by Lynn Stevens
“Not in the world of my father.” He shrugged. “I’ve heard the board’s threatened by him these days.”
Tabitha raised an eyebrow. “Really? Hadn’t heard that.”
“Somehow I doubt that,” Zac said. He knew she was lying by the way she avoided his gaze. “I’m sure you’ve heard everything.”
“I did hear Walters mention something about a takeover. He mentioned it was already in full swing.” Tabitha leaned forward putting her hand on his upper thigh. “Now that we got the information exchange out of the way, let’s move on to more pleasant topics.”
“As enticing as that sounds, I’m not sure it’s a smart move,” Zac said. He inhaled her smoky scent, a mix of bar and perfume.
“And all you make are smart moves, right?” Tabitha leaned closer until her lips brushed against his ear. “Smart moves aren’t always fun moves, Zac Sparks.”
“No strings,” he said, needing to make it perfectly clear that if this happened, it happened once and never again.
“I don’t like strings.” Her hand slid up his thigh, her thumb flicking over his growing erection. “Unless you’re tying me up tonight. Even then, I prefer handcuffs.”
Zac slipped his hand under her skirt. He was never the type of guy to be so bold in a public place, but it was dark and her legs were between him and the bar. If anyone saw anything, they’d have superhuman vision. Her skin was soft, as he expected, and his fingers stretched toward her apex. He expected to find silk or satin, but all he discovered was more smooth skin.
“Jesus,” he whispered in her ear. Zac rarely used such language. It was unbecoming, or so his grandfather had always said. Even now it made him feel wrong.
She nipped at his ear before drawing back. “If you’ll just wait here, I’m just going to ... freshen up.”
Zac watched her hips sway as she walked away, one foot unnaturally in front of the other. He couldn’t remember ever having a one-night stand. They usually ended up going out for at least a few months. Tabitha promised nothing more than a release, a way to forget her. That was exactly what he was going to do. It didn’t matter why she stood him up. All that matter was that she had.
He pulled out his phone and swiped left to unlock it. The Blind Friends app had updated to a brighter white and a different font for the B and F. Shaking his head, he opened it up to delete his profile. His gaze darted to the messages as if on auto-pilot. One new message. It probably wasn’t anything more than a new contact, but he opened the messages anyway.
It was from her.
Part of him didn’t want to read it, he wanted to cut the whole thing out of his life. But the other half needed to know what she had to say for herself. He needed to know if she was the person he thought she was or if she was the exact opposite. He opened the message and read.
When he’d read through it twice, he leaned against the bar. He got it. Life wasn’t exactly going smooth for him either. With his father’s health issues, the takeover attempt of his dad’s business, and just trying to figure out where he fit in, Zac understood more than she knew.
Tabitha’s hand settled onto his thigh. He gazed up into her eyes and decided he wasn’t going home with her. He wasn’t going to have sex with her just to forget about his mystery girl. If he was brutally honest, he didn’t even want to anymore. The moment was over.
“Sorry, Tabitha. Something’s come up. I can’t tonight.” He stood and her hand fell away along with her seductive smile. “Raincheck?” he asked without meaning it.
“Raincheck.” She rose on her tiptoes and whispered in his ear. “I guess my B.O.B. will do the job meant for you. And when we have that raincheck, we’ll go all night.”
Even though Zac had no doubt that she meant it, he had no intention of following through. Well, at least not until he figured out what was going on with his mystery girl.
The ten-minute drive to his apartment felt like an eternity. He wanted nothing more than to respond to her that they could meet this weekend or tomorrow or whenever worked for her. But he didn’t want to scare her off, either. She was clearly going through a lot and needed time to figure it out. The most he could realistically do was listen via messages.
Before he stepped into his apartment, his phone rang. He glanced at the caller ID. Chomper. Why was Macie calling?
“Hello?” he asked, trying to keep the curiosity out of his voice. He let the irritation shine through.
