by Kendall Ryan
“Okay, sure. I’ll leave it to the master party animal.” Sipping my drink, I wave my hand. “Looks like we have a consensus. Motion passed. Now it’s your turn.”
He says, “I’ve been debating whether to pitch our new service style to Acentix Telecom. They’re kind of old-fashioned . . .” One of the few regulars that Dad and Bill managed to hang on to over the years, in fact. “And they’ve always been happy with our work in the past.”
“So you’re wondering, should we even bother trying to update them?” I clarify.
“Right. I figured you’d say, ‘If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.’” He turns his palms up. “But I thought I’d ask anyway.”
I stare into my glass as I weigh our options. Noah knows me well; my first instinct is to avoid spending resources on non-vital work. Pulling together a pitch meeting won’t take a huge amount of effort, but it’s not very likely to yield much of a return either.
For some reason, though, I’m feeling bold. Something inside me whispers why not? And that voice sounds a lot like Noah.
The man himself sips his drink and watches me, keeping quiet, giving me all the time I need to think.
Finally, I reply, “I think we might as well try. At worst, Acentix says ‘no, thanks’—which is always a risk when pitching anyway—and we continue the services we’ve been providing them all along. So why not? The whole reason Dad made us co-CEOs is so we could shepherd this company into the digital era, right? We shouldn’t be shy about trying new things.”
Noah smiles, locking eyes with me. “Experimenting with new things has sure worked out pretty well for us.”
The meaningful glance we share is broken by a ding from Noah’s phone. He checks it, his smile fading away with every second his dark eyes scan back and forth across the screen.
“What is it?” I ask.
Please no shitstorms for at least another half hour. I know it’s a bit selfish of me, since this lunch is for business and not pleasure anyway, but I’m irritated that my one-on-one time with Noah is being interrupted.
“Just an e-mail from our Parrish Footwear project leader,” he grumbles. “Don’t worry, it’s not an emergency. Apparently Estelle has been making noises about how long we’re taking to finish their first round of deliverables.” Noah gives a wry twist of his full lips. “Even though she was fine with our proposed deadline when she signed the contract.”
“We’re not liable for late work if it’s not actually late. So, legally, our ass is covered. But . . .” I chew my lip thoughtfully. “We should probably still try to smooth her feathers. This relationship could make us a lot of money in the long run.” And if working with Noah has taught me anything, it’s that there’s more to maintaining good vibes than just what’s on paper. “You should pay Estelle a visit. Invite her to a business lunch, bump into her at a party, something casual like that. Just smooth things over and reassure her about our progress.”
Noah blinks, surprised. “You’d really be okay with that?”
“She likes you. We might as well put that rapport to good use.” Not too long ago, I would have dismissed this kind of elbow-rubbing as a waste of time. But it’s hard to argue with the effectiveness of Noah’s charismatic approach.
He cocks his head and I realize what he’s really asking.
“Besides, I know nothing would ever happen between you two,” I say, smiling warmly at him. A flash of something daring prompts me to add, “She can look all she wants, but only I get to touch.”
Noah gives a low, pleased noise that’s half chuckle and half murmur. “Damn right. By the way, Snowflake, I like this side of you. Any chance of that touching happening anytime soon?”
I return his smoldering stare. “If you play your cards right.”
He stretches in his chair with a stifled groan, offering me a tantalizing hint of the taut body under his suit, then leans back with arms crossed over his broad chest. His smirk tells me that he knows exactly what he was doing. “Well, that’s the last item on my agenda. You have anything else?”
Sipping my drink, I shake my head. “Not really anything pressing. Camryn asked me the other day about how we should bill content marketing. But I just offered my opinion and let her make the final decision.”
Noah’s eyebrows quirk. “You, delegating?”
“Her team got the in-depth social media training, not me,” I reply with a casual shrug. “And she’s handling everything great so far.”
