Friends To Lovers (Aisle Bound Book 3)

by Christi Barth

  Tabitha shushed him with a single finger against his lips. Wow, this woman put touchy-feely in the dictionary. And everywhere she touched, she left behind almost a tingly shadow of sensation. Then she stood. Circled around him once, then back again. “Separating you from your hoodie isn’t like cutting off Samson’s hair. It’s more like putting a gilt frame around an original Michelangelo. Trust me, spiffing you up a little to attract a woman won’t diminish your ability to create good video games.”

  “Look, I don’t need you to help me attract women.” Because that was as unlikely as suddenly acquiring a superpower, say, teleportation. “I just want to learn how to deal with them.” Time to snatch back the reins of this conversation. “My new boss is a woman. So far we’re about as compatible as two protons.”

  A throaty laugh rolled out of her. “Sorry, it’s been a long time since I took a science class. Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”

  Nice that Tabitha asked the question, instead of just nodding and pretending to get his joke. “Protons naturally repel each other, so it’s a very bad thing. Keiko’s as corporate as they come. Raised in Japan, got her MBA at Harvard Business School, and then made a name for herself transitioning companies successfully through expansions.” Drew could recite the details by rote. The woman had found an excuse to repeat the details to him every day so far.

  Her background was probably why Drew didn’t like her from the get-go. Keiko didn’t live and breathe gaming like most of the staff at Game Domain. In fact, she looked down her nose at gamers, and didn’t bother to hide her derision, except around clients.

  “I’m confused,” said Tabitha. She tapped one long, slender finger against her cheek. “Why’d you accept the job if you knew you didn’t get along with your boss?”

  “I never met her until this week. As part of this expansion, Randall Lewis, the president of the company, ‘courted’ me.” He made air quotes with his fingers, still embarrassed by the recollection of all the un-asked-for attention. “It was kind of a big deal when he signed me. Different companies had been trying to lock me down for months.”

  They’d all offered stupid perks on top of the base salary, like a once-a-week massage, or someone to drop off his dry cleaning. As if he needed to dry clean any of his clothes. All Drew really wanted was to work with imaginative people who loved coding and gaming and fantasy as much as he did.

  “So they sucked you in, and then stuck you under Keiko. Sounds like a bait and switch, if you ask me.” She patted his arm. “You must’ve been irritated.”

  The compassion in her eyes was both a surprise and a relief. Drew knew enough about office politics and hierarchies that he couldn’t complain to his team about Keiko. And he certainly couldn’t bitch to any of his gaming buddies about his amazing-on-paper new job. So after four days of wondering to himself if he’d made a gigantic mistake, it was nice to have someone on his side. Especially someone who inexplicably kept touching him. Not that Drew was complaining. “Yeah.”

  To Keiko, every decision came down to the bottom line, and ROI, and a bunch of other acronyms she constantly spewed at him. Not once did she consider what would be best for the development of his game. Keiko had been hired just a few weeks before him to grow the company. Probably the only thing she and Drew had in common. Unless he discovered that Keiko also bore a deep and abiding love for chili cheese hamburgers with guacamole.

  Tabitha pushed back her stool and stood, tossing her hair behind her shoulders. “You don’t need a matchmaker to fix a rocky relationship with a supervisor. About all I can do is point you to the nearest bar and wish you luck.”

  So much for sympathy. But he did appreciate her candor. It made it easier for him to spill the rest. “The problem’s not just with my boss,” Drew admitted.

  “I’m intrigued. By the story,” she sank back down with a slow and sultry smile, “and by a man sure enough of himself to be able to admit his weakness.”

  Okay. Then she’d freaking love him after he dropped this bombshell. Drew fisted his hands on the table and looked her dead in the eyes. “Today I apparently cost my company a huge potential investor. Seven million dollars worth.”

  “Apparently?” Her eyebrows winged upwards like flames licking up to the sky.

  “The seven million is a fact. As to why it got withdrawn, well, I’m told—in no uncertain terms—that I insulted the fifth richest woman in Chicago.”

  “Really?” Tabitha didn’t look the least bit put off. She leaned forward, eyes sparkling. “That’s quite an accomplishment. Do tell.”

  “The corporate execs upstairs buzzed for me this morning. They were meeting with Fran Lehman and her entire entourage.” Two lawyers, an assistant, a financial advisor and her second in command. Drew didn’t understand why it took six people to sign papers that they’d obviously already examined under a microscope. “They’ve been courting her for months as a shadow investor, to fund a large expansion we’ve got in the works.”

  “I’ve read stories about Fran. She can be…” Tabitha pursed her lips, as if searching for something other the words Drew used to describe her—a rich, bored nutcase. “…oddly demanding,” she finished politely.

  “Well, one of her odd demands was about me. Apparently Fran’s a fan. So her last amendment to the contract was that she meet me, and be written into my next game.”

  “Oh, I don’t like where this is going,” murmured Tabitha.

