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Sex, Lies and Dirty Secrets

Page 18

by Jamie Sobrato


  She’d been a little late remembering her principles, but better late than never.

  “So what are you going to do?”

  “I don’t know. Quit my job and join the Peace Corps?”

  “That’s your grief talking. You’d be awful in a Third World country. You’d never get to wear cute suits or high heels, and there’d be no place to get your highlights done, no place to do a proper pedicure—”

  “Okay, okay, I’m not Peace Corps material. But seriously, I’m not sure I can show my face in the same office as Griffin again.”

  “I think it’ll do you good to face him and see that life will go on.”

  “What if he tells people what I did?”

  “Then you might want to quit and join the Peace Corps.”

  “Very funny.”

  “Griffin seems like a guy with some principles—”

  “Unlike me.”

  “I doubt he’d kiss and tell.”

  Lauren was probably right. Macy couldn’t imagine Griffin sinking to her level. Even when he’d used his sex appeal to get ahead, he’d always done it in a harmless way. He’d never hurt anyone. Unlike Macy.

  “This sucks.”

  Lauren was silent.

  “What?” Macy finally said. “What are you thinking?”

  “Oh, nothing. Just that if Griffin turns down the promotion, and you can’t have it, maybe Carson will get it.”

  “Why do you care if he gets it or not?”

  “I don’t. It was just an idea that popped into my head, that’s all.”

  Macy felt like an idiot for never having considered the possibility before. She’d been so focused on beating Griffin, she’d failed to look around at the competition. And Carson, always so laid back and casual, had never struck her as competition. But he’d be perfect for the job. Everyone loved him, and he’d never sleep with someone just to diminish their abilities.

  “You know,” she said. “I hope you’re right. If Griffin doesn’t want the job, I hope it’s offered to Carson.”

  “There will be a million other opportunities for you,” Lauren said.

  “Thanks, I need all the confidence I can get right now.”

  “You sound like what you really need is a badly translated kung fu movie and a double pepperoni pizza.”

  “Would that be hoping for too much?”

  “I’ll be there in an hour.”

  “I’ll call for pizza at the place on the corner if you’ll pick it up.”

  Macy hung up the phone and forced herself to smile. Yes, an actual smile, because she’d read somewhere that the simple act of smiling could lead to happiness. She was willing to try anything at this point.

  As she waited for Lauren to arrive, Macy read her e-mail—mostly junk—checked her cell-phone messages—three from her mother, two saying that she hoped to see that nice boy Garrett again soon—and rearranged all the CDs on her CD rack by alphabet and music genre.

  When Lauren arrived with pizza, Macy realized she did have one little thing to feel good about. She might have lost a great guy, but at least she’d gotten back her best friend. And now if she could just find a reason to respect herself, she’d be well on her way to not feeling like crap.

  Had she really thought she could blame her stupid decisions on a city? Even if it was Sin City? Had she actually gotten so desperate that she’d mistaken such a crazy notion for logic? For clear thinking?

  Yes. She had.

  They put in the movie and settled on the couch with cold cans of Coke and the box of pizza.

  She took a piece out and bit into it. It tasted incredible, but it didn’t make her feel any better.

  “You think you are a talented pugilist?” the hot shirtless guy on the TV screen said. “You will feel my wrath.”

  Lauren snickered. “How many times do you think they can use the word pugilist in this movie?”

  “I think they’ve already broken a world record.”

  She watched as the hot guy used a wooden pole to fight with the old guy who was missing two of his front teeth. What the old guy lacked in strength, he made up for in speed, and the match was pretty even. Of course, this was the world of martial arts films, where the usual logic of fighting didn’t apply.

  Macy tried to get lost in the laughable subtitles. But her mind kept wandering back to that simple yet oh, so diabolical phrase—What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas.

  She’d never imagined how untrue it would be.

  GRIFFIN STARED OUT at the bay, where the afternoon fog was just starting to roll in. A hard run across the Golden Gate Bridge and back hadn’t cured him of his restlessness, and neither had another two miles along the beach.

  The scents of eucalyptus and sea water were heavy in the air, and the cold dampness left him feeling as if he was running in an icy soup.

  When he finally realized that it didn’t matter how far he ran, he wasn’t going to escape any of the demons lurking in his head, he stopped, walked along Crissy Field as he caught his breath and finally let his brain work over the problems. There was no avoiding them.

  It didn’t take long for him to realize how much he wanted to get a fresh start. He wasn’t sure why he’d been putting it off for so many years, but maybe this mess with Macy was the impetus he needed to strike out on his own, leave Bronson and Wade, and start his own agency.

  Clearly, Macy wanted the promotion more than he did or she never would have gone to such ends to increase her chances of getting it. So, with him out of the picture, she could have what she wanted, even if she didn’t particularly deserve it after recent events.

  What he wanted was the issue here. And as soon as the idea was fully formed in his head, he felt a surge of relief so huge, he wanted to jump up in the air and kick his heels together.

