Four: The Bait

Lucas Wolfe Wainright has never been a patient man. He growls at his phone every time he tries reconnecting with Red. A couple times, he even yells at his assistant whenever she tells him that Red is unavailable. He has been stuck attending boring meetings all day. His upcoming trip to Europe makes him work harder, and stays in the office for longer hours, to ensure the company is clear of any future, foreseeable problems while he's away. Not that he'll stop work while he's in Europe, but the trip is part of his tradition.

Every year, he takes his yacht over the Mediterranean Sea for a couple weeks of much needed R&R. In previous years, he would fill those two weeks with partying with whichever friends came, and snogging with whatever woman held his interest. But for the past three years, he finds the notion of spending two weeks, or even more than a day with the same annoying people drives him bonkers. He has been quiet about his trips, opting to take Tiger and sometimes Micah on board. When he feels the carnal needs, he orders the captain to take him ashore so he can pick up a girl or two to keep him company for a night.

It is imperative that he gets his fill of Red before he leaves so that he can enjoy his vacation, so he can purge his mind of the naughtiest fantasies he has ever had for a woman. That moment they had in her office made him see fireworks, he doesn't doubt that spending the night with her in bed will be even more explosive.

If only she'll pick up the damn phone!

He peruses the dossier that Tiger handed him on Saturday night. If he hadn't met Red in person, he would have thought she's an old bore. Mildred Ann Thorne, only daughter of the late Patrick and Renee Thorne of Los Angeles, became an orphan when her parents died in a car accident. Investigations pointed to reckless, drunk driving, killing the father instantly and sending the mother through a short-lived coma before succumbing to her internal injuries. Both were stage actors and were coming from an after-show party when the other driver lost control and sent their car flying into a ravine. Little Mildred had to live with her estranged grandmother in Florida for years until she moved to NYC to study Fine Arts.

Tiger has listed all of her known employs and apprenticeships at different establishments. Armed with excellent references, experience in the field, and start-up money from her grandmother, Red bravely opened her own studio. Three years into it, Red and Red Ink Studio were featured in several tattoo magazines on print and online, and recently, in a popular men's magazine.

Wolfe reads each article, discovering that Red doesn't like the spotlight, which upon meeting her doesn't surprise him one bit, despite the allure of being a tattoo artist. Oftentimes, she attributes her success to the people she employs and her many loyal clients, sixty percent of which are the rich and famous. Other than being a tattoo artist, nothing much is interesting about her. Even the undisclosed information Tiger managed to acquire doesn't pose much hurrah to anyone let alone Wolfe. She was a straight A student. She had excellent credit. She lives a straight up life. Not too many partners even though she is definitely a looker. She doesn't party. Nor does she drink or smoke. She is clear of any drug use and diseases. How can she be so boring yet so interesting at the same time? And furthermore, how can Wolfe convince her to give in to his commands? Give in to him?

Then suddenly, it comes to him. A wicked grin spreads on his face. He relaxes on his chair, with arms over his head with an idea swirling in his mind. If Red won't give in through the phone, he'll have to make sure she comes to him.

****

When Nana tells her the day before that she plans to visit a sick friend back in Boca Raton, Red is saddened. But when it strikes her that she has one free Sunday morning all to herself, she knows exactly what she wants to do. After a quick update online, she packs her gym bag, and then runs out of her apartment excitedly.

It has been months since she attended a kickboxing class. She has been stressed the whole week.

Wolfe Wainright finally gives up after day three. It almost makes her disappointed that he lost interest on her that quickly but is glad for the reprieve. When it becomes apparent that he has stopped calling, and in a fit of unexplained despair, she does what any sane person would do, she googles him and is amazed by the amount of information readily available to anyone.

Wolfe, born Lucas Wolfe Wainright, is indeed a billionaire tycoon, although he is one of those lucky people born with a silver spoon in their mouths. His father Gordon Wainright started his empire buying and selling real estate. While he was building his millions, he married Wolfe's mother, Greta Miloski, a Russian ballerina, who passed away giving birth to her son. Gordon re-married four more times and is currently engaged to a woman closer to Wolfe's age than his. Sites don't reveal about any other legitimate children Gordon has, but speculates that he fathered a few other children outside marriage but never owned to them.

