The One & Only: The One Lover Series Book 1

by La Serra, Maria

  “I thought I knew everything when it came to women, then Staci came along and taught me a good lesson.”

  “What’s that?”

  “I can’t get every woman to like me.”

  “I always thought you weren’t that charming.” Jack chuckled. He called the bartender over, ordering two more drinks. “Now, you’ve found someone you have to work for. Isn’t that what you wanted? To have someone to want you for you and not your money?”

  “Nope, she’s definitely not impressed with my financial situation.”

  “Well then, there’s only one way to win the woman over.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Vulnerability.” Jack held his glass up. “To the women who drive us nuts,” he said, clicking his glass to mine before taking a swig.

  I could have taken her out to an Italian restaurant, but I wanted to make the first date exciting and fun, so I invited her to a Knicks game. My date arrived ten minutes late. She was a stunner, so all was forgiven. After I made sure she was comfortable and seated, I waited ten minutes in line at the food court.

  When I got back, she told me she didn’t eat hot dogs, and the soda wasn’t diet. By the end of the night, she told me she had a lovely time, but I knew better. This wasn’t her jive and I would have known this if I had taken the time to ask. Never assume, gentlemen.

  The best tip I can give you is to save yourself the trouble, fellas. If she’s not a die-hard fan of any sports, then don’t make the mistake I did. Take the time to check in and make sure you know what she likes.

  To my female readers, men will slay dragons for you, but please let it be after the game.

  “According to Staci and Greg”

  by Greg McAdams

  7

  Staci

  “You did that on purpose?” Jackie asked, laughing when I read the article about our fake date at the Knicks game.

  “Me? No, never.” I batted my eyelashes. “I’ll force Greg McAdams to take me off this assignment.”

  “By making him wish he were dead, huh?” Jackie’s eyes looked over her heart-shaped reading glasses, making me feel like she was going to send me down to the principal’s office.

  “Or at least he’d never met me,” I said, swiveling my chair around to look at her sitting on the edge of my desk.

  “You know, you can kill him with kindness instead.”

  “Yeah, but where’s the fun in that?” I said, and she gave me a look—I’m not pleased with you. “I know, I know. You’re right. I should let bygones be bygones.”

  She tilted her head. “You never told me what happened between you two.”

  “It’s nothing—something. Anyway, it happened a long time ago.” I abruptly got up. “Did you bring a lunch?” I asked, hoping to change the subject. “Maybe we can eat at the park before we go shopping.”

  “Greg is not a bad guy,” she said.

  I knew she was right. Whatever had happened, I just wished Greg would acknowledge it. I wasn’t even looking for an apology, because he seemed to have changed. I thought I’d moved away from it, but every time Greg was around, he seemed to affect me.

  “The Knicks played an amazing game though.” I sighed, closing my laptop. “Too bad I ruined it for him,” I said, feeling the guilt lingering close to my heart. I had a good time, enjoyed getting to know Greg a little more, but I wasn’t going to tell Jackie the truth. It would only fuel her obsession with getting Greg and me together.

  “Are you ready to go shopping?” Jackie asked, grabbing her purse from under her desk.

  “Always ready,” I told her.

  * * *

  “What about this one?” Jackie said as she held up a black sequined dress with a big bow sash around the waist. “Too glamorous, right?”

  I wrinkle my nose. “Um, maybe something a little more toned down with fewer sequins.”

  “It’s a masquerade party, and you work for Starlet. You should be heading to town in sparkles.”

  Jackie was helping me look for a dress to an event Nast Publishing was hosting in two months to raise money for the children’s hospital.

  “How do you feel about being auctioned off?” Jackie asked as we made our way through the rack at Barneys.

  “I’ll admit, when Kate first mentioned it, I thought it was a terrible idea.”

  Since According to Staci and Greg had gone live, Kate and Mr. McAdams Senior encouraged Greg and me to attend these events so we could be photographed together, like a superstar duo, which we weren’t, but that was what the higher-ups were hoping we’d achieve. It was all about branding.

  It was Kate who had come up with this fantastic idea of auctioning us off separately for this event.

  “But, when she told me it was for a good cause, how could I refuse? It’s just dinner … probably with an old, rich man.” I frowned.

  “Who knows? Maybe you’ll hit it off,” she mused. “If he’s old, at least he’ll have money,” she said jokingly.

  I held up a dress with buttons in the front, but Jackie made a funny face.

  “No, I could never marry for money.”

  “Money can’t buy love.” Jackie chirped.

  “No, but it could buy you these shoes.” I held up a pair of ankle-strap Walter de Silva stilettos. “Not bad, only a thousand two hundred, with the discount.” I sighed. “I wish I could take you with me, I have a good home, too. You would have loved it there,” I said to the shoes, placing them back down where I’d found them.

  Jackie laughed. “What were we talking about?”

  “Auction, money and men—I think.” I walked around the display of shoes. “Anyways, I’m too set in my ways to have a man in my life. I can barely live with my sister and a roommate, never mind a man. Men, in general, complicate things.”

  “Um, speaking of complicating things … how do you feel about Greg being auctioned off? I’m sure there will be a lot of rich, feisty women who would like to get their hands on Greg.” She eyed me from the mirror. “Just saying, the man’s smoking hot.”

