Summary: Could a man dedicated to the night have it all?
Author's Note: For those of you who thought I'd never continue this story. Here it is. Sorry, my old computer crashed so I had to save to get this brand new one. LOL!
Disclaimer: I don't own anything.
Rating: T
Chapter II
Karen had had enough of her boss.
Rupert Meyers antagonized her the moment she'd stepped off the elevator, walked the short distance through the lobby, and enter Trust Meyers private corner in the corporate building. He was edgy, persistent, and nervous about the upcoming meeting with Bruce Wayne.
His agitation was crowding her, leaving her slightly irritable, especially after last night. Her egotistic ex-boyfriend had made an unannounced visit to her apartment. Steven said he wanted to talk, but there were no adequate words to make up for his betrayal.
He cheated on her and with numerous women working in the building.
"Be sure to notify me Ms. Miller the second Mr. Wayne signs the contracts." Mr. Meyers said his highhanded manner grating on her nerves.
"Yes sir," said Karen. She understood Wayne Enterprises was the high priced clientele her boss and many other employees dreamed of; a merger such as this would ensure an increase in salary, longer vacations, and benefits. As much as she welcomed a friendly boost to her paycheck, Karen was less than optimistic. Despite the fact the economy was slowly tittering towards recovery, those deemed an asset to their employers' maintained employment. She wondered if Wayne Enterprises would have to downsize a good number of employees at Trust Meyers.
It was a subject she'd have to approach carefully, especially to the new principal interest holder to the largest multi-international corporation in the world.
Karen hadn't noticed Mr. Meyers had been rambling until she saw his bushy eyebrows bunch together and his lip grow tight. "Ms. Miller, are sure you are capable of handling this…"
"I have everything under control Mr. Meyers," said Karen as she quickly sifted through documents in her hand, before stuffing the paperwork into her briefcase. "You can have complete confidence in me." She straightened, briefcase in hand, purse slung over her shoulder, trench coat hanging over her left arm.
He looked at her with a certain level of hesitation. "If there are any problems…"
Karen concealed the edge rising inside her. The notions her boss found her incompetent and ill equipped to handle this merger affronted her. She knew in her heart she could pull off this business venture. Hell, she had graduated at the top of her business class at Gotham University and had shown exemplary work upon her employment at the firm. Mr. Meyers continuously recommended her to clients and proudly boasted her talents in front of Mr. Wayne.
Why the sudden hesitation?
Did he wish to handle the proceedings himself? As men often do, Mr. Meyers probably would have like to be at the meeting himself. Nevertheless, Mr. Wayne had requested she take part in the luncheon.
Karen reached out and touched her boss on the shoulder. Even though, Rupert Meyers walked around with a stick up his butt, he was a kind employer and paid his employees as well as he could. He only wanted the best for them all.
"You have my assurance sir," she said with a smile. "Everything will turn out fine." He nodded and turned to head back to his tiny office.
Sighing, Karen turned and marched down the aisle towards the lobby. She felt scores of eyes boring into her back, knowing every co-worker was placing their economic future in her hands. She locked eyes with a steaming blonde. Beth sat in her cubicle, vexed, and extremely hostile. A fleeting sense of satisfaction kindled Karen's spirits in knowing she would be having a close one on one with Bruce Wayne. Sadly, it was a business lunch, nothing more.
A swift descent to the ground floor, Karen exited the complex building housing multiple small companies and firms, and stepped in a crisp Gotham afternoon. Autumn was fast on approach; temperatures were dipping in the high sixties. Much to her relief she didn't have to wait long or put on her heavy coat. A silver grey Rolls Royce was parked in front of the building and an elderly man with an English accent addressed her as Alfred and opened the back door.
It took her a second to remember it was Mr. Wayne, not Lucius Fox, who would be handling the negotiations.
"Mr. Wayne," she said, clearing her throat, trying to avoid the way her stomach clenched when he smiled at her and gestured she take a seat with noticeably large hands.
Karen let out a breath as she sank into the soft, tan leather, and allowed the soothing warm atmosphere to overtake her. In a moment, the luxury vehicle pulled from the curb and eased into traffic. Karen didn't waste the opportunity in enlightening Bruce Wayne on the benefits of undertaking a company such as Trust Meyers.
"As you can see," she said pulling her portfolio out her briefcase to display the graphics and figures, "we hold a high rate for good customer service, not to mention consultations which have proven reliable to our…"
Bruce chuckled a heartily, shaking his head. "I'm pretty sure we'll have plenty of time for facts and figures Ms. Miller."
"Oh," she said, giving a sweet smile. "Of course." She leaned forward and slid the files back into her case.
"I thought we could use this time to get to know one another," he suggested, angling his body in the seat in order to gain a better look at her.
Karen caught her breath, a touch of rouge glowing on her cheeks. The last thing she expected was to be struck by how handsome he was and his insinuation they become more acquainted.
What could he want to know?
