by Karen Booth
There was the reminder of just how intertwined Clay and Astrid were—she and his sister had been married to the same man. Astrid owned a chunk of the company he worked for. There were a million reasons to not feel the way he did about her, but there seemed to be just as many thinly veiled excuses to pick her up and take her back into the bedroom right now. His dream might be waiting downstairs in the hotel ballroom, but it also felt like it was standing right in front of him.
Get your head on straight.
“It’s beautiful.” He poured himself another drink and downed it just as fast. The burn was vicious, and he knew that he deserved it for the things that were going through his head right now. “Can I make you a drink? Or we could open the champagne if you really want to.”
“I’ll take one of whatever you’re having.” She floated closer to him, bringing along his first real breath of her perfume. It was warm and sweet, just like her. “You were right. We should save the champagne for after the ceremony. To celebrate your achievement.”
“Stop saying that.”
She took one more step, closing the gap between them. She smoothed the lapel of his jacket, while all he could do was stare down at her hand on his chest and fight the wish that he wasn’t wearing this suit and her dress was puddled on the floor. “I believe in the power of positive thinking. You’re brilliant and talented. The rest will work itself out.”
It was a mystery how she could have so much confidence in him when she’d only known him for a few months. He’d had to live with himself for thirty-five years and he wasn’t convinced of anything she was saying. “But the decision has already been made. Somewhere downstairs in the hotel ballroom is an envelope with a name on it that might not be mine.”
She peered up at him, her impossibly warm eyes flickering with optimism. “Positive thinking, Clay. Only good thoughts.” She patted his chest, then looked away. “Now, where’s my drink?”
“Oh. Right.” Clay felt as though half of his brain had suddenly decided to take the night off. He grabbed a second glass and poured a splash of bourbon for her.
Meanwhile, Astrid traipsed over to the end table next to one of the sofas and picked up the house phone. “Yes. Hello. We have a bottle of champagne in our room that needs fresh ice.” She grinned at him, her whole face lighting up with a hint of mischief. “We’re going to be celebrating later this evening and it would be a shame if it had gone warm.”
He was so drawn to her right now, it was comical. If only she knew she could ask him for anything and he would give it to her without reservation. “Thank you for doing that,” he said as she ended the call. “I’m sorry I didn’t want to open the bottle earlier.”
“I understand you’re feeling superstitious. It’s okay.”
Once again, Astrid saw right through him. “It sounds silly, though, doesn’t it? Plus, you’re the one who’s talking about being positive. I’m not employing logic or optimism.”
“You really are worked up about tonight, aren’t you? All that talk about nerves was real.”
“I’m sure it makes me seem like a fool, but yes. I don’t enjoy crowds. I don’t enjoy phony social situations, and I do not relish the thought of sitting in that room, hearing my name announced among the nominees, and not ultimately hearing that I won. I know it won’t be the end of the world, but I’m still dreading that moment.”
She approached him slowly, making him feel like he was a buck alone in a meadow, poised to run off into the woods at any time. Stopping mere inches from him, she reached up and reassuringly rubbed his arm, and his defenses wavered. It would be so simple to kiss her and take her in his arms.
“I think you need to give up control tonight,” she said in a calm and measured tone.
“Excuse me?”
“You like to be in charge. You like to manage every little thing. But it’s not going to work in this situation. You have no control.”
“So what do I do? Radically change my personality and suddenly become laid back and relaxed?”
She shook her head. “No. You put me in the driver’s seat. I am in charge. You do what I say. No exceptions.”
He didn’t mean to scoff at her suggestion, but the breathy grunt escaped his lips before he could even think about it. “That won’t work.”
“But it will. I just need you to trust me.”
“I don’t do that, either.”
She fluttered her long, dark lashes at him—it felt deeply manipulative and yet it might have been the sexiest thing he’d seen in his lifetime. “Let me put it this way. If you don’t give me control, I’m leaving. Do you want me to go?”
He tried not to look at the enticing contours of her bare collarbone or think about what it might be like to kiss her there, but he failed. The thought of Astrid abandoning him was unthinkable, even for the man who’d spent so much time pushing her away. “No. I don’t want you to go.”
* * *
Astrid wasn’t about to gloat over her win in getting Clay to acquiesce to her plan. At least not outwardly. On the inside, she was doing a victory dance. Progress. Finally. If nothing else good happened in the next twenty-four hours, she would at least know that she’d convinced him of something.
She held his hand on the elevator as they rode down to the lobby. He shot her a questioning look when she first did it, and she returned the expression, but hers came with two arched eyebrows and the subliminal reminder that she was in charge and he’d better not question her methods. Luckily, the presence of several other guests kept him quiet. She knew that human contact would help him stay grounded. It would help him relax. Even when he radiated so much tension she was worried he might snap in two.
Downstairs, they wound their way through the elegant lobby and back to the ballroom where the dinner and awards ceremony were being held. They waited in line to check in, and Astrid noticed that there was a photographer with professional lighting and a backdrop waiting for them after that step. She already anticipated that Clay wouldn’t want his picture taken, and she armed herself with the appropriate argument.
