by Carly Carson
Two middle-aged women followed. Letty from HR, a thin, elegant black woman with a swan-like neck, and Maria Lopez, who headed up the Marketing Department.
Finally, a viable target entered. Josh Gilroy. Everything about him radiated confidence, from his pleasant smile and calm demeanor, to his rich tenor voice and well-fitted suit. Amanda suspected he was a bit older than he appeared to be since he was already head of the Treasury Department, filling in this week for the Vice-President of Finance, who was away.
Josh was wearing a preppy Vineyard Vines tie, with yellow whales on a pale blue background. He stopped next to her, said "Good morning," and placed his briefcase on the conference table next to hers. When he sat down, she could smell a pleasant aroma of coffee and mint. Clean and cool. She smiled warmly at him.
He leaned his head down to speak quietly to her. "Ready for the daily drama?"
Amanda giggled. Yesterday's drama had featured Phoebe pacing back and forcing in front of the white board, declaring she needed to double her budget if anyone expected the company website to remain at the top ranking in the search engines.
Maria had taken her on, arguing for any extra money to go directly to the marketing department where it could be more effectively spent than on "some website that no one ever looks at."
Phoebe hadn't taken that well and the battle raged until Logan raised one hand.
"No one's budget will be increasing this month." His quiet words fell into a bucket of silence, and no one had dared to venture another comment.
Now Josh winked at her, just as Logan slipped in through the door from his office. Logan's dark gaze flew from Amanda to Josh and back again to Amanda. She thought his lips tightened, but that might have been a trick of the lighting.
Logan strode over to his seat and yanked out his chair just as Philip Barnston bounded in. His purple tie, complementing a purple and white striped dress shirt, introduced a carnival atmosphere into the room. "Hey, Amanda, love." Philip headed in her direction. "Thanks for saving me a seat." Sliding in to the empty seat next to her he flashed a grin, and offered her a stick of gum.
She shook her head no, frowning slightly at the way he'd singled her out. His blonde hair waved back from his forehead in a perfectly styled cut that had undoubtedly set him back more than a hundred dollars. Though he was a bit too boyishly Hugh Grantish for her taste, she couldn't rule him out. He seemed disposed to like her and he was certainly young and attractive.
With a final cool glance in the direction of Amanda, Logan began the meeting. He didn't look her way again unless she spoke, and she wasn't sure if she should be grateful or alarmed.
Alarm won the day when the meeting ended and everyone rose in a buzz of talk and scraping chairs.
"Amanda." Logan had to raise his voice a bit to call down the table. "I'd like to see you in my office."
Her head jerked up in surprise. But she managed to reply calmly enough, "Be right there."
"Hey, Amanda." Josh touched her arm.
She turned to look at him. "What—"
"Amanda." Logan's deep voice cut through the post-meeting buzz. "Now, if you please."
"Geez," she muttered under her breath. "The drama continues."
"He's not too bad," Josh murmured. "As long as you don’t make any mistakes."
Amanda watched covertly as Logan tucked his laptop under his arm and strode from the room. What did he want with her? Had he seen her flirting with Josh? Was that the cause of the thunderous scowl on his face?
No, she couldn't be so arrogant as to suppose it was. She reminded herself of how he'd left her both nights in Philadelphia. He was hardly pining after her.
On that thought, courage spurted through her. She had her own life to make and it certainly wasn't going to revolve around Logan Winter.
She walked into his office, faking a confidence she didn't really feel. He'd been facing out the window, but he swiveled around at her approach. She had to order herself not to gape, but it was hard. He was so attractive. His white Oxford shirt emphasized the breadth of his shoulders, and he'd rolled up the sleeves neatly, showing off his strong forearms.
With the air of a man opening negotiations on an unpleasant topic, he announced, "I have to attend a wedding next Saturday."
"Scary." Amanda bit her cheek to keep from smiling at the tense look on his face.
"Unavoidable." He tapped a pen against the leather blotter on his desk. "One of my financial backers."
