Chapter Six: The Revision
Lincoln
Sienna sent over the first draft of the contract in the morning for my lawyer, Penelope, and me to look over. I couldn't look at it right away since I had that meeting with Thomas to fix the servers, and then I got lit up by Brock, my financial advisor, about spending as much as we did on Sienna's services. In hindsight, I should have run it by him first, but I needed to make sure Sienna said yes. She was the best shot at saving this company, so I made her an offer she couldn't refuse, even with my incorrigible flirtation during our first encounter.
After the annoying rant from Brock for at least an hour, I emailed Margo to schedule a time for Dylan, our operations manager, and me to talk next week regarding the upcoming renovations I plan to have on our hotels stationed in major cities.
I'm drained by this afternoon, so I text my mother to reschedule the blind date she had planned for me to have just as Margo pops her head into my office and says, "I looked over those logos and plans that Sienna came up with. She's brilliant."
"She is," I agree.
"Smart of her to add that clause in the contract, given your emails are now informal to each other."
I raise my eyes to hers. "What clause? And stay the hell out of my emails."
God, I can't wait for Thomas to fix that.
She smirks one of her devilish grins. "Section four, clause two. Have a nice meeting with her, boss."
A stream of explicit words spews from my mouth as she leaves the room and I open up the contract again in my email, going to the section specified.
II. Romantic Relationships.
All sexual and romantic relationships between a client and/or employee and their subordinate are strictly prohibited and will result in reassignment or termination so that the client and/or employee are no longer represented or employed by the subordinate. The subordinate has the right to terminate employment and/or contractual agreements if such events transpire.
I'm not entirely shocked at the clause. I know Sienna isn't the type of woman to sleep with just anyone, especially a client. Am I disappointed? Of course. Despite fighting the need to bend her over every time I see her, I think there was a small part of me that was hoping it could happen and would happen at some point.
I could tell that she wanted it too, so why deny herself the opportunity? Maybe she thinks I wouldn't want to sleep with someone I'm in business with, but hell. I offered to take her home when I first met her for crying out loud.
Sienna is trying to make this difficult. For whatever reason, she's fighting this attraction that she knows we both have. It's hard not to feel the pull between us. Whenever I'm in a two-foot radius of her I'm weak at the damn knees, and I know she can feel that. There's no way she can't. If she wants to play dirty, I can play dirtier, and a damn contract isn't going to stop me. That's what lawyers and revisions are for.
Yes, I need her to re-brand this business more than I think I've needed anything, but if I'm going to be around her with this fucking tension until the re-branding is over, I'm going to at least need to make sure there could be a possibility of winning her over.
"Margo, get Penelope on the phone please!" I call from my office.
I hear her laughing as she dials me in.
***
When I arrive at Sienna's office building, I wait at the receptionist's desk for her to come down, the contract and revisions in a manilla envelope tucked underneath my arm. She arrives not two minutes later, looking delectable as ever in another tight black skirt, this one coming about two inches above the knees, and another satin tank top that shows off those immaculate breasts of hers is tucked into it. She's got gold bracelets clattering on her wrists, her brown, caramel-streaked hair pulled up into a ponytail, and two pieces hanging down to frame her face. I drink every ounce of her in. Every single bit.
"Sienna," I say and nod in greeting, "always a pleasure."
SiennaSiennaSienna.
Her name sounds so good on my tongue.
I purposely didn't wear my suit jacket. The last time she kept gazing at the serpent curled up my chest, so I left two buttons of the dress shirt open today for her to see even more of me. I want those baby pink nails of hers to run all over it. I want her to stare at it for so long that she memorizes it by heart.
She clears her throat. "Lincoln," she rasps, "follow me."
I head toward the elevator with her, and as soon as those doors close, just the two of us inside, I inhale deeply, trying to keep my thoughts about her at bay. She's as far away from me as possible, and yet it feels like I'm right behind her, pressed up against that perfect tight ass. I push the thoughts out, but they remain. I'm imagining her back pressed against my chest, my hands running to the hem of that short skirt to push up it. Would she be wearing lace? Is she a lace girl, or cotton? I'd love to see her in lace. Red. Just like that tank top.
She clears her throat again when the elevator doors open, and she's making an effort to walk as fast as she can to her office, ignoring some of her employees that send awkward glances her way. When we're alone, she shuts the door behind her and darts around to the other side of her desk, as if that would stop me from shoving all of those papers to the floor and slamming her down right on it.
"I take it that's the contract?" She points to the envelope beneath my arm before I nod. "I'm assuming you need to make revisions?"
I sink into the leather chair and give her a tiny smile, crossing one of my legs over the other. "Just one. Section four, clause two."
She gulps. Loudly. I know it's because she added that to the contract recently, if not as soon as she met me. "What about it?"
Opening up the manilla envelope, I flip through the pages of the contract until I find the correct section and pass it over to her. Penelope wrote in red the revisions I wish to make.
II. Romantic Relationships.
All consenting sexual and romantic relationships between a client and/or employee and their subordinate must be disclosed. The subordinate has the right to terminate employment and/or contractual agreements if such events transpire.
She brings those hazel eyes of hers to mine, filled with nothing but curiosity and confusion. "Why did you need to make revisions to this?"
I shrug and lean back more in the chair, folding my arms behind my head. "In case."
"In case of what?"
I know she's not this naive. She can't be a billionaire and be this clueless. Sienna wants me to admit exactly why I'm revising this clause, but I won't give her the satisfaction. Not yet. Plus, I don't want her to end the contract between us if for whatever reason I'm crazy and she actually doesn't want to rip my clothes off as much as I want hers. "If I'm here going over your projects with you and a cute employee walks in that I want to get to know better, I'm certainly not going to want our contract to be over between our companies."