Having married a European national once again, Gordon decided to live in London for a few years while his son studied at Oxford. Once Wolfe was done, he moved back to this side of the pond to take over his aging father's empire. He managed to make what his father started bigger and better, surviving the most recent market crash while most companies suffered. Due to this, Wolfe has been featured and interviewed by just about every magazine that existed, whether it had anything to do with business or not.

He has been, at least more than one time, on the list of most eligible bachelors in NYC. There are also more than enough photos of him paired up with different women--celebrities, models, and socialites to round out the pack. That's when she decides she has too much information on Wolfe. And that she has made the right decision to stay away from him.

She makes it fifteen minutes before the kickboxing class starts. Red chooses a spot in the back of the class just to make sure she can do a quick getaway if needed. Thankfully, she is in better shape than anticipated. Throughout high school, she made use of her lanky legs and joined track, continuing throughout her college years. After spending some time with the different machines, she decides to round out her workout on a treadmill. She is halfway through her goal when a cheer greets her.

"Red! You finally surfaced!" Red looks beside her to see Micheline, a gym friend, smiling from ear to ear.

"Hey, M. It has been a while." She pants. "You running or chatting?"

"Chatting. I just had a session with Bruce. That guy's a tyrant. I thought my muscles would explode at some point. He got me doing inclined crunches with a medicine ball. Fifty of them!" When it looks that Red will not be offering a comment while running, Micheline continues, "I know I complain about my belly fat all the time, but fifty! He's an absolute tyrant. He's a loony murderer! I told him to buzz off when he got me doing squats on a Bosu ball. Did you do kickboxing?"

Red nods, not breaking her concentration and her breathing. "I should have done that instead. But you know, at least now I can eat whatever hell I want, provided I have enough energy to shovel food into my mouth. I have a feeling I'll be sore for the next three days. That Bruce, absolute tyrant."

Red finally finishes her run, wipes the machine down and drinks water. "Why don't you tell him that?" She asks Micheline while heading to the showers.

"Have you lost your marbles? And have him torture me more on our next session? No thanks. I thought you were my friend." Micheline places a hand over her chest, pretending that she's been hurt by Red's suggestion.

"Lunch?" Red asks. " I actually have free time before heading to work."

Micheline shakes her head. "Sorry, love. I got me an insane boss who requires I work twenty-four/seven."

"Wow, you sound just like me."

"Not really. Your business sounds fun and interesting. I spend hours upon hours staring at words and letters, acquisitions, depositions and whatnot. Very boring. But I do have a vacation coming up because the bastard boss is going away! Rain check on the lunch? Next time, we'll actually plan it. And I may even be able to go to your studio."

"It's a date! I'll see you around." Red walks into a stall under a very hot, satisfying shower.

On Tuesday, Red opens the studio herself, expecting Daisy to waltz in on time half an hour later. The early morning is reserved for paperwork, followed by a full booking in the afternoon. Daisy comes in carrying two cups of coffee and a pile of mail. She brings Red the mail and one of the cups.

"Thanks, Daisy. Can you please bring the CV's for the apprenticeship? I should get started on those." Red tells her without looking up.

"Gotcha, boss." Daisy leaves Red in her office. Her staff knows the deal whenever Red is doing the books. There will be no disturbances, unless it is an actual emergency.

Red enjoys a sip of the hot coffee while she goes through the pile Daisy handed her. When she comes to a legal sized envelope with the Wainright Holdings logo--something she saw a lot of while googling Wolfe Wainright--her spine tingles. Could it be he hasn't given up at all? Is it right that she feels ecstatic with that prospect? She tears into the envelope and pulls out a letter.

After reading the letter once, then twice, she starts to see spots from the anger coursing through her. "Son of a bitch!" Red yells. Peter runs in from the halls.

"What happened? Are you okay?" Peter asks Red.

Her body is trembling as she glares at Peter, and then throws the letter his way. "I'm going to kill that spineless shit! He thinks he can do this to me, to my business without me fighting him tooth and nail? That bastard has another thing coming."

Peter reads through the letter and sighs heavily when he finds out what got Red all riled up. "Red, let call my brother. Jason can take a look at this. He can fix this. I'm sure it's all a big misunderstanding."

"Oh, no. This is fucking personal. He thinks he'll get what he wants if he goes after me like this? I don't think so." Red paces, throwing her arms in the air.

"What? What does he want from you? How is this personal? Red?" Peter tries to figure out why Red thinks what she is thinking. He has never seen Red this angry. She stops, pulls out her bag from a drawer, and then walks out the office door.

