by Dara Girard
He never suspected she’d be the event planner Vivian had recommended. When she stepped into the conference room, froze like a scared animal and then dashed out of the room, Brett was prepared for her to come up with an excuse to leave. It wouldn’t be the first time to have someone come up with an emergency to avoid having to face him.
But then she’d come back. Terrified. His heart swelled with admiration when she’d returned, it was an emotion he rarely felt anymore. He hadn’t lied to her. That was the moment he knew she was someone he wanted to know. Someone he was eager to see again.
“You’re doing it again,” his mother said.
“What?”
“Grinning. It’s not like you. Are you on some sort of medication or something?”
Brett closed the front door and set his keys in the ceramic bowl resting on a small table in the foyer before he bent down and pet Martha and Alvin his two long haired calico cats. “What do you want?”
Martha quickly darted out of the way to avoid having her tail crushed under his mother’s black high heels. His mother marched to his kitchen and took a seat. “You need to do something about your father.”
“Encourage him to seek a divorce?”
She narrowed her eyes. “That’s not funny.”
He pulled down a pouch of treats from the cupboard and handed each cat one in sympathy for having to endure their unwanted guest.
He wasn’t trying to be funny. His mother always had some criticism about his father that she wanted Brett to help her with. How his parents had stayed married as long as they had was still a mystery to him. He put the treat pouch away and washed his hands before he poured two glasses of grape juice then handed her one. “What is it now?”
She took a quick sip then set the glass down. “He’s bored. Restless. He doesn’t know what to do with himself.”
He took a seat in front of her and shrugged. “So?”
“Retirement doesn’t suit him. Give him a job,” she said, instructing him as if he were one of the dental assistants she used to work with in her practice.
Brett shook his head. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”
“It’s an excellent idea.”
“Because you thought of it?”
“No, because it would solve the problem.”
“What if he says ‘no’?”
“He won’t say ‘no’. I’ll make sure of it. Just give him something that will last a minimum of three hours a day. That shouldn’t be hard.”
Brett drummed his fingers against the side of the glass. “I’ll see what I can do. Is that all?”
“Are you going to tell me why you were grinning?”
“No.”
“You can call him tomorrow.”
Brett sighed. “I have to come up with an idea first. I can’t call and say ‘Hey Dad, I have an imaginary job for you.’”
“I know coming up with a job won’t take you long. You’re always full of ideas. I’ll be waiting.”
“Yes. Of course.” He stood and gently took her arm, lifting her to her feet. “I have some work to do.” He escorted her to the front door.
“Have you bought another property?”
He opened the door. “Bye Mom.”
“Started another business?”
“I’ll call you soon.”
“Why were you grinning?”
“Drive safe.”
“Is it a woman?”
He flashed her an indulgent grin before he closed the door. He loved his mother but she was one to sour a good mood. She was right, he could easily find something for his father to do. How long he could keep him busy was something else entirely. He took out his cell phone and noticed a text from Vivian.
Thanks. You won’t regret this.
I know.
He thought of Corinne’s face as the metro doors closed. This time instead of grinning, he smiled.
“Does he have tattoos?”
That hadn’t been the first question Corinne had expected to ask Vivian when she called her later that evening, but it had been swirling in her mind. She told herself it was because she wanted to know more about her client, but she knew that was a lie.
I knew you were the one for me.
She wasn’t sure if it was the wink, the way he looked at her, or his words, but when the train pulled from the station she felt like she could burst into flames. Everything about him was so strange, yet sensuous. The way he moved, the shape of his mouth, the way his gaze swept over her face.
“Hello, to you too,” Vivian said with a laugh.
Corinne sat on her sofa and tucked her feet underneath her. “I’m sorry.”
“Who doesn’t have tattoos nowadays?”
“We don’t.”
“Besides us.”
“And I know Bonnie and her husband Greg don’t so statistically—”
“Never mind,” Vivian said with a groan. “I’m sorry I said anything. Why do you ask?”
“I’m just curious.”
“You’re not the only one. There are rumors he has seven.”
“Seven?”
“I don’t know how the rumor started but people have been guessing. One woman says she’s noticed three. I guess the rest are in places one can’t easily see. Why do you ask?”
“I thought I saw one on his neck.”
“That yin and yang symbol, right?”
“Yes, that’s the one.”
“Uh-huh,” Vivian said. “I asked him about it once.”
“And?”
“Like I said, I asked him about it once. He gave me that look, changed the subject and I never talked about it again.”
Corinne furrowed her brows. “That look?”
“You haven’t seen it yet. No, of course you wouldn’t have, but you will and you won’t forget it. You feel like you’ve just been stung by a scorpion. But as long as you don’t try to pry into his private life you should be fine.”
“Right.”
Vivian hesitated. “Don’t be fooled. He’s easier to work with than some of the nightmare clients you have—”
“Hey!”
“But he’s not as easygoing as he seemed today.”
“I don’t think he’s easygoing at all.”
