Lily shook her head at Joanie’s machine gun chatter and gave her friend a nervous laugh. It was way too early, or Lily hadn’t had enough coffee, or something… She had no idea how to answer any of Joanie’s questions. She hadn’t thought of Joanie at all until she was standing directly in front of her.
“Sounds like you’re in the know,” Lily said with a wan smile. Surely Marcus didn’t tell Clive the one thing he promised not to. The sex thing. She’d kill him.
“Well, I guess the humiliation of getting scared out of the house by raccoons is salved by the fact that Marcus split the trip with you.”
Split…the trip?
“I mean, I’m not going to lie.” Joanie lowered her voice and took Lily’s elbow. A minute later they were standing in Lily’s darkened office. “The two of you together on this trip might be kind of awkward. Maybe you can just drink a lot of piña coladas and forget he’s there.”
“Good plan,” Lily said, pretending she knew what was going on.
“Hawaii will be worth any discomfort. It’s the least he owes you after sort of cheating to get it and sort of cheating to keep it.” She laughed through the next words. “Clive told me about the mask, too. You should have kicked his ass!”
The mask. Raccoons. Clearly, Marcus had come in first thing this morning and worked some damage control. Lily did her best to play along.
“I should have,” she agreed, a smile stuck to her face.
“Joanie!” Clive called, coming around the corner. “Oh, hey, Lil. Nicely done on snagging half the trip.”
“Hi, Clive,” she said flatly.
“Baxter on line three,” he said to Joanie. “I have a conference call with Ed in two minutes. Can you take it?”
“Got it, babe,” Joanie said, as Clive broke into a run down the hall. “Maxine Baxter is opening a new consignment shop. Wish me luck?”
Lily, head still spinning with uncertainty, flashed her friend a smile. “Luck.”
Once Joanie walked away, Lily stood at the threshold of her office, blinking at her wall calendar. What just happened? She was five minutes late and this place was practically vibrating with energy. One thing was for sure—she needed to find out what Marcus had said to Clive…and what he hadn’t.
Marcus’s office was across the hall and down from hers. He was out of his chair, hovering over the drafting table, which meant he had hooked onto a really good idea. She’d seen him like that before. When he was working through something, he couldn’t stay in his seat.
Maybe she shouldn’t interrupt. Then again, how long could she play dumb? Since their offices were on one side of the building and Clive and Joanie’s on the other, she didn’t bother closing the door when she came in.
She tapped on the wall with her knuckles. “Hey.”
Marcus lifted his head and turned to face her, his eyes hazy like he was still lost in thought.
“I can come back,” she shot a thumb over her shoulder to point behind her. “Just wanted to return your mug.” She placed the travel mug on his desk, her excuse for coming in there. Whispering, she added, “Didn’t think I should bring your T-shirt into the office. It’s in my car.”
“Okay.” He nodded, his expression unreadable. Gosh. This is…weird.
“Come here.” Unlike the last time he’d said that to her—low and sexy, right before she punched a hole in the floor with her foot—his voice was gentle and inviting. She stepped deeper into his office, which was huge, with a desk on one side, a drafting table on the other, and a set of large file cabinets holding his drawings and current projects.
When she reached his side, he swiped bits of eraser off the wide sheet of paper on which he’d been drawing. “What do you think?”
“Main Street Salon,” she read. A complete redesign. And it was gorgeous. Rather than being an open floor plan, now each sink and chair had its own partition—like a private room. “I like it.”
“There will be a closet here for the customer to hang their coat and purse.”
“It’s great,” she said, meaning it. “I’d get my hair done there.”
“We all will. The owner offered us a deep discount.” She glanced up at him and he winked. “She’ll keep us pretty for years to come.”
That smile again. She bit down on her lip, trying not to feel anything she shouldn’t for him. But she couldn’t help remembering the stubble against her nipples, the way his tongue felt gliding along her ear, the way he was demanding and sexy in the most perfect way…in the most unlikely place.
Say my name.