  I loved her bluntness.

  “Jackie!” I flashed her a wicked smile.

  “What? I’m married, not dead. Besides, I was trying to see something in your face when I said it.”

  “What’s that?” I frowned.

  “Admit it. You find him attractive.”

  “So what? He has beautiful eyes, a sexy smile, a killer body, and a good sense of style. His shoes are legit; he’s charming and funny. But why would I care?” I glanced up, continued to look at me inquisitively. “What?”

  “Right. That’s what a person with no feelings for another coworker—” She adjusted her glasses. “But too stubborn to admit it—would say.”

  “No way,” I deadpanned.

  “You guys have been spending much time together. I figured—”

  “It’s work-related, period.” I took another dress and held it out in front of me. When Jackie shook her head, I placed it back where I’d found it. “To be honest, Nast Publishing is not paying me enough to subject myself to spending this amount of time with Greg McAdams.”

  “I’ve found it! You have to try on this one!” Jackie held up a velour halter dress. “It’s forty percent off.”

  Minutes later, I opened the door to my changing room and walked out.

  Jackie whistled. “Yup, that’s the one.”

  I glanced one more time in the mirror before deciding. “The only thing I could hope for is I fetch a lot more money than Greg or that my date will be younger than his. Other than that, I don’t care what Greg does or with whom he does it with.”

  “It will happen in that dress, that’s for sure,” she said.

  I met her eyes in the mirror. “What’s that look for?”

  “I’m not buying it.”

  “The dress?”

  “That you don’t care about Greg,” Jackie replied. “Or don’t have feelings for him.”

  “No, I’m a cold fish.” I waved her off. “I’ve been dead inside since 20
17.”

  She snorts, then said, “Admit that it could be possible.”

  I looked at my watch. “Oh, damn it. We’ve got to get back to work.”

  Saved by the bell.

  If a man does things for you he doesn’t want to like shop with you—girl, you’d better hold on to that man tight.

  “5 Signs to Know He’s a Keeper”

  by Staci Cortés

  8

  Staci

  The next day, I hopped inside Greg’s car, directing him to drive us to the Middleton Resort and Spa. It was my turn to come up with our next simulated date. After Greg had given me carte blanche on anything I wanted to do, I’d found something he’d never done before.

  “Come on, it will be fun,” I said over my shoulder as we walked into a room with the sounds of rushing water and birds.

  We sat in cushioned chairs, wearing matching white robes. Our feet were soaking in warm water while nail technicians buffed our fingernails. The walls were a beautiful ocean blue, with a few fake plants in the corners.

  “Is this relaxing?” I asked softly. Turning to him, I saw his look of dismay.

  “I can’t believe you talked me into this,” he said flatly.

  “This is every woman’s dream date. Trust me,” I said. “They won’t paint your nails any crazy colors, don’t worry.” I picked out a dark shade of red for myself. “After we get our massages, we can do something you want, but we need to loosen up first.”

  “We won’t be massaging each other, will we?” His eyebrows joggled.

  I rolled my eyes. “That’s not how this works. Anyhow, my fingers are too delicate to be rubbing the knots out of your back,” I said.

  “Hey, I’m the most relaxed person in the world,” he said. “You’re the one who needs to loosen up.”

  I glanced at him. “I’m confident and opinionated. It’s not my fault it intimidates you.”

  He scoffed. “You don’t intimidate me. You’re challenging, and I like that.”

  “Is that a compliment?”

  “It is. If you were easy, I would have had you in bed at first sight of my motorcycle outfit.” He grinned wolfishly.

  The nail technicians exchanged strange looks while I laughed uncontrollably.

  “You mean to tell me you have a specific motorcycle outfit?”

  “I have several, depending on the woman. What’s it to you?”

  “So, which one did you choose for me?”

  “The basic one. Not too flashy, but enticing enough to make you feel like you’re living dangerously.”

  “You think you’re dangerous?” I giggled.

  “I have my moments,” he said. “I was kidding, by the way. I don’t have a specific outfit to get you to drool over me.” He shot me a mischievous grin.

  “Ha! Dream on.” I turned away so he wouldn’t see me blush.

  * * *

  After we got our massages, we returned outside into the fresh air, feeling rejuvenated. I looked at Greg. He was looking more stressed than when he’d come in. Funny, I didn’t think I’d ever seen his hair so disheveled.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Are they supposed to be that rough?” he asked.

  I tried hard not to laugh. “Yeah, of course,” I said, sliding on my sunglasses. Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything to the masseuse.

  “You had something to do with it. What happened back there?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said, and he looked at me like he didn’t buy it.

  “Let’s eat,” Greg said, patting his stomach. “I’m starving.”

  “It’s your day,” I said, swinging my purse around. “Where do you want to go?”

  “If you’re buying, I want to go to the most expensive place in the city.”

  I grimaced, remembering my credit card payment was due. “Does it have to be the most expensive?”

  “If you want to make it up to me, yes,” he said, patting my back.