“Sorry to bother you, but I... I thought since we’re supposed to try this whole getting along thing that I’d make dinner for Saturday.” Macie inhaled loudly into the receiver. Was the overly confident Macie nervous? Zac had a hard time believing that, but she sounded uncomfortable at a minimum. “It’s going to take a while to go through everything and I figured it would be nice if I knew if you had any allergies.”
Zac wasn’t really sure how to respond. “No food allergies.” Not that he had other plans on Saturday, but he hadn’t expected it to take more than an hour. “How much stuff do we have to go over anyway?”
“Well, with the shower, there’s the party supplies, the menu, the RSVPs, and we need to go through the guest list to make sure everyone has been notified. The invites went out already, but there’s still time to contact anybody Ford wants to add. Sylvia’s been leaning on me to get everything done. As if I don’t have other things to do. Since Ford wants it joint, then I need you to give me some input.”
“That’s a ... quite a lot,” he said.
“Then there’s the bachelorette-slash-bachelor party. I’ve already made calls about a party bus, but in light of combining the parties, we’d probably need two. Or we’ll have to do something else entirely. I had everything tentatively planned out, but nothing’s been booked, thank God. The cost has to be a factor, too.”
“I hadn’t even thought about that.” He just figured they’d all go to a club and get drunk. “Is there enough time to get everything done?”
“Barely, but if we work our asses off on Saturday, we’ll have a solid plan to move forward with. Lauren’s already ordered twenty more invitations for Ford’s half of the shower, but I don’t know if that’s enough. Do you have his guest list?”
“Um... no.”
“Okay, I’ll get it.” Someone shouted her name in the background. “Shit, that’s Alex. I have to go. I’ll see you Saturday.”
She hung up and Zac pulled his phone away from his ear, staring at it as if it would tell him that wasn’t Macie but someone pretending to be her. She was way too nice. Almost human.
He shook his head and sat on his couch with his tablet. Macie was a ball of energy welded together by confusion. He couldn’t read her. And he wasn’t sure he really wanted to, either. He opened his app and reread mystery girl’s message. Then he composed his own.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Glorious Friday. Even though Macie still had to go to work, the feeling of a Friday didn’t disappear. She sat in her chair with her tablet, sipping coffee with enough sugar she should just own her own sugar plantation. The air conditioner kicked on, freezing the beads of water still on her bare skin from the shower. She’d get dressed before she left. There wasn’t any reason to wear clothes in her own home.
The news was grim as per the norm. Even the celebrity gossip she secretly followed was depressing. Macie clicked on her Blind Friends app expecting nothing. He hadn’t responded so far, why start now? The red one over the inbox surprised her. She opened it.
I read this and thought “yes, I do understand.” Then I read it again and I found that even though I understand the situation, I don’t understand the standing up. It’s only fair that I’m honest. And honestly, I opened up the app tonight to delete my profile and move on. I’d given up. And I’m not one to do so lightly. When I saw your message, though, I knew I wasn’t ready to throw in the towel. (Where does that come from anyway? Clichés drive me crazy. After a quick Google, I found out it comes from boxing. When a fighter wants to end a fight, they literally throw in a towel. Now I know
.)
Tonight I went to a happy hour with my co-workers. It was miserable and I didn’t want to be there. I’m not welcome among the crowd for reasons that are obvious. Well, not to you but maybe one day they will be. So, I get it.
But life is always going to be overwhelming. Something is always going to come up. The key is to not let anything else get in the way of what you want. That’s one lesson my father taught me that I know is true. Take my job, for example. I know why I’m unpopular, and I know it won’t change overnight. I also know that I don’t have to be friends with my co-workers, but it wouldn’t hurt to be friendly. I have friends outside of work and they’re all I really need. Having alliances inside the office, well... that never hurts. Work sometimes feels like war. You’re constantly battling to prove yourself and get the leg up on your coworkers just to get ahead.