  “No, you’ll love hearing about the new game. Quest to the Gods.” It was the sole reason Drew put up with Keiko’s endless sniping about cost trumping his artistic vision. He’d grit his teeth through anything, as long as he could go in every morning and check the progress his team had made on Quest. The idea for it had lapped around in his brain for years, like a frog stuck in a swimming pool. But it had always been too big, too epic for Drew to tackle by himself.

  “Dark fantasy. You can choose to go the role-playing route, or stick with straight war craft. It’ll have something for everyone.”

  She bit her lip and shook her finger at him. “Don’t get me excited for something that won’t hit stores until…when exactly?”

  “Hopefully in time for Christmas. I’m telling you, everyone will like this game. Gentle exploration or blood-and-guts soaked violence. It’s brilliant. Little kids to old codgers will all clamor for it.”

  Tabitha laid a hand back on his arm. “Why don’t you finish explaining how you cost your company seven million dollars, and then you can tell me all about your new game later?”

  Later? There was going to be a later? Like, going out for drinks later? Could it be that she really was flirting with him? Playing it cool, he nodded. And noticed that she left her fingers on his forearm this time. The soft, warm pressure reminded Drew that he hadn’t had sex in ninety-four days. Exactly.

  “Fran asked me to make her into a character in Quest. I took a minute to size her up—kind of like you did with me,” he remarked with a nod to Tabitha. “Then I stated that given her age and figure, I could either make her a pregnant troll or an aging dragon.”

  Her hand lifted off his arm to cover her mouth. But it didn’t come close to hiding the snort laugh that escaped. “Well. Aren’t you just as smooth as a prickly pear cactus?”

  “She walked out,” he said with an up and down jerk of his shoulder. “Left the papers on the conference table, unsigned, and walked out.” The sickening swirl in Drew’s gut as Fran walked away without handing over the promised check—the one that would underwrite the creation, launch and marketing blitz of Quest in its entirety—told him he’d screwed up. But in case there was any doubt, Keiko had proceeded to ream him a new one for twenty minutes straight.

  “Did you insult her on purpose?”

  “Of course not. It was just nerves. The whole reason I joined Game Domain was to get Quest made. The scope’s too big for me to do on my own, unless I dropped everything for three years. This is the game I’ve been dreaming of creating for years. Do you see why I need your help?
”

  “Not entirely, no.” Those long, peach nails fluttered over Tabitha’s heart. Conveniently located right behind the perfection of her creamy cleavage. Drew’s eyes kept dragging back to that deep, perfect vee of smooth skin as if he was stuck in an infinite loop. “I’m a matchmaker, not an etiquette teacher.”

  “I think I need to learn how to interact with women better. Or prove I tried to, anyway.” There. Drew threw out the only explanation he’d come up with as he stared blindly out the windows of the El. “Keiko went to Human Resources as soon as she finished my orientation. I don’t know—some concerns about my lack of a verbal filter. Awkwardness around women in general, she said.” Didn’t they all realize he was the walking definition of a computer geek? Awkwardness around women pretty much came with the package. “She made it quite clear that behavior won’t cut it in today’s business world.”

  “True.” Another stroke down his arm, with a slow, teasing grin. “But you’re talking to me just fine.”

  Drew couldn’t explain it. Something about her made him comfortable. Yet the off-the-charts sexual attraction kept him off-balance at the same time. “Let’s call you an anomaly.”

  She crossed her legs to the side of the table, momentarily distracting him with their length and shapeliness. “So what if you need a little spit polish? You’re handsome. I can tell that you’re passionate and smart. I can’t see why you wouldn’t get along with women. I mean, geez, you’ve got great hands. Big. Strong.” Her voice tapered off as she stared down at his hands, interlaced on top of the table.

  Drew had no idea what his hands had to do with anything. “We’re scheduled to visit New York in a few weeks for a media blitz. I’m stuck doing a ton of interviews. And I can’t blow it. Not again.” He considered New York to be a final exam to prove to Keiko he’d work out at Game Domain. It wasn’t a concrete thing to study for, like memorizing the periodic table or diagramming a Newtonian equation. But Drew had never met a test he didn’t ace. “I need to something tangible to show HR and Keiko that I’ve made an effort to turn around my behavior. Hiring you will prove that, and get them off my back. I’ll pay your standard matchmaking fee.”

  Clearing her throat, Tabitha snapped her green eyes back up to him. “This isn’t what I do. I wouldn’t even know where to start.”

  “If you match up men and women, that must mean that you understand them. It’s gotta be the same basic principles at work.” Crap. Keiko had threatened to take away control of his game if he didn’t “iron out his rough edges.” Drew didn’t have a single other idea of how to do it. Desperation pushed him forward, leaning halfway across the table. “I won’t get my signing bonus for thirty days,” he said slowly. “You know, to keep people from taking a job, taking the chunk of cash and bolting. But once it comes through, I could give you a bonus on top of your fee.”

