Hit & Miss Groom

by Misty Evans

  “Nah, it’s cool.” He rolled back onto his heels and studied her. “You okay? You look like you saw a ghost.”

  “Not a ghost. Just a new side of you.”

  He looked confused for a second, then drew a knowing breath. “You saw the suit.”

  “That’s pretty badass. Totally having to readjust my image of you, Boy Scout.”

  “Hey, as long as it works in my favor, I’m cool with it.”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “Woman, you are driving me insane.”

  The pull she felt toward him was undeniable. “I’m getting the impression you like that.”

  Alex took her hand and tugged her into his warm solid body. “I can show you how much.” He leaned his head down and Van held her breath as the electricity and anticipation chased through her veins.

  When his lips were a scant breath from hers, Jen called from downstairs. “Hey, Alex, where did you put the bottle openers? The natives are getting restless.”

  His curse was low and Van had to give him points for inventiveness. “I’ll be right there.” Turning his attention back to Van he said, “You and I, we’re not done.”

  Van licked her lips. “Maybe, maybe not. You get those bottle openers. It’s time for me to go.”

  He shook his head. “I’m not giving up, you know.”

  “What would be the fun if you did?”

  Chapter Seven

  Van shoved another Kit Kat in her mouth and made a mental note to brush her teeth before her presentation in, oh… 38 minutes.

  It was fine, totally fine. All she was doing was presenting project status…on a multimillion dollar client project…in front of C-level executives.

  She crammed another Kit Kat into her mouth as she gripped her phone to her ear.

  “I’m so sorry, Van.” Becca spoke a mile a minute “It was totally unavoidable and last minute. You know, I wouldn’t just bail on you like that.”

  “Yeah,” Van spoke around a mouthful of chocolate wafer. “I know. It’s just that it’s Alex, and I knew you weren’t going to be there, and I got stuck at that party with all these people, and it sucked.”

  “Did my husband at least try to keep you entertained?”

  The hint of bite in Becca’s voice had Van rushing to defend him. “Yes. Of course, Liam was great. He made sure I always had someone to talk to.” More like kept her prisoner for his idiot friend. “I survived, but it wasn’t the same without you.”

  “I’m glad to hear it. Sometimes it’s easy to forget that you’re a closet introvert. You project confidence all the time.”

  “Yeah well, the Major taught me weakness is not an option. I’ve got to fake it till I make it.”

  She was lucky Becca understood her. She was one of the few good friends Van had made since coming to San Diego. Sure she had lots of acquaintances, but few that she would call for a heart to heart. Friday night get together, sure. Surface friends, you bet, but with them she’d always had to have the mask on. Pretend like everything was fine. Like she was hip and cool and unaffected while under her clothes she was sweating.

  “I’m sure you did fine. In other news, Alex called me. He wants to know what kind of stuff you’re into.”

  “What does that mean?” A hot flush swept over her body and her heart thundered. He already knew most of what she liked in bed.

  “Easy there. I think he wants to ask you out.”

  Van groaned.

  “Okay, spill, what is it with you two? Before the wedding, sure, there was some tension, but this kind of animosity is weird. Did he say something to you?” Becca’s voice rose. “Did he do something? Because I will sever his balls from his person—”

  “No, he didn’t do anything to me.”

  Unless she counted that thing he did with his tongue.

  Or the commanding way he handled her in bed.

  Or the way, after each orgasm, he’d kiss her neck and whisper how beautiful she was or how much he wanted to keep touching her. “No need to go into battle mode.”

  Becca calmed down. Her bestie in rage mode was scary. Van was quick fire temper. Becca, while a little high-strung, was generally happy and positive. So when she went nuclear, it got ugly pretty fast, and there was no stopping her once she got on a roll.

  “Then tell me what the hell is going on. I know it’s been a bit crazy since the honeymoon, but it’s time to spill. You’re no better at hiding things from me than I am from you.”