"You want me to ask Rosie to order a gift? Can't go wrong with Tiffany's."
"Damn." He snapped his fingers. "You're right. That's something Ms. Lockwood would have handled."
Amanda turned. "I'll get Rosie on it."
"Wait." He paused.
She raised her eyebrows. What was the problem? It wasn't like him to hesitate over his words.
"I rarely attend such an event."
She nodded.
"Never bring a date."
She had to smile at that. "Might give a woman ideas."
He rolled his eyes. "You can't imagine."
"No," she said politely.
"In this case, however—" He started tapping again with the pen. "I thought it might be useful for you to go."
"Me?" She almost dropped her laptop. "I'm not invited."
"With me, Amanda," he snapped.
It had to be the least gracious invitation she'd ever received.
"With you?" She couldn't prevent herself from repeating the words.
"No big deal." He waved a hand. "Excellent contacts for you."
"Contacts." She managed to nod her head as if any of this made sense. Everyone attended weddings to make contacts, right?
He met her gaze. "Yes or no?"
Did she see a hint of uncertainty in the back of those gray eyes? Impossible. No one in the world had more self-possession than he did.
"Fine."
"Good." He put down the pen. "It's black tie. 8 p.m. I'll pick you up at 7."
She turned on her heel and walked out. Even if people didn't attend weddings to make connections, it was a fact that she'd still meet people. People worth meeting.
Josh was standing at Rosie's desk, booking an appointment with Logan. He turned with a smile when Amanda walked up.
"Did you survive the inquisition?" he asked cheerfully. "You look all in one piece."
"So far, his bark is worse than his bite." Amanda smiled. "Let's hope I never learn differently."
"I've been here five years. As long as you work your tail off and never screw up, he's fine to work for."
"That's reassuring." She couldn't help the wry twist to her smile.
"Hey, on another subject." Josh raised his brows. "Some of us go out for a drink on Friday after work. Care to join us?"
"Sure." She smiled. Perfect.
"You too, Rosie." Josh nodded at her.
"I'm busy," she answered, "but you all have a good time."
"Join us if you change your mind." The elevator dinged and Josh moved toward it. "Six o'clock. The Zebra Bar. Right here in the building."
Amanda nodded her acceptance.
Excellent. Josh was a perfect candidate for temporary boyfriend. Not only was he friendly and personable, she actually liked him. It was an added bonus that she'd be seeing him in the company of their co-workers. That should help to squash any rumors about her and Logan.
Rosie raised her eyebrows, and nodded at Josh's receding back. "You could do worse."
"Nice guy." Amanda leaned over to speak quietly. "But it's time to think weddings, Rosie."
"Already?" Rosie's eyes turned as round as Christmas balls.
"Already?" Amanda repeated. "What the heck do you mean?"
"You and Logan—"
Amanda's gasp was followed by a giggle. "You couldn't possibly think—" She waved back at the office she'd just left.
"I certainly could." Rosie narrowed her eyes. "I'm not blind, ya know."
"You haven't heard his lines?" Amanda lowered her voice to the deepes
t range she could manage. "'I don't date. I don't do relationships.'" They laughed together.
"He doesn't need those lines with me," Rosie said. "I'm certainly not his type."
"Me neither," Amanda agreed. "But a wedding might be the kind of event you don't take your hired sex buddy to, so I'm elected to be the sacrificial victim."
"I suppose that's one way of looking at it."
Amanda laughed. "It's the only way. My problem now is finding something appropriate to wear."
Rosie pursed her lips. "You need a wedding dress."
"A dress for a wedding, Rosie." Amanda shook her head. "Not a wedding dress."
Rosie grinned, unrepentant. "Just amusing myself."
Amanda sighed, repressing the thoughts Rosie's words conjured. "It's a Saturday night wedding," she said. "Black tie. I can go simple."
"Negative." Rosie thumped a hand on her desk. "You're going to go smashing."
