Power Play by Tara Lynn

He hadn’t attended a single meeting, just sent in a vice president from his in-house accounting team.
    No, it was a good thing he wasn’t around. Even after years of deconditioning, I couldn't trust I wouldn't slowly just defer to his seniority.
    Even if I didn’t, socking a client wasn’t exactly going to get people to stop talking.
    Ok, even if I hit him in private, it wasn’t like I could crack the powerful cliffs of his cheek. I'd just end up cupping his face.
    That'd just give him an excuse to scoop me up in his arms. He'd probably punish me for it, right here on the desk. It wouldn't matter at all to him that our winding silhouettes would be obvious to anyone who walked past the fogged glass walls. He’d do whatever he wanted to me.
    Someone rapped once on the door.
    I startled from my nightmare of a daydream. Even with Deacon out of sight, my traitorous mind just kept leading me further into Deacon’s grasp.
    “Come in,” I said, brushing my shirt down.
    Trey strode in, an immaculate slate suit draping off his long, lean form. He could have crashed a Houston Rockets post-game press conference and not looked out of place. Or he could have just as easily crashed a Harvard economics lecture. The guy was really smart.
    “I've got the files you requested,” he said. He fanned himself with a brown folder just a shade lighter than his face.
    Oh, good, something real to be annoyed about. “Habibi Solar sent you a paper copy?” I said. “Are you serious?”
    “Some of the guys in the Middle East are old school when it comes to existing contracts.”
    “Or they're hiding something.”
    His lips trembled then stilled. “It’d surprise me if they are.”
    Of course it would. He’d done all this work already. It’d taken one meeting for it to be clear that he wasn’t expecting much from us. My team and I were just actors in a really dull improv skit.
    Though maybe that was because I’d gone and shut Deacon down with a ‘no’ instead of a ‘yes, and.’
    “It’s always good to be skeptical,” I said.
    “Sure enough. That’s what you’re here for.”
    He handed me the folder. My fingers brushed his palm as I grasped it. His skin was rougher than his manicured hands and his VP title suggested. Not exactly cowboy hands, but not completely moneyed ones either.
    I took a fresh glance at him. He wasn’t old at all. He could be Deacon’s leaner twin if they were the same color.
    “Can I ask you something?” I said.
    He chuckled. “You’ve asked me more since you walked in than the rest of your team combined.”
    “This is more personal.”
    “I see.” His eyes glowed like copper. “Go on.”
    “How long have you been working here?”
    “Stone Holdings? Two years.”
    “Two years! You’re a VP in two years?”
    He rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s not the first time it’s happened. Deacon’s father got a couple guys to shoot up too.”
    I nodded. He was no simple liaison. He was one of their best guys. Just like we were our firm’s top consultants. Why was he being wasted on a useless project?
    But then his words made sense.
    “Deacon’s father had a couple guys,” I said. “Does that make you Deacon’s guy?”
    It should have made him puff up. No guy wanted to belong to someone else. But he shrugged. “You could say that. I wouldn’t be a VP in any other damn company, that’s for sure.”
    “But are you guys close?”
    His eyes went slender. He adjusted forward. “We hang. Why? You need to reach him?”
    “No!” I snapped to my screen as if something had popped up. “I just wanted to know who exactly I’m dealing with.”
    “Will I do, then?”
    God, what had gotten into me? This guy was my boss here. I was being way too informal. “Of course. Sorry.”
    He watched me a moment longer, then shoved up out of his seat, much the same way that Deacon did. Maybe they really were twins somehow.
    “Holler at me if you need anything more,” he said, clicking the door shut behind