Wrong Brother, Right Man. Kat Cantrell
“Remember, a lot of the people involved with LBC are volunteers.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Xavier’s scowl could have peeled paint from the walls if there’d been any. Instead, they were covered with this odd wood-grain paneling that always reminded Val of his father’s lawyer’s office. “Are you implying that I might drive them off?”
“Yeah, that’s not even a remote possibility, is it?” The sarcasm might have been a little thick, but come on. Xavier had to realize how he came across. “We do a lot of compromising at LBC. Some months are leaner than others. We try to maintain an even influx of capital but, when you’re dependent on donations, you can’t plan as well. Remember that flexibility is your friend.”
“I’ll keep that in mind. Try not to make more of a mess than I can conceivably clean up, all right?”
“Well, there go all my plans to flush my inheritance down the toilet.” Val shrugged as if he didn’t care, which was how he’d long played it with those in his family who saw him as nothing but a dreamer, who couldn’t cut it in the corporate world. Which might be less of a stretch than he’d have credited before today. “Hey, if I screw up, you’re still good. Just do your thing, and you’ll have half a billion dollars to play with.”
“Yeah, that’s comforting.” Xavier pulled a pen from the holder at the corner of the desk and pocketed it. “That was a gift from the daughter of a Russian ambassador. I wouldn’t want to lose track of it.”
Val snorted. As if stealing pens from LeBlanc was one of his top priorities. “Sabrina’s due any minute, FYI. Make yourself scarce unless you want to say hello.”
“You think it bothers me if you sleep with her?”
“I didn’t until now,” Val lied. “Do tell.”
“She’s frigid, man. You’ll have better luck with the president of Botswana than you will with her.”
“Wanna bet?” Val asked pleasantly because, while Sabrina dripped ice cubes as a matter of course, the glimpses of heat between them had kept him awake far longer last night than it probably should have.
And the stakes had gone up. Xavier was still pissed about Sabrina dumping him, which meant Val was doubly interested in rubbing it in his brother’s face when he did score.
His brother shook his head. “We’ve got enough on the line already, don’t you think? Besides, if you do bag her, it can only help you.”
“And perhaps you should consider that the reason she dumped you is because you’re an ass. I’m not,” Val shot back, a little more hotly than he’d intended, but the sentiment was warranted. Sabrina was a lot of things but not a faceless notch on the bed post. No woman in Val’s rearview was. He loved being with all the women he’d slept with, loved learning their bodies, their laughs. Quantity did not preclude quality. The more the merrier.
“Which is going to bite you,” Xavier informed him. “Bleeding hearts aren’t her type. They don’t increase profits eight percent, even in six years, let alone six months.”
“We’ll see about that.” Val’s confidence might be a little misplaced, given that his one foray into The Buck Stops Here mentality had made him sick to his stomach. “Maybe some heart is what this company needs.”
“And maybe a solid hand is what LBC needs.” Xavier smirked.
Val’s stomach turned over again. His staff would be fine. They knew not to fold under his brother’s dictatorial style. Somehow, reminding himself of that didn’t make him feel any better. “You’d do well to leave your Tom Ford suits at home and dig into LBC’s mission statement with an open mind.”
His brother flipped him a smartass salute and strode out of the office without a backward glance. Good riddance. Val scrubbed at his face with his hands and trashed the unpalatable coffee without taking a second sip. Maybe he could duck out for twenty minutes and make it to Fuel for Humans Coffee near LBC’s main facility before anyone else showed up.
“Ahh, I see we’re taking our CEO position seriously today.”
Sabrina strolled through the door Xavier had vacated mere minutes before, looking far too fresh and untouchable given the hour. A temperature drop accompanied her as if she’d tucked the Snow Queen into her clutch in order to unleash winter upon the hapless souls in her wake.
Of course, the logical explanation lay with the pronounced hum of the air conditioner. But he liked his version better. What fun was life if you couldn’t see the fanciful in the everyday?
Speaking of his overactive imagination, if she’d been in Val’s bed last night—which he’d envisioned more times than he could count—they’d still be there, and her hair would be tousled from his fingers instead of wound up in that severe bun thing. Seeing her in the flesh doubled his resolve to get to that point. Soon.
“Good morning to you too,” he greeted her gallantly. “I was about to go get some coffee around the corner. Come with me.”
“We can’t leave.”
She crossed her arms over the kelly-green knit top she wore under a classy white suit, the skirt of which hit just above her knees. It shouldn’t have been as sexy as it was, but Sabrina was one of those rare women who had such an arresting vibe that you scarcely noticed what she was wearing. Her appeal came from somewhere beneath, and his mouth wanted to uncover her secrets.
After Xavier’s welcome to LeBlanc, Sabrina’s frost needed to go.
“On the contrary, I’m the CEO. I can do whatever I want. Right?”
“Have coffee delivered, then,” she said with raised eyebrows. “We have a four-week plan to go over.”
Lazily, he spun his chair as he contemplated her, the coaching plan suddenly very far down his list of things to do today. “Only four weeks?”
“We have to start somewhere. At the end of four weeks, I can make some assessments about where we are in your progress, then make adjustments. I have no idea how well you’re going to take suggestions or what you’ll do with my feedback. It will do me no good to have spent time on a six-month plan if you ignore everything I say.”
“So far, you haven’t said much,” he countered. “And if you truly wanted to know how well I respond to suggestion, you should have had dinner with me last night.”
Her expression didn’t change, but her gaze flicked over his face. “Because you expect me to spit out commands of a sexual variety on a first date?”
Oh, man. She was far more charmed by him than she knew what to do with. Excellent. He grinned. “Because I had planned to ask you what you wanted me to cook for you. But I like the direction of your thoughts so much better. Now that we’ve opened that Pandora’s box, what commands would you give?”
“Oh, no.” She shook her head, the hard cross of her arms tightening over her midsection. She must not have realized that action had pulled her blouse down a half inch, displaying a very lovely section of her breasts. “We’re not going there today, Val.”
“You started it, not me.” He held up his hands in mock surrender to distract from the sharp little number this whole exchange was doing on his lower half. Didn’t work. But, then, he was starting to think nothing would, except the obvious.
“We have a professional relationship. If we can’t stick to that, then you can find another executive coach.”
Her expression had none of the heat from yesterday. He was failing with her today, for some unknown reason.
With that warning ringing in his ears, Val sobered. Those contacts with the Botswana government still lay prominently in the center of his desk and, as reminders went of how he’d go down in flames without her, that was a stark one. “I take this very seriously. Please forgive me. Let’s go over your plan.”
She rolled her eyes. “And