The Garrisons: Parker, Brittany & Stephen: The CEO's Scandalous Affair

Anna wasn’t entirely sure she wanted this much information, but couldn’t help asking, “What happened?”

“What always happens,” Sheila said with a world-weary exhale. “He got laid and I got canned.”

“Oh.”

Sheila nodded knowingly. “But, hey, it was fun while it lasted. That guy could…” She shook her head while she measured the coffee. “Let’s just say he taught me some tricks that every girl should know.”

“Would answering the phone be one of them?” Parker’s voice was thick with sarcasm, eliciting a tiny gasp of surprise from Anna and a snort from Sheila. “Because my line just bounced from the main switchboard to voice mail after ringing about fifteen times.”

Anna blinked at his tone. “Sorry, Mr. Garrison.” She looked him directly in the eye as she passed through the narrow doorway and managed not to brush one fiber of his thousand-dollar suit. “I’ll get your phone.” She added some steel in her voice as she hustled toward her desk just as the next line rang.

“Mr. Garrison’s office.” His name rolled off her tongue, flipping her stomach as the sight of him had done. This was why people shouldn’t get involved at work. Forget what happened to her in the past. She couldn’t even say his name without causing a mental meltdown.

“Hello.” The voice on the phone was low, rich, female and unfamiliar. “I want Parker Garrison.”

Get in line, Anna thought wryly. “May I tell him who is calling?”

“This is Cassie Sinclair Garrison, returning his call.”

Anna corralled her scattered thoughts. Cassie Sinclair… Garrison? She was using the name now? That would put Parker in a fine… finer mood. She turned just in time to see him heading into his office.

“Mr.—” She blew out a half breath. What did she call him now? Every time she said Mr. Garrison, they’d both think of his “warning” kisses. At least, she would.

“Who is it, Anna?” he asked, pausing at his door.

“Cassie Sinclair.” No need to have him fume at her because his illegitimate half sibling was using her father’s name. Let him find out on his own.

The color drained slightly from his sculpted cheekbones. “I’ll take that call.” He disappeared into his office, and closed the door with a definitive click, making her feel as shut out as he had on the plane when he’d slept or read the entire flight.

Behind her, Anna got a whiff of Sheila’s spicy perfume.

“Not that it’s any of my concern,” she said, hitching a lazy hip against the arm of the guest chair. “But my experience tells me if you don’t clear the air, then whatever is ricocheting off you two is going to do both of you in. And you’ll cave first, darlin’.”

“Nothing is ricocheting,” she insisted. Except her heart. Why was he treating her like this? Would it be different if she had slept with him? Was he mad at her for saying no, or at himself for being… a man?

And what a man he was.

“Just clear the air, sweetie,” Sheila said, giving Anna’s hand a friendly pat. “Tell him you’re sorry you did or you didn’t, but don’t lose your job over it if you can help it. No man’s worth a paycheck, trust me.”

As if she didn’t already know that. “Thanks for the advice.”

Sheila winked. “Anytime. And anytime you want to share the gory details…” She pointed toward the closed office door. “I bet that stud knows a few tricks, too.”

“I wouldn’t know,” Anna said, her professional demeanor as secure as the button that held her modest shirt closed tight at the collar.

Sadly, Anna had to admit Shelia knew what she was talking about. As soon as that door opened, she was going to heed the unsolicited advice. She would tell Parker that despite the kisses and the chemistry they felt, they had to remain employer/employee only. But nothing else.

And once she told him that, she could get back to concentrating on her job. Maybe.

“Thank you for calling me back, Ms. Sinclair.”

“Actually, I use both my last names. It’s Cassie Sinclair Garrison.” She ladled extra emphasis on their shared name and Parker just closed his eyes in revulsion.

But he refused to take the bait. “We need to talk about the questionable provisions in my father’s will,” he said, keeping any hint of emotion out of his voice.

The connection from Nassau was clear enough for him to hear her soft cough. “I’m not aware of any questionable provisions. It was all perfectly clear to me.”

She was not going to be easy to manipulate. Well, of course not. Like it or not, she had Garrison blood in her veins and they were a stubborn bunch.

