Page 6 of Just Between Us

I headed straight for the offices of JP King at King Equities. The main offices were housed in Chicago, but the local offices in Outtatowner, Michigan, were the hub, since apparently that was where Russell King often spent his time. The mere name Russell King was revered in many circles. Everyone knew him. He was a ruthless businessman, and his bold reputation preceded him.

Color me surprised when his son reached out requesting a private meeting to discuss the future of King Equities—I hadn’t even realized Russell Kinghada son.

Despite our many conversations and him speaking in veiled terms, I saw JP King’s intent for what it was. He was staging a coup—the unexpected and hostile takeover of his father’s company.

Many in my position might walk away from complicated family dynamics that could leave one side in ruin, but that wasn’t for me to have feelings about.

I needed the paycheck and the redemption.

It was business.

And I was damn good at it.

Brushing away any lingering nerves, I rang the buzzer for the offices of King Equities, located on the upper level of an aging corner building downtown.

“Hello?” A young woman’s singsong voice answered.

“Veda Bauer here to see Mr. JP King, please.” I smoothed a hand down my hip, settling my nerves.

“Okee dokee artichokey!” the voice cracked through the speaker.

What the hell?

The door buzzer crackled, and I entered the building. It was stuffy, with little airflow and a stale scent that was borderline nauseating. A row of closed doors lined one hallway, and a flight of wooden stairs led to more office spaces upstairs.

“Up here,” a man’s deep voice called from the top of the stairs.

I glanced up and spotted who I assumed was JP King, dressed in a black suit, tie, and jacket. I nodded and climbed the rickety stairs, clutching the handrail so I wouldn’t slip in my heels.

When I reached the top, JP held out his hand. “Thank you for meeting with me.”

I planted my hand in his, holding his intense gaze and providing the type of firm handshake that proved I wasn’t fucking around and that I belonged with the big boys.

I lifted a sculpted brow as I took in the dingy space. “Satellite office?”

JP shifted in his suit, subtly adjusting his perfectly straight silk tie. “Something like that.”

He gestured for me to follow him down the upstairs hallway. The door to his office was unlabeled, and he pushed it open, allowing me to enter first.

Inside, I found the source of the woman’s voice. Grinning behind a single antique desk was a pretty woman wearing whatlooked like nurse’s scrubs. Her chin rested on her hands as she smiled and watched us.

“Ms. Bauer, my sister MJ.” JP gestured toward the pretty young woman, who wiggled her fingers at me. “She was just leaving.”

The woman’s face twisted, and she stuck her tongue out at him. When she stood, I noted she was short and had a pep in her step that revealed an innate youthfulness.

I couldn’t relate.

She stuck out her hand. “Pleasure to meet you, Veda.”

She slipped her warm hand into mine, and I softened toward her. It wasn’t often I was greeted with sweetness, and the unexpected exchange struck a chord.

I smiled. “The pleasure is mine.”

JP flicked his head toward the door. “Go.”

His little sister snarled as she rolled her eyes. “Grouch.”

Once we were alone in the office, I looked around. Piles of banker’s boxes were stacked along one wall, and the single rickety desk faced a curved wall of windows. With a little TLC—a.k.a. a total gut job—the office space wouldn’t be half-bad.

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