  Van needed to buy herself time. “Okay, look, I still have to prep for my meeting. How about I call you when I get home and we can hash it all out okay?”

  “So there is something to hash out, I knew it.”

  Van couldn’t help but laugh. “Settle down, Becs. Have a Kit Kat.”

  “I’m all out,” she muttered sheepishly.

  “You have your own assistant now. Ask her to get some.”

  “I forgot I could do that.”

  “I swear, I need to teach you the art of being a ballbuster. Once I get an assistant, I’m not doing anything for myself ever again.”

  Becca laughed, “You’re full of shit, and you know it. You’ll be totally hovering to make sure she does things right and get frustrated and do it yourself. And then you’ll bring her coffee every day to make up for yelling at her.”

  That was about right. She’d had an assistant once, it hadn’t worked out. “Whatever. I have to go finish prep. I love you, call you when I get home.”

  “Later tater.”

  Van wasn’t sure what good thing she’d done right in a past life, but she was certainly reaping the rewards now.

  Quickly, she reviewed her notecards on the presentation. It was old school but the cards helped prompt her as she went through all the slides. When she was done with that, she checked her reflection in the mirror hanging in her office to make sure she didn’t have chocolate on her mouth. As she dabbed away at the slight shine on her forehead and nose, she recited her rules.

  Shoulders back, no slouching.

  Appear tall and confident.

  Don’t touch your face.

  Don’t play with your hair.

  Keep your feet square.

  Don’t open your mouth unless you can speak in clear, concise, sentences.

  Grow a pair.

  Those were the rules her father always barked at her whenever she had to do anything. He’d been disappointed enough she hadn’t been a son, he wanted to make sure she was at least strong.

  And she was thanks to him. When it came to work, people respected her. She was rewarded for her hard work.

  Only problem was that all this stuff still made her so nervous. Even as she strode to the conference room, beads of sweat rolled down her back. Lucky for her she’d dressed in black. She’d learned that little trick for presentation day. It did nothing for her skin tone, but at least no one would see the sweat patches

  As she rounded the corner to her meeting, several people hurried for the conference room doors. She couldn’t help but smile to herself.

  They were running for her. As much as she hated to admit it, her father’s rules worked.

  And she had to keep following them if she wanted to get ahead.

  Once settled at the head of the table, she checked the clock and pasted on her professional smile. “Thank you so much for joining me this morning. I see a new face or two, so let me begin the meeting by reminding you that I start my meetings on time and I end them on time. I won’t be repeating myself, so if you miss anything, please hold your questions to the end of the presentation and we can address them then. Any questions?”

  Everyone shook their heads. The vice president and CEO nodded their approval.

  Game on. “Fantastic, then let’s begin.”

  * * *

  After her meeting, Van escaped to the relative privacy of her office.

  Accelerated heartbeat, check. Sweaty blouse, check. Shaking hands, check.

  One-on-one she was fine, but speaking in front of large group
s was part of the job. If she wanted to be Director of Special Projects in charge of all the other program managers at DIVE, she needed to get used to this.

  But she’d been here for years and somehow she’d never gotten used to the public speaking.

  It didn’t matter. She’d lived to fight another day.

  Dragging her change of blouse off the hanger behind the door, she yanked off the sweaty one and put on the clean one.

  There, she felt better already. What the hell was she going to do when she had more and more impromptu meetings where she had to talk to large groups?

  Whatever. She’d deal with that bridge when she came to it. She’d hoped for another few minutes to herself to wind down before she started hunting down the web designers on the last project, but there was a knock at the door.

  “Come in.”

  Fran Beaumont popped her head in, smile wide and eyes dancing. Van could only guess that her friend had good news to share. Somehow Fran was one of those people that others gravitated toward. Trying to get anywhere on time with Fran was an impossibility, because everyone wanted to talk to her. She had a way of making people feel like they were her best friend. Kind of like Alex.

