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Her shoulders rose. She knew it had been coming, but he threw it at her like one of the painful, ruthless decisions he made on a daily basis.
“And what will you tell Coburn?”
His jaw hardened. “I’ll tell him it was a personality clash. My fault. He knows I’m a son of a bitch. It won’t be hard to believe.”
It wouldn’t. But she wasn’t sure Coburn would buy it. He knew she wasn’t a quitter. He knew she would have made it work. However, right now, none of that mattered. All that mattered was getting out of here before he made her want to say something completely out of character. Something angry. Because although this was her fault, even though she had made her own bed, it was clear it was never going to be Harrison Grant’s.
And that hurt in a way she didn’t want to examine.
She lifted her chin, gray eyes clashing with black. “Are we done here? I’d like to go home and shower.”
His eyes flashed. She watched him bank the heat down into that cool, calm control of his. “Two things. Can you call the agency and get the replacement candidates in for interviews next week?”
Wow, he wasn’t wasting any time getting rid of her. “Of course.”
“Good. I’ve sent a note to the lawyers telling them to forward the Aristov contract to Leonid. I may need your help this morning facilitating things while I’m in my meeting. Stay close to your phone.”
When was she ever not close to her phone? She nodded and got stiffly to her feet. She was almost to the door, still full coffee cup in her hand when he spoke.
“Are you all right?”
She turned around and gave him her iciest look. “Perfectly fine. I’ll see you this afternoon.”
* * *
Harrison spent the rest of the morning in an industry meeting with various automotive groups from across the country, trying not to feel like the cad he was. He knew what Frankie had wanted to hear. He couldn’t deny he’d felt it. He’d told her he’d felt it last night. You do something to me... Give yourself to me... But he would never admit it in the cold light of day.
He reached for his coffee cup, then shoved it away before he developed caffeine poisoning. He’d never had that kind of a connection with anyone, ever, not even with Susanna, whom he’d loved with what he’d later learned had been a surface, selfish kind of it. But it didn’t mean he had the ability to offer Francesca anything, even once he shipped her back to Coburn. He couldn’t even table the idea of an affair to see where things would go. That would only be cruel of him when he knew where it would lead. Nowhere.
He sat back in his chair and tried to focus on what the chairman of an industry group was saying. But his thoughts kept drifting back to the woman who had stormed his defenses. So Francesca had proven he had the ability to feel when he’d thought that emotion long ago gone. He would bolt at the first sign of commitment if they did pursue something. It was his history. Last night had been a window, not a door. He’d needed to make that clear and he had, hurtful or not.
The meeting dragged on until they broke for lunch. He headed back to Grant instead of socializing. Coburn was in his office working when he arrived. His brother gave him a careful look. “I thought I heard via the grapevine Aristov signed. Didn’t you sleep well with your revenge plot wrapped up tight around you last night?”
Heat stained his cheekbones. “He signed. I’m here to talk to you about Frankie. Francesca.”
His brother’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t you dare back out of taking her to the party, H. She’s looking forward to it.”
Hell. He had forgotten all about the party. That was a problem.
“It isn’t about that,” he said roughly. “I think she should come back to work for you. Our styles are too different. It isn’t working out. I’ll find someone from the agency until Tessa’s back.”
Coburn sat back in his chair, his blue eyes spearing him. “You stood here yesterday telling me how fantastic she was in London. What’s changed?”
He lifted a shoulder. “I don’t want to strip the spirit out of her.”
How true that was.
His brother got to his feet and walked around the desk. His usual urbane charm took on a dangerous edge. “It’s funny all this would come to pass when I saw Frankie in the elevator this morning looking like crap. What the hell did you do to her, H?”
His hands curled into fists at his sides. He had not been the only adult present last night.
“I’m suggesting you take her back, Coburn.” He gave his brother a cool look. “Do it. It’s better for everyone.”
His brother’s eyes glittered with incredulity. “You have a thing going with her...I knew it when I saw those photos.”