Chapter 10
The wedding, Logan had told her, was being held at an estate in Westchester County. With Rosie's help, Amanda had found the perfect gown at a resale shop downtown. The bias cut and careful tailoring of the blue gown transformed her body into something both svelte and curvaceous. Rosie had decreed no jewelry other than earrings.
"The way that dress displays your tatas," Rosie said, "you don't want any other distractions."
Amanda clapped a hand to her chest. "It's not too revealing, is it?"
Rosie shook her head. "Suggestive, not revealing. If Logan doesn't want you for himself, he's gonna have to fight off other guys."
Amanda laughed. "You're good for my ego, anyway."
"You call me no matter what time you get home and spill all the details."
But as soon as Logan arrived to pick her up, Amanda had no time to think of anything but the magic of the unfolding evening. When Logan had buzzed her apartment, she hadn't let him in, instead telling him through the intercom that she'd be right down. She didn't want to give the impression that she thought this might be a date.
He was standing in the small lobby when the elevator opened, a slight frown between his brows. "I would have come up," he said.
"No problem." She breezed by him, though not before she saw the quick up and down glance he gave her. Her feet tingled in the high-heeled sandals she'd splurged on. She refused to think about her motivation for spending the money, because she was determined not to address the issue of why she wanted to look sexy for him.
He followed close behind, reaching around her to push open the front door.
"It's so pretty," she exclaimed. A light snow was falling, with an inch or two of white glitter softening the hard lines of the city.
"Those shoes will get ruined in the snow." Logan scooped her up and carried her through the door.
"Hey!" She was too surprised to do more than grab him and hang on. With a half dozen long strides, they'd reached the car door held open by Felipe. Logan leaned in and deposited her neatly in the middle of the back seat. When he climbed in and settled beside her, she realized that she should have moved aside. His broad shoulders nudged hers, and his left thigh was dangerously close to her right.
The door closed behind him with a soft click, cocooning them in darkness. She could smell him, hot and male. Something fluttered in her stomach.
"You look lovely," he said, his deep voice low and somehow intimate in the luxurious confines of the car. He raised his arm and placed it on the seat back behind her, not touching her, but shielding her within the frame of his body.
She couldn't move now. It would be too obvious and awkward. But she didn't lean back either. He was her boss, not her date. She had to remember that.
"Relax," he said.
They traveled through the brightly lit city and into the darker countryside. She managed to ask him about the bride and groom, how he knew them, and who she might expect to meet. He answered all of her frantic questions, the amused note in his calm voice the only sign that she wasn't fooling him about her nervousness.
Luckily, when they reached the mansion, an awning stretched out from the front door to the enormous sweep of the driveway. She was able to alight from the car with only the assistance of Logan's hand. But her fingers tingled, even through their gloves, when he drew her hand into his grasp.
He placed her hand on his bent arm. "Better hold on," he said. "Might be icy."
They walked up a short flight of broad, shallow steps lined with miniature fir trees twinkling with golden fairy lights. The grand entrance foyer sparkled with more lights from a huge Waterford chandelier, wall sconces and numerous, flickering white candles. Huge bouquets of colorful flowers decorated and perfumed the space. An unseen quartet played background music.
Logan was hailed on all sides by men whose black and white formality set off the colorful beauty of their perfectly polished women.
For just a moment, Amanda regretted her decision to come. She wouldn't know anyone and had no hope of fitting in with this sophisticated crowd.
But then Logan placed his warm hands on her shoulders, removed her coat and handed it to one of the staff. When she turned to face him, she sucked in a breath of wonder. She'd never seen him in a tuxedo, of course, but he wore the formal dress as if born to it. The jacket was perfectly tailored to his broad shoulders, and the snow white shirt contrasted elegantly with his dark good looks.
But the real ego booster was the warmth in his eyes when he looked at her. He slipped an arm around her waist, warming her in the hall, which was cooled by the constantly opening front door. He leaned closer to be heard over the high noise level. "You'll be meeting a large number of people. I'll let you know when it's someone I'd really like you to know." He squeezed her waist gently, but did not pull away, even when she nodded.
