A Man Worth Shaving For
By Michelle Pennington
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Copyright © 2020 by Michelle Pennington
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, write to the publisher, addressed “Attention: Permissions Coordinator,” at the address below.
Michelle Pennington
P.O. Box 54
Hartford, AR 72764
Publisher’s note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locals is completely coincidental.
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Chapter One
The only benefit to working late into the afternoon on a Friday was how empty the office got. My boss, Melinda Braswell, ran Booms and Nibbles with a casual, almost lax hand. As Human Resources Director for the company, I spent way too much time dealing with people, so I enjoyed the quiet hours at the end of the day in the waning February light when the office grew quiet. Unlike the rest of the day, I could work without being interrupted.
Which was why it startled me when someone knocked on my door. I looked over my shoulder to the glass wall that formed my office and saw the small, heart-shaped face and sleek dark hair of Angela Donnelly, our brand manager and one of my only friends at work. For a woman who usually strode around accompanied by the sharp click of her stiletto heels, she looked oddly…subdued.
“What are you doing here so late?” I asked,
“I waited to come talk to you until everyone else was gone. I knew you’d still be here.”
I smiled and nodded. “What’s going on?”
“Cindy didn’t come in today.” She apparently thought this was a highly sensitive piece of information because she said it almost in a whisper. If I wasn’t already well aware of the situation, I might not have understood her.
More than anything, I wanted to make us some coffee and settle in for a dish session, but, sadly, that would have been unprofessional. In my position, I had to be above gossip and maintain a high level of confidentiality. Times like this made that hard. “Maybe she’s sick. I haven’t heard.”
Angela shook her head. “No. She would have called in and asked Bree to rearrange all her meetings. And remember how she came to work with pneumonia that one time? She about coughed out her guts for a week but never missed a day.”
“Personal business then.”
Angela stepped closer. “You know? She and Melinda got in a fight again, and I think it was the last straw. Cindy wanted us to add some erotic lingerie to the spring collection, and Melinda wouldn’t have it. I had to leave a meeting with them last week because the two of them were going at it like dogs over a bone. It’s like Cindy forgot who owns the place.”
I sighed, not at all surprised. Melinda’s whole purpose in starting her company was to provide attractive underwear and swimwear for women of all body types. She had an elegant but playful sense of style. Our CEO Cindy, on the other hand, was very much of the notion that we’d only grow as a company if our product line got skimpier and sexier. She’d brought in designers and marketing specialists to shift the whole company’s direction that way, but a few weeks ago, Melinda had come back from her long European vacation and nipped it in the bud. Ruthlessly. The designers were gone. The marketing specialists were gone. And now—if I wasn’t mistaken—Cindy was likely either gone too or on her way out.
Honestly, I was so proud of Melinda for finally being willing to let people go who weren’t working out, but the aftershocks had made everyone in the office nervous. Including me.
Somehow, I needed to reassure Angela. “Well, whatever is going on, we’ll all know soon enough, and I’m perfectly happy to find out on Monday.” I looked over at the clock, realizing that I wouldn’t get much more done today.
“What are you doing this weekend?” Angela asked as I turned back to my computer screen.
“Nothing. A big, fat, glorious, soul-saving nothing until Monday.”
She quirked an eyebrow at me. “Maybe if you wouldn’t kill yourself during the week, you’d have some energy to play on the weekends. My offer to set you up with someone still stands.”
“No thanks. I get enough of that from my roommate. Blind dates are always such a disaster. Why does anyone think they’re a good idea?”
Angela laughed. “For one thing, you’re never going to meet a man at work with an all-female staff. Or hiding out in your apartment for that matter. But whatever. Can you at least do some product testing for me over the weekend?”
I glared at the box she dropped on my desk. Well, on a stack of papers on my desk, because my messy habits carried over to work more than they should have. “I swear if there’s another stick-on bra in there…”
“But look…this one is supposed to be really strong. Melinda really wants to get some in our catalogue. These work great for me. I can’t even tell I’m wearing them, they stay sticky, and they come off easily with just a little oil.”
“But now you need someone to give them a real challenge.”
She waved manicured nails toward her small chest. “My A cups aren’t going to test its lifting power.”
If it wasn’t for the fact that I hadn’t had to buy underwear of any kind since starting at Booms and Nibbles, I would have given her a hard no. But I could watch movies and binge on junk food just as easily wearing stick-ons as not. “I don’t understand why women willingly put themselves through that kind of torture.”
“To look fabulous and perky in sexy clothes. Not that you’ll ever need them, since you wear nothing but jeans and T-shirts, even to work.”