There wasn't anything truly remarkable about her. At twenty-six her life, in her opinion, had barely begun. She had accomplished a few of her goals, but there was still a great deal left to strike off her list. She wanted to attribute more to society, to Gotham. She wanted to make a change. She wanted to save it.
Some of her clients came from desperate situations. Many were seeking ways to save the crumbling businesses or counsel so they could avoid unfortunate instances that would cost them their fragile incomes. Karen offered her knowledge and a helping hand. She was proud with all she'd done to bring peace of mind to those hoping to see their dreams flourish, but she wanted to do more.
The city was still rotting and not many were paying attention.
She felt Bruce's eyes on her and turned to gaze at the billionaire, groomed, and impeccably dressed in a fine Italian suits His rich brown hair was parted and combed, each strand in its proper place. A well-endowed forehead bordered prominent eyebrows and a pair of gleaming eyes.
Karen's heart ticked madly.
She always had a weakness for eyes. She willed herself not to become lost in the soft hazel green pupils that peered at her with such clarity and distinction.
Beautiful. Sad. They looked at her with a soulful reflection of a wounded child. She dropped her eyes to the carpet, gripping her hands in order to offset the blood rushing to her brain. Giddy, she tapped her foot.
Bruce noticed the subtle change and frowned. "Are you alright?"
She rotated her head. "Yes…of course…why?"
"Nothing," he said. "You just look tense."
Karen smiled. "I'm fine."
She sought interest in the outside world as the luxury car drove through downtown Gotham. Bruce probed her with questions; she answered, while secretly praying they'd reach the restaurant soon; the close confine of the car was becoming quite intense. She scoffed, silently reprimanding herself, as another face invaded her mind. The last thing she desired was relapse in judgment as Steven's face flashed. She danced around that fool for two years; she wasn't ready to dive head first into the pool again, despite what her primal instincts were signaling.
Yes, Bruce Wayne was gorgeous, but he wasn't exactly available. He was dating Gwendolyn Harris, the shipping heiress, and even if he was attainable she wasn't ready. She didn't want to get hurt again. A man like Bruce traveled in a certain circle and courted the most beautiful women. She held her own in the mainstream public but not against fashion models and movie stars. Sighing, she tucked a plain, brown strand behind her ear. She was so far in her thoughts she didn't hear him speak.
"Do you really think I'm arrogant?"
Karen nearly jumped in her seat. "Huh! What?"
Bruce laughed. "Relax…I was only remarking on the comment you made two days ago."
Her face turned bright red. "Mr. Wayne," she counted her words carefully. "I want to apologize about that. It was totally out of line. I wasn't in any way…"
"You're honesty hasn't failed to amuse me Ms. Miller," Bruce's eyes twinkled, sending good chills down her spine. He lolled his head against the soft leather, relaxed in the rich environment, gazing at her. "Don't stop now."
Karen braved a smile. She nodded then returned her eyes to the streets moving by quickly, but felt his eyes on her. She, at the moment, never felt so aware of a man's presence. Her skin grew hot, dotted with beads of sweat all over body. When the Rolls Royce came to a halt, she counted her blessings. Alfred put the car in park, exited the driver side. Collecting her purse, Karen was stunned to receive not the valet's but Bruce's hand instead.
She hesitated.
"If you don't mind Ms. Miller," Bruce said. "Our reservations cancel at two."
Nodding, she slipped her hand in his, and hoped he wouldn't see she was shivering. If he did it was all due to the weather. Karen was alarmed when he roped her arms around his and led her grandly towards the Ritz Marlton Hotel; a recent acquisition of the wealthy entrepreneur. Several photographers snapped pictures of them. Bruce smiled and waved. Karen was in a whirlwind of emotion.
What was he doing?
He was parading her as if she were his latest squeeze. It was extremely unprofessional and she vowed she would put an end to whatever game he was playing.
"Mr. Wayne," Karen stated, once seated at a more private section of the dining room. She spread her hands across the white linen and took a deep breath. "I hope you understand that I'm here to do a job, and I intend to do that job to the best of my ability."
He looked at her with penetrating eyes. Beautiful. Sad. She swallowed, wetting her lips. "I wouldn't have it any other way," he said in a low whisper. Karen pressed her mouth together and nodded. Unfolding her napkin, she placed it on her lap. He understood. She would accept that.
A waiter offered them their menus before reciting the main course of the day. Roast partridge braised in a blood orange sauce. Her appetite wetted, Karen selected that as an entrée and asked for a glass of mineral water. Bruce ordered poached salmon in a lemon sauce with a 1967 chateau to serve him.
Karen was intrigued. He had taste. He knew his wine. She had some idea about quality vintage thanks to Steven. She cut her thoughts away from her ex and declined Bruce's offer of wine.
She wanted to keep her head clear.
"So," said Bruce who took a sip of the enriched fermented drink once the waiter returned with a bottle. Satisfied, he nodded his head and the young man poured. "How long have you worked at Trust Meyers."
