"Tell me about it." I picked up another slice of pizza Emma had been thoughtful enough to bring when she found out I was still at work. See? Who needed to have friends at work when I had good friends in my personal life? "But it's not that easy to find a place that will take one hundred people for dinner in a private lounge and luxury accommodations on such short notice."
"And the casino has those?"
"Yes." Heaven help me if the casino's definition of "luxury" didn't fit in with Otto's. Dammit. There went that stomach gurgling-in-terror thing again.
"God, you look sick. Are you thinking about Otto coming after you with a baseball bat again?"
"I dreamed that only one time, and I won that battle with my ninja skills, so obviously, in my subconscious, I realize that if it really came down to a battle, I'd win. So, no, I'm fine."
"You have no ninja skills."
"Not literally, no. But subconsciously, I'm sure I could call upon them in a life and death situation." Maybe. Or maybe not. But it was fun to dream.
Emma drummed her fingers on her desk. "So, you're freaking out because some pretentious bastard usurped all of Isabel's time?"
"I'm a pretentious bastard?" a male voice interrupted. "Is that what you've been telling people?"
Emma and I bolted upright in our chairs and spun around.
Blaine was standing in my doorway.
Chapter Two
Note to self: when you're insulting the person who occupies the next office, make sure he's gone home for the night before spouting off in loud tones with an open office door. "My friend was talking about someone else," I said. Yes, that was a great cover-up. He'd be sure to believe that one.
Emma hopped to her feet and stuck out her hand. "Emma Jansen. Shannon's friend. I have no money, no lucrative contacts, and nothing that would make me a worthwhile investment of your lawyerly time."
Blaine grinned and shook her hand. "Blaine Hampton. Nice to meet you." I watched his eyes flit over her body.
His obvious appreciation of her appearance made me study her more closely. Emma was wearing cut-off denim shorts that showed off a daring amount of flesh, and a tank top with spaghetti straps. She had bare feet, a sparkly purple toe ring, and plenty of curves. Not exactly the type of outfit usually seen in a law firm, but apparently the kind of irreverent persona that was interesting to Blaine.
And no, that jab in my gut wasn't jealousy or anything like that merely because he certainly hadn't looked at me that way. In fact, I was quite sure he'd barely looked at me at all. Just passed over me as some insignificant speck of dust in his way.
"So, where are you from?" Emma asked him.
Good question. If I'd had some sort of brain, I could have engaged him in some friendly conversation like that. Then maybe he wouldn't have been quite so ready to throw me over his shoulder like pond scum.
"New York," he said, his voice far warmer than it had been all day outside my office.
New York. That made sense. He had probably worked for some huge firm in New York, and now he was going to bring all that New York business to the firm. If I wasn't so tired, strung out, and annoyed at how he was checking out Emma, I might actually be mature enough to note that maybe he deserved to be partner and that it was a good move for the firm.
But as it was, I was way too far gone to generate any kind of dignified response.
"So, you know anyone in town?" Emma asked him, tossing one of her sassy grins at him. She was making absolutely no attempt to be the kind of proper, dull female that a lawyer might be interested in. She was being Emma, with all of her charm and personality.
Blaine raised an eyebrow. "Some business associates."
"Well, that's no fun. Come out with us on Thursday night. Shannon and I are meeting up with a couple of our friends at a fun bar."
What? That's exactly what I wanted, having one of my work nightmares invading my inner sanctum of peace and tranquility. Not. Emma knew that. What was she doing?
Blaine glanced at me, then at Emma's legs, then back at her face. "What time?"
She glanced at me, and I shook my head. She shot me a grin, then turned back to Blaine. "Oh, maybe nine-thirty? That gives Shannon time to get through with work."
He nodded. "Sure."
Sure? What was that all about? Blaine coming out with us? To a bar? After work?
"Great. I'll be by to pick up Shannon. If you make sure you're clean and promise to stay ten feet behind us, you can walk over with us," Emma said.