He powered on. “I think you’ll agree that there’s absolutely no reason for you to be bothered with the responsibility of twenty percent shares of Garrison, Inc. I’ve been running the company—”

“Not a bother at all,” she assured him.

“I make the majority decisions for this company,” he said firmly.

“I understand that and I hope you’ll continue to do so,” she said. “To be honest, I have no desire to exercise my new control, but I’ll keep it. I have a hotel to run.”

Relief washed over him. “Then I’ll have my attorney arrange for you to rescind the shares immediately.”

“That won’t be necessary,” she said coolly, as Parker stood and squinted into the Miami sunshine. “I have no intention of rescinding anything. I just don’t want to exercise those shares right now.”

He didn’t like the sound of that. He didn’t like the sound of any of this. “Then why not turn them over to me?”

“Because I don’t want to.”

She wanted money. Of course. “I will have my attorney draw up an extremely fair offer, Miss… Sinclair.”

“It’s Garrison and I wouldn’t trouble your attorney because I will not sell my shares for any price, fair or otherwise.”

“Why not?” She had to know he’d offer her well above market value.

“Because they were a gift.” She paused for a moment, then added, “From my father.”

Parker swallowed the bitter, metallic taste of fury in his mouth. “From your illegitimate father,” he ground out.

“Be that as it may, he was and will always be a father to me. You may not know this, Mr. Garrison, but your father spent a lot of time in Nassau and he took very good care of my mother and me.”

Forget apathy. Forget leaving family emotions at the door. This woman was doing everything in her power to incense him. And it was working.

“Is that so?” he replied. “Frankly, no one in my family—including my mother, the one and only Mrs. John Garrison—was aware of that.”

She was quiet long enough to know he hit a mark. “Mr. Garrison, I’m going to make this very easy on you,” she finally said.

“How’s that?”

“Let’s not talk anymore. If you have anything, absolutely anything, to say to me, put it in writing. I don’t want to discuss business with you. I don’t want to rescind my shares. I don’t want to sell my shares. I don’t want to hear about your mother. I don’t want to meet your brothers and sisters and have a cozy family reunion. Is that clear?”

Oh, she was a Garrison, all right. He didn’t even have to see the cleft in her chin to know for sure. “Crystal clear.”

“Good. And don’t try some underhanded, sneaky way to get rid of me. My father told me you can be ruthless.”

He could be ruthless, all right. And would be, if necessary. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“I know how much this means to you,” she snapped back. “I don’t put anything past you.”

She didn’t know anything about him and what meant what to him. “Excuse me, but you’re the one who appeared out of nowhere claiming to be a Garrison.”

She choked, her own temper obviously torqued. “I haven’t appeared out of nowhere. I’ve been right here, for twenty-seven years, the daughter of John Garrison and Ava Sinclair. There were no ‘claims.’ “

“You’ll have to prove it.” The words were out before he could stop himself, erupted by his boiling blood. “We want to run full DNA tests and until conclusive proof is on my desk, my father’s will is being contested in court.”

He heard her breath escape in frustration. “Fine. Sic your lawyers on me. I don’t care. Let me run my property the way I always have. Garrison, Inc. will get the appropriate percentage of my profits. In the meantime, stay away from me and I’ll stay away from you.”

She clicked off before he could respond. Swearing softly, Parker threw his phone on the desk and strode toward the door, his command that Anna get Brandon Washington on the phone already forming in his mouth.

He whipped the door open and almost knocked her down.

What was she doing there? Listening?

He glared at her, and she backed up a step, but lifted up her chin defiantly. “I want to talk to you.”

Of course she was listening. The Jefferieses would probably want a full report. He gave her a smile, which wasn’t difficult because even behind those little glasses, she was pretty. Very pretty.

“About what?” he asked, keeping his tone friendly.

She took a deep breath and glanced at the clerk who was slowly unloading the morning mail in front of her desk.

“Morning, Mario,” Parker said, greeting the man who’d worked for the company since the year his father had opened it.

“Mr. Garrison.” He nodded slowly, obviously more interested in the conversation than delivering the mail.

“Please,” Anna said to Parker, starting to close his door. “It’s personal.”

But he put his hand on the wood to keep it open. “How personal?”

She speared him with a look. “Very personal.”