She cleared her throat and stole a peek behind her. Surely, Joanie and Clive were still on their calls. She kept her voice down anyway. “I ran into Joanie. She said she knew all about Friday.”
He turned his back to the drafting desk, leaned against it, and crossed his thick arms. “Not all,” he said.
“Care to tell me what parts?”
“I didn’t tell him we…” His eyes flicked to the doorway then back to Lily. “You know.”
Hearing him avoiding saying what they did would have been funny if she hadn’t been so relieved. “Good.”
His eyebrows drew together slightly.
“I assume you didn’t tell them about the voices.” She pursed her lips, then added, “The one you recorded or the ones we can’t explain.”
“Neither.”
He turned back to his project. “It’s not like anyone would believe us if we told them the truth.”
The truth. About the voices, the footsteps… The other thing. The them thing.
“Raccoons seemed to be the easiest explanation,” he said, palms on his desk as he studied the drawing in front of him. “Clive spilled the beans to Joanie about accompanying me to the house.”
“And Joanie knew about the mask,” Lily added.
“Traitor,” he said. Then he flicked his eyes over at her and added a sheepish, “Sorry about that.”
“Well. It’s over now.”
Something in his eyes darkened. She’d meant the night at Willow Mansion was over, but somehow it came out sounding like she meant the thing between them. And because that’s where her head was, she wasn’t sure what Marcus meant when he said in a wholly serious tone, “We’ll see.”
They shared a moment of silence. All she could hear was the soft hum of the copier running in the adjacent room. He stood away from his desk and rolled a pencil between his hands. “As far as the Hawaii thing, I meant it. If you don’t mind sharing a trip with me, we’ll split it. You can go as my plus one.”
A long flight. A long vacation. A shared room. All with Marcus. She tried to make it sound bad in her head, but it didn’t. It sounded fantastic.
“If you’re not comfortable with that compromise,” he said, “let me know and I’ll find someone else to go with.”
Jealousy spiked, sharp and angry. “Who?” she asked, the word coming out as barbed as the emotion pricking her.
He grinned, letting her know he’d set her up a little. “My brother would like to see the island.”
Dammit. She needed to chill out. And make up her mind. Either they were doing the them thing or they weren’t. Hawaii definitely sounded like a them thing.
“McIntire.”
She tilted her chin to look up at him. His eyebrows were arched, the stubble around his mouth a tempting sight.
“Was just thinking on my feet,” he said gently. “I wasn’t trying to corner you.”
“Yeah, no. Yes. It’s… It totally makes sense. It’s fine. And Hawaii is…fine.”
A hint of his smile returned, like he was amused at her stammering. “Hawaii is fine.”
“Totally fine.” Her brittle smile broke at the edges and she backed away from him. “Well…”
“Well.” He crossed his arms again, watching her closely.
Her forehead beaded with perspiration. Without saying another word, she turned and scuttled for her office across the hall. When she got there, she shut the door. She never shut the door, but right now,
she needed to shut the door.
“Well,” she said to herself as she plunked into her chair.
That was really all there was to say.
…
Marcus watched Lily’s backside wiggle across the hall and into her office. Then he watched her shut her door and tried to remember the last time he looked across the hall and saw a panel instead of Lily’s frown of concentration while she sat at her desk.
Never.
That, as they say, was that. He’d suspected she’d show up this morning and ignore him. Get right to work. If either of them was the consummate professional, it was Lily. In this case, he was glad to be wrong. Maybe her being willing to go to Hawaii with him meant she’d reconsidered about them.
Maybe not.
Women were hard.
He faced his drawing again, deciding distraction was the best medicine. He was pretty satisfied with what he’d come up with for the salon. Of course, he’d spent the remainder of the day Saturday and all of Sunday working on it, seeing how he didn’t have a feisty, sexy redhead in his bed begging for sexual favors.
Shame.
The bright side to knuckling down all weekend, and coming in bright and early at five a.m. today was that he’d made a hell of a lot of progress. Nothing like pent-up frustration to fuel hours upon hours upon hours of work.