But I know why he’s surprised. I’ve finally managed to chill out and hand over the reins—at least, where my loyal, responsible BFF is concerned. Other than giving feedback on her weekly reports, I’m making an effort not to butt in.
“That was easy. All our issues discussed and our food hasn’t even arrived yet.” Noah grins at me. “Looks like our business lunch will be just a regular lunch.”
“Was this your plan all along?” I scold him without any real force. “To get me out on a date with you in the middle of the workday?”
His innocent shrug is spoiled by the fact that he hasn’t stopped smiling. “Maybe.”
I pause for a long moment, pretending to think hard. “Well . . . I guess I can forgive you.”
Noah holds up a finger in protest. “Hey, you’re going off script. You’re supposed to be mad at me, and then I have to soften you up—”
“In front of the whole restaurant?”
His grin darkens into absolute sin. “Oh, Snowflake, you’ve got a dirty mind. All I had planned was a kiss. But I like the way you think, and I seem to remember you not being shy about fooling around in restaurants.”
“This is why I like you better when you don’t talk,” I retort with a smile. Especially when it’s because your mouth is otherwise occupied.
“So, what’s the verdict on my brilliant plan?”
“Hmm . . .” I pretend to ponder again. “I’ll take that kiss now. More later.”
“At the office?” he asks immediately.
Actually, that doesn’t sound so—
Wait, no, what am I thinking? He’s dragging me down a rabbit hole. We already crossed that line, and as exhilarating as it was, I don’t want to get caught in some scandal.
I give him a firm shake of my head. “At home. Where we can be as loud and take as long as we want.”
He heaves a purposely melodramatic sigh. “But that’s such a long wait, and you’re the one who brought up sex in the first place.” Before I can tease him for being a perpetual horndog, he adds, “I guess I can be good for a little longer, though. You’re worth waiting for.”
My cheeks turn pink even before he leans across the table and his lips brush against mine. I’m not sure how to respond. Sexy flirting is one thing, but that comment was almost too sweet. Too real.
Our lunch chooses that moment to arrive. We dig into the delicious sushi and let ourselves talk about anything but business. All too soon, we’ll have to get back to the office, but for now, we savor each other’s company. A precious hour alone together, away from the hustle and stress.
• • •
At least once a month, Camryn and I try to set aside some girl time to pamper ourselves and catch up with each other. Today is that most sacred of days. We’ve booked a luxury pedicure at our favorite salon. We sit side by side in adjacent spa chairs, our long-suffering feet freed from high heels and soaking in warm, lavender-scented whirlpool baths. Ahh . . .
“So, how’ve you been lately?” Camryn asks me as the attendant massages exfoliating salt scrub into her soles. “Do anything cool without me?”
“Actually, yeah.” My tone slips into a soft fondness. “Noah and I spent all of last weekend together. On Saturday we had brunch, went shopping at the farmer’s market—he bought me the peonies I always get, without even needing to ask—and then we went to the MOMA’s special Impressionist exhibit. On Sunday, we saw P.B. and Jay—”
“That new indie rom-com?” she asks, interrupting.
“Yeah. And then we ate dinner out and went
dancing.”
Feigning shock, Camryn presses her free hand over her heart. “Hang on. I need a minute to process this. Noah Tate, buying flowers and watching chick flicks? And Olivia Cane—”
“But you have no problem imagining Noah at an art museum?”
“At least the paintings probably had naked ladies in them. But Noah Tate, acting so cute and mushy? And Olivia Cane, taking an entire weekend off? Unplanned? For fun? I think I might have a heart attack.”
I snort despite myself. “Oh, shut up. I’m not that boring.”
“Yes, you are. Tell me something—you sneakily answered work e-mails while he was in the bathroom, didn’t you?”
“For your information, I had my phone turned off the whole time we were out.”
Camryn’s mouth drops open and she twists to face me fully, her shock now genuine. “Holy shit. Who are you and what have you done with my best friend?”