Blaine grinned. A real grin. Not some boring, staid smile. A grin. Made his dimples look damned cute. "It's a deal." He glanced at me, and some of the sparkle in his eyes faded. Not that I was taking personal offense to that little nugget or anything. "So, I'm outta here. You guys okay to get home?"
I blinked in surprise. "Is that why you came in here in the first place? To see if I was okay getting home?" Because if he had been, that was really nice of him. He didn't even like me, but he still wanted me to get home alive?
"Of course," he said, looking surprised I'd even have to ask. "It's after ten."
Great. So he was rich, arrogant, connected, a secretary-thief, totally hot, lusting after Emma, and he was enough of a gentleman to want to make sure I got home okay?
What kind of a combination was that? I needed to be able to resent him, not be forced to admit he had some decency behind that gorgeous exterior.
"I'm fine, but thanks for asking." Maybe it wasn't too late to salvage the situation. Maybe I could show a little cleavage on Thursday night at the bar and then he'd realize he had incredibly interesting and note-worthy woman on the other side of his wall. And then he'd be treating me differently. Oh yes, he'd be getting my coffee, making up excuses to talk to me, helping me with my work. Anything to get his hands on my body.
The beauty of being a woman in a world dominated by sex-crazed men. Breasts had all the power.
The only problem with that plan was that I didn't want my worth judged by my breasts. Le sigh.
"See ya," Emma chirped, getting another smile in return.
I waited three minutes after I last heard his feet walk down the hall, and then I turned to Emma. "What was that?"
"Oh, my God, Shannon. You didn't tell me he was hot."
It was part of our code: always alert each other to the presence of hot guys. "When he shut the door in my face, he lost some of his appeal."
"Wow. Rich, gorgeous, and lonely with no friends. He's just waiting for me to warm him up." Emma wiggled her eyebrows. "Thursday night is looking mighty interesting..."
"Emma! You can't sleep with him!"
"Why not?"
"Because I work with him." Duh.
"So?"
"What do you mean, 'so?' I have to deal with him every day. Seeing him in his underwear in the middle of the night isn't exactly conducive to a great working relationship." The downside of Emma and I being roommates: her sex life was my life, too. "Besides, where's your support of me? He stole Isabel. Insulted me. Slammed the door in my face." Okay, so I was exaggerating. So what? To combat the pheromones he'd apparently been waving in Emma's direction, I needed to play hardball.
"Shannon?" Emma swiveled around in her chair and propped her elbow on my desk.
Here we go. The apology. "Yes?"
She raised her well-coifed auburn eyebrows. "Did it ever occur to you if you make nice with this guy outside of work and maybe be friends with him, that he might become easier to work with?"
I sighed. She had a good point. "He doesn't seem like he has a friendly side, though. At least when he's talking to me." And therein lay the crux of the problem. He'd treated me as an insignificant peon, just like my family did. I was so tired of that, and yes, I was a little overly sensitive.
Emma grinned. "Relax. It'll be fine. And I won't sleep with him. He's not my type anyway. You know how I feel about men in suits."
True. Emma's idea of a hot date was a guy with a Harley, who was in serious need of a haircut and a shower. Which is why w
e were such good friends. We never encroached upon each other's men. I always dated the suits.
Including my ex. Two years of my life thrown away on Max. It was a good thing women didn't reach their sexual prime until later or I'd have missed my window, assuming I was right to break up with him and my true love lay somewhere in my future. Which I wasn't sure of at all. Scratch that. Yes, I was sure. It had been the right thing to do.
"So, I have a new job." Emma bounced in her chair, her brown curls tossing lightly around her face. "Want to help?"
I leaned back in the leather chair that reminded me too much of the one my mom had given me for my sixteenth birthday. Some girls got beautiful jewelry for their sweet sixteen. I'd gotten a deluxe office chair. "You quit your job already? You've been there for what? Three months?"
"It wasn't for me." She perched on the edge of her chair. "So, I got a job as a beer girl."
"A beer girl?" I raised my brows. "What does that mean?"
"I go to bars for a beer company, wearing cute outfits, and flirting with all the guys and giving away promo stuff." She grinned, her eyes dancing. "Does that sound awesome or what?"
