"Yes, I did.” She glanced at the clock on the wall and frowned. “And I have to admit. I'm a bit worried."
"Worried?” Casey asked. “Why? He's a big boy."
"True, but Trevor should have been back over an hour ago."
"Maybe he went on home after he finished."
"I suppose he could have, but I doubt it. I sent him to Mrs. Whitcomb's to install that doggie door."
"Oh. Well that explains it. He'll be lucky to leave that house with his tool belt in one piece."
"Why? Is the dog vicious?” Terri asked in a sudden panic. “I don't know if our insurance covers dog attacks! I better pull the policy."
"Don't bother getting up, Terri,” Casey said, and motioned for her friend to stay still.
"It's Mrs. Whitcomb we're worried about,” Syd said. “She's known for her bite for younger men. I can't believe you haven't heard about her."
The sound of an outer door slamming silenced the conversation. The three women eyed each other, then turned toward the door of the office. There stood Trevor. His shirt was torn in shreds and bright red lipstick smudges covered his face. And by his stance, Sydnie knew he was mad as hell.
"I just remembered I've got a date tonight.” Casey set down her glass, slipped on her sandals and hurried from the room. “See you all in the morning."
"I've got to go, too. It's supper time for Thomas O'Malley and he gets cranky if he doesn't get his kitty treats on time,” Terri said as she grabbed her shoes and followed Casey.
Trevor slammed the door and moved to stand over Sydnie. She saw a muscle working at his jaw. “You set me up,” he bit out.
"I did no such thing."
"The hell you didn't. You knew that old lady was like a Piranha ready to devour the flesh of any man who walked through her wrought iron gates."
"It was a legitimate job.” Syd got to her feet. It was all she could do to keep from laughing at the sight of the lipstick smeared on his face. “Whew. You need a shower, Trev.” She waved her hand in front of her nose. “Chanel No. 5 really isn't your fragrance.” She walked to the bar sink and set down her empty beer.
"Dammit, Sydnie. Admit it. You set me up."
"I did not. The woman wanted a doggie door installed. I figured it would be an easy job for you to get started with. How was I to know she'd attack you?” Sydnie shrugged and forced back a smile. It really was fun to watch Trevor sweat.
"She took this Studs for Hire thing literally. I think you'd best be making it clear to your clients they don't get extras with the handyman work."
"Speaking of work. Did you get the door installed?"
"Yes. Fabio now has his own door at just the right height so he doesn't have to lift his precious little legs,” Trev snapped.
"And did you do a good job?"
"Of course I did a good job. I'm not a schmuck."
"I just want to make sure. Customer satisfaction is our number one goal."
"As far as I'm concerned, the grand madam should be more than satisfied. We about wore a track in the carpeting around the bed. Who knew a seventy-year-old woman in heels could move so fast."
"I'm glad to hear you had such a good time.” She smiled.
"Good time? Hell. That was a nightmare.” Trevor raked his fingers through his hair. “You wouldn't happen to have another beer around here, would ya?"
"In the fridge. I don't normally allow employees such liberties, but I'll make an exception this time. You've had a rough first day."
Trevor scowled and popped the top on the beer bottle. He leaned against the bar and took a long swallow. “Ahh. I needed that."
"Did she pay you?” she asked as she cleaned up the assortment of take-out boxes and bags lined up on the bar.
"Yeah. I held onto it tight as I catapulted for the stairs in an effort to save my life.” Trevor pulled the payment from his shirt pocket and waved it in front of Sydnie's nose. She moved to grab the check, but Trev snatched it away. “I ought to get ten-times my wage for this fiasco you put me through, Syd. Unless—” a devilish grin spread across his face—"you personally want to make it right."
"In your dreams, Vanden Bosch."
He set down his beer and grabbed her hips. He pulled her tight against him, trapping the check between his fingers and her hipbone. “Every night,” he drawled.
The feel of his strong hands on her body sent her pulse racing into overdrive. There went her blood pressure again. She really needed to remember who she was dealing with here. “Every night?” she whispered against his lips.
"Oh, yeah. Every night...” His day's growth of beard tickled her chin, and Sydnie forced herself to find every ounce of resolve she possessed to break up this tryst that was about to happen.
"Good for you.” She eased her hand down the length of his arm and clasped his hand with her own. The strength and power in his fingers sent her pulse racing, but she couldn't let the scorching heat of his skin against hers attack her senses. She snatched the check from his grasp, broke the embrace and backed away. “Keep right on dreaming, Vanden Bosch, because that's as good as it's going to get."
Syd hurried to her desk and placed the check in a money bag. She hoped she didn't look as frazzled as she felt. It wouldn't do for Trevor to have any idea how he affected her libido.
The phone rang once, twice, three times.
"Aren't you going to answer that?” he asked.
"It's after hours. I'll let the machine get it.” Sydnie glanced at the caller ID. “Uh-oh."
"What is it?"
"It's Mrs. Whitcomb."