He dipped one inch closer and the color immediately rose to her cheeks. For a spy, she sure had a weak spot. Several of them, in fact. One behind her ear, one just at the rise of her breasts and the weakest of all, the soft inside flesh of her thigh.

His body stirred at the thought. Might be time to exploit those weaknesses. “Then why don’t we discuss it over dinner, Anna?”

Her eyes widened. “Dinner?”

“Yep. I feel like celebrating.”

“You do?”

He cocked his head toward the phone on his desk. “It appears all the problems have been solved,” he said smoothly. “Cassie Sinclair is going to rescind her shares. So, let’s celebrate.”

It wasn’t really a lie. He’d win this and Cassie would rescind her shares, or sell them to him. But it wouldn’t hurt to see if a little misinformation got dripped into the Jefferies organization.

“Oh, that’s wonderful.” She brightened, sounding very sincere. How would it sound when she relayed that information to Jordan and Emilio Jefferies? “Would you like me to get Brandon Washington on the phone for you?”

Damn, she was good. Spy or not, she had a skill for anticipating everything he needed. How would that translate in bed? The thought tightened his gut.

“Yes, please. And call Brittany Beach Restaurant and tell my sister to get us the best table in the house tonight.”

“All right. Then we’ll talk tonight.”

They would. And he would plant a few more decoy targets and then he’d sit back and watch Anna, and Jordan and Emilio, try to hit them. “I’ll look forward to it.”

The only problem was, he would. All day.

Five

Parker left the office early, met off-site with Brandon and made it to Brittany Beach well in advance of his “date.” At seven, the sprawling veranda that overlooked the white sands of Miami Beach was already jammed with the beautiful people ready to blow off summer steam and partake in the edgy atmosphere.

He strode across the whitewashed planks, his sunglasses hiding his observation of a young woman in a bikini top so small a strong wind would loosen it. His sister Brittany had taken a lukewarm restaurant that had little going for it but a primo location and turned it into a fairly sizzling place to dine and be seen. Although Adam’s Estate was the late-night destination for the younger club-going set, Brittany Beach had potential.

However, the potential Parker saw was primarily in the fact that the restaurant was located on one of the last waterfront parcels in SoBe still zoned for condos.

Still, Brittany was squeezing what she could out of the restaurant business. Unless it was pouring, the elegant Haitian cotton sofas under cabana tents were populated with self-absorbed Euro models and the men who liked to buy them drinks and dinner. This evening was no different.

“Hey, Parker. Over here.” He turned at the sound of Stephen’s voice, to see his brother sitting comfortably on one of those sofas, with no model in sight. There would be, eventually.

“‘Sup, Stephen.” Parker ambled over, offered his knuckles in greeting and took the silent invitation to join him. “You having dinner here?”

“Just stopped by to see how Brittany’s doing. Have you seen her?”

“No, but I just walked in. She’ll be around.”

A pretty blond cocktail waitress in a revealing halter top and low-slung sarong sidled up to their table and flashed a smile. “Hi, guys. What’ll it be?”

“I’m having dinner,” Parker said, “but not for a few minutes, so just a bottled water for me.”

Stephen ordered a light beer and asked if Brittany was around.

“She’s in the kitchen,” the waitress said. “You’re her brothers, right? I’ll tell her you’re here.”

When the waitress left, Parker slipped off his shades to look at his brother.

“How was the water this weekend?” he asked, knowing that Stephen, although he was as much of a workaholic as Parker, spent every free minute on his elegant cruising yacht.

“Gorgeous. A great escape from the mess that has become Garrison.”

Parker acknowledged that with a puff of disgust. “You got that right. I talked to our newest sister today.”

Stephen yanked his own sunglasses off. “And?”

“And she’s added Garrison to her last name.”

“Oh, man. What did she say?”

“In a nutshell, she won’t rescind her shares, won’t sell them outright, doesn’t want a family reunion and would like to be left alone to run her property.” Parker crossed his ankles and peered at the blue-on-blue horizon. “Brandon’s filed the legal papers. I’m contesting.”

“I don’t know if you need it legally, but you have my support.”

Parker nodded. “Thanks, bro. God knows if I’ll have the others’.”