"It does sound fun," I admitted. Like really fun. Even if it was just for one night, I'd love to run around, have fun, be flirty, and look cute, not dignified.
Not that I'd ever quit my job to do that. My parents were barely surviving my lack of a graduate degree. Imagine if I said I was a beer girl? They'd probably disown me and tell all their friends I was in prison for embezzling billions of dollars. At least that would be impressive because it would involve large sums of money. "You'd be amazing at that. You're the most outgoing and adorable person I know." Truth, there.
Emma grinned. "So, want to do it with me?"
"With you?" I sat up. "Really? They have two openings?"
"Yes! Do it with me!" Emma grinned. "We would have so much fun! We could hit all the bars and—"
Oh, come on. What was I thinking? "I can't." I bit my lip and sighed. "I already have a job, remember?"
"You don't have to quit your job, you dork. Just fill in with me sometimes. It's at night, so you can do it when you get off work. Like Saturday night. Got plans Saturday night?"
Other than dreading the pink slip I was sure to get Monday after Otto Nelson, Managing Partner from Hell, got wind of the Friday night outing to the casino? No, not really. "I can't go be a beer girl."
"Sure you can. It'll be fun. It'll loosen you up. Take your mind off Blaine and Max."
"Max?" I couldn't quite suppress the ache in my belly at his name. I did miss him. He wasn't the right guy for me, but that didn't change the fact that he'd been a huge part of my life for the last two years. Being alone was hard. "Did he call again?"
"Well, actually, he was passed out in the hallway in front of our apartment when I left to come over here. I had to step over him. Hopefully he'll be gone by the time we get back."
And to think my parents were upset I'd dumped him. "Excellent."
Max was passed out? That was totally my fault for dumping him. I thought of him sprawled on the hall floor, and guilt hammered at me. How could I not feel guilty? I'd gone out with him for two years and still loved him and had spent most of the last two weeks wondering whether I'd done the right thing by breaking up with him.
There was nothing wrong with him, but I felt like there should be more. But what if I was wrong? What if Max was my best chance for happiness, and I'd made the mistake of dumping him in hopes of finding that elusive man who would stir my soul?
Emma wrinkled her brows. "At least he's not violent or anything. I'm sure he'll recover eventually and move on."
"He's going to get over me?" Move on? I didn't want him to move on. What if I changed my mind, but he was already married to someone else? Then I'd spend the rest of my life alone and suffering because of my idiocy. No, it was right to break up with him. I had to trust my gut.
"Of course he's going to recover. You're not that great." Emma winked, but it didn't really feel funny to me.
"Well, fantastic. That's what I want." It wasn't. I wanted him to pine for me, to be there in case I realized I'd made a huge mistake.
"Of course it is." Emma rubbed her chin thoughtfully. "Maybe we should invite him along on Thursday and try to set him up with someone else so he'll forget about you..."
Oh my God. I felt like someone had just stabbed me in the gut.
Emma's eyes widened at my expression. "Or not."
"Yes, let's not do that. Thanks." Blaine and Max in one night? I'd have to make sure I got hit by a bus on the way to the bar so I wouldn't have to show up. A quick trip to the emergency room on life support would be preferable to Blaine and Max at one time. Nothing like being trampled by a guy like Blaine to make me want to go crawling back to Max. I wasn't immune enough from Max yet, and I needed to avoid him. It was my only chance to break free and try life without him.
"So, are you in for Saturday night?" Emma urged. "A little bar hopping and flirting?"
Though totally undignified for a McCormick, it did sound like fun...oh, hell. "Wait a sec. The beer girl thing is this Saturday night?"
"Yeah...why?"
I flopped back in my chair. Relief that I couldn't go. Annoyance that I couldn't go. "My sister's engagement party."
"It is? This Saturday?" Emma looked startled. "Really?"
"Yes, really. You'll have to postpone starting your new job, I guess." As a longtime friend, Emma was an automatic invite to my sister's engagement party.
She frowned. "I'll have to see if I can get out of the beer girl thing for that night. Not sure, though."