  Shit. Drew needed that money. It was the other reason why he’d given up the peace and quiet of working for himself. But losing control of Quest wasn’t an option. Not after years of planning for it, and dreaming about it. He was the only one who could bring it to reality.

  At first, she didn’t say anything. The pause lengthened into a silent chasm. “It would need to be a considerable bonus,” she said slowly.

  Huh? What happened to the compliments and the almost flirting? Did Tabitha really look at him and see a man that she basically needed to be bribed into dealing with? Sure, he knew she was way out of his league. But it’s not like he was trying to get a date with the hot redhead. Her request for a considerable bonus burned. Like fire ants burrowing into his psyche.

  “How about you work with me for two days, assess if you can get me the results I need by New York, and then we’ll negotiate the bonus?” Drew could be savvy. Real life wasn’t so different than the games he lived and breathed. He’d negotiated his way through plenty of trade disputes in virtual realms. After haggling with a three-headed dragon and a cranky Vengeance dwarf, Tabitha was almost easy.

  She gave him a knowing smile and walked through a small door at the far end of the room. Moments later she was back. Tabitha tossed a lined pad and pen onto the table in front of him. “Lesson number one—” then she paused until he dutifully picked up the pen, “—it often pays for someone who is willing to go to great lengths to get what they want.”

  It took him a second to wade through the fortune cookie-ness of her statement. Then it all made sense. And relief washed over him. “That’s why you held me up for more money. Not because you think I’m pathetic loser. Just to see if I truly want to change?”

  “Yep. See how well that worked? And don’t let me ever hear you call yourself a pathetic loser again. People are like snowflakes. Each beautiful in their own, individual way. All we have to do is reveal your inner snowflake.”

  “Uh huh.” Just when he’d started to think this process might not be painful, she’d gone all woo-woo on him. Drew rasped a hand across a couple of days worth of stubble. “I’ll be blunt with you, Tabitha.”

  “That doesn’t shock me a bit,” she said with a toss of her autumn-colored hair. The individual strands ranged from brown to cherry to bright red. Her hair absolutely fascinated him. Drew had to blink to stop staring at it.

  “I’m not going to do well at channeling my inner snowflake.”

  “Of course not. Finding it is my job.”

  Good. A job had expectations, finite results. Drew could handle that. “So what do I have to do?”

  “Hmm.” Tabitha leaned forward, crossing her arms. The position pushed her breasts together, straining against her top. She held it for a moment, then leaned back with another one of those laughs that made her sound naked. Maybe even naked and on satin sheets. “Well, we know you’re attracted to women.”

  Crap. He hadn’t meant to stare. Drew flicked his eyes up to meet her laughing green gaze. “Sorry.”

  “Don’t be. It was my fault. I didn’t think.” She tugged her shirt a little higher, though. “Do you get the chance to interact with women a lot?

  Drew rolled his eyes. “No. I went to an all boys prep school. Then I went to MIT. Finished up my degree, and then took a few years to train for the U.S. track team.”

  “Get out. You were in the Summer Games?”

  “Yeah.”

  She plopped her elbows on the table to put her face right next to his. “Do you have a medal?”

  Drew was all about precision. “Two, actually.” The scent of grapefruit and flowers mixed together hung around her like an aromatic necklace. One he wanted to twine around his hands and rip off. Then bury his face in the hollow of her throat….crap. He’d need to run an extra mile or two tonight to work the lust she’d ramped up out of his system.

  Tabitha straightened up. “Are you comfortable talking to me?”

  “Sure. I guess.” As long as he ignored the discomfort where his dick pressed hard against the seam of his pants.

  She took his hand and pulled him out of his seat, towards the stairs. “I think we just need to expose you to more women. Get you out of your head. I’ll work up a plan and call you tomorrow.”

  “That’s it? No homework or anything? Not sure I’m getting my money’s worth out of you,” he joked.

  “I get the feeling part of what puts people off about you is the immediacy of your speaking. Lesson number two: don’t say every last thought that crosses your mind out loud.”

  Drew tightened his grip on her hand. Looked down at her. Really looked, deep into those pools of her eyes like a plasma ball. He shuffled a step closer, til he could breathe in her perfume once more. Til he caged her against the wall with his arms. Until he was close enough to feel her chest brush against his with every breath. “Trust me, I don’t.”

  She licked her lips. Breathed more than a little harder, a little faster. “Duly noted.”

  Dropping his arms, he stepped back. Proximity was eight kinds of dangerous. Drew had a new job—and had already pissed off his boss. No time for sexy distractions. Especially not with
a woman who had access to any man who walked in the door of her dating service. She had her pick. Which meant Tabitha would certainly never pick him. Nobody picked the geeky programmers, except fellow geeks.

  “Olympic medals and a sexy sense of humor. See, your special snowflake qualities are shining through already.”

  Right. Then how come with every passing second he spent with Tabitha, Drew felt like he was burning up?