“Adam will back you. And Brooke. I think, anyway.”

“What do you mean? What’s up with Brooke?” Parker had a well-known soft spot for his sister. “Is she still upset about the will?”

“About the fact that Dad had another family, oh yeah. I tried to talk to her about it, but you know Brooke. She’s private.”

“I’ll give her a call,” Parker said.

“You know, I think she’s seeing someone, too.”

“Really? Did she mention that at the Sunday dinner I missed?”

“No, in fact, she denied it,” Stephen said. “But I know I saw her at the Grand last Thursday.”

“The day of the will reading?”

“That night, actually. I saw her across the lobby, and some guy had his arm around her. Then he disappeared around the corner with her.”

“And you never saw him before?” Parker leaned forward, his brotherly protective streak ignited.

“I only saw him from the back and when I asked her about it on Sunday, she said I must have confused her with someone else.”

“Brittany?”

“Brittany was here that night.”

Brooke wouldn’t lie, so Stephen must have been mistaken. “I’ll have to talk to her, but still, I think she’ll support my decision to contest the will. Not sure about her evil twin, though.”

Stephen laughed softly. “Brittany’s always a wild card.” He glanced around as though just mentioning their sister would conjure her up. “I guess it depends what Garrison, Inc. wants to persuade her to do with this restaurant.”

Parker shrugged. “I know this is her baby, and I was just thinking she’s done a fine job bringing this place into the twenty-first century.”

“It’s profitable.”

“On paper, yes. But do you have any idea how many more millions we’d get if we used this slice of land for condos?”

Stephen conceded that with a nod, saying nothing as the waitress delivered their drinks.

“She’d be devastated if we go that route,” Stephen finally said. “You’d have to evict her, technically.”

“I know, and I won’t unless we’re forced to. As long as she’s turning a real profit here—and I mean a significant profit—then we can wait. But Garrison, Inc. owns the land, even if she owns the restaurant. If we wait, all that’ll happen is that the cost of building will rise, and we’ll charge five million for a condo instead of four. But if her business starts to falter, which, knowing the cyclical nature of the restaurant trade, it inevitably will—”

Behind him, a small but firm hand landed on his shoulder.

“Nothing is inevitable.” Brittany’s voice was as cold as the water he sipped. “Except that yet another poor, unsuspecting fool is up at the hostess stand asking for you. Haven’t I seen this one before, Parker?”

She’d heard everything. He knew it. He’d just effectively put his sister on notice. What would that do when it came time for her support in contesting the will? He planted a smile and stood to greet her.

“Of course you’ve seen her before,” he said, reaching to give her a brotherly, if cursory, hug. “She’s my administrative assistant.”

Brittany ignored his outstretched hands by putting hers on her slender hips. “That’s Anna?” She frowned deeper. “She looks different.”

“So is this a date or a business meeting?” Stephen asked.

Parker pulled his sunglasses back on. “A little of both, my friends. A little of both.”

They both opened their mouths to speak, but he slipped away with a half salute of goodbye before they could bombard him with questions he didn’t want to answer.

Anna saw his silhouette before she could make out Parker’s face as he walked toward her, backlit by the early evening sun reflecting off the water. He moved like an athlete, so strong and in control of every muscle. He held his head high, his broad shoulders erect, his expensive suit draping perfectly over the body it was cut and sewn to fit.

When, she wondered, would this man stop taking her breath away?

She’d taken the job as his assistant knowing full well that she found him attractive. That hadn’t seemed like something that would be crippling. She thought it would add a nice, interesting dimension to her job—the handsome boss.

But she hadn’t counted on him being so down-to-the-bone appealing. And she certainly hadn’t thought he’d ask her to travel with him and then kiss her senseless.

Of course, to be fair, she had kissed him first.

And there had been nothing senseless about it. She’d distracted him. And it had worked. But now they were going back to a strictly business arrangement that would stifle her attraction, and protect her from his digging into secrets that had to remain buried.

As Parker approached, his gaze dropped, quickly but clearly, and his eyebrows twitched in a silent compliment.

“You changed,” he said with a smile. “I like that dress.”

She’d chosen something black, simple, ladylike. But the way he inspected her, she wondered if he could see right through it. “I had a little time, so I took a run when I got home.”