The accusation bounced off him like the far too late summary it was. “She’s going to finish the Aristov contract with me this week and get the shareholder meetings sorted. We’ll interview candidates for her replacement next week and you can have her back by the following Monday.”
“Then what? You sleep with her a few times like you always do, then brush her off like lint on your sleeve? Frankie isn’t one of your sophisticated, heartless types, H. You will crush her.”
“Exactly why it’s not happening.” Or at least it wasn’t ever happening again. “Take her back,” he said roughly. “And spare me the sermon. You are one to talk.”
“I was the one smart enough to stay away from her.” His brother shook his head. “What about the party?”
His lips thinned. “I’ll escort her like I said I would.” He had a week before he had to figure that one out.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
“SO YOU ARE ALIVE...” Salvatore’s deep baritone reached over the phone line, familiar and comforting. “I was instructed to check.”
Frankie tossed her pencil on her desk and sighed. “Just. My boss is a slave driver. It’s been nuts. One more week and I’m going back to work for Coburn and life will return to normal.”
And why did that hurt so much to say? Was she a total glutton for punishment?
“You should come for a drink at Masserias tomorrow night. A few of us are going.”
“I would love to but I am attending the Grant Long Island party.”
Salvatore whistled. “Exalted company.”
She chewed on her lip. “I’m not really going going. My boss asked me to be nice.”
“Still, that’s a score. Maybe you can net yourself a millionaire.”
Unlikely. The only billionaire she wanted wasn’t on the market for her.
“Who are you taking?”
Her teeth burrowed deeper into her lip. “No one. Harrison is escorting me. To be nice...like I said.”
There was silence on the other end of the line. She could hear her brother’s protective instincts silently shifting into gear. “That’s...interesting.”
“Quit it, Salvatore. He considers it a reward. I promise I will come out next week.”
“I’m taking that as a solid, set-in-stone kind of promise.”
“You got it.” She tapped her fingers on the desk, fighting the urge to confide in her closest sibling. “Look, I really should get back to work.”
“Franks...” A pause. “You okay? You sound funny. I’m not far, I could drop by for coffee.”
She shook her head. Then realized he couldn’t see that. “Sorry, too busy. And I’m fine, really. Just tired.”
Better not to tell him her problem was a man and that man was her boss. He’d be over here in ten minutes flat, Harrison on the other end of his black-belt-trained glare. Salvatore always brought out the real Frankie. The emotional side of her that right now felt curiously close to tears. She had been so happy here at Grant. Now it felt as though everything was falling apart. Coburn couldn’t help but think she’d failed when she was getting shipped back to him, although he’d been seemingly thrilled at the idea. His temp was messing up his filing and, he’d added, she didn’t bring the sunshine in with her.
Her heart sank another foot. Somehow that didn’t make up for the fact that Harrison was clearly washing his hands of her, now that she’d soon cease to be useful to him, with the Aristov contract signed. The bright, shiny glow of her new life was fading fast and she didn’t want any member of her family seeing her like this when they so clearly felt she belonged at Masserias.
“All right, then.” She heard a horn sound in the background as Salvatore negotiated traffic. “Next week for sure or I come find you.”
She hung up to find Jack Robbins, the head of Grant’s legal counsel, at her desk. He eyed Harrison’s closed door, dropped the Siberius contract in front of her and gave it a satisfied look. “Fully executed, sealed in stone. The bear will be happy, no?”
“No doubt.”
Jack glanced at his watch. “I have a lunch meeting. Could you ask him to call me if he has any questions? It should be as discussed.”
“Will do.”
The lawyer made his way out the door whistling. Frankie could have used a bit of his good cheer. The past five days had been as bad as the pre-Aristov deal era. Only for a completely different reason. She and Harrison had been trying so hard to stay out of each other’s way that it had become excruciatingly awkward to be anywhere near him. His curt, near polite behavior was so odd, it was disconcerting. Perhaps because when they came within five feet of each other, neither of them seemed able to keep their cool.
