Reid: Vested Interest #4 Read online

  Our eyes locked. Maddox’s gaze was shrewd, but not unkind.

  “What did you do with the money, Reid?” he asked quietly.

  “I gave it back.”

  One eyebrow rose in disbelief. “You had it for over six months. Fifteen million yields a lot of interest in that time frame.”

  “They got it back with interest. The same rate they were making when I ‘borrowed’ it.”

  “And you expect me to believe someone as smart as you had it in a safe place making minimal interest?” He ran a finger along his chin. “Especially once you were arrested and were facing jail time?”

  I was about to tell him to fuck off. He was a numbers man and smart. He had already figured it out. I knew I had lost my shot at the job, so I had nothing left to lose. I glared at him, furious he had gotten to me. Furious that I had allowed my hopes to grow when I knew better. He would never give me a chance to work at BAM.

  Crappy jobs and an equally shitty life were all I had, and all I would ever have because of my past.

  “I put it in bitcoin. I paid them back every penny they were due. The rest of the interest I kept and it’s still in either bitcoin, or various long-term plans. Every month, someone receives a donation to help feed their kids. Buy them new clothes. Get out of an abusive relationship—whatever they need it for. They never know where it comes from, and they never will. I got nothing then. I get nothing now. I wanted nothing. But once the fuckers decided to make an example out of me, I made sure someone got something good out of it.” I stood, pushing back my chair, the bitterness almost choking me. “Thanks for your time. I won’t take up any more of it.”

  I made it to the elevator, pushing the button repeatedly. I had to get out of there before I broke down. I didn’t even stop to say goodbye to the nice woman, Sandy. I had liked her and looked forward to knowing her more. I had wanted to get to know them all more. I couldn’t believe how badly I had wanted the job. The disappointment was crushing.

  “Reid!” Aiden grabbed my arm before I could step into the elevator. “Hold up.”

  I shook off his grip. “What?”

  He grinned, shaking his head. “A bit of a hothead, aren’t you?”

  “What you do want, Mr. Callaghan?”

  “For you to come back into the boardroom and finish the interview.”

  I ran a weary hand over my face. “I thought I was finished.”

  “Nope. We have a couple more questions, and you’ll have to meet with HR and sign some papers.”

  I grabbed the side of the elevator, my knees threatening to buckle. “What did you say?”

  He pulled me out of the elevator, leading me down the hall. “You’re in, kid. I like you. You’re exactly what I need, and even Maddox likes you, despite your temper. He wants to know more about bitcoin and how you got so smart about investing. Numbers fascinate him. Bentley might be unhappy, but he’ll come around.”

  “Are you shitting me?”

  He stopped at the boardroom door. “No. You want a chance? I’m gonna give it to you. Maddox and I are putting ourselves on the line for you, Reid. Do you understand?”

  “I won’t let you down.”

  “I know.”

  “Why are you doing this?”

  Aiden paused, his hand on the door. “I checked you out, Reid. You’ve had a shit life. I get that.” He tilted his head toward the boardroom. “We both get that. We believe in second chances, because we both got one.” He eyed me sternly. “You are gonna have stipulations and guidelines.”

  “I can work within your boundaries.”

  “You are gonna work hard.”

  “Not an issue.”

  “I will be all over you if I suspect anything but your best.”

  “Noted.”

  “And here’s a tip—all the cursing isn’t the best interview technique. But we’re cool.”

  Unabashed, I grinned. “Sorry, my mouth runs faster than my brain sometimes.”

  “I can’t wait to see you in action.” He clapped me on the shoulder. “Let’s go, kid.”

  I followed him, knowing that my life was about to change.

  I loved my job. I threw myself into it wholeheartedly. I worked mostly with Aiden, but Maddox was often part of my meetings, Bentley joining in on rare occasions. I was one of four IT people, all of us answering to Aiden since the head of the department had recently left.