I plucked at my shirt and scowled at her. “This is not a T-shirt. It has cute ruffled sleeves. Did you just scoff at me?”
“Who wouldn’t? If it’s made of knit, it’s a T-shirt. You take our casual dress policy way too far. Why don’t you at least wear a skirt sometimes?”
“Cuz I’d have to shave my legs.”
“Tell me you aren’t serious.”
Angela’s horrified expression made me laugh. I didn’t answer so she’d believe I was joking, but it was totally true—I hadn’t shaved my legs since Monday morning. I was a low-maintenance girl by any measure, but I’d somehow been lucky en
ough to land a job with my ideal company—one that supported positive body image for women and allowed me to be myself.
That was the reason I worked so hard here. The company might be struggling, but if there was anything I could do to help it thrive again, I’d do it. So with that in mind, I gave in and nodded at Angela. “I’ll let you know if I like them on Monday, but I’m not sure they’ll get much of a test while I watch Netflix.”
“Just get up and do some jumping jacks or something. I really appreciate it. And if you hear anything on the Cindy-drama, give me a heads-up before I come in Monday.”
“You know I can’t.”
She shrugged and strolled away. “Doesn’t hurt to ask.”
I chuckled and turned back to my work, determined to go home and get my ideal weekend rolling. After finishing up the report Melinda had requested on the salary budget, I scheduled the next training sessions for a couple of new, low-level employees and cleaned out my email. At six o’clock on the dot, I shut down my computer, leaned back and stretched my cramping muscles before packing up.
That’s when my eyes landed on the evil package Angela had dumped on me. I could leave it and pretend I’d forgotten, but she’d just make me wear them at work. The thought was too hideous to be considered, so I tucked the box into my bag with my laptop and picked up the file I needed to leave on Janice’s desk before I left. Her office was down at the end of the executive hallway. The janitor stood outside it, busy cleaning the glass. In general, I loved the modern design of our office with its sleek furniture, tall ceilings, and abundance of natural light, but I did always feel bad that Hector had to clean it all.
“Going home, Tessa?” he asked, smiling at me as I passed.
“Yep. And it’s about time too.” I went into the office and dropped the file on the desk as I chatted. “Now that everyone is gone, you can blast your music.”
He laughed and nodded his head at Melinda’s office across the hallway. “Not quite yet. The boss lady has someone in there with her.”
“What?” I paused next to him, following the direction of his eyes. Sure enough, there was a man in a suit sitting at Melinda’s table. He was so tall that I could only catch a glimpse of her behind her desk—especially since he had a rather delicious set of shoulders. “Who is that?” I asked myself in a soft murmur. Of course, Hector thought I was asking him.
“I don’t know, but they shook hands when he got here like they’d never met before.”
“Strange. Janice handles all the customer accounts now.” Melinda didn’t even come into the office more than once or twice a week, so something had to be going on. And the only men who worked at Booms and Nibbles besides Hector were John, our tech guy, and Greg, our security guard. And neither of them wore suits or could fill it out like this guy did. “He must have passed my office when I had my head down working, because I didn’t see him come in.”
Feeling every bit as nosy as Angela, I was tempted to go work in my office again until he left so I could get a better look at him—just out of professional curiosity. But if Melinda was holding a meeting when she knew the office would be empty, she probably had a good reason for it. She wouldn’t appreciate being spied on.
Still, I couldn’t resist another glance at the man. Just then, he turned just slightly, showing part of his profile—enough to hint at a handsome face, but not enough for me to know what he looked like.
I sighed in frustration. “Well, we’ll probably find out who he is on Monday. Have a good weekend, Hector.”
“You too,” he said, his voice following me down the hall as I left.
As I got on the elevator, I focused on shutting down my brain. I didn’t want to think about anything work related. Not about Cindy, not about our company’s financial struggles, and certainly not about the man who was currently upstairs in conference with the owner of the company.
Chapter Two
I only had a short drive to my swanky new apartment in a modern complex that catered to young professionals near downtown Spring View, a growing suburb of Dallas. The whole building had been converted from a turn-of-the-century printing company—a perfect combination of history with rough edges and luxurious, sleek styling. I made a great salary, but even so, I could only justify the extortionate rent because I shared it with my best friend. We’d been roommates in college, so it was the perfect arrangement.
Especially since she was a clean freak. Without her, I would have been living in a pigsty.
“Hey, Madi? Are you home?” I called as I set my bag down on the dining table and headed for my room. If there was one thing that could ruin my night, it was her hogging the television with one of her Korean dramas. I was not in the mood for subtitles or overzealous eye-gazing.
“Back here,” she called. “What’s up?”
