Chapter 6
Nolan
I walked into the Vitucci building, knowing I was likely to get my ass kicked out, but I did it anyway.
In the past few weeks, since I’d started actually playing baseball again instead of just sitting in the bullpen waiting for the benched six games to be up, my face had become fairly recognizable in NYC. At first, I’d gotten sneers, but then we’d started winning, and the citizens had become more welcoming.
When I entered the building, I encountered security measures I had to get through. Considering who Zariah’s family was, I’d been expecting them. What I wasn’t expecting was to be waved on after stepping through a metal detector. The man in the security guard uniform shook my hand, grinning from ear to ear, and asked for my autograph. I scribbled my signature across a random piece of paper the guy had in his pocket while clocking the real security—the men in suits with slight bulges under their jackets.
After I’d taken a picture with the security guard, he directed me to the reception desk, and I knew this was where I’d either have to bullshit my way up to Zariah’s office or the thugs in suits were going to throw me out.
Pasting on my most charming smile, one I’d used all too often before I’d met my redheaded vixen, I bent down and placed my forearms on the reception desk. The woman behind the desk was at least a few years older than me. Her eyes filled with interest, and I winked. “Hey, doll.”
“Whoa. Nolan Krenshaw.” She waved her hand at her face. “You’re even more yummy in the flesh.”
I smirked. “Coming from a beautiful woman, I’m flattered.”
She leaned toward me, her low-cut top showcasing her cleavage a little better for my eyes. “What can I do for you?”
“I have an unscheduled appointment with the legal department.” The lie slid easily off my tongue. “I didn’t get her name, but she’s about this tall.” I lifted my hand to indicate Zariah’s height. “Red hair. Not sure what color her eyes are, but she walked—”
“Like she has a stick stuck up her ass?” the receptionist muttered, keeping her voice low, no doubt because she would lose her job for talking shit about one of her boss’s daughters.
“Something like that,” I said with a nod, gritting my teeth at the insult to Zariah and reminding myself I needed to get past this person so I could see her. Calling this woman the jealous hag she so obviously was wouldn’t accomplish that.
The woman turned to her computer, pressing a few keys. “There are no appointments on the calendar, but you did just say it was unscheduled. And according to this, Miss Donati does have an hour blocked off.” She grabbed a visitor’s badge and wrote my name and then Legal Dept. on it, then gave me instructions for how to get to Zariah’s office before handing it over. “Make sure to drop that back here when you leave.” She gave me a sultry once-over. “Exchange it for my number.”
I winked without commenting and walked toward the bank of elevators. Several other people were already waiting, but as I joined them, one of the metal carts opened and only two people stepped off. The huge, hulking guy in a suit and the tiny blonde with dark-green eyes didn’t seem to pay the others around them an ounce of attention as they continued on their way.
“Pietro, if you hear anything about where Ryan is, I want to know,” the little blonde told the huge man.
“Yes, Miss Nova,” he assured her.
Everyone who was standing there gave the two a wide berth, but I was clueless as to why and quickly stepped into the elevator while they were distracted. Before they realized what I was doing, I pressed the button for the legal department floor and jabbed the “Close Door” button rapidly until they shut and I was alone in the elevator.
Moments later, I stepped off and came up against my next challenge—the legal department receptionist. This one, however, wasn’t someone I could flash my smirk at and wink a few times to ease my way past. The fortysomething man was thin as a reed and immaculately dressed, not a single hair out of place. His suit was cheap but stylish, and his face was more grim than my first grade teacher, who’d hated just about everyone who looked at her.
“May I help you?” the receptionist asked in a snippy, slightly nasal voice.
I flashed my visitor’s badge. “I have a date with Zariah Donati,” I lied.
He click-clacked on his computer and frowned at the screen. “She does have the lunch hour blocked off…” His brown eyes shot back to me, assessing me like a spore under a microscope. I was dressed semi-casually in black slacks and a polo with the Yankees logo on the sleeve. “You’re not her normal type, but she’s been acting weird lately, so maybe she’s switching things up.”
Jealousy burned through me, and I glared down at the man. “What’s her normal type?” I gritted out between clenched teeth.
He blinked at me, giving me another head-to-toe appraisal. “Stuffy. Boring. Total bags of dicks who all think the world revolves around them. They have this air about them that I don’t sense in you. Although, you aren’t coming across as Mr. Nice Guy either. But, well, let’s just say her tastes have drastically improved.” He nodded to his left. “Corner office. Her name is on the door.”
Her door was closed when I reached it. I briefly debated knocking but figured the full element of surprise was better. Twisting the knob, I stepped into the spacious office, closing the door and flipping the lock behind me.
It took her a few moments to shift her gaze from her computer screen, giving me time to take all of her in without interruption. A blazer hung off the back of the chair she was sitting in, leaving her in a silky beige top that dipped low. Her dark-red hair was flowing over one shoulder as she tilted her head to flip her gaze from a document on the desk to the screen. Her makeup was flawless, making those baby blues pop. I ached to taste that lush mouth that was painted that deep red she favored and would look perfect ringed around the base of my cock.
The rest of her body was hidden behind her desk, but I could easily picture it. Knee-length black skirt with a large, stylish belt around her middle. Her heels would be kicked off, and one foot would be rubbing against the sole of the other. She loved her sexy shoes, but they made her feet ache. Even in law school, she would wear those damn things, making her legs look endless and catching every fucker’s eye on not only Harvard’s campus but Boston College’s as well.
How many fights had she stopped me from getting into because of those damn shoes alone?
Then there was that ass of hers. Dear God, that ass. It still haunted my dreams and woke me up every night, hard as stone.
Her tongue peeked out, dampening those lips I’d always loved to taste, making them glisten. Fuck, she was the most beautiful creature I’d ever been blessed enough to set eyes on.
Every single inch of this woman owned me.
And she hated my guts.
I shifted, and she finally noticed my presence. Her body jolted in surprise as a combination of hatred and hunger filled her blue gaze. That hunger gave me hope. It told me that even though she’d spent the years we’d been apart plotting my death, she still wanted me. I could work with that. Turn her need for my touch into something deeper, strengthen it back to the love we’d once shared.
But first, I needed her to give me the chance to tell her my side of what had happened with my father. I’d been trying for weeks to get her to answer my calls, but I was tired of waiting. She was going to hear me out. If she didn’t believe me afterward, then I’d try to accept that. But I wasn’t going down without a fight.