I shrug sheepishly. “Noah convinced me that the office would survive two measly days without me. And I actually . . . believed him.”
Camryn says nothing. She just smirks at me like she knows something I don’t. My stomach stirs with nervous flutters.
“What?” I finally ask. I know full well I’m taking her bait, but I don’t care enough to let her keep up her smug staring.
“Oh, nothing,” she says in a singsong voice, her tone soaked with false innocence. “I guess he must be pretty convincing, is all.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I huff. “It’s just because I’ve been more confident about work lately. I feel like Tate & Cane is really starting to get back on track.”
“Sure, but business isn’t the only thing that’s going well. You practically glow when you talk about Noah. And it seems like his free-and-easy ways have rubbed off on you.”
The double entendre isn’t lost on me but I ignore it, determined to be the more mature woman in the room. “It was just one weekend off. Big deal.”
“Yeah, you guys are definitely in your honeymoon phase,” she concludes, ignoring me right back. She heaves a sigh of satisfaction that definitely didn’t need to be so theatrical. “I had my doubts at first, but it looks like the manwhore can step up and be romantic when he sees something he really wants.”
“What are you talking about? He’s wanted women before.” Noah practically treated chasing pussy like another full-time job, in fact.
Camryn shakes her head. “Not the same way he wants you. He seems really motivated to win you over. Like, for real. Not just for the company’s sake.”
My heart gives a little kick. I instinctively start to argue with her. “I’m sure he just . . .”
But then I stop because I realize that his efforts are sincere. To be honest, I always knew they were. And his romantic gestures didn’t slack off after we were married or after we slept together. So this can’t just be about the contract or the company’s public image, or even just about getting into my pants. From the beginning, Noah made no secret of being attracted to me, but lately the atmosphere between us seems like more than just sexual tension.
The attendant interrupts my stunned musings. “Would you ladies like me to apply any nail polish today?”
Wow, I must have been really spacing out. I didn’t even think of picking out a color.
“Pale pink,” I blurt, feeling playful. Very different from my usual palette of dark matte red, which feels professional and mature for the male-dominated office. Pastel pink, in a way, symbolizes my newly awakened soft side. I smile to myself, wondering what Noah will think.
“Can I see what new shades you have?” Camryn asks.
“I’ll bring you our color book,” the attendant says as she bustles out of the room.
I sink back into my thoughts. Can Noah actually have serious feelings for me? And if he does, what will I do with this information? How do I feel about Noah? I’m having fun now, but is he really long-term husband material?
As much as I’ve denied it just now, Camryn is right—Noah is changing my routine. Hell, he’s changing me. The old Olivia never would have let her hair down like I did last weekend. And we’re so much more in sync at the office. Not too long ago, we struggled to mesh our management styles, but now we effortlessly work together to solve problems with the easy grace of a rehearsed dance. We’ve grown across the gap to meet each other halfway.
Almost without my noticing, Noah has become one of my guiding stars. Someone I look forward to seeing each and every day. His smile alone has the power to speed up or slow down my heart. I’ve been so much calmer and happier lately . . . although that might just be a side effect of having multiple screaming orgasms every night.
As if Camryn can read my mind, she asks in an undertone, “So, have you two done the deed yet?”
Caught off guard, I look away, stammering, “Um . . .”
“Oh my God, you did,” she says with a squeal. “I’m so proud.”
Even though I’m staring intently at the wall, I can still hear the gleeful grin in her voice. My face feels hot.
“You’re being weird,” I protest.
“Are you kidding? You’ve finally broken your dry spell. Now I’m not the only one holding up the ‘sexy gossip’ end of our friendship. I want to hear everything. Hurry up and spill before the attendant comes back.” When I stay tongue-tied, she eggs me on. “Is his dick as big as the rumors say?”
“You’re unbelievable,” I say, groaning in defeat. “Yes, okay? He’s huge. Are you happy now?”
“Not until you tell me what he’s like in bed.”