“Yes. Hi. Astrid Sterling and Clay Morgan,” he said when they reached the table. “We’re both with Sterling Enterprises in San Diego.”
Astrid hadn’t realized how much pride she would take in her job and the fact that she worked with Clay until she heard him say that. It made her heart swell.
“Yes, Mr. Morgan. We have you at table two right in front of the stage. Good luck this evening.”
“Just what I wanted,” Clay muttered sarcastically to Astrid. “To be on full display, right in the very front of the room.”
“Optimism. Think of it as a shorter walk if you win.” She nodded at the photographer. “Ready to get your picture taken, guy who doesn’t want to be in the spotlight?”
“Do we have to?”
“Yes. We do. You’ll be fine. I’ve done this a million times.”
“Am I supposed to stand a certain way?”
“One hand in your pants pocket, the other at your side. Don’t square your shoulders to the camera.” She tugged on his hand until they were standing before the backdrop. Astrid instinctively angled her body and placed her hand on her hip.
Clay took her directions perfectly. So much so that the photographer took note. “You two look like you’ve done this before.”
Clay actually smiled. “It’s all her. She’s the pro.”
“Well, you look amazing together. Enjoy your night.”
Astrid could hardly contain her grin as they strolled into the room. She was certain that they did look good together. Very, very good. “Shall we get a drink before they have us sit for dinner?”
“Yes. Let’s see if there’s anyone you need to meet.”
Astrid relinquished a bit of control as she allowed Clay to lead the way through the throng of people in the ballroom. A steady din of conversation fought with the
jazz piped through the sound system, and Astrid couldn’t help but notice that there weren’t nearly enough women in the room. She worked in what was still a male-dominated industry, which only made her want to recommit herself to her role at Sterling. She, Tara, and Miranda were in a position of power and they couldn’t squander the opportunity.
“What would you like to drink?” Clay asked.
Of course he didn’t know her cocktail of choice—this was one of very few times they’d seen each other in a social setting. “White wine.”
“Nothing stronger?”
“I need to keep my wits about me. I am in charge tonight.” Again, he smiled, fueling Astrid’s desire for him. Focus on the awards. Focus on support.
After Clay got their drinks from the bar, he spotted a few people he wanted her to meet, mostly architects from the firm in Santa Barbara where he’d once worked. “I want you all to meet Astrid Sterling. Astrid and I work together. She’s the project manager for our bid on the Seaport Promenade project in San Diego.”
“I hear good things,” one of the men said. “The buzz is that Sterling is at the top of the heap for that one.”
“We still have two more phases of the bid process to go through until it’s final,” Astrid said. “But thank you. I appreciate your kind words.”
“Astrid is amazing,” Clay said. “She’s so good at keeping us on schedule that we’re actually a bit ahead of the game.”
Astrid could’ve been knocked over by a puff of air. Clay spent so much time saying they didn’t work well together. It never occurred to her that he actually thought she did a good job. Of course, she wasn’t about to let on while they were standing with a group of their peers, but she did tuck away the compliment in her memory. She’d keep it close for quite some time. “Clay’s the real rock star of our team,” Astrid said. “Without him, we wouldn’t stand a chance.”
“Exactly why he was nominated tonight,” the man said, just as a chime was sounded, announcing that everyone should take their seats for dinner. “Wishing you the best of luck.”
Astrid and Clay found their seats at table two, where it turned out they were seated with the other three finalists and their guests. After cursory introductions, Clay sat next to Astrid, his face drawn with stress. “This is all too real.”
“Real is good,” she whispered into his ear, letting her mouth linger near his neck so she could breathe in the warm scent of his cologne.
He reached under the table and took her hand, making her heart nearly stop beating. His mouth was right by her cheek, his breath soft against her skin. “Whatever happens tonight, I’m glad you’re here.”
“I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.”
Dinner was soon served—a succulent red snapper with Thai flavors of coconut milk, lemongrass, and ginger, along with jasmine rice and sautéed spinach. Clay picked through his plate, not seeming interested in food.
“Don’t you like it?” Astrid asked.
“It’s delicious. I just don’t have an appetite.”
Astrid hated seeing him like this. She wished she could push fast-forward on the ceremony so he could get on with his life. “Does that mean I can have your dessert?”
Clay slung his arm over the back of Astrid’s chair, which made her sit a little straighter in her seat. It made her dig deep for breaths. “If there’s chocolate, probably not.”
“Fair enough.”
The dessert did indeed have chocolate—a flourless cake with a salted caramel drizzle. Everyone was enjoying it, even Clay, when a woman took the stage and began the presentation. Again, Clay set aside his fork, seeming disinterested. It really must be bad if he isn’t finishing that cake. She was beginning to see that he had a weakness for sweets.