I took my shoes off and walked toward my room, passing our shared bathroom on the way. The door was open, so I had a clear shot of Madi wrapped in a short pink robe, balancing with one foot on our fluffy black bath mat with the other in the sink while she shaved her leg.
Propping myself against the door jamb, I watched as she navigated the tricky area under her knee. “I was going to ask what your plans are for the night, but clearly, you’re going out.”
She turned and grinned at me. “I met a hot guy at a restaurant today. He paid for his lunch with an American Express black card, soooo…”
No further explanation was needed. I loved Madi like a sister, but I’d never understand her bad judgment when it came to men. Her priorities were all screwed up. Still, she was a grown woman and I’d learned a long time ago not to mother her. If she got her heart broken, I’d be there to help pick up the pieces.
“I get the point. Have fun. I’m about to dive headfirst into some Blast-O-Butter popcorn and a Matt Damon movie. I need some good explosions and car chases in my life.”
But as I headed for my room, Madi ran after me. “Tessa, wait. I didn’t tell you yet. He has a buddy.”
I froze. One of my shoes fell from my limp fingers to the floor with a soft thud. When I turned around, Madi stared back at me with soft, pleading eyes and shaving cream running down her streaky legs and all over the carpet. “No. Way,” I said, injecting as much firmness into my tone as I could. Madi was way too persuasive.
“Come on,” she begged. “I already told him you’d go.”
Continuing to my room, I tossed my shoes in the general direction of my closet and flopped down onto my bed. “That’s your problem.”
Madi plopped down next to me, far from ready to give up. “The guy is new in town and doesn’t know anyone. And we’re going to that new fancy restaurant, the Loft.”
I stared up at Madi, her flawless face framed by the blue towel she’d wrapped around her hair. The color made her sapphire eyes pop even more than usual. “And what exactly did you tell him about me?”
“That you were beautiful and smart and successful and—”
My hand in her face finally shut her up. I didn’t know if she really said all that or was just trying to sweeten me up. It didn’t matter. “Uh huh. And did you mention that I’m not a size four like you are? Because if you don’t remember the last date you set me up on, I do.”
Madi frowned. “That guy was an idiot.”
“Well, that’s probably the only thing we’re going to agree on tonight. Look, when guys hear you have a friend, they assume I’m going to look like you, and then they’re always disappointed. Even if they don’t say something stupid like I have ‘more to hold on to’ in a determined voice, it’s obvious what they’re thinking.”
“Oh, stop it, Tessa. I know tons of guys who think you’re hot. Because you totally are.”
I sat up and yanked her towel off her head as I went to grab a hair tie off my dresser. “Of course I am. But most guys are dumb—yes, even your rich guy dinner date and his friend. So, no thanks.”
With my hair up in a messy bun, I pulled off my shirt, frowning again as I remembered Angela teasing me about it. W
ith my back to Madi, I stripped off my bra and pulled on the biggest, baggiest T-shirt I owned, then switched my jeans for a comfy pair of leggings with holes in some of the seams and threadbare fabric where my thighs rubbed together. They should last one more weekend.
When I turned back around, Madi was still on my bed, finger-combing her wet hair. “Please?” she asked. “I totally get your point, and I swear I won’t do this again. But if you don’t come, Taylor might cancel on me, and I would die.”
“Sorry. I already took off my bra, and that’s final. For a date like that, I’d have to shave too. And put on new makeup and curl my hair and wear a body shaper. Considering the way I feel right now, there is no guy on the planet worth that much trouble. Unless there’s a clone of Chris Hemsworth running around single somewhere.”
“I’ll give you first shower dibs every day for a month.”
I stared at her. “Wow. You must really, really want this.”
“You have no idea. Come on. You can get an excellent meal, smile your pretty smile at some guy you’ll never have to see again, and still make it home in time to blast butter on your popcorn and watch a movie.”
“Ugh.”
“And make your best friend indebted to you for a very long time.”
“I cannot believe you’re talking me into this.”
Her eyes lit up. “I am?”
“No.” But she was. Partially because if there was one thing worse than watching a Korean Drama all weekend, it was watching Madi sulk. “How long would I have to get ready?”
“We’re supposed to meet them there at eight.”
“That’s an hour and half from now, and it will take at least forty minutes to get downtown, find parking, and walk over there.”
“Come on. We can do it.” Madi jumped off the bed and headed for my closet. With no more energy to resist, I stared up at the ceiling until my vision blurred and listened to the scrape of metal hangers on the metal rod. “This one,” she said, pulling out one of my few dresses. “Black is so sexy, and with your fair skin and red hair, you always look like a goddess.”
A Man Worth Shaving For: A Sweet Romantic Comedy Page 1