He should respect Lily for wanting to move forward and forget, and part of him did. The other part of him wanted to see what might come next. He’d never been so curious or intrigued by the next stage with a woman before. Even when he’d lived with Annie, the move-in had been a technicality. His lease was up, and her invitation was “You may as well.”
With Lily, one night wasn’t going to be enough to satisfy his curiosity—in bed or out. He wanted to explore whatever this was. Preferably before the RSD dinner. Them showing up with plus ones other than each other at this point would be…
Screw it. If it came to that, he’d go solo. He wasn’t going to bring a nameless chick to the dinner and flaunt her in Lily’s face. And he hoped she wouldn’t call one of her exes just to avoid showing up alone.
So all he had to do was…he didn’t know what. Killing every other guy she’d ever dated seemed extreme. Maybe he could tell her she had to be his date since she was getting half of Hawaii. He frowned. He wanted her to want to go with him. Why the hell did he want that? Getting her to comply wasn’t enough. He wanted Lily willing. Ready and willing, he thought with a lift of his brows.
“Nice.”
Marcus spun to find Clive stepping into his office, and he rerouted his thoughts away from Lily.
“Seriously,” his friend said, approaching the drafting table. “Nice work.”
Proudly, Marcus studied his drawings. “Thanks.”
“I thought these weren’t due until the fifth.”
“They aren’t. I had some time this weekend.”
Clive grunted. “Didn’t go like you wanted it to, I guess.”
But it had. And it hadn’t. Clive didn’t wait for an answer, and Marcus was grateful.
“So, before the Retail Design Dinner, Joanie would like to have you and Lily over to the house to celebrate Reginald London Superstores account.”
“Didn’t we do that at the Shot Spot?” The night he’d gotten to see Lily in a way he’d never seen her before. The night he’d made the bet that finally got her naked and underneath him.
“The Shot Spot, Joanie says, is not a proper celebration place.”
Marcus figured she had a point. “Flat beer and stale pretzels, pool and a jukebox playing seventies country hits aren’t her idea of a good time?”
Clive laughed. “Yeah. No. She is taking some French pastry class and wants to do dessert and champagne and set up the tables like some sort of patisserie.” He shook his head and plunged his hands into his pockets. “I don’t know. Anyway, you have to come.”
“I do not.” An intimate evening spent with Lily in front of the friends they weren’t supposed to tell about their being together? Sounded like a disaster waiting to happen.
Marcus gestured at the drawings in front of him. “I’m pretty busy with this design.”
“You’re two weeks ahead of schedule.”
“Then there’s the speech,” Marcus hedged. Not that he had to write it. It was written and rewritten. He’d cut it down, added to it, and finally arrived at something he thought he could get through without throwing up. That was the only goal at this point.
“Hey, you can’t work all the time,” Clive said, ignoring Marcus’s excuses. “Sorry, buddy, not letting you back out of this one. “Friday night, seven.”
“What if I have a date?” Marcus said in a last ditch effort to extricate himself.
“Lily’s already invited.” Clive grinned, a knowing look in his eyes.
Shit. His friend may not know what exactly happened at Willow mansion, but he knew too much already.
…
“There’s no way. I’m…I’m so behind here,” Lily threw her hands in the direction of her desk, which was covered with exactly three sheets of paper.
“Yeah,” Joanie said, disbelief lining her voice. “You look buried.” She folded her hands in front of her. “Please? I’m making croissants.”
“I’m on a low-carb diet?” Lily offered, biting her lip.
Joanie sat in the chair across from Lily’s desk. “The truth is,” she whispered, “I’m inviting Reginald, too.”
“Reginald London?” Just saying his name made her spine straighten.
Joanie nodded. “And his wife, Felicia. But don’t tell Clive. I don’t want him to be nervous.”
“Why Marcus…I mean, why us? Why do we need to be there?” Just asking “why” made her sound as uncomfortable as she felt. Normally, she’d do whatever her friend asked.
