"Do I?"
"Yes. But if you need proof, we could pick up where we left off tonight."
"Trevor ... I...” she sighed. “I think we need to take a step back here. Give this some time."
"Sure. We can take it one long kiss at a time."
"Trevor,” she took a deep breath. He envisioned her shaking her head. “It's too soon. I'm not ready to put my heart on the line with you again. I don't think I could survive you walking away from me a second time."
Trevor's gut twisted at the truth of her words. If only she knew how much walking away had hurt him, too. How paralyzed he'd been after she'd left. He'd barely functioned in the rigors of day-to-day society. And when he walked through the door of his apartment at night, the pain increased tenfold. So he took up jogging and pushed his body to the maximum in an effort to banish the numbness of his soul.
But nothing ever worked completely.
Then Smythe had offered him a proposition: Go undercover at Studs, get Sydnie's ideas, become a partner in the agency, and if all worked out right, get the girl, too.
Although Trevor had disagreed with Smythe's tactic to steal Sydnie's ideas, he'd jumped at the opportunity to be near her once more.
He was being given a second chance to have Sydnie in his life. He wouldn't screw it up like last time. But getting the girl at the end of this show, would no doubt be the biggest challenge of his life. He wished there was some other way to handle this.
"Sure, Sydnie. I understand. We'll take it slow. See where things go."
"Yeah, see where things go,” she said softly.
"Look. It's really late. I've kept you awake long enough. I'll see you tomorrow."
"Goodnight, Trevor."
"Goodnight.” There was a pause and he hoped she'd change her mind and ask him to come over, but then he heard the click on the line. Slowly he put the receiver back in its cradle. “Sweet dreams, Syd."
* * * *
Sydnie hung up the phone and tried to regain control of her ragged breathing and her pounding heart. Flinging herself back on the pillows, she covered her face with her hands. What the heck was going on here? When did this situation with Trevor get so out-of-hand?
"The minute he walked through my door, that's when,” she grumbled in the darkness. “Vanden Bosch knows exactly what buttons of yours to push, and you're letting him push ‘em. You're weak, Syd. Damn weak."
Just because the guy looked a lot like Mel Gibson, and had a sexy voice to match, didn't mean she should forget about the past and fall at his feet as if he was Elvis.
There was a lot of hurt between them that needed to be righted, and questions that needed to be answered. So far he hadn't offered those answers, and in fact, acted as though there weren't any wrongs to right.
Trevor was using his attributes to get under her skin.
And he was succeeding.
"Ugh! I had a weak moment, I swear!” She sat up and grabbed a pillow and punched its middle. “Okay, maybe a couple two, or three."
But how could a girl not have weak moments when a man whispered in her ear how much he'd dreamed about removing her underwear? She cuddled the pillow in her arms and rested her chin on its downy softness. An unruly curl flopped in her face and she blew it back into place.
Worst part of it was, she knew what Trevor felt like. She knew intimately the texture of his skin, the solidness of his muscles, and the musky scent of him. She knew the commanding force of his smooth lips, the wicked taste of his tongue.
She knew what it felt like to be in his arms, his body pressed next hers.
She knew too darn much.
But there was one aspect of Trevor she didn't know. And that was how it would feel to make total, uninhibited love with him. Butterflies skittered in her tummy at the thought. She curled onto her side, hugging the pillow to her breast like a desperately needed security blanket.
"Syd, you're in a real pickle here."
* * * *
Sydnie glanced at her watch and hurried into the office. She was running way behind this morning.
Chalk it up to a lack of sleep.
Once she'd finally left the office last night after her dangerous encounter with Trevor, and went home to bed, all she managed to do was toss and turn for hours, reliving all that had transpired between them. Then, when she'd finally fallen asleep, Trevor called, and with his sexy talk about lingerie, she started her tossing and turning all over again.
And what a phone conversation they'd had. Just thinking about it, even in the bright morning light, made her feverish. Not a good sign.
This predicament with Trevor was making her heart race, her head throb, and her stomach ache.
Was she ready to take a chance again? Ready to risk her heart when she knew all to well how it felt to have it broken in two?
Sydnie entered the office and saw both Terri and Casey hovering over a computer. Knowing they would razz her terribly about being late, she walked on by without so much as a word, hoping they wouldn't notice her arrival. Her office door stood a mere four feet away. Almost home free.
"Glad you decided to come to work today,” Casey said.
Sydnie stopped in her tracks. Her head fell back and she sighed. Her muscles tightened at the prospect of a zillion questions bound to be flung her way. She loved her friends, and any other time she'd tell them everything.
But not this. Not yet. Trevor was a different kind of dilemma that for some reason, she felt compelled to handle on her own.
Sydnie turned and read the expectant looks on both of her friends faces. “I got out of here late last night. I needed to catch some extra sleep.” She headed into her office, hoping that would be the end of the conversation.
"You're stressed, Syd,” Casey said as she and Terri made themselves comfortable on Syd's couch.