So here’s what I propose going forward. We continue our conversations as we always have. If you want to meet me, then it’s up to you. I won’t suggest it again. You make that call.
Now that she knew it was Zac, Macie could hear his voice in his words. It was equal parts cringe-worthy and swoon-worthy. Macie had never denied Zac’s hotness, but she’d always focused on his shitty attitude. Maybe it had really been her shitty attitude.
She sat up straight.
Oh my God. Did I do this to myself? The thought made her sick to her stomach. She’d never even considered it before. But it wasn’t all her. Zac antagonized her and said things he knew would piss her off. Of course, if she hadn’t been so damn defensive, she wouldn’t have let him get to her so fast, so easily. He’d always seen her at her worst, and he’d always been quick to make a joke out of it. Maybe she’d just taken that all the wrong way to hide her embarrassment.
It didn’t matter now. She had to let all of that go and move forward, because this Zac was not the Zac she’d known all these years. She had to try, at least. She owed it to herself.
Macie took her time responding, choosing her words carefully. Nothing she wrote to him could give away who she was. It took her longer than ever to compose the message. She’d never had writer’s block before. Words wouldn’t come to her. Macie typed out what she wanted to say, “It’s me. It’s Macie. I was there.” Then she deleted it.
Her phone buzzed on the table beside her. The caller ID read “A$$hole” which meant Alex. He’d picked up her phone yesterday while it was unlocked and added his number. She changed the name.
“Good morning. I emailed you some photos of a story I’m working on for the website. Please get them to me by eight this morning.”
Macie deleted the message. He knew she’d get in at eight. Besides, this was her personal phone. If the station wanted her to be on-call, then they could provide her with a phone. She shook her head, putting Alex and Zac out of her mind. It was time to do something more important. She opened her web browser and started job hunting.
NOBODY WOULD TELL HIM anything. They all pledged fealty to his father as if he was an actual king. Not that Zac expected them to confess his father’s potential downfall, but nobody would even talk about him. Nothing. Nada. Zilch.
Maybe it was just Zac. Maybe he wasn’t meant to be a part of his father’s war. Maybe he wasn’t meant to be a part of Sparks Investments. That thought had crept into his mind over the last week. Was this what he wanted to do with his life? He would be financially secure. It would be smart. It would be easy. He was good at it. But was that what he wanted? He’d never asked himself that. It was a foregone conclusion that he’d take over the family business. But he’d never been the one to come to that conclusion.
Zac propped his tablet up in front of his monitor. He was sick of numbers for the day, it was time for a break. He opened Blind Friends, smiling at the new message before he even opened it.
I took this job because I needed it, not because I wanted it. The job I wanted never even called me in for an interview. Maybe I set the bar too high. Maybe desperation makes us do stupid things. I don’t know. Regardless, it started out great. The first few weeks I thought I’d made the right choice. Then this past week something changed. Or rather someone changed it. A co-worker demanded all my time. To be blunt, the guy’s an asshole. He’s also the owner’s son.
My boss gives him exactly what he wants at the expense of others. He’s so bad that one guy quit, just walked out. And nobody does anything about it. Being down one in our department gives me a little power. I can push my boss, but only so far. I can’t get fired or quit yet. I need this. Bills don’t get paid on their own.
The first round of new resumes went out today. One month and I’m already looking for a new job. I’m terrified I won’t find something else. I feel like I’ve already failed. But how is this my fault? How am I the one who failed? My boss failed me. I’m just doing what I can to remove myself from the situation. But then I ask myself, what if I don’t find another job for a few months? Or even a year? Then what do I do?
I don’t know. And that scares the shit out of me.
Zac sat back after reading. The owner’s son? Was it possible that his mystery girl worked here? He stood and strolled down the hall, checking out each woman he saw in the rows of cubicles. None of the new investors qualified. They were all male. The clerical pool was small, and again, no new personnel that fit the description. He didn’t even deal with them much as it was. The only person who might’ve fit was Tabitha, but she’d been with Sparks Investments for more than a month.