  After a week of working nonstop, I went to Aiden, showing him some huge gaps in their system and ways to improve the performance and firewalls. He put me in charge of the project, and a month later, gave me the job as lead guy in IT.

  With the pay increase, I found my little apartment and was able to begin to enjoy life. When Bentley’s girlfriend, Emmy, was kidnapped, Aiden came to me, asking for my help.

  “Whatever you need to do, Reid . . . I know you’re banned from hacking, but forget it. Break any law—I will cover you. Do you understand? I need her home and safe.”

  Once that happened, again, my life changed. Bentley’s gratitude knew no bounds. A corner office, a new title, and access to all the equipment and software I could dream of. Those alone made me happy.

  The massive wage increase was the icing on the cake. But the best thing of all was the sense of finally finding my place. I was one of them. Not on a wealth scale, but as their friend. A trusted ally. It was their trust I valued the most. Their faith in me. They had my back as much as I had theirs. When Maddox needed my help, I was glad to be able to return the favor of his trust. We had gotten closer during my time with BAM, but it cemented our relationship. I felt as if I was no longer alone in the world. I had three brothers, whom I would do anything for, and I knew they felt the same in return.

  Life was good.

  I glanced at my watch, picked up the heavy bag, and slung it over my shoulder. It was time to go to Becca’s.

  Now, if I could take my brothers’ advice and man up, life would be great.

  Reid

  ON MY WAY to Becca’s, I stopped to pick up coffee again. The old woman was outside puttering around her pails of flowers. When she saw me, her face creased into a deep smile.

  “Your girl, she like the daisies?”

  “Very much.”

  “You see her today?”

  “Yes.”

  She plucked a single lily from a pail. “You give her this. Beautiful.”

  I took the single stalk. It was heavy with blossoms, the deep pink and white color majestic. I dug into my pocket, but she held up her hand.

  “No. Not today. I give to you, you give to her.”

  With a grin, I leaned down and kissed her cheek. She patted my face with a smile so wide, her eyes disappeared.

  “Good boy,” she muttered. “Go see your girl.”

  I grinned and made my way to Becca’s. She opened her door, gasping in delight when I presented her the flower with a flourish.

  “Milady.”

  This time, I got the kiss on the cheek. Her lips were soft, and they lingered on my skin. I had to resist turning my head to feel her mouth on mine.

  I followed her down the hall, once again admiring her pert ass. She had a towel flung over her shoulder, and I noticed the dampness on her skin. I thought she had just come out of the shower until I walked into the open area of her apartment and saw the pole.

  Holy shit.

  Becca had a stripper pole. A real, actual stripper pole. And she had been using it this morning.

  “Oh God,” I uttered. “You weren’t joking.”

  She slid the lily into a tall, slender vase. “No. It’s great for core workouts.” She indicated her laptop on the counter. “I take online classes. I ordered a new pole and it arrived yesterday, so I set it up last night after you left.” She laughed lightly. “I’m a bit out of practice.”

  “Oh,” I croaked, trying desperately to stop the barrage of images floating through my head. Becca on the pole, graceful and sensuous, her body fluid and supple. Becca dancing for me. Me grabbing Becca off the pole and
pulling down her leggings. Becca under me writhing and moaning.

  Shaking my head to clear it, I had to turn away as my cock decided he liked the images far too much.

  “I-I hope I didn’t interrupt.”

  “Nope. All done.”

  I cleared my throat and handed her a coffee, grateful the counter was separating us. I pointed to the pole. “Is it, ah, safe?”

  “Oh yes. I can’t do every movement since it’s not anchored the same way as in a studio, but I use it more for the exercise than the extreme moves, you know?”

  “Uh-huh,” I muttered.

  “It’s not like anyone sees me, and I’m certainly not planning a career as a stripper.” She paused with a wink. “Unless, of course, my job at BAM doesn’t work out.”

  I gaped at her, then realized she was teasing. I chuckled. “Well, let’s hope it goes well.”