  He’d do it. He’d turn down the promotion, put in his resignation tomorrow and move forward. He had enough in his emergency savings account to last him at least five months before he’d start running low on cash. That was enough time to get a business going, he hoped. It would have to be.

  When he reached the car, he got in and grabbed his cell phone out of the passenger seat, then dialed Carson’s number.

  “Hey, man,” he said when Carson answered. “It’s me. Looks like the creative director job is still open.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  Griffin filled him in on his decision.

  “Whoa. You sure about this? You can’t just drop your career because of some woman trouble.”

  “It’s not her. She’s just the one who made me realize what I really want to do. I know it sounds crazy, but hey.”

  “Sometimes the crazy ideas turn out to be the smartest ones in the end.”

  “Don’t suppose you’d want to be hired away from your current job?”

  Carson laughed. “Dude, I like you too much to go into business with you, know what I mean?”

  “Yeah, I do. Thought I’d ask, anyway. I know a good ad man when I see one.”

  “I wonder how Macy’s going to react to your leaving.”

  “She’s a big girl. She can handle it, but if you could keep word of my departure to yourself for a while, that would be great. I want to break the news to the senior partners before anyone else hears.”

  “No problem. What’s the deal with Macy, though? Aren’t you two on speaking terms?”

  “We were until last night when we parted ways for good.”

  “I still don’t get that you two can’t get along. You’re clearly perfect for each other.”

  “It’s complicated.”

  “Women always are.”

  True, but it felt wrong lumping Macy into the general category of all the women he’d dated. She stood away from the rest, maybe because of her deception, maybe because of the craziness of their relationship or maybe just because she was Macy.

  Something was nagging at the back of his conscience, and he was struck with the feeling that he had to get off the phone and figure out what it was.


  “Hey, I’d better go,” he said.

  “No problem. If you need to talk, you can reach me on my cell tomorrow and Tuesday.”

  “Oh, right, the meeting in Vegas with the photographer for the print ads.”

  “Yep, and the hotel’s comping our trip again. I’ll be living it up on their dime.”

  “Just be careful—if you happen to hook up with anyone while you’re there, I hear sex is bad for your IQ.”

  Carson laughed. “What the hell are you talking about?”

  Maybe it was better to just let him figure it out on his own. “Oh, nothing. It’s just some dumb-ass study I heard about recently. It was probably funded by Celibates of America or something.”

  “Whatever, dude. You get some rest. I think the stress is going to your head.”

  When Griffin hung up the phone, his thoughts turned to that nagging sensation again.

  Macy.

  Not like the others.

  Not like any other woman he’d ever known.

  How many women would try to sex a man out of his intelligence, all for the sake of a job promotion?

  He should have been pissed off about it, but she did tell him the truth, and honestly, she’d only played the game he’d started.

  Sure, he’d used the sexual tension between them as a weapon at times. He’d occasionally tried to woo her with their attraction to each other all for the sake of winning in the office.

  He was a competitor, and now he realized he’d been playing anything but honorably. So all she’d really done was sink to his level, and he couldn’t blame her for that. At least she had the grace to feel guilty about her actions, come clean and apologize, whereas he hadn’t even acknowledged until now that he’d been playing dirty at all.

  He was the one who owed her an apology. And he was ashamed of himself now for letting himself get so fixated on winning the game that he’d forgotten to play fairly. Hell, if he’d learned about the sex study before Macy, he’d have done the same thing she did. No doubt.

  He smiled. Then he laughed. Sex had a dumbing-down effect on the human animal.

  He was living proof of that very fact.

  17

  MACY LOOKED OUT over the city, breathed in the hot, dry air and hugged herself. Here she was, back in Las Vegas, in a suite nearly identical to the one she’d stayed in the weekend before.

  Here she was in the place where she’d tried to cast off all her inhibitions but had just ended up making a horrible mess instead. The memories of that wicked weekend left Macy with an achy, hollow feeling in her belly that refused to go away.

  She’d spent all afternoon dealing with Golden Gate business, and all evening sitting in her room eating room service, watching crappy movies and feeling hopelessly sorry for herself.

  She took in the sight of all the twinkling neon lights, then looked up at the night sky, where the stars were barely visible thanks to the ambient light from the city. What was she doing here? By herself. Again. It was too bad God wouldn’t spell out all the answers for her in star patterns.

  Down below, the sounds of nighttime in the city created a cacophony that made her feel like a lonely loser. While the rest of the city was partying, she was in her room alone.

  Alone. Was that really such a bad thing? Weren’t women of her age and generation supposed to relish being free and single?

  Apparently so. Macy sighed as she watched a convertible full of what looked like college girls cruising the strip down below, calling out to a group of guys on the sidewalk.

  If people were supposed to be happy alone, then why were they always looking to hook up? Of course, that was the part that no one was supposed to talk about—that being alone was perfectly fine in theory, but in practice, it left something to be desired.

  Namely, companionship. Sex. Affection.

  Macy had to believe those things weren’t too much to want. But they were too much to want with the wrong guy.