"Mmmm," he said, "you smell good."
"Thanks," she muttered. He shouldn't be making personal comments. But now he was threading them through the crowd, his firm arm around her making her feel secure in a totally inappropriate way.
Angry with her own response, more than with him, she issued a low-voiced warning. "You should remove your arm."
His fingers tightened a bit. "I don't want all these men to think you're available."
"I am available."
"Not tonight."
She couldn't respond since a beautiful couple was hailing Logan.
One warning squeeze and then Logan was introducing her to the tall, fair-haired man, who turned out to be his roommate from college. David and his equally fair wife, June, looked at Amanda with bright curiosity. "I'm so pleased to meet you," June said with a smile. "We never see Logan with a date."
"I'm not exactly—"
"June," Logan broke in. "Amanda is new to this group. Please help her feel comfortable."
"Of course." June drew her to the side as the men headed for one of the bars. "How do you know Logan?"
"We work together."
"You do?" June's blue eyes widened. "I never would have expected Logan to date someone who works for him."
"We're not dating." Amanda had to make it clear. Who knows, maybe she really could meet someone interesting here. But no one would approach her if they thought she was on a date.
"Okay." June didn't try to hide her skepticism. "But don't tell Logan that." She winked at Amanda as the two men approached with champagne for everyone.
Amanda took one of the delicate flutes, but resolved to sip very slowly. Even though the champagne was delicious, bright and sparkly, she couldn't afford to get tipsy. Luckily, they moved soon into the large reception room where the vows were being said. She was able to leave the champagne behind.
The ceremony was short, but beautiful. The auburn-haired bride wore a stunningly simple, cream gown, and the groom looked almost as handsome as Logan in his black tux. Amanda had to suppress a slight pang of envy toward a couple who seemed to have everything. But she was able to sincerely wish them well in the reception line, and then she and Logan, still in the company of David and June, moved in
to a grand ballroom lined with tables for dinner. A dozen musicians were playing there, and a large crowd was dancing and enjoying the fast rock beat and the smoky-voiced singer.
"We're at table two," David announced. "I'm sure you are as well."
Once they found their seats, David and June excused themselves. "Got to do my duty on the dance floor," David joked.
"Let's join them." Logan held out a hand.
"We really shouldn't dance. You're my boss."
"Not tonight." He swept her into his arms. "We're going to dance."
She wanted to argue. She knew she should argue. But she loved to dance, and his arms possessed a magic she was helpless to resist.
Within minutes, she knew that Logan was an excellent dancer. No matter what she did, even if she missed a step, he was there. Catching here, twirling her in dizzying circles, pulling her close when the movement allowed.
His expertise made them conspicuous, and people were watching. The band played all kinds of popular tunes, and the crowd jumped and gyrated, often in time to the music, often randomly. But Logan managed to find the beat in every song.
"Rumba?" he'd ask, smiling down at her and she'd move into his arms, each time with a little more comfort.
"Salsa?"
She could do the basics, courtesy of a ballroom dance class she'd taken in college to fulfill the gym requirement. But she wished she could stop and merely watch him. His hips mesmerized her, gyrating to the music while his upper body held a still frame perfectly, so that he didn't thrash about as so many men did when dancing.
"You like to dance?" he asked when the band stopped for a moment.
"Love it."
And never more so than tonight. She didn't know if she'd ever danced to such a good live band. Of course, she knew that was money talking, but she might as well enjoy it. She'd definitely never had such an accomplished partner.
"Where'd you learn to dance so well?" she asked. "Doesn't really go with the corporate image."
"I have a good sense of rhythm." He began to move as the band started a new song.
"Someone taught you the steps." His refusal to answer personal questions was so frustrating.
"Girlfriend," he said briefly, his tone discouraging further questions. "A long time ago."