"Damn. The woman doesn't give up."
After Sydnie's brief message, the machine beeped and the sex-crazed woman came on the line. “This is Mrs. Reginald Whitcomb. I want my money back. I wasn't satisfied with your service. What kind of stud runs from a woman anyway? He was supposed to chase me! I thought sex was a part of the deal! I want my money back, do you hear!?” A shrill series of barks punctuated the woman's words before the receiver went down with a slam and the line went dead.
Sydnie shot Trevor a look that she hoped would kill. “Thanks, Trev. We're just getting our business started and already I've got to smooth things over with an unhappy customer. Mrs. Whitcomb knows practically every affluent person in this city. She could ruin us in a matter of minutes at one of her cocktail parties."
"What about me? I'm the one who's been violated here. She attacked me.” Trev jabbed his thumb against his broad chest.
"And you don't like the way that feels do you?” Sydnie lifted her chin and stood her ground. “Welcome to the club."
"Ohhh. I see where this is going. So I was right. You did set me up. You're still sore about me getting that promotion."
"I earned it, Trevor. You didn't. All you ever did was make my life miserable and steal the opportunity I'd been working toward for years. Don't you think I have a right to be sore?"
Trevor's gut clenched. He knew how much advancement in the ad agency had meant to Sydnie, but there was nothing he could do about it now. It was done, in the past. He'd tried to explain to Smythe that Sydnie deserved the promotion, but his chauvinistic boss wouldn't hear of it. Charles Smythe didn't promote women.
"How many times do I have to say I'm sorry, Syd? It's just the way things worked out."
"Sometimes sorry isn't good enough."
"Look. If it makes you feel any better, remember, I ended up getting the boot, too.” Again, Trevor's gut clenched. He hated lying to Sydnie. She was a sweet, sexy woman who deserved better. And right now, Trevor despised his boss more than ever for putting him in this damnable situation.
The phone rang, shattering the heavy silence hovering between them. The machine beeped and a now familiar voice came on the line.
"Have Mr. Stud come back and finish the job and I'll be satisfied,” Mrs. Whitcomb hollered. “If you aren't willing to appease me, then I'm calling the Better Business Bureau and reporting your company.” Another bark from the illustrious Fabio followed before the line went dead.
&n
bsp; Sydnie crossed her arms and shot Trevor her best, I'm going to ring your neck, look.
Trevor groaned. What the hell had Smythe gotten him into here?
CHAPTER THREE
Trevor entered his no-frills apartment to the sound of his phone ringing. For Pete's sake. Was that all his life was anymore, a series of phones ringing? It sure as hell wasn't a series of sexual encounters.
He grabbed the receiver. “Vanden Bosch."
"Where the hell've you been?” Smythe grumbled.
"Working,” Trev grumbled right back.
"I've been trying to reach you for hours. I must have left a dozen messages on your cell phone. Why haven't you returned my calls?"
"I've been busy.” In truth, Trev had shut off his cell earlier that afternoon so he wouldn't be bombarded with any more of Smythe's interrogations and threats.
"Getting information, I hope."
"I'm working on it."
"Well work harder. Alfred Mars is coming in first thing tomorrow morning and he's insisting upon seeing Sydnie. We need something to satisfy him with."
"Postpone. I need more time.” Trevor combed his fingers through his hair in frustration. Sydnie was proving to be a tougher cookie to crumble than he'd first anticipated. Cripes, he wasn't any good at this subterfuge bit.
"Postpone? Are you nuts? You don't put off a man like Mars."
Trevor cursed under his breath. Smythe would never understand what he'd been through that afternoon. And Trevor didn't have the energy to explain it. All he wanted to do was take a quick shower and crawl into bed. “I don't have anything to give you yet."
"Dammit, why not?! What have you been doing all day? You had plenty of time to seduce her and get us something."
Trevor groaned and shook his head. The man had no finesse. Sydnie needed to be handled with great care if he hoped to milk her for ideas on the Stardust Lingerie account. It was a wonder Smythe had made it this far in the advertising business. “Let's just say it's been a trying day."
"Well, I'm sorry to hear that,” Smythe said with sarcasm. “Just get with the program. Do whatever it takes. Mars will be in my office in less then twelve hours. We've got to pacify him with something. We can't afford to lose this account, Vanden Bosch. And neither can you. Blow this and you're pounding the pavement, do you hear me?"
Trevor gritted his teeth at Smythe's all too familiar threat. “I can't be there."
"What?! You have to be. I need your help with this guy. He's as tough as a Mac truck.” Mars was tough all right, and that was one reason he favored Sydnie. She was small in stature in comparison to the former pro-wrestler, but she knew exactly when, and how to stand up to him. She was a woman with a strong spirit and Mars admired her for it.
So did Trevor.
"Sydnie is expecting me at work in the morning. What is she going to think if I don't show up? I'll never get anywhere with her then."
"Call her and tell you can't be there for a few hours."
