Tori Carrington - Private Sessions

Bryna whipped the covers back and maneuvered her bare legs over the side of the bed, paying little mind that her simple cotton nightgown was bunched up around her thighs. She reached for her cell on the nightstand and clicked it open. No calls. No texts. She closed it again and put it back down and then padded across the large room toward the connecting bathroom.

Friday night it had taken all of her will after getting into that cab not to direct the driver to turn around and follow the limo instead. The reaction had surprised her. She’d never met a man who’d gotten under her skin to such a mind-robbing degree. She wanted to feel his hands on her. Wanted to put her mouth on him. Wanted to spend the night exploring the seeds of sensation their dinner together had planted in her. So much so that to prevent herself from pursuing him the next day, she’d driven back to Earnest for the night when usually she drove up Sunday morning for family brunch.

Within twenty minutes Bryna was showered and dressed in a white slacks and a purple short-sleeved blouse, no less bothered than she’d been when she’d awakened. But determined to shake off the peculiar feelings any which way she could.

She slid into her sandals and went downstairs. It was nine and brunch wasn’t until ten-thirty, but she wasn’t surprised when she found her uncle Percy and Troy already up and on the back deck enjoying coffee.

“Good morning.” She kissed her uncle on the check and squeezed her cousin’s shoulder as she passed on the way to the chair next to him.

“Well, good morning to you, too,” Percy said, folding the business section of the paper and placing it on the table. “Nice to see you here so early.”

“I actually came in last night,” she said, pouring herself a cup of coffee.

“Oh? Any particular reason for that?”

Just that she couldn’t seem to get a maddening man out of her mind, that’s all. “No. Just decided I’d like to wake up at home this morning, that’s all.”

And the grand ol’ estate was that, wasn’t it? All 800 acres of land and 25,000 square feet of house. Plenty of room for them all to reside without living on top of each other.

Home. It was odd, sometimes, to think that for her it had once been a simpler place just outside Seattle. The past twelve years since her parents’ deaths, this had been where her old grade cards, school photographs and swim meet medals were stored. This sweeping mansion that sat on a hill overlooking the town of Earnest. And no matter how much she claimed independence, this was where she went when she needed to find peace. When she needed to touch base with her foundation.

And it was her uncle Percy and cousins Troy and Ari who were her immediate family. They were always there for her.

“Have you added enough sugar?” Troy asked now.

Bryna looked at where she was stirring in yet another teaspoonful. She frowned and took a sip, making a face.

“Uh-oh. Looks like man troubles to me.”

They all turned as the more outspoken of them had stepped out onto the deck.

Ari.

Bryna smiled and then grimaced. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but you usually have to have a man in order for there to be any kind of trouble, don’t you?”

“Not necessarily.” Ari reached over her and plucked a grape from a bunch on a tray. “Trouble enters when you want a man you can’t have.”

Troy rustled his section of the Seattle Times. “Look who’s the expert suddenly.”

Bryna looked behind Ari. Could it be he’d come to the brunch alone this week? She knew a spot of hope.

Then Elena came outside, apologizing for her delay. “I’m not even showing yet, but I swear my bladder is the size of a pea.”

Bryna frowned as she watched the other woman greet her uncle the same way she had and then say good morning to Troy, who actually grinned at her.

Where was the animosity? The anger?

Oh, well. It looked as if the job would have to fall to her. When the other woman took the chair next to her, Bryna focused solely on her coffee.

Even she admitted to being surprised at her reaction to her cousin’s intended … especially since Elena was pregnant with what they all hoped would be the first of the next Metaxas generation. But so much had been riding on that deal with Philippidis. To just throw it all away because of a woman was unthinkable to her.

She frowned. If only Elena would have kept her legs closed, and her hand on her ex-groom’s arm, right now the first production line would be running and the second would be under construction, employing at least two hundred of the town’s hurting residents.

The thought made her mind drift back to Caleb and her own conflicted feelings for him.

Of course, the difference lay in that she wasn’t engaged to marry someone else so no one would be hurt if things spiraled out of control and then went south.

She swallowed hard.

Other than herself, that is….

WAS IT TIME YET?

Caleb looked at his watch as the presentation dragged on. There were ten men in the room for the weekly Wednesday meeting that had been scheduled for that morning, then delayed until afternoon because Manolis Philippidis was late flying in.

He glanced at the modern-day Greek tycoon at the end of the table. Manolis held a small coffee cup in his meaty fingers, his dark eyes on the acquisitions head who was talking about the pros and cons of buying a small business out of Minnesota that made public buses that ran on natural gas.

The new business was green business.

He looked at his watch again.

“Are we keeping you from something, Caleb?” Manolis asked, interrupting the speaker.

He sat back, grinning easily. “No. Not at all.”

“Perhaps we’re boring you, then?”

Caleb’s smile grew tight.

It was well-known that there was no love lost between the two men. Which was why Caleb had never worked directly for him. Would never hand that kind of power to a man who would just as soon fire you as look at you.

No. Caleb liked that he was a well-paid consultant to the company. A very well-paid consultant. Which sometimes required him to sit through trying meetings that had nothing to do with him. And suffer a man who was otherwise insufferable.

“To the contrary. I was thinking about the three other more viable gas-powered bus ventures that are looking for investors rather than to be bought outright.” He raised a brow. “Would you like me to continue? Or shall we get back to the meeting agenda?”

As expected, Manolis glowered at him, finished off his coffee and then looked at his own watch. “I believe this meeting is concluded.”

If there was one man who hated wasting time as much as Caleb it was Philippidis.

The Greek stood and everyone else at the table hurried to do the same. All but for Caleb, who took his time getting to his feet.

He extended his hand toward Manolis, who shook it. “You have information on these other companies? “

“I sent proposals to the ventures head a month ago.”

Manolis nodded. “Let him know I want to hear more about them at next month’s meeting.”

“Very well.”

The other man straightened his tailor-made suit jacket as if having just made an important decision and muttered his goodbyes before leaving the room.

Caleb followed him out, heading directly for his own office.

“Has …” he began as he neared Nancy’s desk.

She interrupted. “Miss Metaxas is waiting in your office, as you directed, sir.”

The sun had just emerged from the heavy gray clouds.

BRYNA READ THE SPINES of the books in the cases that lined Caleb’s office. Business tomes were interspaced with leather-bound classic fiction novels and philosophy titles. She wondered if he’d read them or if they’d come by way of a professional decorator. He was, after all, a consultant with the Philippidis company, meaning this wasn’t his permanent office, but rather a temporary one.