He shifted in his seat as the first slate of awards were given, all in the area of residential architecture, which was not Clay’s area of expertise. The plates were cleared from the tables, glasses of champagne were delivered to all, and Clay continued to struggle to sit still. Astrid would have done anything to make his trepidation go away. As the awards shifted to commercial architecture, she leaned closer and raised her head to speak into his ear. “You’re almost there. Just breathe.”
He nodded, looking down at the table and a cocktail napkin that he was folding and unfolding with one hand, like he was creating the origami equivalent of worry beads. Astrid decided she would occupy his other hand, so she reached under the table and found it resting on his firm and muscular thigh. She pushed past her own desire to explore his long limbs and instead squeezed his hand. Every time he cleared his throat or shifted in his seat, she held it tight again.
“And finally, we come to the final award of the night. The Architect of the Year. As you all know, this award is open to both commercial and residential architects, so it really does represent the best of the best in our state. The nominees have demonstrated excellence with their vision, creativity, professionalism, and devotion to their craft.”
The room was remarkably quiet and Astrid found herself now being as nervous as Clay was. Possibly more so. What was going to happen if he didn’t win? Why had she been so stupid as to assure him that he would? She could easily imagine what their working relationship was going to become if he did end up losing. She would be an everyday reminder of the milestone he hadn’t reached. It had her rethinking every optimistic thing she’d said over the last few hours. So much for her ridiculous attraction to him. She might have ruined any chance she ever had.
The show host announced the nominees, but the names came out muffled as Astrid’s mind swirled with worry.
And then, just like that, it cleared.
“The winner is Clay Morgan, Sterling Enterprises.”
Astrid and Clay looked at each other and froze. Then they both burst out laughing. Before she could think how to act, she found herself bolting up out of her seat and wrapping him up in the most enthusiastic hug she’d ever given anyone.
“Thank you,” he said, loud and clear and right to her, as the audience rose to their feet and erupted in applause.
“Get up there,” Astrid blurted. “You can thank me later.”
Clay ascended the stairs up onto the stage and accepted his award. The way he admired the figurine told Astrid all she needed to know. The expression on his face was one of pure satisfaction and pride. “Wow,” Clay said into the microphone. “Thank you for this honor. It means so much to me. I won’t bore you with a long speech, but I want to thank everyone at Sterling Enterprises. Our team is incredible. I also want to thank my sister and my daughter, neither of whom could be here tonight, but to whom I owe everything. They are my life.” He drew a deep breath and a pleased smile bloomed on his face. “Thank you.”
Astrid was exactly the sort of woman to cry at happy moments, and the tears were streaming down her cheeks as she watched Clay leave the stage and accept congratulations from the people he passed on his way back to their table.
When he reached her, he was shaking his head. “I should have thanked you specifically from the stage. I’m so sorry. My mind was a blur up there.”
“But you did thank me. I’m part of the team.” She waved it off, not wanting to admit that she was slightly disappointed to not have her name mentioned. “Don’t worry about it. I’m just happy for you.”
“But you are an important part of my work life and I’ve been a jerk. I guess it took spending this time with you to see that we can work well together.”
Astrid was flushed with warmth from head to toe. She was not only immensely proud of him for his award, she was glad they’d finally broken through a barrier together. Was this a taste of things to come? Could he ever let her in? “I’m so happy to hear that.”
“Not half as happy as I am, knowing that you and I have a bottle of champagne waiting for us upstairs.”
Six
“You’re sure you don’t want to go to th
e reception?” Astrid had been struggling to get a word in. A constant stream of friends, acquaintances, and even strangers kept stopping to congratulate Clay as they filed out of the ballroom. “I’m sure the other winners will all be there.”
“Going to a party is the last thing I want to do.” It wasn’t the celebration of the award that he’d been seeking. It was the recognition. As far as he was concerned, that could have been a quiet exercise. It didn’t have to be a big show. But there was more to his disinterest in the party than that. Here in a different town, away from the office, his family and outside influences, Astrid was the center of his orbit right now. She had made this night amazing. She’d forced him out of his own head and out of his comfort zone. If he’d been left to his own devices, he would have been his usual one-man island. And he didn’t have to imagine the empty feeling he would’ve been stuck with if he’d been here all alone. He knew that feeling all too well.
“So we’ll go upstairs and toast your big win?”
“As long as you’re okay with it. I don’t want you to miss out on any fun. You look so beautiful in that dress. I wouldn’t blame you if you wanted to make the rounds at the party.”
“Are you flirting with me, Clay?”
It was no longer an easy task to breathe. One kiss. That’s all I need. But he would not kiss her. He wasn’t even sure she was attracted to him. Still, he was prepared to be honest with her about his reasons for having struggled to work with her. She deserved the truth. She’d earned it. He was prepared to live with the consequences.
“It’s not flirtation. It’s the truth.” The ballroom had largely emptied out. “You are easily the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. I’m sure hundreds of men have told you that.”
Her eyes bore no judgment for what he’d admitted. Only curiosity. “You really think that?”
“Isn’t it a bit obvious?”