“Good,” Vivian said relieved. “After your meeting with him went so well, I briefly thought you might have a better chance with him than anyone else, but then I changed my mind. People underestimate him, he’s generous but he’s also guarded. He has a past that he really doesn’t like to talk about. I respect that. He’s the kind of man who sets up boundaries you don’t try to cross. You know the conference room where we met is one of the business properties his company manages. He usually uses different locations so people don’t see where he really works.”
“You mean that’s not the Quest headquarters?”
“It’s the place he takes people to who need to be impressed, but if you get a chance, you’ll eventually see where he really works. Even then, don’t be fooled that he’s letting you get close.”
“You don’t have to worry about me, Vivian. A man who takes pictures while hidden in the shadows is not someone I expect to get close to.”
But that night she did. In her dream. She and Brett were intimately close.
It was the same dream as before with the train turning into a dragon, but this time she didn’t ride the dragon alone. Brett rode behind her. She felt his muscular thighs against hers, his solid arms wrapped around her waist, her back pressed against his chest. But instead of feeling shy she felt powerful as she held the reins of the dragon and they sailed through the sky. She felt his lips against her neck as he slowly branded her with kisses. His breath felt hot against her skin when he said, “You are the one for me.”
“The only one?” she said.
“There could never be anyone else. Take me wherever you want to go.”
She smiled. “You trust me?”
“Always.”
And the dragon soared higher taking them above the
clouds and then it fell away and she thought she was falling until she realized she wasn’t. She was lying naked in a bed of clouds and Brett lay beside her and she felt his body come close and…
The sound of her alarm woke her from her thoughts. She pushed the sheets away sweaty and embarrassed. What had come over her? He’d complimented her; was that enough to dream of him that way? Hadn’t Vivian warned her that he wasn’t a man to even think of as a romantic prospect?
This was business.
Solely business.
She couldn’t expect anything more.
Chapter Seventeen
But she did.
She couldn’t seem to help herself.
She’d started making up reasons to see him, which didn’t help because then her dreams of him became even more vivid, but she couldn’t seem to stop. It had been nearly a month since their first official meeting and he’d become like a drug to her. A drug that both aggravated and thrilled her.
Most times she tried to control her emotions and be professional.
Most times they would text, email, video chat, but then—somehow--she would come up with a reason to see him in person and to her surprise Brett never turned her down. She wondered about that. And she wondered about herself. Why did he intrigue her so much? He wasn’t her type at all. He had her thinking about tattoos and naughty dance moves. Nothing like Harrison or any other man she’d been with. Plus he was a client. She never dated clients, however once the event was over…
But their second meeting had been the beginning of her downfall. The second time she met him they had been alone in the conference room—no assistants, no Vivian—and at first she was worried that their interaction would be stilted. Instead their conversation went smoothly and she found that when she was talking about work, looking at him was vastly easier. Too easy. He looked at her with an interested eagerness that she couldn’t get enough of. She knew what she was doing and he needed her help so it made her feel like an equal. He asked for her ideas and listened.
Really listened. It was so...arousing. She never knew having an intelligent, handsome man listen to her every word with genuine interest could be so stimulating.
But it was still just business. Nothing more could come of it. It would never work on a more personal level. He probably already had someone and she wanted to focus on her business. She had to.
But she liked how he challenged her. How he made her see things in a new way. How he made her see herself. He wasn’t a nightmare. He was one of the easiest men to work with. When she’d attended one of their meetings exhausted, she’d told him about Phyllis’ function, which amazingly she’d saved from being the complete disaster she’d feared. He slowly blinked said “Then let this be the last time,” before he changed the subject.
But she couldn’t. He didn’t understand, just like Vivian.
“She isn’t—”
“When you have a choice why would you choose the worst option?”
“I need the work.”
“You’ll work twice as hard with the wrong clients. You need to value your services more.”
Vivian had said the same thing, she knew he was right. But she was scared, but he didn’t need to know that. She twirled a pen between her fingers, careful to remind herself not to stick it in her hair, and glanced down at her notes. “I forgot to ask. Since you’re offering a lot of information would you consider, perhaps, paring down some of it?”
“No.”
Her head shot up at the finality of his tone. “But you’re giving a lot of information away for free.” She couldn’t believe the extent of financial information he was including in the workshop. She knew she’d have to schedule enough time to make copies of everything and get all the material compiled.
He shrugged. “So? I want my employees to enjoy wealth as much as I do.”
“But—“
“I like the idea of the mansion, the design of the workshop binder for each attendee,” he said, referring to the faux leather, zipped portfolio binders with convenient pockets for cell phones, tablets, pens, business cards, handout materials and a clipboard with a large writing notepad. “They are all suitable.”
“It’s a very generous idea, but people rarely appreciate things given to them for free.”
“Maybe not right away but they’ll thank me.”
Corinne sighed, resigned. “Then I’ll make sure they have a day they never forget.”
“That’s what I expect.”