  “Why don’t we try the Chinese place we passed on the way here?” I asked as Greg held the door open for me. “It just opened. It’s supposed to be extremely good.” I slipped into his car.

  Greg stared at me, stroking the five o’clock shadow on his chin. “I don’t know, Staci. You said, after the massage, I could do what I wanted.”

  “Did I say that?” I shrugged.

  “You’re not a woman of your word, Miss Cortés.”

  “Please?” I jutted out my bottom lip.

  “All right. How can I say no to a pretty face?”

  “You can’t. You’re a man. You all have a common weakness.”

  “As do women,” he shot back.

  “What would that be?” I asked, over the revving engine of his Ferrari 365 Spyder.

  “Charming men with good jobs!” he shouted before we sped off down the road.

  When we got to the restaurant, we sat at a circular table in the corner, sitting on brown chairs. Yellow flowers in purple vases sat on each table and landscape photos hung on the tan walls. It was quiet, and the sizzling smell coming from the kitchen made my mouth fill with saliva. The lighting was dim, almost romantic, but I knew it wasn’t a date. I tried to shake away the feelings stirring inside me, but I couldn’t help myself. I tucked my hair behind my ear, leaning in closer as Greg told me about his travels through Brazil.

  “It’s a beautiful place,” he said. “Sparkling water, luscious trees. I wish I could go back though. I went there on assignment once. Took my breath away.”

  “I’m almost jealous,” I said, sipping my water. “You’ve been to so many places while I’ve confined myself to New York.”

  “It’s never too late,” he said, opening his menu. “We could go together; I could be your tour guide. Separate rooms, of course.”

  “For sure,” I said, hiding my face behind my menu.

  “Let me ask you a question,” he said as I lowered the plastic food list.

  “Only if you answer it, too,” I said, staring at the image of the Kung Pao chicken on the page.

  “If we didn’t know each other from work, would you be interested in dating me now?”

  My pulse picked up. Should I lie?

  “I am attracted to you,” I said, trying not to blush. “That has never been the issue. Looks and personality need to mesh for me to be interested in someone.”

  “So, you still don’t like me?”

  I shrugged, trying hard to hide my smile.

  “I didn’t like you for the first few weeks you worked for the company,” he said. “You were prudish, but now, I know why. Definitely hot though. No doubt about that.”

  “Sorry,” I said. “I didn’t do it on purpose, getting cake on your designer shirt. Is that what you’re talking about? Two years ago, when we first met at Christmas party?” I said, grimacing.

  “That wasn’t the first time we met,” he said.

  As I looked up from my menu, our gazes instantly connected. “What do you mean?”

  There was a heat in his eyes that told me he was seeing me differently, too. “It was your first day at the magazine, maybe the second. You were rambling on the phone to your roommate about how nervous you were. I could tell you were almost in tears. I handed you a tissue, you thanked me and got off the elevator on the wrong floor.”

  I gasped. “Oh my God, I totally forgot about that day. I was a horrible wreck.”

  Greg reached over, placing his hand on mine. “When you’re not a brat, I can see the good in you. I know that’s cheesy, but I’m glad I’ve gotten to see the better side of you lately. I’ve had a lot of fun, except for the spa.” He cracked his neck.

  “Oh, you loved it.” I grinned, then the waiter came over to take our orders.

  When the meal was done, we walked onto the busy sidewalk, the backs of our hands brushing against each other.

  “Thanks for paying,” he said. “I think we’re square now.”

  “I don’t know,” I said, inspecting the shimmer of my freshly painted nails
. “Something still doesn’t feel right,” I said as we stopped in front of Greg’s shiny car.

  “I agree,” he said, opening the door for me. “We need to go on a real date.”

  I laughed, but he didn’t, looking at me with a serious expression.

  I waited for him to do something, and then I laughed nervously. “You meant that?”

  “Of course.” He smiled. “I wouldn’t joke about it. As much as you’re a pain in the ass, I feel the chemistry between us. You’ve dialed back the anger, but we still have this back and forth that I love.”

  “I can keep being angry if you want. Annoying you is fun.”

  “See? Why not give it a try?”

  “Because we work together, and I don’t date people from work,” I said, disappointed.

  “Aren’t you curious? I know there’s a fire in you. I wouldn’t want to stop that. Come out to a club with me—or better yet, I’ll cook dinner for you at my house.”

  At that moment, I wanted to say yes.

  “No, Greg, you’re my boss’s son. My boss,” I said, diverting my eyes outside the passenger window to the crowd of people walking by. “I don’t want everyone at work to talk.”

  “So what? That doesn’t mean a thing to me.”

  I turned to meet his eyes. “It does to me. Please don’t put me in this position where we date and you find out I’m not for you. Things are finally good between us. I don’t want to ruin our friendship.”

  “Somebody must have done a real number on you.” He nodded in defeat.

  We drove off in silence, making our way back to work.

  So, you took her on a couple of dates and got her to open up about herself. You think things are going well until she gives you the It’s Not You, It’s Me speech. How do you recover from that? Accept that you got rejected. Be the adult. You’re not going to win her back by being needy or aggressive. Instead, treat her like a friend. Give her space, and it won’t be long before she realizes she would have to work harder to win you back.