Page 25 of Hayes

"Gaston did not deserve–"

"He deserved every damn thing he got and more, but I must have inherited some of dad's big heart because I offered him leniency. You, on the other hand–" Hayes deliberately left the sentence unfinished, watching as fear filled the man's face.

"What is going to happen to me?" he whispered. "All I was loyal to was a friend."

"At the peril of a company that puts food on your table and pays for the expensive schools your children attend. We were there when your wife was diagnosed with cancer, and support was offered.

Mother found the best oncologist and insisted the company stands the cost for the treatments. Was that not enough? What more could you expect from us? A seat on the board perhaps?"

"Yes," the man hissed, "You promoted Michael Grant to that of senior vice president, and I have been there longer."

"I see." Putting his utensils down, Hayes faced him squarely. "So now we get to the crux of the matter. You feel slighted. You want to know why you were not promoted? You show a lack of initiative.

You did the bare minimum, and you demanded a lot. You did not deserve the position, which was not based on seniority but rather on performance, mostly on performance.

You have been falling short over the years, Bart, and we have been watching you." He paused to allow that to sink in. "There is also the question of your drinking and gambling."

The man actually blanched and turned white. "I- I- I am attending meetings."

"You are in an enormous amount of debt, and you have attended meetings only twice."

Bart blinked, his chest swelling, his hands trembling with fear. "You have been watching me."

"Of course," Hayes offered mildly. "We do that whenever we detect suspicious behavior with an employee. Not to mention the fact that you are a senior employee and in a key position, which leaves the company open and vulnerable to rival companies getting information from you."

"I am trying to do better." His lips trembled, light green eyes pleading. "I have no way to support my family–"

"You should have thought of that before you decided to throw your life away." Hayes studied the man for a moment before making a decision. "Your wife and children certainly do not deserve your spectacular failure in life.

We will speak to the people holding your debt, and you will go into therapy for this addiction of yours. We will also give your children scholarships in order for them to finish their education. But your services are no longer required."

"I promise to do better–"

"I am sure you believe that. My decision is final. Take it or leave it."

*****

Camelia took the glass of wine with her into the living room. It had rained earlier, and the weather had dropped drastically. It was almost Thanksgiving, a holiday she was not looking forward to. It reminded her of happier times.

Pulling the lapels of the robe around her, she settled back against the cushions and folded her legs beneath her. She was working on a piece and did not have the heart to finish it. The story was not coming together, and she knew why.

The earlier conversation with Hayes had unsettled her and was making her restless. And she missed him. There was no denying it. Ever since he made love to her in his office, she could not stop yearning for his touch.

The feel of his lips on her nipples, the very thought of it, had the buds tightening. "Oh, for God's sake!" she whispered. Finishing the wine, she was about to go up to bed when she heard the heavy pounding on the door.

She did not have friends, and her aunt would not just pop over; it was not her style. So, it was a religious fanatic wanting to impart the good news at ten p.m. at night—her heart started pounding inside her chest as the obvious possibility presented itself. The increase in her heart rate was almost suffocating her.

Putting the glass down, she made her way to the door and did not have to use the peep hole to know who was standing there.

Unlocking the door, she opened it and felt her knees going weak. His hair was damp from the drizzle still coming down. He had on a light cashmere jacket that fluttered in the wind and he was so scrumptious she wanted to devour him whole.

"Well?" he cocked an amused brow at her. "Aren't you going to invite me in?"

Stepping back, she allowed him entry before closing and securing the door. Sweeping past him, she went into the living room to stand in the center of the room. "What are you doing here, Hayes? I still have three more days–"

"About that." Shrugging out of his coat, he slung it carelessly over the arm of the rocking chair and took off his suit jacket. She watched as he loosened his tie and took that off too. When he started unbuttoning his shirt, she stiffened in alarm.

"What are you doing?"

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