Chapter 5: Chapter 5

She refused to apologize for the plane tickets. At least not vocally. As far as Sabrina was concerned, the fruit basket said it all: I don’t like you. I wish you weren’t here, but I have to suffer your presence. On the outside, some may think it’s a nice gesture, but those who’d been in her shoes understood the real message behind it. A fruit basket was the ultimate “fuck you” of baskets.

Judging by the smirks and darting eyes, she was confident the message was received. The problem was that none of the Hargreaves men seemed to give a crap. Hell, William was making a point to chomp on one of the bright-red apples, and Oliver was wearing the smallest of smiles, as if he was getting a real kick out of it.

Conner was…just Conner. Self-assured in that strong, silent way of his. He merely thanked her for the gift as they boarded the elevator and rode it down to the waiting car that was now carrying them to the restaurant where they would be meeting with her client.

Was she peeved that they were tagging along? You bet your ass. Sabrina didn’t work this hard for this long just to have a couple of men come riding in to try and steal her thunder from under her. She resented her father in a way for forcing them on her. Had she known that it would end up like this, she would have fought against the merger.

Yes, she knew the numbers made perfect sense. Absorbing the Hargreaves’ company was a good move on their part, and it stood to give them ample financial gains in the long-term, but she couldn’t help asking herself at what cost? To her, that is. Which was why she didn’t put up a big fight with her father. Sabrina’s motives were purely selfish, and as a professional, she had to keep her personal feelings out of it.

She cast Oliver, William, and finally Conner a look that felt somewhat scolding, like when a mother is preparing her wild children for public. “Mr. Thomas is a longtime client and friend of the family. I’ll do the talking, and I prefer the three of you to take notes.”

“So you want us to be silent partners,” William observed.

“Exactly.” This was her show, and she ran it. She prayed the look she cast each of them got her point across. No interference.

“That seems a little one-sided, doesn’t it, Oliver?” William asked, casting his eaten apple into the passenger side door’s cup holder.

“Seems like we’re wasting our time with this meeting.” Oliver wasn’t much for words, but Sabrina had a feeling that when he did speak, it was important.

The curious thing was that, hearing his words and meeting those stern, focused eyes of his had her questioning her stance on all of this. Was she being too stubborn? Too harsh? She already knew she was allowing her personal feelings to influence her decisions today, and especially where they were concerned. The problem was, she was mad at herself for making such a big mistake sleeping with Conner.

Worse, she was mad at herself for wanting more. And not just from him. Her eyes kept catching on William and Oliver, on their tightly-honed bodies, their handsome features, their strength of character, and worse, she liked the way they looked at her: like they were hungry for lunch and she was the only thing on the menu.

The weakness in her was appalling, and she was actively fighting against it. She just wasn’t so sure she’d win.

Conner spoke up, playing the role of the voice of reason. “It’s different from what we’re used to, but we’re coming on board. Being a new face—actually, three—it’s better for Sabrina to take the lead until all of our clients are familiar and comfortable with the change.”

Oliver and William looked to Conner, considered his words, and in their own way, accepted them.

“You’re probably right,” William conceded. “I hate when you’re right.”

“I always am. You should be used to it by now,” Conner teased, and Sabrina imagined a world in which the three men were boys, with Conner at the helm, directing them on what to do and how to behave. To her, he struck her as the most responsible, level-headed one.

Oliver made a noise under his breath that sounded almost like a scoff.

“Getting sick, Ollie? You should get that checked,” Conner told him.

Oliver cast him a sidelong look from his window seat. Sabrina expected a snappy comeback, but that was it, just a look. She found herself amused. Even if he didn’t speak a word, he still somehow managed to say a lot. In that one look, she could see the brotherly teasing, the cocky rebuttal that ached to be given voice, and the affection he had for his sibling. These three had a bond. A tight one at that. No wonder they came as a package deal.

In a way, she admired them. Being an only child came with moments of profound loneliness, especially when she was a kid. No one to talk to, to hold her secrets. No one to complain about her parents with, someone who could laugh and understand in equal measure. It had always been just her—and the occasional fair-weather friend. At least she had Janet now. The other ladies she called friends were merely acquaintances, women she met up with from time to time when they could all swing it, but their connection was superficial at best. Janet was the only one she truly connected with on a personal level, despite them being polar opposites. She was tried and true, and the only person in her life who never cast judgment on her. She could tell her anything—anything—and know she would be received with only love and acceptance.

The car rolled to a stop along the curb in front of the retro-chic restaurant located in the center of downtown. Not far from the office, it was still a hell of a drive when caught in evening traffic. It’d taken them almost thirty minutes for what should have been no more than ten just to navigate through the congestion. But in their line of work—and the size of the heels on her feet—it wouldn’t do to show up on foot. Status was a symbol highly prized among the top tiers of the business world. She and her colleagues had to project exactly the right image to keep the machine well-oiled.

While Sabrina waited for the driver to open her door, Conner helped himself. William and Oliver followed right behind, leaving her alone in the back seat. Sabrina used that brief moment to collect her bearings and get into business mode. She usually had the entire drive to get her thoughts together and remind herself of all the things that needed to be said and gone over, but this trip had proven quite the distraction.

When her door opened, Sabrina moved to swing her legs out, only to be met with an open hand, palm up, in her face. Rearing back to avoid poking her own eye out, she tried to make sense of the appendage.

“Miss Colloway,” came Conner’s smooth voice, and she realized with a start that he was offering to help her out of the car.

It wasn’t the first time, but Sabrina had grown so used to doing everything herself and declining such offers from her drivers that the whole thing felt almost foreign.

After a brief hesitation in which she considered pushing Conner’s hand aside and asserting herself, once again, as an independent woman, Sabrina slipped her hand into his and allowed the gentlemanly gesture to slide.

She wasn’t a bitch, and she didn’t want to carry herself as one. While she was feminist, she could also appreciate a nice gesture and accept it with womanly grace. In her mind, there had to be a balance. Men had their roles to play, and women theirs. The trick was finding a place in the middle to meet.

As she rose out of the car, Sabrina was met once again with the appreciative stares of William and Oliver, who stood just beyond the vehicle on the sidewalk, the soft yellow lighting of the restaurant’s dining room silhouetting them as it spilled out onto the street.

She hated leaving work so late, but she loved the ambiance nightlife provided. Especially in the city, when all of the lights twinkled and flashed, turning night into day, but without all that heat and glare that came with it.

“You look ravishing,” William commented as she stepped closer and Conner closed the door behind her with instructions to the driver to return in an hour.

“You already said that,” she said, aware of the blush creeping up her throat and into her cheeks. Why did these men affect her this way? She wasn’t unused to the attention, and she certainly had worked with her fair share of attractive men, but these men… There was some kind of magnetic draw that kept pulling her attention, tugging on it as if tethered by some invisible string, luring her into their web. Them the predator, her the prey.

The wolfish smile William wore as he hitched his elbow out for her to take coupled with Oliver’s quiet demeanor and Conner’s tangible strength bringing up the rear only solidified that feeling of being stalked, corralled, and cornered.

She should be scared, but the only feeling Sabrina could seem to muster was invigoration. Somehow, among all other men, they managed to make her feel appreciated, wanted, and somehow even more confident and bold.

Dangerous. That’s what the Hargreaves men were. And she was standing right in their cross hairs.