I tightened my grip on my chair. "You're going to bail on me?"
"Well, I'll try to come to the party. I've had this job for only six hours. I'm not ready to lose it yet." Emma stood up. "Come on. It's ten-thirty. Give it up for tonight already."
Emma was right. I'd gotten the reservations for Friday night, had the major crises dealt with today, and no doubt needed some sleep to deal with the craziness of tomorrow. I needed to be bright-eyed and bushy-tailed for the interns, as my grandma used to say.
My grandma. The last member of my family (except for me) on either the McCormick or the Fischer side who didn't have a graduate degree. Too bad the clan killed her to protect the family name.
Oh, sure, they say she died of a heart attack, but I never believed that.
I figured it was just a matter of time until they did me in, too. Unless, of course, I could land a guy like Blaine, or if I would take back Max. If I couldn't be worthy of my last name alone, landing the right guy would make up for it. But if I failed in that category as well… I would be toast. When my family realized all hope of my redemption was lost, it would be time to start checking under my car before I started the ignition.
And to think it was only five days until my sister's engagement party, when every over-achieving member of my family would be present. How would I ever survive the anticipation?
Chapter Three
My briefcase over my shoulder, I followed Emma out of the elevators into the grand lobby of my office building. The moment I saw the guard who was at the security desk, my whole body relaxed, and I smiled, my first real smile of the day.
Van Reinhart was on duty. At age twenty-six, he was one of only two security guards from the same generation as I was. The rest were retired uniforms looking for some extra cash. But not Van. He was cool, and he was my buddy.
Honestly, he was also incredibly attractive, funny, and charming. When I first met him, I'd had more than a few fantasies about him sweeping me off my feet, but since I'd been dating Max, I'd quickly tried to squash them. Which was good, because he'd since become an oasis in my crazy world, and I was grateful for every moment I got to spend with my super-hot-but-only-a-friend security guard.
He was my respite. I needed a dose of Van tonight. He would make everything okay, or at least, he'd make me feel like everything was okay.
I touched my friend's arm and nodded a
cross the lobby. "Hey, Emma, let's stop and visit Van."
Emma checked out the security stand, then shook her head. "I'm going to hit the road. You can catch up." Emma was inspired to stop at the guard's booth for a little chitchat only when his counterpart Fritz was on duty. Fritz was taller and leaner than Van.
To me, Van was ten times hotter than Fritz, and I was glad Emma felt the opposite. Not that Van was mine on a romantic level, but he was mine as friends, and I would have been super bummed to lose him to Emma's charms. Me, possessive of Van even though we weren't even dating? Maybe a little.
As much as I loved to kick back at home with Emma, a glass of wine, and some late-night streaming, tonight I wanted Van. I felt no regret as I waved her off. "Okay, I'll see you later."
"Don't stay too late. Every girl needs her beauty sleep." Emma grinned as she waved at Van and then sashayed across the lobby toward the revolving doors, dancing on her toes like a fairy in the moonlight. Two tired-looking businessmen in suits had to actually jump out of her way to keep from getting danced on.
"You're such a goof," I said.
She grinned and pirouetted out the door.
I was still chuckling at her antics as I turned and headed toward the one normal person in my life. Van was safe because he wasn't in any other sphere of my life. He didn't know my family, anyone at work, my friends, or even anything about being in a law firm. He was the antithesis of the world I was stuck in, and he was my oasis. No pressure, no deep relationship, just a friendship of convenience. I could just be me, and that was fine with him. It was perfect.
I grinned and sat down next to Van behind the desk. "Hey, Van."
He doffed his navy-blue security cap. "Shannon. You're looking haggard and tired tonight. Good day at work?"
God, I loved his voice. It was deep, like a real man, but it had an edge to it, as if he were about to start laughing at any second. There was so much life in Van's voice, so much expression. He was so alive, and I basked in it. "Is that how you seduce all the ladies? Tell them how horrible they look?"
He shrugged. "Just you."
One More Kiss (A Too Many Men Romantic Comedy / Chick Lit Novel) Page 2