Never settle for less. The words from the oath came to her. He was the kind of man who lived it. The oath now had a new meaning to her. Was this what they meant? Had she been settling for terrible clients?
The next time she got an opportunity to refuse a project, she knew it would be hard but she looked at the prospect and said, “I’m not the right event planner for you. I’m sorry,” and she briefly felt ill and imagined her calendar of events becoming blank, which would be a true nightmare, but then the feeling left. She felt relieved. Working with Brett had spoiled her. She didn’t want to work with clients who belittled her or changed their minds at the last minute anymore. He was right. She had to value what she did.
But her business hadn’t been the only change over the past several weeks. She’d had a brief talk with Jason to find out how he was doing. “Okay” was the most he would reveal. Her first scheduled weekend visit with him, she’d taken him to the movies, hadn’t revealed much more about how he was doing in school, or what he was learning. But she hoped to slowly get close to him again.
However, right now she was getting ready to see Brett again for the—fourth? Fifth?—time but this time in his main office, the one Vivian had mentioned was the place where he really worked. The place she’d never been before since they’d always met downtown in the conference room.
This time, instead of a high rise building in the heart of the city, she’d driven to a cozy little community that rested on the line of the Maryland/DC divide and parked in front of a four-story glass structure.
He’d invited her there because she’d managed to come up with the flimsy excuse that he needed to see the mockup for the handouts in person to make sure the quality of the paper she had selected was up to his standards.
She was certain he was going to see through her ruse this time, but, as always, he’d quickly agreed to see her. She couldn’t believe how many times they’d met for a one day event. She’d never worked this closely with a client before and in several weeks it would be over. She didn’t want to think about that.
She sat outside his office, located on the top floor, in the waiting area next to a balding, chubby black man who looked nervous. But what had first caught her attention wasn’t his expression, but the sound of his knitting needles as he expertly knit green baby booties. She glanced at the large canvas bag next to his foot and also noticed more yarn, a scarf, another pair of baby booties and what looked like a baby blanket. He was clearly prolific in his hobby. She knew some people used knitting as stress relief. She wondered what had him stressed now. Was he there to sell his services? Ask for a job? He looked so unsettled she felt a little sorry for him.
She nodded to the bootie and said to him, “That’s lovely. Someone’s going to be very lucky to get that.”
He smiled. “Thanks.”
“Are you here to see Mr. Lattimore?”
He nodded. His brown eyes wide and vulnerable behind his silver framed glasses. “I’m here for a job.”
“Me too,” she said, trying to hide her surprise. He looked to be around seventy-something and as awkward as a kid interviewing for their first job.
His brows shot up. “You’re here for a job too?”
“Yes, no. I mean I have a job, but I’m working with him.”
“Y-you know him?”
“A little.”
“Is he as scary as they say?”
“Scary?”
The man lowered his voice. “I heard that he’s got tattoos covering his body. That he was once part of a
gang and that’s how he’s gotten some of the properties he manages. Through intimidation.”
Corinne allowed the image of Brett’s bare body covered in tattoos to flash through her mind before she brushed it away. “From what I’ve read about him that’s complete malarkey.”
“You’ve read about him?” he asked and Corinne smiled, impressed that he could hold a conversation while his needles continued to click away in a rhythmic motion.
“Sure. He’s been featured in a number of top publications.”
“You seem very impressed by him.”
“Oh, I am. I admire him a lot. Not only what he’s achieved but by what he does for others.”
“I don’t even know what he looks like. My wife forced me to come here.”
“I won’t lie. His looks can be...intimidating. But he’s sharp.”
The older man smiled. “For a woman who says she knows a little, you seem to know a lot about him.”
“No, I’m able to read people well. It helps me to work with them better. He’s generous and caring, but hides it so that he doesn’t get taken advantage of.” She tapped the side of her nose before she pointed at him. “But knowing that secret then the advantage can be yours.”
The sound of the knitting needles paused briefly before starting again. “Married?”
“Him or me?”
He shrugged.
Corinne didn’t take offense to his question. One generation’s nosiness was another generation’s innocent curiosity.
“Well, I’m not anymore. I don’t know anything about his personal life. It’s none of my business if he’s married or seeing someone. Although I’m dying to know.” She bit her lip, shocked by her candor. “I mean...because it would give me a fuller picture of him a-as a person.” She released a nervous little laugh. “But he’s great to work with so you have nothing to worry about.”
“That’s good to know Ms.—”
“Oh, I’m sorry.” She held out her hand. “Corinne Baylor. I’m an event planner. I’m helping Mr. Lattimore with an upcoming workshop. His employees are lucky to have him and I'm sure you’ll enjoy working with him or anyone in the company.”
The man nodded. He set his knitting aside, letting his smile broaden. “I know I will now,” he said and suddenly he looked like a savvy gentleman and no longer like a scared elderly man. But before she could react, the office door opened and Brett stepped out and said, “What are you doing here?”