  Unlike Alex, it was genuine and Fran never did it for show.

  “Hey, can I bug you for a minute?”

  “Sure, what’s up?”

  “First, great job on the presentation. I walked away confident that you have everything under control with your area and all projects will get delivered on time. Unlike my stupid area.”

  Fran worked in the sports email marketing arm and no matter what, their campaigns were always late. Whenever it came time to solidify the ads for the final campaigns, Sales was always dragging their feet and they had to scramble for ads to put in. Van had a few ideas of how to fix that, starting by firing the sales guys, but she kept that to herself.

  “Thanks. I was prepared, so it wasn’t bad.” Never mind the part about her wanting to hide under the desk.

  Fran shook her head. “I don’t know how you do it. You had Alan Campbell, the freaking VP, running to your meeting. You’re my hero. Can I be you when I grow up?”

  Van smirked. It wasn’t like she’d been trying to reprimand the VP in front of everyone but one day he’d strolled into her meeting thirty minutes late and wanted to interrupt with questions. She’d very calmly reminded everyone of the meeting rules, and that out of respect for the other team members, she’d review everything with him at the end. Then continued as if she hadn’t heard him.

  Lord, she’d never been so terrified in her life, but it had worked. Of course she’d gotten spanked afterward, but it was well worth it. Everyone came on time to her stuff now. Even the big shots. “Yeah well, it’s rude to be late.”

  “Like I said, my hero.” Fran eyed the bag of Kit Kats, but wisely kept her mouth shut. Van didn’t tolerate food Nazi’s. And at a place like DIVE, they were everywhere and couldn’t wait to tell everyone that would listen about their gluten-free, sugar-free, fun-free diet. She and Becca had named the group the Tribots.

  One of the evil Tribot bitches had once complained about Van’s Kit Kat habit. Van hadn’t even needed to say anything, just shot her Resting Bitch Face number five. Tribot Bitch never said a word to Van again.

  Fran continued nervously. “So uh, I have a meeting with an investor for Wellness Me.”

  “That’s great. I knew you could do it, all you needed was a push in the right direction.”

  “No, I couldn’t have pitched my idea if you hadn’t given me all those great pointers.”

  Fran had sought her out and asked her for tips on how to do a presentation for her wellness company she had on the side. She provided daily coaching and affordable one-on-one counseling as well as personal chef services. Many of their coworkers were on a Fran Plan as they liked to call it. One of the most successful parts of her business was the food ordering. You put in an order for lunches for the week, Fran prepped them over the weekend, and you picked them up. Her friend now had to outsource some of the items because it was so popular.

  “You had everything you needed. I simply nudged you in the right direction.”

  “Yeah, but you have a way of putting things in terms I understand and pushing me to follow up on goals and tasks. I’m a serious procrastinator. It got me thinking. You should be life coaching, business coaching. Motivating people like you did with me and helping them figure out how to mix their dreams with real-life goals. Without you, I wouldn’t have Mindful Simplicity. I’d still be running around here being a food Nazi. Without you, I never would have gotten organized.”

  Aw, hell. Van’s eyes pricked. Motivating people was her thing. Only, she liked getting to know people as individuals and finding out what made them tick. Inspiring them and encouraging them, not being Major Jr. and demanding a group create a project and meet its deadlines.

  Didn’t matter. Major Jr. was who she was. She blinked away the wetness in her eyes. The last thing she needed was a tear-fest. “Yes, organization, that’s all it was.”

  “Honestly, your talents are wasted here chasing people. Give life coaching a thought.”

  Van bit the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing. She’d love to be a life coach, but the Major wouldn’t consider that a real job. There was no way to make a career out of it. Not a proper one, anyway, by the Major’s standards.

  “I will,” she lied smoothly. “Do you need help getting ready for your investor meeting?”

  Fran ducked her head sheepishly. “How’d you know?”