“How long have you been running?” he asked.

From the past? Darn near five years. “I started in high school,” she said. “Got hooked on the endorphin rush.”

His lips tipped in a smile. “I know the feeling.”

“But you get it from work,” she replied.

“I get it from a lot of things,” he said, his voice so low and rich with implication she actually curled her toes as a hostess approached them.

“Inside or out, Mr. Garrison?” she asked, her sky-blue eyes trained on him flirtatiously.

But he didn’t seem to notice. Instead, he put a confident hand on Anna’s back and spoke to her. “I suggest we eat indoors because it gets a little raucous on the patio. Unless you’d prefer outdoor air.”

“Inside is fine,” she said.

“It’s more private,” he added, stepping a little closer. “Since you wanted to talk.”

Yes, she did. And she couldn’t let that glint in his dark chocolate eyes or that sexy, musky scent distract her from what she’d come here to tell him.

In a few minutes, they were seated in an alcove more like a bed than a booth, with a sheer privacy drape and a low table that practically begged the occupants to lie down and eat.

“Yeah, this is private, all right,” she said, tugging at the skirt that rode up her thighs as she situated herself.

“We can leave the drape open, if you prefer,” he said, shaking off his jacket and loosening his tie. She tried to swallow, but her throat had turned bone-dry and her hands itched to undo that tie even farther.

“Need a drink, Anna?” he asked as if he noticed her problem.

“Just water, please. I’m not drinking tonight.” She needed every last wit to deal with him.

He ordered them both bottled water, which was delivered with tall, free-form cobalt-blue glasses of ice with curls of lemon and lime. While they sipped, he made small talk, mentioning that he’d seen his brother outside, telling her how the restaurant had changed since his sister had taken over ownership.

“Are you close to Brittany?” she asked, suddenly curious. “She doesn’t call you much.”

“We have our moments,” he told her with a wistful smile. “She’s definitely the more opinionated of the twins.”

He told her a story from their childhood, something that proved his point about the difference between the twins, and Anna tried to concentrate on the details, but every minute or so her mind would drift to study the full shape of his lips, the marked cleft in his chin so like the ones all his siblings had.

He continued the story and she caught a few snatches, but her gaze slipped to his hair, which was short but thick and a little longer in the front, so that when he lowered his head, a single lock would fall on his forehead.

And his hands. God, she adored those hands. Like the feet, they were all size and strength. She watched his fingers close over the base of the water glass and remembered how they’d felt on her thigh, branding her with heat and desire.

“Can’t you just imagine a seven-year-old girl doing that?” he asked.

A little wave of panic dried her throat again. She had no idea what he’d said. “No,” she replied, hoping it was the right answer.

His smile was slow and teasing. “No, you can’t imagine, or no, you didn’t hear a word I said?”

Did he have to be so damn charming? That wasn’t making this any easier.

Before she could answer, he leaned on one hand, the one that was perilously close to her hip, and trained that hot, dark gaze on her. “So, what’s on your mind, sweetheart?”

Sweetheart. The endearment almost ripped her in half. Pulling up all her inner strength, she opened her mouth to say, “We have to be friends,” just as Brittany Garrison arrived at the table, carrying a plate of sushi appetizers.

“I hate to interrupt this obviously important business meeting, but my chef has outdone himself in your honor.” She set the plate between them, but looked at her brother. “We wouldn’t want to falter in the kitchen now, would we?”

Parker plucked a tuna roll and winked at her. “No, we wouldn’t, Britt. Do you remember my administrative assistant, Anna Cross?”

Anna reached out to shake Brittany’s hand. “Hello, Brittany.”

Brittany gave her a thorough assessment. “Of course we’ve met,” she said warmly. “But you only worked for him then. How long have you been dating?”

“We’re not—”

“Go away, Britt,” Parker said, shooing her with a tuna roll. “It’s bad business to annoy the patrons.”

She merely shot him a sideways glance. “I need to know what night you want to reserve this place for Mother’s sixtieth surprise bash.”

He popped the sushi and chewed, wiping his mouth with a linen napkin and nodding in approval. “Nice, fresh fish, Britt. Compliments to the kitchen.”