  She leaned on the counter, the damp cotton of her T-shirt sticking to her body, and her position mashing her breasts together. I swallowed, trying not to stare at the perfection of her tits.

  “Would you come see me, Reid? If I did?” she asked, her voice pitched low.

  “If you did?” I asked stupidly.

  “If I had to pole dance for a living?”

  The thought of her on a pole in front of other people—men—ogling her, made me stiffen with jealous rage. Nobody was seeing her on that pole except me.

  “I’d buy every dance,” I said through gritted teeth. “Every night.”

  She stood, lifting her cup to her mouth. A smile played on her lips. “Okay, then.”

  I nodded. “Okay, then.”

  “Shall we put up the shelves?”

  I drained my coffee. “Yeah.”

  Becca

  Reid Matthews was a complete mystery to me. I had never met anyone like him. The day he stumbled into the boardroom, he had captured my attention. His wild hair, ragged T-shirt, and jeans were so out of place in the business setting, but I soon forgot about that when he began to speak. He had a low, deep voice that was hypnotic. He used his hands as he spoke, drawing attention to his long fingers and wide palms. He yanked off his glasses when making a point, his hazel eyes swirling blue and green under the lights. He was well-spoken and smart, and his knowledge of computer components, operating systems, and how everything worked together evident. When asked a question pertaining to anything business-related, he was brilliant. But when it became personal, he changed, drawing into himself. His smile was tentative, his words chosen carefully, and his demeanor guarded. I wanted to know why.

  Often, I caught him staring at me during meetings, but his gaze would skitter away. Before I arrived in Toronto, he had been in constant contact, calling and texting me daily about the oddest things to do with my computer needs and things for my office. I found it endearing and always tried to extend our chats, but once I became personal, he shut down.

  He was the first person I saw the day I walked into BAM to begin my job as a liaison for The Gavin Group. He was standing in his office doorway, his intense gaze focused on the door when I entered. The expression on his face when he saw me made my heart stutter. It was open and welcoming. He showed me around the office, excitedly presenting the incredible system he had set up for me, pointing out all the different features of the monitors and programs he had installed. He stood behind my chair, leaning over me as he tapped on the keyboard.

  “It’s amazing, Reid,” I exclaimed. “Thank you for doing all this for me.”

  Our eyes met and held. He was close enough I could smell his scent. It was clean and masculine. Fresh-cut cedar and pine. It suited him. The thick, dark glasses he wore emphasized his heavy brows and the beautiful color of his irises. His jaw was sharp, covered in scruff, and his bottom lip fuller than the top one. I wondered if it would be soft if I ran my tongue over it.

  My breathing hitched at the thought, and I inched closer, stretching my face toward him.

  Reid’s eyes widened and he stood, running a hand over the back of his neck in a nervous gesture. “Okay, I’ll let you get on with things. I’ve bothered you long enough.”

  Without a thought, I laid my hand on his arm. “You haven’t bothered me at all, Reid.”

  His gaze jumped from my hand to my face and back again. He stepped away.

  “If you need me, I’m down the hall. Next door. Right there.” He pointed to the right, then turned in the opposite direction and hurried away.

  His reaction had mystified me, and I realized I had probably crossed a line. Since that day, I had only become more confused. He was hot and cold. Some days, I was certain he was as interested in me as I was in him, and others, I was sure I had only imagined the spark between us. There were moments I swore he was going to grab me and kiss me.

  And I wanted him to. So much. But he never did.

  I saw him a lot. My computer seemed to have a lot of glitches that only he could fix. If I had a question or anything I needed, he was the first to help me, always seeming to be close by. But that was it. He never took my hints at dinner together or even lunch. My attempts to draw him out personally failed every time. I resorted to accidentally jamming my printer, freezing my computer, and loosening the connections on the fancy monitors he had installed on my desk.

