Accardi Chapter 38

Matteo released her, causing her to sway with the weight of his words. She watched him walk over to O’Brien and extend his hand. O’Brien smiled and spoke with Matteo, all the while, his eyes kept venturing to her. The elevator dinging again stole her attention. She looked back to see the other four men in their party exiting the second elevator. Leo and Alexander gave her a questioning look while Marco rolled his eyes and the new guy, Frankie, busted out in a full-belly laugh. Genevieve frowned and went for the bathroom, Leo’s shadow following in her wake. 

Genevieve rushed into the room and immediately went for the mirror. She groaned. Matteo had been right. Her lipstick was smudged, her hair had fallen from her updo, her shirt and skirt were wrinkled and her eyes were glowing bright as if she’d been seconds away from seeing heaven… again. She splayed her hands wide on the marble counter and dropped her head. She looked back at her reflection and nodded firmly once. The real work hadn’t even started. She splashed her face with water, fixed up the rest of her appearance and strode out the door with new confidence.

Leo was leaning back against the wall just outside of the bathroom. She nodded at him and headed for the dining room.

“You’re playing with fire,” Leo said quietly behind her.

“I know exactly what I’m playing with, Leo,” she hissed under her breath. “I was just distracting him. He’s…” she trailed off, not wanting to divulge anything too personal about him. 

“Afraid of heights,” Leo finished anyway. “He’ll be distracted the entire meeting too. Don’t do anything reckless. This meeting is important.”

Genevieve groaned. That’s why she did it in the first place! She ignored him and continued walking. She noticed Matteo staring at her from his chair opposite O’Brien. He had his arm slung on the back of the chair beside him. The same chair occupied by a breathtakingly beautiful redhead. She stopped in her tracks. The table sat ten people. Between Matteo and his entourage, O’Brien, the redhead and two of O’Brien’s other associates there was only one chair remaining: the one beside O’Brien himself. She narrowed her eyes at Matteo who kept his face unreadable as slate stone. 

When she managed to force her feet to reach the table. O’Brien shoved back his chair and pulled hers out for her.

“Thank you,” Genevieve whispered, sitting on the side of the chair furthest from O’Brien.

“No need to thank me,” O’Brien said quickly.

His thick Irish accent was panty-melting. She wasn’t sure what she’d expected him to look like but his youthful skin, piercing green eyes and well-styled blond hair were quite attractive, made even more so by the cheek-splitting smile he sent her way.

“Your name, Love? My dear Accardi didn’t tell me he’d be bringing an angel along with him,” O’Brien purred, invading her space. 

“Ge…”

“Miss Sinclair,” Matteo interrupted. 

“My name is Gen,” Genevieve repeated, returning Matteo’s glare. “I’m the new accountant,” she explained further. 

“There is no way a beautiful woman such as yourself can do something as boring as accounting,” he mused, placing his elbow on the table to rest his head on his upturned palm. “I have a certificate to prove it,” she said, smiling back. It was her favorite line to deliver when she was flirting. The last time she said it was to…

“Where the fuck is the waiter?” Matteo barked, flagging down a passing man already overloaded with dish trays. 

“Don’t mind him,” O’Brien whispered. “He’s just worried I’ll steal you away the same way he stole my PR Rep from me.”

Genevieve raised her brow. “Oh, so Mr. Accardi stole Miss Kennedy from you?” She asked, giving Matteo a pointed look.

She felt O’Brien’s breath fan her neck and she pulled away. “She was good at making elevator rides much less taxing too.”

“Every negotiation tactic you plan to use diminishes with each word you speak to her, O’Brien,” Matteo warned. 

Genevieve glanced over to see him flipping a knife between his fingers. His other arm remained along the back of the redhead knockout’s chair. Instead of letting the jealousy claw her stomach to shreds she smiled at the shy-looking woman and held her hand out. 

“Genevieve.”

The woman returned her smile. “Maisy.”

“What’s your role here?” Gen asked.

Maisy rolled her eyes. “Pawn. You?”

Gen looked between the two men. “Seemingly the same. Care to switch seats?” 

“Finally, someone has some manners,” Maisy said. 

Both women pushed their chairs back. Matteo’s arm fell limply to the side while he used his other to plunge his knife into the table. The two women nodded at each other as they passed by. She glared at Matteo as she yanked the chair back and sat. His hand slid up her back, caressing the soft material there before finding a home on the skin at the nape of her neck. He squeezed her there once in warning as he sipped the whisky in his other hand. 

O’Brien chuckled. “Seems the women will rule us soon enough, after all, won’t they Accardi?”

“Soon?” Matteo asked, a slight tilt to his lips. 

O’Brien laughed out loud. “I see your point,” he said, giving Maisy a look of appraisal. “I suppose all that’s left is to discuss the acquisition of your beautiful track. How does five million sound?”

Genevieve snorted before she could stop herself. All eyes turned to her, apart from Matteo’s who continued to watch O’Brien with indecision. 

“I apologize for speaking out of turn, but are you crazy? I’ve run the numbers myself and Diego makes six times that a year in revenue. Anyone would be an idiot to sell it for less. If you want the track then you should know that more than anyone. What benefit would we have in signing such a deal?”

O’Brien watched her with an expression of curious awe before he looked back at Matteo. “She’s not part of this,” Matteo explained. 

“I beg your pardon but I’ve been working on this deal for…”

Matteo’s hand tightened at the nape of her neck, telling her without words to stop talking. 

“Ten million,” Matteo countered. Gen gaped at him.

“Six,” O’Brien returned. 

Matteo sighed. “Eight and you can have it within the month and get rights at my new track in Austin.”

O’Brien’s eyebrows shot to his hairline. He sat back in his chair and swirled his drink. He shook his head. “Declan’s got you nervous, huh?”

The hand on her neck tightened causing Gen to drop her head. His hold immediately loosened and he lightly massaged the skin there before releasing it completely. Matteo leaned forward over the table and interlaced his fingers.

“Declan doesn’t have me scared. He has me pissed beyond definition. Almost as pissed as you probably were when he took over 35 percent of your turf last year.”

O’Brien’s smile vanished for the first time since she sat down. Maisy shifted nervously in her chair. Matteo had definitely struck a nerve.

“Eight million and *exclusive* rights to the track in Austin. And I want an invitation to the opening,” O’Brien countered before holding his hand out. 

“We have a deal,” Matteo said, taking hold of O’Brien’s hand. When O’Brien went to pull his hand back though, Matteo pulled him further over the table. “Along with the understanding that if *anyone* touches what’s *mine*, any deals will be rendered void and I’ll come at you with the power of not one but three severely pissed off Italians along with every weapon at their disposal.”

She looked back and forth between the two men in confusion, wondering what they could be talking about. O’Brien’s eyes slid over to Geneveive. His gaze dropped and rose slowly, taking her in. Matteo’s hand tightened, making O’Brien’s lecherous smile tighten at the corners. He sighed. 

“Fine. We have a deal.”

“Make sure the others know. She’s mine.”

O’Brien nodded and Matteo released his hand.