Tilly Bagshawe

Tilly Bagshawe 3-book Bundle: Scandalous, Fame, Friends and Rivals


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like a supermodel than a real estate executive. For a second, Morgan Graham forgot to be angry, standing and staring like a schoolboy. But he quickly regained his composure.

      ‘What do you want?’ he barked. ‘Don’t you think you’ve caused enough trouble for one day?’

      ‘I want to do the deal,’ said Sasha coolly. ‘I think you do, too.’

      Morgan Graham laughed in her face. ‘Forget it. I wouldn’t work with Wrexall now if you were the last firm on earth. You think I need you? I don’t need you. We’re Goldman Sachs. We can get another partner like that.’ He clicked his fingers imperiously.

      ‘You could,’ agreed Sasha, walking slowly towards him. ‘I know you don’t need us. But that’s not the point, is it, Mr Graham?’ She was only two feet away from him now, close enough for Morgan to see her flawless skin against the clinging black jersey of her dress and to smell her Rive Gauche perfume. He stopped packing away his papers and looked at her, his eyes sweeping hungrily over her glorious body. ‘The point is,’ Sasha paused for effect, ‘do you want us? And I think you do.’

      Morgan Graham thought about Anna. He thought about the way Sasha had humiliated him today. He thought about the joint venture with Wrexall, and how excited he’d been about it until this afternoon. Finally he thought about Sasha’s body, and how much he wanted to see her out of that expensive dress.

      ‘If I sign,’ he ran his hand languorously down her bare back, ‘will you sleep with me?’

      Wow, thought Sasha. This guy doesn’t beat around the bush. She flashed him her best, come-hither smile.

      ‘Put it this way, Mr Graham. If you don’t sign, I won’t sleep with you.’

      Morgan Graham grinned. He liked a woman he could spar with, a woman who liked the chase. Anna’s attempt at playing hard to get was wearing panties under her dress. And he did want to do this deal with Wrexall …

      ‘Do you have the paperwork with you?’

      ‘Of course.’

      ‘Good. Let’s see if you can convince me over dinner, shall we?’ Morgan Graham’s mistress was in for a long, lonely evening at Elaine’s.

      ‘You’re sure this is what you want, Jackson?’

      ‘Quite sure.’

      Bob Massey was depressed. He didn’t want to lose Sasha Miller. Not only was she a superstar in the making, not to mention easy on the eye, but she’d halved Bob’s personal workload since she’d joined his division. The girl appeared to have no life whatsoever outside the office and cheerfully put in sixteen-hour days whenever they had a deal on. But even Bob Massey had to admit that yesterday’s fuck-up was a firing offence. It was Dupree’s deal that the girl had nuked. Which meant it was ultimately his decision.

      ‘Couldn’t we stop her bonus and, I don’t know, give her a written warning or something? If we fire her she’ll go straight to one of our competitors. In a few years she’ll be a huge revenue generator for someone.’

      ‘I don’t care,’ Jackson said stubbornly. ‘If I see her face around here any more, I won’t be responsible for my actions.’

      He’d had a fitful night’s sleep. The sex with Pascale had been terrible, largely because Jackson couldn’t get Sasha out of his mind. He was still livid about her outburst at Graham. What made him even angrier was the way she got under his skin sexually. He never knew it was possible to dislike someone so much and want them so much at the same time. In the end Pascale had got up and gone home in the small hours of the morning, and Jackson knew he wouldn’t be seeing her again. Before long word would no doubt be spreading throughout Elite: Jackson Dupree had lost his touch. Yet another thing he blamed Sasha Miller for.

      It was time to face facts. Yes, she was bright, but hiring Sasha had been a huge mistake. She was too wilful, too much of a wild card.

      Jackson’s phone started buzzing. Morgan Graham Cell flashed across the screen. That’s all I need, thought Jackson, another ear bashing from Graham. He turned it off. ‘Let’s get her in here. I want to get this over with.’

      A few minutes later, a sober-looking Sasha walked into the boardroom. Ignoring Jackson, she smiled at Bob Massey and a couple of her other board-level supporters. They all avoided eye contact. Uh oh, thought Sasha. This is it, then.

      If only she’d been able to seal the deal with Morgan Graham last night! She came so close. She could feel him weakening. But in the end, she realized, it was the power game he was interested in. He’d toyed with her all through dinner, but he wasn’t going to sign the paperwork unless Sasha went home with him. No deal was worth that.

      ‘I imagine you know why you’re here?’ Lucius Monroe, the chairman, said grimly.

      ‘Actually, no.’ Sasha looked at Jackson. She wasn’t going to let him off the hook that easily. If you want to fire me, then go ahead and fire me. I’m not falling on my sword to save you the trouble.

      ‘This firm lost a very valuable piece of business yesterday, Sasha,’ said Monroe. ‘Now we’ve heard Mr Dupree’s version of events. Before we take any definitive action, we’d like to hear yours.’

      ‘Why?’ asked Sasha. ‘Do you think Mr Dupree might be lying?’

      Jackson exploded. ‘OK, that’s it.’ He got to his feet. ‘I’ve given you every chance, Sasha. We all have. But this is the end of the line. You’re fired.’

      ‘Hold on a minute, Jackson …’ said Bob Massey. But Sasha didn’t need a defender.

      ‘And what am I fired for exactly?’ She glared defiantly at Jackson. ‘Losing us the Goldman deal? Or refusing to go to bed with you?’

      ‘What?’ Jackson roared. ‘In what alternate universe do you think I would want to sleep with a ball-breaker like you?’

      ‘Jackson!’ Old man Monroe had gone white. He was imagining the sexual discrimination lawsuit. Sasha Miller standing outside the Supreme Court with a fifty-million-dollar Wrexall cheque in her hands.

      ‘It’s all right,’ said Sasha. ‘I’m used to it. And to think, I’m the one being fired because I don’t know when to keep my mouth shut.’ She knew she was in the wrong. That this wasn’t about Jackson’s ego, it was about her screw-up. But guilt and anger at herself only fuelled her aggression. Besides, what did it matter now? They were firing her anyway.

      ‘Excuse me.’ Lottie Grainger burst in looking flushed. ‘I’m sorry,’ she mumbled. ‘I don’t mean to intrude. But have you seen this?’ She waved a piece of paper at Jackson. Taking it from her he saw it was a printout from Bloomberg news. It was less than a minute old.

      ‘I don’t believe it.’ He read it twice more before handing it wordlessly around the table. Sasha watched the board member’s faces light up one by one, like a string of Christmas lights. Jackson turned to her accusingly. ‘How the hell did you pull that off?’

      Sasha looked at him blankly. ‘What are you talking about?’

      ‘Goldman Sachs’s Private Equity Group just put out a press release,’ explained Lottie. ‘Morgan Graham said he signed a joint venture with Wrexall Dupree this morning. He says he’s excited to be moving into the growing boutique hotel market and that he’s looking forward to working closely with the Wrexall team. He even mentions you by name.’ Lottie beamed at Sasha.

      So it’s a reprieve! No wonder Jackson looks so pissed off.

      ‘Does this mean I’m un-fired?’

      Bob Massey hugged her. ‘It certainly does. Congratulations, Sasha. You can go back to your desk now. We still have some other business to discuss.’

      Twenty minutes later, Jackson stormed out of the boardroom with a face like thunder. He found