I may never remove my eyeballs from this wall ever again. “Um . . . let’s just say he knows what he’s doing.”
She gives me a look. “No, let’s not just say that. Come on, Liv, I need more details!”
“Well, he’s . . . assertive. Passionate, but sweet. Very attentive. Sometimes he likes to tease. He takes things slow—” I think my face might burst into flame. “Until he suddenly doesn’t.”
Camryn gives a little whoop. “Get it, girl!”
Mortified, I frantically wave my hands back and forth. “Jesus, Camryn, keep it down. Half the salon can probably hear us.”
But I’m laughing with her even as I try to shush her. It seems that nothing can put a dent in my sunny mood. My heart is filled to the brim with hope—both about work and about my relationship with Noah.
Camryn opens her mouth, probably to keep grilling me. But I’m saved from further interrogation when the attendant returns with a small binder.
“Sorry about the wait, honey, someone else was using it,” she chirps.
As Camryn mulls over the color swatches, I pull my phone out of my purse to text Noah.
Olivia: Almost done at the spa. Going to pick up more condoms on the way home. Want me to get anything else?
On playful impulse, I add:
Olivia: Like maybe some whipped cream or chocolate sauce?
Then I hit Send, grinning foolishly to myself. I’m bubbling over with a joyful, sexy energy I’ve never felt before. I feel like everything in my life is finally coming together.
A few minutes later, my phone dings with a new message.
Noah: Hell yes. You know how much I love dessert, Snowflake.
I stifle a giggle. God, I’m acting like a silly schoolgirl and I don’t even care. If these past few weeks with Noah are anything to go by, I have a lot more fun and games to look forward to.
Chapter Thirteen
Noah
All day I’ve been delving into Tate & Cane’s financial situation, poring over dense, dry records. But I’m home now, and at the cheery sight of Olivia fresh from the spa, smiling at me as she stands in front of my chair, all my stress dissolves.
Well, almost all of it. Fred’s e-mail about the possibility of us having to either take out a loan to continue paying employee salaries or consider a mass layoff is still on my mind. Not to mention my promise to Olivia that we’d find a way to wow our clients with an intimate party. And Fred’s news abo
ut his cancer resisting treatment. And the heir clause, looming over everything . . .
Fuck me running. I tuck the stacks of dreary bank statements into my leather portfolio and close it.
“What do you think?” Olivia grins at me, wiggling her painted toes.
“Pink. I like it.” Then again, I’d probably like her in just about anything. I already know I love her in nothing at all.
She smiles at me. “I was feeling flirty.”
“Did you have fun?”
Blushing a little, she looks down at the plush carpeting. “Yes, except . . .”
“What is it?”
I rise and pull her chin up so she’ll meet my eyes. I hope she hasn’t seen our current financial picture yet. She’s got enough stress to juggle right now. I’ve tried to shield her from most of it, asking Fred and Peter to come directly to me with their reports and concerns.
“Camryn grilled me on us,” Olivia says softly.
Oh. I’m relieved to hear it’s nothing related to work. But it’s crazy to think there’s actually an us. I didn’t know if we’d ever get to this point.
I shrug. “That’s not so bad, right? Things are good between us. Hopefully that’s what you told her.”
She looks up, her cheeks still hot. “I did. But she wanted to know specifics. Like how you were in bed.”
A slow smile uncurls on my lips. “And what did you tell her?”
She chews on her lip, looking unsure.
“The truth, Olivia,” I say firmly. It’s unlikely that she said anything to hurt my reputation—she’s polite like that, and besides, I know I’m good. I just want her to tell me how I make her feel. I want to hear those words straight from her soft, full lips.
“That you have a big . . . b-boy parts,” she stutters, “and you’re . . . assertive, yet tender, and—”
I can’t wait another second to have her mouth on mine. I take her mouth hungrily, and her lips part, accepting me. Our tongues duel as I pull her close, chest to chest.