It was a legitimate question. "Three years," Karen answered, sipping her mineral water. "I majored in accounting at Gotham University, a minor in psychology."
"Was business something you've always wanted to do?"
"Yes," said Karen. "It deals with my two favorite subjects: people and money." Bruce arched an eyebrow. She grinned. "Not your money of course. I genuinely like to help people who know the value of a dollar."
She regretted the words the instant they came flying out of her mouth. She didn't mean to sound critical, particularly after breezing through an insert in the newspaper's society section. He had wrecked a $100,000 dollar boat because he liked big splashes.
"Well," he chuckled. "I hope you'll overlook the immense support I've shown to numerous charities."
Shame washed over Karen. As predictable her big mouth had overruled sense and logic. She swore she'd learn to curb her tongue. She was starved when the waiter rolled a cart to their table, unveiling a delightful array of delectable food. Her stomach grumbled as she inhaled the aroma. In haste, she'd skipped breakfast, rushing to work to gather the documents, and have quick word with her boss.
"It's nice to see someone has an appetite," said Bruce. "Most women I know stick to salad and water."
Karen let out a small giggle. "Give me a Whopper value meal anytime, that's the way to my heart." As they ate, he asked more questions, some pertaining to her personal interests and life. Karen thought it was highly irregular, inappropriate, but answered as she could. She still had to play her cards in order for this merger to succeed. If she failed, not only would everyone despise her, Mr. Meyers would ensure she never work in Gotham again.
"Are you married?" asked Bruce as he took the last bite of his salmon.
She coughed, reaching for her water. "No," she croaked.
"Do you have a boyfriend?"
Karen drew back in her seat, enraged. "I don't see how that is any of your business."
"I was curious," Bruce replied offhandedly. Taking up his wine glass, he drank.
Staying her anger, Karen picked up her briefcase, and set it firmly on the table. "May we finally discuss this merger?"
The billionaire wiped his mouth on his napkin. "If that is what you wish?"
"Of course."
"Very well," he pushed his empty plate aside and poured more wine into his glass. He took a portfolio from her and listened as she rambled for the next half hour. "Where do I sign," he finally said.
Karen marked the look on his face. He was utterly bored, so why the interest in the company. She bent over and retrieved a pen from her purse, handing it to him. "Right where I've marked Mr. Wayne."
Gripping the fountain pen, Bruce skimmed it lightly over the ivory sheets and paused. His squinted his eyes as he read the black lettering. He flipped page after page and Karen sat, her fingers crossed under the table. "Hmm," he murmured. "Perhaps I should have the board review this before I make a final decision."
Karen's world spun. "But…but why?" she cried. "I've overlooked the contract and so have Mr. Meyers and his lawyer. They didn't foresee a problem."
Bruce capped the pen and laid it on the thirty page document. "I understand, but I want to make sure there are no frailties or setbacks."
"As you wish." Karen collected the unsigned contract and placed back in her briefcase, the whole time curbing to desire to scream and demand what was truly wrong. Straightening, she met Bruce Wayne's amiable smile, and steeled. He offered her some coffee, but her throat was too dry to swallow anything at the moment. She was tormented by his reason not to sign. It was a sweet deal.
"Mr. Wayne," she began, desperate to know what his motives were. Her voice trailed as a shadow fell on their table. Raising her eyes, Karen marked a woman standing off to the right. She was beautiful, slender, glamorously dressed. Brilliant red hair piled on top of her head was pinned with a jeweled barrette. Her emerald green eyes flashed angrily as she stood clutching her purse, a hand on her hip. Karen shifted nervously in her seat, pushing a brown strand behind her ear.
"Gwen," Bruce said in sheer surprise. "Fancy meeting you here."
"Fancy!" The scarlet haired beauty cried. "I thought we were having lunch today, but I can see your hands are full." She glared at Karen.
"Didn't I send word that I'll be in a meeting today," Bruce explained.
"You've sent me nothing!" Gwendolyn shook with rage, folding her arms.
Rising, Bruce attempted to appease his lady friend temper, which was legendary. People took interest in the heated development; they whispered to one another. "We'll talk about this later."
The heiress screamed, "What for? You're never around when I want to talk! You're always busy!"
"Would you calm down…"
"Don't tell me to calm down…" she seethed and glowered at Karen. "If you're diddling her Bruce…just tell…"
He took hold of her arms. "No…damn it…Gwen…Karen is a consultant from Trust Meyers. We're discussing a merger."
Gwendolyn wrenched out his hands. "It's always business when you don't want to tell me the truth. Is that you're excuse for the nights you leave me alone? Business!"
Karen knew Bruce was angry by the way the muscles in his jaw throbbed. He was trying to keep his cool for this outrageous woman. "Gwen…we'll discuss it…later."
"Don't bother." She snatched up a glass of water and dashed it in his face. "Good-bye Bruce."