"It'll only be my second day on the job. She's suspicious enough the way it is. I don't want to do anything that'll add to her doubts."
"One little white lie won't hurt,” Smythe said with irritation in his voice.
One little white lie? Try lie number one hundred and counting. “Like what?"
"Tell her you've got a prostrate exam you forgot about. She won't question you then, and she'll probably even be sympathetic."
"Wrong answer.” Trev bent over an examination table sure as hell conjured up an attractive image. He rolled his eyes. No way was he going to tell the most enchanting woman he'd ever known that he was having a prostrate exam.
* * * *
Sydnie hung up the phone after spending the better part of the morning trying to mollify Mrs. Whitcomb. Finally, after putting some slick smooth talking techniques she'd learned from her older brothers to work, she managed to convince the woman she had gotten exactly what she paid for. And then some. Mrs. Whitcomb was a happy camper once more and singing all kinds of praises about Studs for Hire.
"I'll be sure and tell all my friends,” Mrs. Whitcomb chirped before hanging up the phone.
"It's about time for lunch,” Terri said as she entered the office. She stood in front of Syd's desk. “What should we have today? Lobster? Filet Mignons? Or how about shark? I've never eaten shark, have you? Course, I'm not really one for sea food, so it only makes sense that I've never eaten shark."
"I haven't even thought about lunch,” Sydnie answered without really listening to her friend. “I've been busy smoothing things over with Mrs. Whitcomb after yesterday's fiasco."
"And did you?” Casey asked as she joined them.
"Everything's taken care of.” Sydnie looked up from her impromptu notes for a much needed employee handbook. After only five minutes she'd nearly filled the page of a yellow legal pad. As soon as she got back from lunch, she'd start working on a company policy agreement that would be given to all clients before any work was begun. From now on, there would be no more misunderstandings about what services Studs for Hire offered.
"Great. Speaking of carpenters. I need one, and fast. We've got an emergency job on deck,” Terri said.
"Yes. Where is our hotter-than-sin handyman?” Casey asked. “I haven't seen him all morning."
"Come to think of it, I haven't either. Did he check in with you, Sydnie?"
"Yes, he did. I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I was concentrating on how to handle Mrs. Whitcomb."
"So where is he? Don't tell me he quit already?” Casey asked with concern. “We didn't even get a chance for a first date."
Syd frowned at the idea of her friend dating Trevor. The two were cut from the same flamboyant, expensive bolt of cloth. And Sydnie could see Casey having a very brief affair with a man like Trevor. She'd dated men like him before, but after getting her heart crushed a few times, she'd adopted the old adage—opposites attract.
Since then, Casey preferred to shy away from men as intelligent and headstrong as she. She liked being the one in control, and after a while most men grew tired of being her puppy dog on a chain. As a result, at age thirty, she was as unattached as a nun. To appease her trounced heart, she went out and spent money she didn't have.
Sydnie on the other hand, preferred something much simpler and safer for her bank account.
Chocolate. The ultimate broken heart remedy, self-esteem booster, and aphrodisiac. Of course, the smooth creamy confections could wreak havoc with a girl's hips if she didn't gorge with caution.
"He didn't quit,” Sydnie reassured them. “He forgot he had a doctor's appointment this morning."
"Oh, I hope nothing's wrong. Is he sick? I hope my rabbit story didn't upset him,” Terri muttered.
"He didn't say what the problem was."
"And you didn't ask,” Casey stated dryly.
"No. I figured it was none of my business."
"I'd say it was more like you didn't want him to think you cared,” Casey said.
"That's ... not true. He's nothing more than the hired help. I didn't want to pry."
"Sydnie, you really should show more concern for our employees. Especially the new ones. We don't want them to start then quit right away. It's a paperwork nightmare."
"All Syd cares about is getting even, Terri."
"Even?"
"With Trevor. He's the one?"
Understanding dawned on Terri. “The one! Really? And you still hired him? I take back what I said. Maybe you care too much."
Sydnie rested her forehead on her fingertips and sighed. She shared everything in her life with her friends, and they, in turn, did the same with her.
But there was one small item she'd kept to herself. And that item was Trevor Vanden Bosch. Oh, she'd vented and cried on their shoulders about the jerk at work who'd robbed her of her career. But not once did she reveal his name.
Or that she thought he was the sexist man alive.
Or that he had the most unsettling way of making her blood simmer at a slow boil.
/> The sting of their almost torrid lovemaking scene in his office still haunted her dreams at night. But his rejection bit to the bone. What a fool she'd been to think Trevor had actually desired her.
But after all the hell and humiliation she'd been through, thanks to Trevor, she at least deserved the completion of that love scene.
Now who was dreaming?
"Let's go to lunch,” Sydnie said. “I need chocolate."
* * * *
Trevor entered Charles Smythe's office to find Alfred Mars pacing the silvery-grey carpet, his hands tightly laced behind his back.
James, Sherry - [Studs For Hire 01] Page 3
