Next to You Read online

  “I’d would need to make sure your stock is, uh, on the rise before I invest.”

  “Oh, it’s on the rise. I can document that.”

  “And, uh, I might need to do a SWOT analysis. Strengths, weaknesses, opportunities and threats.”

  “You’re my weakness, Phlox. Is that going to be a problem?”

  “Probably not. Depends on the size of the potential market. I’d have to explore that.”

  He moaned faintly on the other end. Phlox smiled. She liked knowing she could turn him on like this, even long distance.

  “The market is getting bigger by the minute. As long as there aren’t any serious barriers to entry.”

  Phlox closed her eyes and slipped a hand inside her panties. “Jared,” she whispered.

  “What’s your investment philosophy, Phlox? I would need to know that we’re aligned that way.”

  Her hips were rocking gently beneath her hand. “I like to put my money where my mouth is. So I would align my mouth … with your business …” Her train of thought was fading fast.

  There was nothing but Jared’s breathing on the other end, until she heard a tiny “Fuck. Phlox.” She listened to him breath heavily for several minutes. When his breathing was under control again, he said, “I think you just triggered the market circuit breaker.”

  Phlox began to wonder how on earth Jared knew what a market circuit breaker was but the thought was interrupted by her own orgasm. He listened to her come, whispering softly in her ear.

  “I love you, Phlox. You know that, right? Whatever else, I love you.”

  Phlox’s body lay limp on the sofa. She was spent, physically and emotionally, overwhelmed by his words. I love you. He hadn’t said that last night, even after she had ventured out onto that limb herself.

  “Are you okay over there?” he asked.

  “Mm-hmm. I think so. Maybe. How about you?”

  “Definitely a level three halt on my end.”

  A level three halt was the most serious circuit breaker on the stock exchange, suspending trading to prevent a crash. He must know that from Jake, she thought, or else he watches a lot of television during the day. What else would he do on rainy days in Connecticut?

  “You’re a Maria Bartiromo groupie, aren’t you?” she joked.

  “I’m a Phlox Miller groupie. But you should get some sleep now. I’ll see you on tv tomorrow, sweetheart.”

  * * *

  When Jared woke the next morning, his sweat pants were on the floor. He hadn’t dreamed that, after all. He and Phlox did have phone sex last night. Damn, that had been hot. Not as good as the real thing but better than plain old self abuse. He loved it when she went all CNBC on him.

  He showered, dressed and made coffee. All with a stupid-ass grin on his face. You have enough money to be happy. No offense to his brother, but it was a woman who was making him happy—not money. It was as simple as that.

  And as utterly, heartbreakingly complicated.

  He turned on the television and clicked through to the business channels while his coffee brewed. He wanted to see Phlox in the business world, in her element. He wanted to see her being smart and successful and kick-ass awesome. Jake had stopped asking him years ago whether he missed that world. For a long time, he didn’t. Building Accendo had been all-consuming and exhausting. Selling it even more so. But now … yeah, he missed adult conversations and the competition. Missed the thrill of winning.

  He wanted to impress Phlox, too. He wanted to be more than just a caretaker to her, but he couldn’t do that without showing himself to be a liar as well. How the hell had he backed himself into this fucking corner?

  He poured himself a cup of coffee, drank it scorching and black, then poured another.

  “After the break, we have Phlox Miller, president of Phlox Beauty, with us to discuss their recent product recall. Don’t go away,” the newscaster intoned.

  Jared guzzled coffee while he waited. Damn, commercial breaks were long. Then there she was—in an expensive-looking dark green suit, her hair straight and tucked behind her ears. She looked like the president of a company, he thought, albeit a young one. Like he had been. His heart went out to her. He knew exactly what it felt like to be in the hot seat with reporters, with investors, with bankers. To feel the weight of an entire company on your shoulders—employees who depended on you to pay their mortgage, feed their children, care for ailing parents.

  He wished he could be there for her. Wished he was waiting in the green room with her. He would straighten her jacket, tell her she looked lovely, tell her she was going to do great. He could offer her business advice and his contacts.

  She looked calm and composed, though, even without him. Who was he kidding? She and her partner had built a successful business without his help. It was presumptuous of him to think he had something to offer her.

  “So Ms. Miller,” the interviewer began. Jared had seen this guy on television a million times but today was the first day he had ever actively disliked him. “As of yesterday, six hundred and eighty-one people have been burned by your A2Z Cream.”

  “The last count, as of this morning, is eight hundred and twelve.”

  Jared’s eyes widened along with the interviewer’s. Wow. Most people would have let the smaller number stand, but Phlox came out swinging.

  “We are encouraging everyone who has had an adverse reaction to the product to contact us immediately,” she continued. “We are covering medical expenses in full for all affected customers. We expect to have all of the contaminated batch of product out of the distribution stream by close of business today.”

  Covering medical expenses … that was going to be a lot of money.

  “So you suspect the product was tampered with in your manufacturing facility?”

  “Yes, we believe that was what happened. Law enforcement is involved in that investigation. I need to stress, however, that it was only the A2Z Cream produced during that one week that was contaminated. Customers can compare the date and product number on their packaging to the information listed on our web site to see if they have purchased an affected bottle. Customers may return any bottle of the product, regardless of the date of manufacture, for a full refund if they wish.”