"Oh," she replies and darts her eyes down to the desk like she didn't think of that as being a possibility, "right. Not a problem. That can be revised."
I nod and lean forward to place the rest of the contract on her desk. Her breath catches, a sharp inhale that travels straight to my dick. I play it off and smile before I say, "What? Am I scaring you?"
"No," she says pointedly, "I just—"
Knocks on the door interrupt us before Sienna sighs and waves her in. The petite blonde from yesterday, her assistant, grows wide-eyed when she sees me, a faint blush appearing on her cheeks.
"Yes, Rachel?" Sienna snaps, and from the look on the assistant's face, I can tell she doesn't speak to her like this often.
"Um, sorry, I-I just wanted to tell you that the seating chart was finished for the party this weekend, and that client we were waiting for a response from on their attendance declined. You told me to find you as soon as I heard."
I arch a brow, intrigued. "A party?"
Sienna mutters a few obscurities under her breath then plasters a fake smile on her face. "Once a year, on my company's anniversary, I throw a party to congratulate everyone on another successful year." Then she looks at Rachel. "We already paid for their plate, but it's fine. Just arrange the tables accordingly so it doesn't look like an empty hole please."
"Clients are invited?" I ask.
Sienna scowls. "Yes, but seeming how your contract isn't signed yet—"
"It will be, though, and you're needing a person to fill the empty seat, right? I'd be delighted to attend."
Rachel glances hesitantly at Sienna, almost as if she can visibly see the steam piping out of her ears as I hold back a laugh from how blatantly obvious her hatred is for me at this moment. I'm assuming she doesn't want me to come because she doesn't want to be tempted. Alcohol will be involved, and she knows just as well as I do what a mistake that could be for us. Well, a mistake for her. An absolute honor for me.
"Fine," Sienna concedes with another fake smile, "add him to the list. Lincoln Nash."
The blonde nods excitedly, lingering her eyes on me for a beat too long again. "Excellent. It'll be a pleasure to have you, Mr. Nash."
With a wink she hides from Sienna to notice, she leaves to add my name to the guest list before I rise from the chair and give Sienna a playboy grin of mine, one she hasn't seen yet. Sienna fidgets in her seat and clears her throat. "I'll have my lawyer make these revisions and send the final draft over. It more than likely won't be until Monday though since it's Friday."
"Perfect. I look forward to—"
Another knock before a man steps inside her office wearing a suit that's a size too big for his tall, lanky body. His eyes narrow slightly toward me before he sends Sienna a soft smile, one that lets me know there's a history of some sort between them. "Hey, do you have time to go over the AD for Soul Chic? The campaign launches next month, and I wanted to spring some ideas to—"
"Can it wait?" Sienna blurts, and it's not until I look at her that I realize her face has completely paled. The woman that is so fierce, witty, and confident is nowhere to be seen. In seconds, her hands are shaking slightly, her teeth gnawing on her bottom lip.
What the hell did this guy do to her? And why are my hands suddenly balled up into fists?
"Oh, yeah," he replies, glancing at me again, "did I interrupt something?"
Sienna looks as if she wants to be anywhere but here right now. Her eyes are wide and pleading when I stare at her again. It seems like she's asking me to save her right now, and I don't know if I'm reading that correctly or not, but I offer her an out anyway and say, "Actually, yes. I had just asked if she wanted to go for lunch with me."
He arches a brow at Sienna as if asking for clarification.
"Yes," Sienna answers, rising to her feet and grabbing her purse from the bookshelf beside her. "Reed, this is Lincoln Nash, CEO of Nash Hotels, and Nash, this is Reed Clemmons, my AD campaign manager."
He sizes me up as he gives me too tight of a handshake, almost warning me to back off, but I grip even harder, causing him to wince. What the hell happened between these two? Is she dating him? I mean, I wouldn't doubt it. He's attractive in that nerdy type of way. Curly hair, large-rimmed glasses, but a sharp jawline and perfectly straight teeth. If this is Sienna's type, then maybe I am reading into things between us, because I'm the complete opposite of Reed.
"I'm sure we'll be working together soon," I tell him. "I'm partnering with Stone Media Management to rebrand my company, so I'm assuming you'll be handling the AD campaign."
I can't tell if he's shocked or angry. "Well, you couldn't have chosen better."
"Indeed. Sienna is incredible."
He stiffens at that, and with a curt nod, he leaves her office to go back to wherever it was he came from.
When I turn to face Sienna, she's collected herself on the outside, but I can still see her quick breathing. My immediate reaction is to pull her close to me, but then I realize I'm insane and ask instead, "Are you okay?"
She shakes her head. "Is that offer for lunch still on the table? I just...need some fresh air, I think."
An unfamiliar warmth bubbles in my chest at the unexpected lunch date I'll get to have with Sienna. She still seems shaken up, and I don't want to risk a sexual harassment case, so rather than pull her into me as I first wanted to do, I place my hand on the small of her back to lead her back towards the elevator.
Thankfully, she doesn't stray from my touch but rather leans into my hand as I guide her past the employees. The heat of her body is intoxicating. The feel of this satin tank top ignites a fire inside of me that I didn't even know was there as we step inside the elevator. Now should be the time I remove my hand, but she continues to lean against it, like the safety of me being beside her is comforting.
I don't realize it until the doors open again, but I've started to rub small circles against her back, and almost like she realizes it too, she steps out of my embrace and pushes a strand that fell loose from her ponytail behind her ear. "What are you in the mood for?" she asks.
Certainly not food I think to myself, but again, I can't say that. Not until I know for certain she wants this too. I can't risk the contract falling through. For now, I have the entire afternoon with her, and I'm going to run with it as much as I can.
I'm excited to see what the rest of the day has in store.