He reread the message.
No, he wasn’t the asshole owner’s son. Nobody had walked out or quit recently. He would’ve heard about it. His shoulders sagged in relief. If he’d offended anybody by his bloodline, he wanted to know. He wanted to fix it. Zac didn’t want to be that guy, the one who took advantage of his situation, of his heritage.
He smiled at everyone as he headed back to his office. The phone on his desk rang.
“Zac Sparks,” he answered as he plopped into his office chair.
“We need to talk,” his father said before hanging up.
Zac set the receiver down in the cradle and shut down his computer for the day. He read through the message one last time before closing his tablet. It took him less than five minutes before he ended up in his father’s office, and he regretted not getting there sooner.
“We’re too late,” his father said. His pale face and ruddy cheeks contradicted one another. His father sat slouched in his chair, a man defeated. “All the news that trickled down to me. All the information given to me by the board. All of everything about taking this company public had been in the works for longer than I was told. They called a board meeting today, one I found out about after it had started. They voted in favor. We lost the war before we could even fight a battle.”
Zac collapsed into the chair in front of his father’s desk. “What now?”
“Now,” he said, standing to his full height, “we own forty percent of the company that I started. Now I’m on the verge of being tossed out. Now I decide if I stay or if I go. Now I stand tall in front of the others, because if I don’t, I have failed.”
“What about me?” Zac blurted almost without thinking. It had been on his mind since it first came up. “What do I do now?”
His father’s face softened. “You do what you do, son. You’ll be fine. You’re bright and are more capable than most of the other guys here.”
Zac nodded, his gaze dropped to the tablet in his hands. His mind drifted to his mystery girl. She was in a job she took only because she had to. He’d taken his job because it was expected of him. Maybe she wasn’t the only one who needed a change. Zac stood, glancing at his father’s slouched back as he stared out the window of his corner office. He’d lost, and he knew it, but his father would only let Zac see that brief moment of vulnerability. Not that too many people would’ve recognized it. Zac had seen it when his mother died. It wasn’t something Zac thought he’d ever see again, yet here it was.
“It’ll be okay, Dad,” Zac said. He knew
his father needed to hear that even if he didn’t believe it. “Sparks men tend to land on their feet.”
His father snorted and turned around. “That we do, son. That we do.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Macie wanted to strangle Alex before nine in the morning on Friday. But by Saturday, she was noting places to hide his body. The dumpster behind the station was too obvious even if it was the most convenient. He made last minute demands and changes on perfectly good graphics. At one point he had the nerve to accuse her of photoshopping his face to make him look less attractive. Unfortunately for him, he’d done it in front of the entire newsroom.
“I didn’t do anything to your face, Alex,” Macie had said. “Blame that on your parents.”
Snickers bounced around the newsroom. Once Alex stormed out, Macie even got a few high fives from the crew. She took great pleasure in knocking him down with well-placed sarcasm mixed with brutal honesty. Probably not the best idea since his father owned the station, but she was past the point of caring. And the stern email from Nancy was sent straight to the trash bin.
She had thirty minutes left before she clocked out at six. Zac would be at her place at seven. She’d put a stew in the slow cooker for dinner before she left. Her small apartment was going to smell like a slice of meaty heaven. Her mouth watered just thinking about it. She worked her tail off the night before making the dough for fresh biscuits. The minute she walked into her place, she’d have to preheat the oven to bake them. Not to mention shower, change, and make herself look presentable without making herself look presentable. It was Zac, after all. He’d seen her throw up in the bushes outside more than one frat house. That was a bonus for her. He’d clearly seen her at her worst. He’d never seen her at her best. It was time she made him see her for who she really was—a compassionate, loyal human being. Not a raving bitch with permanent PMS.