So much for hope.
"I thought one of the ideas behind starting our own business was to relieve the day-to-day pressures we'd all been facing,” Terri said.
"Eventually, yes,” Syd answered. “But, we've been in the corporate world long enough to know that any new business takes a ton of work to get it going and make it successful."
"True. But you're one of the bosses,” Casey said. “You need to play a little. And by the look of the crow's feet developing at the corners of your eyes, I'd say you're more stressed than ever. Maybe you should try Botox."
"Stick needles all over in your face?!” Terri shuddered. “I hate shots. I cry when Thomas O'Malley gets his rabies shot."
"It's a tiny needle, you hardly feel a thing,” Casey said.
"No way. That's not for me,” Terri said. “You should take up jogging, Syd. Now that's a good, healthy way to relieve stress."
Syd shook her head. “Jogging gives me the hives,” she said sarcastically.
"Too, bad. If you were a jogger, you could go with Trevor,” Terri said.
"Trevor jogs?” Syd asked, a little surprised. But then she shouldn't be. She'd made enough contact with his muscles last night to know the man was in excellent shape.
"Sure does. He's got a great pair of legs, too,” Terri said with awe.
"How do you know that?” Syd asked. A tinge of jealousy reared its ugly head, and the idea that she was feeling this way made her more than a little mad.
"He was wearing jogging shorts."
"No. No. I mean, how do you know he jogs?"
"Because I ran into him in the park last night. Well, I didn't actually run into him. It was more like I stumbled across him as he was talking on his cell phone."
"Stumbled?” Casey quirked a finely plucked brow. “What was he doing, lying in the middle of the jogging path?"
"Of course not. He was ... well, okay. I admit it.” Terri threw up her hands. “I eavesdropped. A little.” Her cheeks flushed with color.
"Tsk, tsk, tsk.” Casey wiggled her index finger at Terri. “Didn't your mama teach you any manners?"
"Sure she did. But I couldn't help but overhear. I had to stop and tie my shoe.
And he was saying some weird stuff and I had to listen. I thought maybe he was involved in a drug deal or something. And then it sounded like he was plotting a murder."
"What?!” Sydney and Casey asked in unison.
"Terri, you've been watching too many crime shows again,” Casey admonished. “What did he say to give you such a wild idea?"
"Several things."
"And those were?” Syd asked.
"Well. He kept saying things like, ‘she has to be handled with kid gloves, I need more time, this isn't easy,'” she said in a low, gruff voice. “And, he said if he wanted to get anything out of her, he had to go slow."
"Sounds to me like he's trying to score,” Casey said. She gave Sydnie a knowing look and smiled.
Sydnie brushed off her friend's silent suggestion. “Did you catch who he was talking to, Terri?"
"Let me think. He did say a name, but...” Terri's brow furrowed in deep thought.
"But what? What was it?!"
"Ohhh, I can't remember. It was something stuffy like Clive, Clarence, no wait! Charles, the name was Charles."
"Charles?!” Sydnie gasped. Suspicion hit her anew. There was only one Charles she knew that insisted he be called by his formal name. But what would Trevor be doing talking to him? Trevor had said he'd been fired from Smythe and Jones. “Did you catch a last name?"
"No, I didn't. But Trevor sounded really frustrated, almost desperate even."
Sydnie plunked down in her chair and steepled her fingers. So, she'd been right all along. Trevor was after something—what or why she wasn't exactly sure—but she'd bet the business Charles Smythe was behind it.
And last night? Last night was all a part of the scheme.
"Syd? What is it?” Casey asked. “You look like you've just been told you can never eat chocolate again."
"Ladies.” Syd stood and braced her hands on the desktop. “We've got a rat in our midst."
CHAPTER EIGHT
Trevor entered his office to find Mars already waiting for him. Charles Smythe was nowhere to be seen. Wonderful. Smythe was leaving Trevor to hang all on his own. That was Smythe for you. The snake.
Trevor took a deep breath, shoved aside his lack of sleep and put his best foot forward. The future of the Stardust Lingerie account hung on this moment.
"Morning, Alfred.” Trevor extended his hand. “Sorry to keep you waiting."
Mars unfolded his tall frame out of the posh, overstuffed leather chair and accepted the gesture. “Morning, Vanden Bosch.” He pushed back his blazer and placed a very large, very dangerous looking hand on his hip. Under the man's hard gaze, Trevor felt sort of like a toothpick which could easily be snapped in two.
"Where's Sydnie? She will be joining us, won't she?” The insistence in Mars's voice was loud and clear. Damn Smythe for forcing Trevor into this web of deceit. Smythe should have done the right thing in the very beginning and told Mars the truth—that Sydnie no longer worked here.
But no. Dishonesty was the best policy in Smythe's business world. And the worst part of it was, the weasel always left the smoothing things over work to his employees.