"I'll be back." Red announces. "Peter, you're in charge."

"Red, there's no need to..." Peter tries to stop her from leaving. Red glares at him, stopping him from his tracks. He may never have seen her that mad but he isn't stupid enough to get in her way.

Red opts to run all the way to Wainright headquarters. Deep down, she is hoping the run will at least calm her down. When she sees the Wainright towers, she even gets more upset.

Why would a large company go after a small business? Red knows the answer and she is ready to give Wolfe a piece of her mind. Surprisingly, she easily gets cleared from security, even taking the time to pin the visitor's pass they give her on her shirt. She's hoping to use it as a weapon.... Only when needed.

Through the ride on the elevator up to the twenty-fourth floor, Red grinds her teeth, forgetting even that she is terrified of heights and enclosed areas. When she reaches Wolfe's floor, an overdressed blond sneers at her.

"I'm here to see Wolfe Wainwright." She announces, slamming her bag over the counter, making the girl jump.

"Do you have an appointment?" The receptionist asks her in a whiny voice.

"No, I..." Red fishes for the letter in her bag. "I need to see him about this." She slams the letter on the girl's desk making the blond jump again.

"You can't see him without an appointment." The girl tells her through gritted teeth.

"Listen, lady, my business isn't with you, it's with that pompous jerk you call boss. If I were you, I'd pick up that phone and tell him I'm waiting for him here before I start something you wouldn't want to see in all your life." Red glares at the girl who cowers in her seat.

She doesn't realize how scary and intimidating she can look with her fiery red hair, dark clothing, numerous piercings and tattoos. She has only surrounded herself by people who know and respect her, people who see her as a sweet, caring person, rather than a mischievous menace to society.

Her nose flares while watching receptionist girl pick up and dial the phone. "I've got a..."

"Mildred Thorne," she supplies.

"... A Mildred Thorne here requesting to see Mr. Wainwright... yes, thank you." The girl replaces the receiver back to its base. "His assistant will be out in a moment."

"Good." Red backs away from the desk, tapping her converse on the gleaming marble floor, arms crossed over her chest.

The longer she waits, the more her courage falters. What if it isn't a misunderstanding? What if it isn't personal? What if he actually has the power to close down her location?

It wouldn't be so hard to find another location, preferably one that isn't owned by Wainwright, but the extra costs to relocate, redesign, rebuild is something she can't stomach. And the possible loss of income while they relocate... it just can't be.

"Miss Thorne?" A tall, skinny as a flagpole blond calls her. "Mr. Wainwright is in a conference at the moment but I have been ordered to show you to his office. Please follow me."

Good, Red tells herself. At least she doesn't have to deal with pesky security dragging her screaming and kicking out of the building. She follows the surprisingly agile, even though she is wearing six-inch death heels, assistant through the halls, garnering some stares and glares from the employees.

When she passes a large glass-walled conference room, she immediately zeroes in on her target. Without any thoughts, she turns to the glass door and pushes it open to a surprised group of suits. Wolfe sits on the other end of the table. Red sees spots again before her, her blood pressure spiking to a dangerous level.

"You fucking bastard! You think you can do this to me without a fight? You have underestimated me!" Red yells at Wolfe while stomping towards him.

She can sense the shock and alarm surrounding her. When she reaches a relaxed-looking Wolfe, she can almost feel hot steam bursting out of her ears. "Wipe that smirk off your face, Wainwright. I will take you to the highest courts. You can't do this to me! You don't know me!" Suddenly hands are on her arms, pulling her back and away from Wolfe. "Let me go!" She yells at the people holding her but not taking her eyes off Wolfe.

Wolfe stands up, raises his hands in a calm manner. "Let her go. We'll take a quick break for now. Miss Thorne, if you'll please follow me to my office. We can talk there privately."

Red doesn't like the sound of that. She didn't come charging only to be felt up by Wolfe again, in his office this time, but the thought of it makes her mouth water, her insides turn into mush. She can't be alone with him, ever.

As he stands waiting for her, she leers at him then they all hear a collective gasp when Red lifts her hand and it comes in contact with Wolfe's stubble-covered face. Realizing what she has done, and hurting her own hand too, Red takes a sharp breath in before running out of the conference room, past all the shocked suits, the blond assistant, and Wolfe's friend from that first night he ended up in her studio.

She doesn't stop running until her lungs feel like exploding. Her legs finally give up in front of a coffee shop.

"Now what?" She asks herself.