  “How many units of your A2Z Cream have been sold to date?”

  Idiot. She’s not going to reveal sales figures, Jared thought.

  “Since the product’s launch back in April, we’ve sold just under 25,000 units. Mind you, this is a completely custom product so it’s not something customers can walk into a store and walk out with the same day. It’s ordered directly from us and formulated per each customer’s specs.”

  “You got some flack when it launched, didn’t you? For attempting this custom manufacturing and direct distribution. Do you think you’ll continue it?”

  “I think we will. Overall, women were responding well to the opportunity to get all the functionality they wanted in a single product. Retailers were skeptical at first but the kiosks worked flawlessly so they’re making money without having to stock inventory.”

  Damn. If there was anything hotter than a woman in a perfectly tailored suit talking manufacturing and inventory, Jared couldn’t come up with it at the moment. I want this woman. That’s all he could think of as Phlox and the interviewer sparred back and forth some more. I would do anything to have her.

  “One final question, Ms. Miller. Will any of your customers be permanently injured by this tampering incident?”

  Jared held his breath. This was the money question.

  “We don’t believe so, no. The tampering was intended to hurt Phlox Beauty more so than our customers—”

  “So the culprit had some sort of heart then?”

  Phlox lifted her graceful winged eyebrows in a gesture that was wonderfully haughty. A woman who could speak volumes with just her eyebrows. Jared loved it.

  “The contaminated product will result in what is essentially a deep chemical peel. Dermatologists do these all t
he time, under supervision of course. The skin will heal but the recovery period can be rough, especially if you hadn’t planned for it.”

  The show cut to another commercial break. She did well. It wasn’t a real hardball interview but she had come across as composed and cool, in control but compassionate. She had stuck to her talking points. He called Jake.

  “Now what?” his brother answered.

  “I want to invest in her company.”

  The costs Phlox and her partner were taking on to manage this product tampering incident were not minor. Medical expenses. Not to mention, sales of their other products were going to take a hit because of this. No way to avoid that. He was surprised that question didn’t come up in the interview.

  “Should I pretend I don’t know whose company you’re referring to?” Jake mused.

  “We gave them the young entrepreneur grant through the foundation, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “So funnel this through the Maria Group,” Jared said.

  “The Maria Group hasn’t made an investment in over a year.”

  “So? You haven’t embezzled the money, have you?”

  “Have you spoken to her?”

  “I don’t want her knowing it’s from me. Not yet.”

  Jake’s laugh was thin and disbelieving. “You’re digging yourself in deeper.”

  “Now isn’t the right time. Not with what’s going on in her life.” Jared paused, not wanting to say the words. But he did. “And not with what’s going on in ours. After that, then I can figure it out.”

  Chapter 24

  Rye’s office was the most masculine space in Phlox Beauty’s headquarters. Most of the offices were light and modern with abstract prints on the wall. Rye’s, on the other hand, looked like a gentleman’s library or smoking room. He had furnished it with leather chairs and a big old mahogany desk. An accountant’s green-shaded lamp stood sentry over his desk pad and leather pencil cup.

  Phlox collapsed into one of the leather wingchairs. Rye was furiously scrolling through e-mails on his phone while they waited for Zee and Jess, their head of communications, to arrive. Cherise bustled in with sandwiches and sodas from the deli down the street.

  “So what’s going on?” she asked her brother. Rye had texted her a meeting request half an hour ago, when she’d been in a cab returning from the television studio.

  “I want to wait until Zee and Jess are here,” he replied without looking up from his phone.

  “Can you at least tell me whether it’s good news or bad? So I don’t sit here and worry?”

  He set his phone down and did look up this time. “It’s good news.”

  Phlox let out the breath she’d been holding. "Finally. We need some good news for a change.”

  “That we do.”

  “Can I run something by you?”

  “Shoot.”

  “So this whole mess makes the idea of building our own manufacturing facility a little more urgent, wouldn’t you say?” she said.

  “Yeah, I would say that. I’m pissed at Zee, obviously, but I’m also pissed at the factory. How the hell could they have allowed someone to contaminate a product? We can’t afford to have the factory be a weak link in the supply chain.”

  “Could we build one in Connecticut?”

  Rye snorted. “Not in Fairfield County.”

  “What about a cheaper part of the state? There’s plenty of land around.” The idea to build in Connecticut had occurred to her in the cab on her way to the television studio that morning. If there was a factory in Connecticut, she’d have the perfect reason to spend more time at her home there. She could build a new lab right in the same building. There were advantages to having both the lab and the manufacturing facility in the same location.

  And she could see Jared more often.

  “I’ll look into it,” Rye said.

  “Look into what?” Zee asked as she swept into the office, with Jess two steps behind.

  “Bringing manufacturing in-house by building a plant in Connecticut,” Rye answered, putting his phone away.

  Zee shot Phlox a knowing smile. “That’s not a bad idea.”

  “Yeah, we’ll look into it but it’s not on the agenda today.”

  Rye looked as tired and haggard as the rest of them did.