“I need buffers! Those two are intimidating. Besides, you were the designers who won this account. I want to show you off.” Joanie grinned.
Sweet, non-judgmental, clueless Joanie. How would Lily continue lying to her best friend? And who would she talk to about her confusing feelings if she couldn’t confide in Joanie? And she couldn’t. Joanie knew what happened with Emmett at Lily’s former workplace. Surely, she’d have some advice to give. And she didn’t think it’d be encouraging advice. Joanie was sweet and fun, but she was also smart and savvy. She owned this business, and her little firm had busted through a glass ceiling when Marcus won designer of the year. Lily wouldn’t risk her own reputation, but she also wouldn’t risk the reputation of her best friend’s business. Not when she and Clive had worked so hard.
“Please? Just a few hours of munching on pastries and sipping champagne.”
Lily sighed in defeat. “Can I bring anything?”
Joanie bounced up from the chair with a huge smile on her face. “Nope. Just yourself. Seven o’clock Friday, but if you want to show early you can watch me plate the food.”
“Okay.” Surely she and Marcus could coexist at a simple cocktail party.
“You’re a doll!” Joanie blew her air kisses and exited the office.
Lily sagged in her chair and tried to think about what she’d wear. Marcus would prefer a short dress, and no panties. Which meant she should probably wear her stiff pantsuit and chunky jewelry.
An email notification slid onto the corner of her computer screen. Normally, she would have checked it later, but she could have sworn the name that popped up had said…
A few quick clicks had her stomach sinking like a stone surrounded by concrete.
Emmett Webster.
The very man who had claimed she’d stolen his design to get ahead. The man who wooed her and promised no one would find out about the office fling, then advertised it after knowing their sexist pig of a boss would take Emmett’s word over hers.
The loss of the job had been upsetting to say the least, but the loss of her hard work and reputation, having to rebuild completely, had been devastating.
And now, two years later, out of the blu
e, he was emailing her?
Don’t open it.
But she would. Of course she would.
“Hey Lily of the Valley!” the email started. Lily because of her name, Valley because of her cleavage. Stupidest nickname ever, and he thought he was being just so clever. He did it to irritate her. Mission accomplished. Everything about him irritated her. She steeled herself and read the rest.
Hey Lily of the Valley!
I heard through the grapevine, namely Reginald London who I now work for, that you were over at Cameron Designs. You’re probably stoked to be in a small office with friends without the pressure you were under before.
The dig didn’t escape her attention—his way of saying she couldn’t make it in a big corporate office. The bastard. And why would London hire him? Did she owe the universe a major debt or something?
Anyway, just wanted to drop you a line and let you know I’d see you at the RSD dinner this year. I skipped the last two, just wasn’t into it.
Why this year, then? Just to ruin her life?
I’ve been asked to present the designer of the year award and wanted to give you a heads up since it’s a guy from your office. Marcus Black. He’s damned impressive. The design for London’s store is fantastic and we can’t stop talking about him over here. Just remember not to wear anything too revealing to the dinner. You don’t want everyone to assume you have more boobs than brains! LOL.
See you, babe.
Emmett
Lily didn’t know what to be more offended by: the “more boobs than brains” thing or the “babe” thing. The insult was something she’d heard often from him when they dated. The fact that he’d gone out of his way to bring it up now proved his habit of marginalizing her—controlling her—was alive and well.
Marcus had added the short-skirt-no-panties thing into the bet for the RSD dinner, and she’d shrugged it off as boys being boys. But weighed against Emmett’s shit-for-brains email, Marcus’s dare sort of proved that he respected her at work. He didn’t worry someone would get the wrong impression just because she dressed sexy. He knew she had brains and boobs and respected both parts of her. She knew because at Willow Mansion he’d told her just how big a part she’d played in landing the London account. She didn’t think he was just saying that, no more than she was when she told him he was the best in the business. That was a rare revealing moment between them…followed by an even more revealing moment.
If You Dare Page 11