  “Shoot me an email with what they want to see and we’ll get you prepped. You have to remember that they want you, not the other way around. They have to wow you. Keep your goals in mind. If they offer you something that is not in line with your goals, say no. If what they offer is directly related to you getting what you want, then by all means sign on the dotted line—as long as you are comfortable with the deal.”

  Fran nodded as she stood. “Seriously, what would I do without you? I can’t believe you’re helping me so much free of charge. Most business coaches would charge me thousands of dollars.”

  Bullshit. “I’m not selling you a bill of goods. I’m happy to help.” And she meant it. She liked helping people who deserved it. Maybe she wasn’t all flashy about it like Alex, but it made her feel good.

  Her phone rang and his name flashed on the screen. Speak of the devil and he will appear swishing his fucking tail.

  Fran ducked out with a wave and Van considered not answering. But a piece of her about a foot south, pulled tight and begged her to answer.

  Stupid traitorous body didn’t know any damn better. She picked up the phone. “Don’t you have someone else to harass?”

  He laughed, and of course her stupid hormones went on overdrive. “I love the sound of your voice even if you are berating me. What’s got you so grouchy?”

  “On the contrary, I’m in a great mood. What do you want?”

  “I told you I wasn’t giving up.”

  Despite herself, she laughed. No one had ever pursued her this relentlessly. Even though she knew it was all about his ego, it still felt nice. He hated the fact that he wasn’t the one to walk away from that night. It had nothing to do with her. “And I told you, you’re wasting your time. Never going to happen.”

  “Again.”

  “What?” she asked.

  “Don’t you mean never going to happen again? My money is saying that it will. Because let’s face it, it happened once already and judging by the way you look at me sometimes, you want it again. So why don’t you put both of us out of our misery?”

  “You’re ridiculous. I don’t want you.” She sighed. That didn’t even sound true to her.

  “Fine, if you want to pretend you don’t want a repeat of Jersey, then how about a friendly drink?”

  “No.”

  “Come on. Just see me. We’ll be friends, and if you ever want to change the arrangement to add some benefits, I’m down. I can be your fr
iend, Van, and I’m a good friend to have.”

  The way he said that just sounded dirty. “Don’t you have some old woman to save or a kitten to get out of a tree or something?”

  “Yes, but I’m not getting off this phone until you agree to see me. Tonight?”

  Butterflies fluttered low in her belly and her whole body flushed. Why was it him who did this to her? Why not someone else…anyone else. “Seriously, you’re impossible. I have a presentation to prepare for.”

  “I can help. You have to eat at some point. I’ll bring Thai to your place later.”

  Her stomach grumbled. She loved Thai food. The spicier the better. “Okay fine, but seriously, only for an hour. I have to work.”

  “Are you ever not working?”

  When he said it like that, she sounded boring. “I’m hanging up now.”

  His laugh was rich and mellow and sent a shiver down her spine. “Okay, run away. If you ever want me to do that thing you liked so much, you know the one with my tongue? Where you dug your hands into my hair and held me tight against your pu—”

  “Goodbye, Alex!”

  She’d have to be careful with him. He had a way of growing on her. Like a fungus. She wasn’t interested in being one of his conquests. As long as she kept him at arm’s length, everything was going to be fine. Besides, how hard could that be?

  Chapter Eight

  Alex grabbed the bags of food and climbed out his car. From the parking lot, he could see a light on in Van’s place. Home already? He checked his watch. It was barely six o’clock. Van never got home from work until after dark.

  His pulse kicked up a notch. Maybe she was anticipating this non-date dinner thing as much as he was.

  He needed to unwind. It had been a brutal day at 3 Wishes. Back-to-back donor meetings, requiring him to do his dog-and-pony show—a show that took a lot out of him these days for reasons he didn’t understand. He loved his job, but kept feeling like there had to be more to his life.

  Ridiculous, of course. He granted wishes to sick and disabled kids. He had the best job in the world.