  Determined not to let her thoughts get any more morose, she left the balcony and went inside, got into her nightgown and crawled into bed with the latest Nora Roberts book, which she’d been saving for just this type of occasion. If she couldn’t have true love of her own right now, at least she could experience it vicariously.

  When she heard a knock at her door, Macy blinked at the ceiling, disoriented. She must have dozed off, she thought. But then it registered that it was actually daylight in the room, not nighttime. Which meant she must have slept all night. Her book was beside her on the bed, and the bedside lamp was still on. She must have been exhausted for the light not to have woken her up in the middle of the night.

  Must have been housekeeping knocking on the door.

  Macy glanced at the clock and saw that it was almost eight o’clock. A little early for housekeep—

  Almost eight o’clock, and she had a meeting with the Golden Gate execs at eight-thirty. She bolted upright in bed, her heart racing. She still had to shower, get ready, review the presentation materials….

  And then there was the person at the door to deal with, too. Macy got out of bed and called, “Just a minute.”

  She crossed the room to the door and peered out the peephole, expecting to see a woman with a cleaning cart. Instead she saw Griffin.

  Griffin?

  Macy’s belly flip-flopped, and her breath caught in her throat. This was the last thing she needed to deal with right now. Griffin, here to remind her what a horrible person she was? Here to tell her he’d changed his mind and wasn’t leaving after all? Here to reclaim his rightful place running the account? Griffin, here to…what? What could he possibly have been in Las Vegas for?

  “Macy? Could you open the door? I can see your shadow through the peephole. I need to talk to you.”

  She put her hand on the doorknob but couldn’t seem to make herself turn it. “So talk. I’m listening.”

  “I need to see your face to say what I have to say.”

  Macy looked down at her nightgown. He’d seen her in a lot less. She took a deep breath and let it out. She was terrified of facing the one person she’d failed the most, the person who’d seen her at her ugliest.

  Facing him again would mean facing her failure, but more important, it would mean facing the temptation to settle for less than her ideal guy again. That is, if he was still even interested in her.

  “Macy?”

  She pulled the door open. “What are you doing here?”

  He smiled. “I talked to Carson last night. He told me you were giving the big presentation this morning, so I caught the red-eye out here to help you prep this morning.”

  She tried to think of something to say, but nothing came to mind. He’d flown out here just to help her? Not likely. Not Griffin.

  “What’s your ulterior motive?”

  He grinned, busted. “Can I come in before I tell you?”

  “No.”

  “Please?”

  Macy rolled her eyes and stepped aside, then closed the door behind him. His presence was at least welcome to her senses, which went on alert at his nearness. His scent nearly made her swoon, and she tried to breathe through her mouth to avoid becoming too intoxicated.

  “You don’t look like you’re all ready to go into the big meeting. Or is this your latest business attire?”

  “I overslept, smart ass. Your knock woke me up.”

  But that reminded her, time was ticking away. If she skipped the shower, she could probably get ready in fifteen minutes instead of an hour, so that’s what she’d have to do.

  “Good thing I arrived then, eh?”

  “If you don’t mind, I’m going to get dressed in the bathroom. You can talk to me through the door,” she said as she opened the closet and pulled out her overnight bag and her suit.

  “Wait,” he said. “I just need five minutes of face time. If you want me to leave after that, I’m gone. Okay?”

  She dropped her stuff in the bathroom and turned back to him.

  “Are you trying to sabota
ge me now?”

  “I’m not the one who launched the big sabotage campaign in this relationship.”

  She winced. Oh, right. That was apparently her expertise.

  “I’m sorry,” she said.

  “I forgive you. For everything. Okay?”

  Her throat tightened, forcing her to nod in response. He was making this too easy. She deserved more of his wrath.

  He continued. “I don’t care how we started out. All I know is that I want you, and I’m not going to be happy until I have you. If you don’t feel the same way, I’ll turn around right now and walk away and never see you again.”

  She shook her head, wishing she could erase all the damage she’d done. “I’m sorry, Griffin. I just don’t see us working out in the long run.”

  “Why? Because I don’t fit some preconceived notion of the kind of guy you’re supposed to be with? Because I’m not your dark, brooding romance hero? I’ve got to tell you Macy, what you’re holding out for is a fantasy, not a real guy.”

  She blinked, shaking her head, unable to produce a proper defense.

  “You need to forget about all that and let me be the guy you need. Because I am. You need someone who sees how amazing you are, someone who doesn’t care about your flaws because to him they’re not flaws at all, someone who’s as crazy about you as I am.”

  His words sank in, and Macy tried to think of a proper argument. But… He was making a hell of a lot of sense. Was she really looking for a guy who didn’t exist?

  No way.

  “I’ve dated guys just like what you described. I know they’re out there.”

  His eyebrow cocked. “Oh, really? So why aren’t you with any of them now?”

  “Because they weren’t the right guy.”

  “Because they weren’t me.”

  “You’re just my high-school fantasy,” she said, turning toward the bathroom. “You’re the kind of guy I wanted before I knew better.”

 

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