  “Announcing that we’re bringing manufacturing in-house would be a good move,” Jess chimed in. “It would help allay people’s fears.”

  “Noted,” Rye said. “I got a call this morning from an investment group.”

  The room fell silent.

  “They want to invest in us,” he added.

  “And why would they want to do that? Now of all times?” Phlox said.

  “They like the fundamentals of the company and want to help us get through this crisis.”

  “Who is the investor and who did you speak to?” Zee asked. “Sounds suspicious to me.”

  “The Maria Group. It was their attorney who called.”

  “Their attorney,” Phlox said flatly. “Are you familiar with the Maria Group?”

  “No, but—”

  Jess was typing on her laptop, each keystroke like a sharp little explosion. “I’m not finding a Maria Group online,” she said.

  “Bad sign, number one,” Phlox replied.

  “Not all of these groups have web sites,” her brother countered. “They don’t publicize their investments and they don’t want to be solicited. They choose whom they invest in.”

  “All right. So what are they offering?”

  “Thirty million in exchange for one percent of the company,” he said.

  Zee sucked in a loud breath. “One percent? That’s all? This doesn’t sound legit, guys.”

  Phlox closed her eyes for a moment to think. She was tired. Deep down bone tired and staying up late talking to Jared last night hadn’t helped her energy level any. “Can we hold off on this until we learn more about them?”

  She didn’t want to say it, not in front of Zee, but they’d already been burned by Nicholas. They needed to be more careful about who they partnered with from here on out.

  “Maybe Jess can make some calls, see what she can find out,” Zee suggested.

  “I’m just worried that people may be thinking we’re vulnerable right now and easy to take advantage of. We need to keep our guard up,” Phlox said. “They say they want one percent but in six months, when the crisis has passed, they’ll want to renegotiate.”

  * * *

  Phlox was back in her own office for less than thirty seconds when Cherise popped her head in. “David wants to know if you’ll have dinner with him tonight. He’s been calling all morning.”

  “Thanks. I’ll call him back.”

  David had been phoning and e-mailing and texting her since she returned to New York two days ago. She was really too tired to go to dinner tonight, but she’d been ignoring all of his efforts to contact her. Maybe if she hadn’t met Jared, she’d be interested again, more inclined to give him a second chance. After all, he was a close friend of her brother’s and her parents already knew and liked him.

  But she had met Jared.

  Still, she felt she owed David a face-to-face conversation to explain things. So at six-thirty she stepped out into the lobby, allowed David to kiss her on the cheek and accompanied him to the elevator. He was as elegantly dressed as she remembered, in a black suit and pale grey linen shirt, his tie rakishly loosened.

  “You look beautiful as always,” he said as they waited. “How are you holding up?” He pushed the elevator button several more times.

  “As well as can be expected, I guess,” she replied. “It doesn’t make it come any faster, you know.”

  “I know. But you know us Type A’s.” He smiled affectionately at her and tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear. “We business owners have that in common.”

  Do we? Phlox wasn’t so sure. She had stopped into the lab for a minutes after lunch to say hello to the staff there. She’d been reminded just
how much she enjoyed puttering around there, patiently searching for answers. Sometimes searching for the questions, too.

  “I’m not really a Type A. I just play one on tv.”

  David chucked her lightly under the chin as the elevator doors opened. “A beautiful woman with brains and a sense of humor. What more could I want?”

  Chemistry echoed loudly in Phlox’s beautiful, funny brain. She and David had never had much chemistry together. Before the accident, chemistry hadn’t been at the top of her list of qualities she looked for in a man. She couldn’t be that picky back then. I was a chem major. I bring enough chemistry for both of us, she used to joke. But what she felt around Jared was off the charts. He lit all her Bunsen burners just by walking into the room.

  Outside, the sidewalk was filled with people leaving work, streaming toward the subway and hailing cabs. She and David walked the four blocks to his newest restaurant, Cook’s Kitchen, specializing in upscale down-home cooking. Potpies, gourmet mac and cheese, meatloaf. As they entered the restaurant, she could see that the place was packed. David led her through the warmly-lit dining room, past tables topped with cheery blue and yellow striped tablecloths. The buzz of conversation filled the high-ceilinged space. It was inviting, comfortable and laid-back—unlike David’s other restaurants, which seemed designed to intimidate.

  On paper David Cook was a catch, no question about it. He was a talented restaurateur. A successful businessman. Tall and handsome with glossy dark hair and a broad friendly smile. Her family had already vetted and approved him. If he had changed his mind—and his feelings—about Phlox, well then he was a safe bet for a boyfriend … and maybe more.

  Jared Connor was about as risky a bet as Phlox could imagine. He said he loved her, but he didn’t want to be seen in public with her. She couldn’t imagine her mother approving of him—not that Phlox needed her mother’s approval on everything but it would make life difficult to be sure.

  She followed him up an ornate metal staircase to the second floor balcony and the only available table up there. Naturally David had his own table, reserved only for him, at each of his restaurants. She could see why he had picked this particular table as his own. It had an almost complete view of the entire first floor dining room, with the exception of the tables tucked neatly away in the corners.