  Still, we went nowhere—until Maddox informed me, he wanted the apartment to have the security system and programs installed that Reid was working on for Ridge Towers. When Reid had come to see me about it, I was certain he was as excited as I was. He had shown up last night with flowers and coffee. We had talked and laughed, and his reaction to my stripper pole comment was hilarious—although he had left not long after it occurred.

  His retort to my question this morning was surprising and telling. His eyes had narrowed, his expression intense. His fingers curled around the paper cup, holding it tightly as he informed me in a voice that made me shiver, he would buy every dance. It sounded possessive.

  I liked it.

  I watched him move around my apartment, eyeing the right spot for the shelves. He reached into the pocket of his duffel bag for a pencil. I tried not to ogle his ass, but it was impossible. It was a great ass. His entire body was great—tall, lean, yet muscular. I had felt his strength when he hugged me once.

  I wanted to feel it again.

  I knew he worked out with Aiden. I heard them joking in the hall about their routines and Aiden whooping his ass. Once I had seen him coming upstairs from a workout, a towel draped around his neck. His wife-beater was soaked with sweat, his skin damp. I could see the effects his sessions with Aiden were having on his body. His chest was broader, the muscles in his arms defined and thick. His body was toned and hard. His hair was a mess, and his shorts hung low on his hips and showed off his powerful legs. He was sexy and relaxed, and the grin he had thrown my way before he disappeared into his office for a shower made me want to follow him and help him in that shower. And by help, I meant rip off his shorts and swallow his cock until he screamed my name.

  “Becca?”

  I shook my head to clear my lust-induced fog. “Sorry?”

  Reid tilted his head, his hair falling over his brow. “Are you okay? You’re looking at me funny.”

  “Oh, sorry. I was thinking about, ah, something that I’d like to do.”

  “Do you need me to come back another time?”

  “What? No. No, I’ll get to it later. What were you asking?”

  “Do you want all four shelves here?”

  “Um, no. Two over my desk and two on that wall.”

  He brushed his hair off his forehead. It fell right back into the same spot and I chuckled.

  “I think you need a haircut.”

  “I know. Sandy keeps badgering me to get one. I get busy and forget.”

  “She’s sort of a den mother, isn’t she?”

  He laughed, drawing a faint line with the level. “She’s the closest thing I have ever had to a mother.”

  “Oh?” I asked.

  He stopped and looked over
his shoulder. “I was in foster care all of my life, Becca. I’d never had a real home or a family until I found BAM.”

  His words hit me in the chest. The pain evident in his quiet voice told me more than a scream ever could.

  “Reid, I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

  “Of course, you wouldn’t. It’s fine, really.”

  I hated the ache I heard in his words and tried to find a lighter note. “I could cut your hair.”

  The level wobbled and he turned. “What?”

  “I could cut your hair. I always cut my dad’s. I trim mine.”

  “You cut your dad’s hair?”

  “Yeah. My mom always did it for him, but after she died, I took over.”

  He edged closer and grabbed my hand. “Your mom died?”

  “When I was ten. She had a brain aneurysm. She was fine one day and gone the next.”

  He squeezed my hand. “I’m sorry.”

  “It was only my dad and me after that. I tried to fill in, you know. I learned how to cook and helped him with the house stuff . . .” My voice trailed off, and I shrugged.

  “And cut his hair.”

  “Yeah. So, I could cut yours, if you wanted,” I added, unsure about the look on his face. “To say thanks for the shelves.”

  He stared at me, squeezed my hand again, and a grin broke out on his face. “Yeah, I want.”

  “Okay.”

  He turned back to the wall and picked up his drill. “Okay, let’s get this done.”

  My gaze swept the room. “Reid, it looks great!”

  The shelves were up, perfect and level. He had hung my pictures patiently, never once complaining when I changed my mind or asked him to try a different spot. He carried in the two boxes I had of books and knickknacks from the storage closet and helped me unwrap them. One by one, he handed me each piece, as I placed and moved them until they were in the right spot. After we were done, he broke down the boxes and took them to the recycle bin without question.