poker face and she wasn't about to try now.
He had that GQ look that always turned her on, but now that she had gotten to know the man, he was repulsive to her. It actually made her skin crawl to listen to his voice, and she dreaded these meetings like the plague. Evading his roving hands was becoming more and more difficult.
"I need that property, Dian. I expect you to do whatever you have to, in order to get it." She didn't like the way he called her by her first name. That kind of assumed closeness annoyed her. She needed to put some space between him and her.
He had to be the rudest man she ever met.
"They have refused all the offers so far, Mr. Withers. There isn't much I can do about that," she replied curtly.
"Please, call me Bruce."
He reached across the table, laying his hand on hers, and stopped the repetitive movement of her fingers. He smiled as he said, "There's no need to be nervous, Dian. I want us to be very close friends."
"Friends? I'd rather not. I mean..." She paused a moment to compose herself. "I'm not sure I am comfortable calling you by your first name, Mr. Withers. I think I should make it clear that I would like to keep this on a professional level." She furrowed her eyebrows low over her eyes. She hoped he would catch her drift and remove his hand from hers.
He must have taken it as a challenge. He raised her hand to his lips, and gave the back of it a sloppy wet kiss. Dian snatched her hand back and wiped it in her lap, trying to keep the snarl from her lips.
"Mr. Withers, stop it!"
"What's the matter Dian?"
"You! Does your wife know you cheat on her?"
"We have an arrangement," he said simply, as if having an affair was no big deal to him.
"Well, maybe you should try arranging some time to sleep with her. It would help control some of these sexual urges you have."
"I asked to work with you, because I thought we could have some fun, too. It thought I made that clear in the beginning."
"Then you should have asked me whether I was interested in you or not."
"It's not like you are seeing anyone else. I asked. You don't have a boyfriend. So what's wrong with me? Did you sleep your way to the top? So now you think you don't have to sleep with me?"
"You asshole! This meeting is over. Find yourself another lawyer," Dian snarled. She gathered her briefcase and her Prada purse. She stood up quickly, pushing her chair away from the table. The miniskirt of her business suit was riding high, and she pulled the hem of her skirt lower to cover her legs. The man didn't need any more sexual encouragement.
"You walk out of here now and I'll make sure you never work in this town again."
"New York is a big city, Mr. Withers. Even you can't be that powerful. And I wouldn't be going around making promises you can't keep." Dian turned around, smiling one last time.
"Do you want to try me?"
"You know I may not be rich or powerful, but I make one hell of an enemy. I won't take your threats sitting down, Mr. Withers."
She swept across the room to the exit. Her hand was on the knob when he spoke again. His voice was no less threatening than the last time he opened his mouth.
"If you leave, you can consider yourself fired, Dian."
"Only my boss can fire me. Good day, Mr. Withers." Her voice was icy with her thinly veiled anger. In all her life she had never met someone so manipulative or as deceitful as him. And to be that good looking? It should be a crime. The man should look like a beast to help warn the ladies off.
It wasn't until she was in the elevator that she let herself think about what she was going to do. She had just made enemies of the most powerful men in New York City. A man like him could ruin her career.
She couldn't just throw away everything she fought so hard for just because of a man like that. No, a man like that deserved to be taught a lesson and she had an idea about how to do it.
She rummaged through her purse before finding her cell phone. Someday she would have to get a Bluetooth, one of those cordless ear phones. But she had not had time to break away from her hectic schedule to shopping. Of course, being newly fired would give her a lot of free time. She flipped open her phone and pressed the speed dial to her personal assistant to make arrangements for a direct flight to Nashville.
If this plan of hers didn't work she would be fired for losing the client. If it did work, it would buy her some bargaining room on keeping her job. And if that didn't get her job back, at least it would stop Mr. Withers from getting what he wanted. That was the one thing that mattered to her right now.
Somebody had to teach that man a lesson in manners.