Trevor moved behind the desk, putting a sturdy barrier between him and Mars. Trevor was no weakling, but he was smart enough to keep his distance from the former wrestler who still took his weight training regime very seriously. “I'm sorry, Alfred. Sydnie is unable to be here this morning."
"Again?” Mars's eyes narrowed, his shoulders stiffened. “Is there a problem?"
"No problem. She just hasn't returned from her grandmother's yet."
"I see. Well, in spite of her absence, you do have some ideas for me to look at?” he asked with an impatient edge in his voice.
Trevor rounded up his grit and prepared to lie once more to the man who spent millions of dollars with Smythe and Jones on advertising. Telling him the truth was what Trevor wanted to do, but Smythe would have his job, his paycheck, and his head for coming clean.
Damn, he hated lying. It wasn't his style. But in the years since he started at the agency, it seemed as though he'd done more than his fair share, and as far as Trevor could see, he wasn't going to be able to stop telling tall-tales anytime soon.
He'd rehearsed his little concocted speech a dozen times on his way into the office this morning, but now that the moment was at hand, he could barely remember a single word of it. To say that Mars's stature was intimidating, was an understatement. They didn't call him the God of War in the wrestling world just because his last name was Mars.
"I'm sorry, Alfred. I'm afraid the layouts aren't quite ready."
"Why? What's the delay? Every day we aren't promoting the Venus Bra is one more day I'm losing money and losing ground to the competition. I hired you to put me together an advertising campaign, not excuses."
"I realize that, and I apologize for the delay. But ... with Sydnie away, we're running a little behind. Just give me a few more days, and I promise I'll have something for you.” Trevor suppressed a groan. He hated making promises he wasn't sure he could keep.
"I want to talk to Sydnie, see what she's thinking."
"That's not possible."
"Why not?"
"She can't be reached."
"I don't buy that. This is the twenty-first century, Vanden Bosch. Nobody can live without their cell phone or e-mail anymore. Those gadgets are like bread and water to a modern day society."
"True. But Sydnie asked that we not contact her."
"Why? What's going on? Are you hiding something?” Mars's eyes narrowed to slits and he leaned forward. “She didn't run off and get married, did she?"
"No. Of course not. Her grandmother has a very delicate condition. Syd didn't want to bring any distractions into her home.” Trevor hoped Mars was buying this load of crap because that's exactly what it sounded like to his own ears. Crap.
"Good. I'd hate to see my girl run off and marry somebody else."
My girl? Trevor bristled. Since when was Sydnie Mars's girl? Last night she'd responded to Trevor's touch as if she could never be anyone else's girl but his.
But what if Syd and Mars were involved and he'd failed to see it? He sure as hell hoped not, or his lingerie gift would blow the top of this charade, and his quest to win her heart, if he didn't move fast.
"I'm in communication with Sydnie every day,” Trevor said, hoping he sounded convincing, even though, for once he was telling the man the truth. “We've been bouncing ideas back forth via phone. By the way, when was the last time you talked to Syd, Alfred?"
"A couple months ago. We went out to dinner after we wrapped up the final touches on the launch of the Celestial line."
Trevor breathed a sigh of relief. Good. He was safe, at least for now. But if Mars tired of Trevor's excuses, he wouldn't hesitate to track Sydnie down and all hell would break loose. Even more reason to finish up this campaign as quickly as possible.
"What difference does it make to you?” Mars crossed his muscular arms and scowled. “You got a problem with me taking Sydnie out for dinner?"
"No. None at all,” Trevor covered quickly. In truth, Trevor had a really big problem with it. Syd didn't belong with a mogul like Mars, but he reined in his jealous streak. Who Sydnie chose to go out with was none of his concern. Not yet anyway.
"You two aren't...?” Mars asked as he gestured back and forth between him and Syd's imaginary presence.
Trevor longed to stake his claim, make it clear to Mars that Sydnie was off limits and that she belonged with him. But he had no right. No right at all.
"Dating amongst co-workers isn't allowed.” Chalk up another lie. Dating among fellow employees was not only allowed, the boss practiced the drill himself. Coming up with a good fabrication was becoming second nature for Trevor.
And he hated that part of what he'd become.
"Too, bad for you, Vanden Bosch.” Mars gave him a smug look that said, na, na, na na, na.
Trevor tamped down another surge of jealousy and anger. This was business. He needed
to stay in professional mode. “As soon as we have the ideas for the Venus Bra laid out, I'll give you a call.” He headed for the door, hoping Mars would take the hint and follow.
"I'm getting the feeling you're brushing me off here, Vanden Bosch."
Was it that obvious? Trevor put on a smile as he opened the door. “No, not at all. Sorry if it appears that way. My calender is booked tight today. I've got another appointment in a few minutes."
Mars sauntered toward him. “I'm flying out to Jackson Hole for the weekend for a little R & R. I'll be back in Omaha on Tuesday. I'll expect to see those layouts."
James, Sherry - [Studs For Hire 01] Page 9
