CHAPTER 51: CONSPIRE GRUDGES & BODY LOTION

JOE HART’S BUSINESS COMPLEX.

Click!

Click!

Click!

The soft, gentle click of a woman’s high heels echoed off the polished exquisite marble floors as the glass doors slid open.

She entered inside the office, ’Miss Mary’ clearly written on a small plastic placard on her blouse, she moved with the kind of walk that didn’t ask for attention but demanded it anyway. Tall with an hourglass shape, and dangerously poised. Her satin white blouse clung dangerously over her body, tucked perfectly into a pencil skirt that hugged her hips. Glossy chestnut curls framed her full, parted slightly as she stepped inside, clutching a slim flat file to her chest.

Her heels slowed as she approached the two men seated comfortably on the office sofa, both dressed in tailor cut black suits that looked like they’d been ordered straight from divine.

The office was nothing short of elite. A panoramic window wall overlooked the skyline, its golden tint filtering the early morning sun. The walls were dark oak, fitted with brushed steel trims and modern art installations. A glass table stood between the sofas, with a crystal decanter of bourbon catching the light like a quiet invitation.

Miss marry stopped just before the seated men.

"Good morning, Mr. Joe Hart. Good morning to you too, Mr. Keith Hall," she said, her voice a blend of velvet and precision.

Joe hart looked up from his glass of whiskey he hadn’t yet sipped. Late 40’s, with slicked back silvering hair and a sharks grin.

"Good morning, Miss Mary..." he smirked, his eyes dragging over her like a cat toying with its prey.

"How was your night? I know it was...splendid."

A deep blush crept up her cheeks as she looked away briefly, lips parted in a flustered smile.

"Here’s the file you asked me to compile on the subject... Maximus Prime," she said, handling the file delicately to Joe.

He took it without breaking eye contact with her.

"Thank you, you are dismissed Miss Mary."

She gave a respectful nod and turned, a moment later the door clicked shut behind her, and the two immediately switched to serious mode upon her departure.

Joe opened the file, flipping through the documents quickly, scanning numbers, headlines, photos. Keith hall— his attorney, late 30s, colder demeanor, sharp jawline, and eyes like a hawk’s— leaned in closer.

"He’s a 22 year old investor," Keith started, his voice very much even, "Self-made millionaire. Sharp, calculative and cautious. It’ll be hard to ruffle someone like him.... legally"

Joe chuckled, low and dry, his eyes still scanning the contents of the documents.

"I know, but look here..."

He tapped a highlighted article halfway through the file, "He’s got a controversial past. Do you think we can exploit that?"

Keith Hall shook his head slowly.

"To an extent, you see... he’s been exonerated, proven innocent, no convictions, no lasting dirt. The public will love the absolute redemption arc really fucking well... and we’d be doing him a favour."

They continued flipping through the file. Real estate portfolios, public appearances, stock trades and even his food industry business. A grand picture was forming.

"Look at this," Keith Hall muttered. "He’s affiliated with the powerful conglomerate, Sawyer Group. Here’s a picture of him and their young heir at the matriarch’s 80th Birthday ceremony."

Joe Hart hummed softly in disappointment. "That would make him more harder to touch..."

Joe kept looking through the files and then paused on a page marked: Residential Assets.

"Look at this too," he muttered. "Real estate. that’s where he’s making the bulk."

Keith scanned the page.

"Buys rundown properties, renovates them, then turns them into luxury units and flips for 3x profits... its aggressive, but genius."

Joe sat back, thinking. The gears in his head turning with a smug grin plastered across his face.

"So we don’t go after the man..." he leaned forward, his eyes locked on keith. "We go after the income."

Keith raised an eyebrow. "You’re thinking of intercepting his real estate deals?

Joe nodded with a devilish glint in his eye.

"I’ll start a cold war on our turf. I’ll out bid, out buy and bleed him dry. Every run down property he eyes, I’ll already own it."

Keith exhaled through his nose, skeptically.

"Thats ambitious. Might take months not to mention that its costly."

Joe smirked.

"I’ve been in the investing game way too long to let some beginner schmuck humiliate me like that."

He clicked his whiskey glass against the table, then looked out the massive window.

"Lets see how he’ll handle pressure. Real pressure."

»»»«««

Dressa sat down next to Maximus, handing him a bottle of water from the cooler. "Alright, I need to know where the hell you learnt to move like that..."

Maximus glanced at her. "Training"

She raised an eyebrow. "Just training?"

He smirked, "Yeah, a lot of training"

She shook her head, exhaling. "I was expecting you to be good, but not pro-athlete level."

Maximus leaned back on his palms, gazing at the ocean. "Guess I don’t like losing... just like when I was running against you."

Dressa turned and studied him for a moment before laughing softly. "Yeah, I kinda noticed."

A comfortable silence stretched between them, they had just finished an exhausting game of pickup basketball and their strength blinked with exhaustion.

The sound of waves filling the space they sat in.

In the distance, other beachgoers were laughing, splashing in the water, or lounging under umbrellas. The air was warm, the salty breeze refreshing as ever.

Dressa nudged him with her knee. "You having fun yet?"

Maximus glanced at her, then at the basketball court they had just dominated. He smirked.

"Yeah, I think I am."

The ocean breeze rolled in, bringing with it the scent of sunscreen as Dressa rummaged through her bag.

Maximus watched her from the corner of his eyes, still cooling off from the intense pickup basketball match.

The heat of the midday sun was strong, but he barely felt it due to his skin colour. But Dressa’s case was different—

She grabbed his hand suddenly, stunning Maximus in the process.

Dressa wasn’t looking directly at him. Instead, she held up a tube of sunscreen, her fingers gripping it tightly as if she had debated whether to do this or not. Well from her look, she didn’t have a choice.

A faint blush dusted her cheeks, barely noticeable beneath the golden tan of her skin.

She cleared her throat. "Be a gentleman, would yah..."

Maximus blinked, processing her words for a second. "You could do it yourself, you know."

Dressa pursed her lips, rolling her eyes. "Yeah, obviously but its hard to reach my back."

There was a brief pause before she added, "And besides, you should be grateful that I’m letting you touch my skin."

Maximus smirked slightly, taking the bottle from her hands. "You’re the one blushing," he pointed out.

Dressa scoffed, crossing her arms. "I am totally not doing that..."

Maximus didn’t dare push the topic any further. Instead, he popped the can open squeezing some sunscreen onto his palms.

the scent of coconut oil mixed with air as he rubbed his hands together before reaching for her arm.

His fingers met her skin, and dressa immediately tensed up.

Maximus worked methodically, rubbing the sunscreen over her toned shoulders and down the length of her arms.

His hands were firm, efficient— there was nothing playful or teasing about it. He was simply doing what she had asked him to do.

But that didn’t stop Dressa’s mind form wandering.

Her heartbeat quickened slightly as his fingers moved down to her forearms, his touch steady and warm.

Maximus on the other hand, was entirely focused on applying the sunscreen.

His expression remained calm and unreadable as he spread the lotion over her exposed skin, making sure it was evenly applied.

She watched him through lowered lashes. He was so serious about this.

The way he concentrated, the way he moved... it was the same look he had when they were playing basketball earlier, competitive demeanor plastered all over his face.

And for some reason, that made the whole thin even more flustering that it already was.

"Turn around," Maximus said with a low baritone voice.

Dressa hesitated before complying.

"Should we go somewhere more ... private" Maximus said softly almost as if he was whispering in her ears.

"Uhhh?" Dressa stared at him, completely speechless and in awe.