by Jami Wagner
No answer.
Next up, Greg.
No answer.
I pass a few other names, most of whom I don’t feel like calling. Mainly because a drink sounds good but not drinking till I’m black-out drunk.
A name pops up that I honestly forgot was in my phone. Tyler Maron. I met him during the one semester I took a marketing class at Wind Valley college.
I press the green button and wait.
“Mav, it’s been a while.” There’s a chuckle to his greeting. If I recall, the last time I saw Tyler, we were leaving campus and this blonde chick marched up to him and hit him with her backpack. Right after he finished shouting at her to stop, she began screaming at him over something that had to do with a friend or girl who used to be a friend or something along those lines. I just know she was pissed.
“I figured you needed a decent amount of time to take care of your lady drama,” I say and somehow, the words immediately bring Beth to mind.
“Oh man, I will never forget that day, even if it was a couple years ago. I wish I could say any drama with that particular one is gone, but I fear she’ll always be around.”
I ask. “Care to meet for a drink and forget about it?”
He laughs more. “That is definitely something I can do. The BA in thirty?”
“The BA?”
“The Black Alcove bar. We went there once, I think, while you were here. It’s down near the park square.”
“Right, okay. I’ll see you there,” I agree and we hang up.
* * *
I push open the door to The Black Alcove and am instantly surprised at the number of people here on a Monday night. Being a college town—even during the summer months—probably has something to do with it.
I spot Tyler standing at the end of the bar. He’s leaning forward in a similar black slacks and button-down shirt ensemble that I am wearing, talking to a woman who’s balancing a small round tray on her hip. As I get closer, I recognize her as the same crazy girl from school that day.
“Hey man,” I say, grabbing his attention.
“Mav.” He shakes my hand. “It’s good to have you back in town.”
“It’s good to be back.” I nod and pull out a seat. He takes the one next to me.
“Abby, this is Maverick. Maverick, Abby.”
We shake hands and I smile, but I don’t miss the way her eyes narrow at me.
“Maverick, huh? That’s not a very common name,” she says.
“No, it’s not. I actually don’t know anyone else with the same name.”
She smirks.
“Neither do I, yet for some reason, I feel like I know you already.”
I start to speak, but her shout stalls me.
“Girls,” she yells down the bar. The women, one blonde and one brunette, turn to look at her. “This is Ty’s friend.” A large smile stretches across her face. “His name is Maverick.”
One jaw drops and a set of eyes go wide. Then they both break into a set of laughter.
“Abs, whatever you’re doing, stop,” Tyler says, and she rolls her eyes.
“You can wait for Luke or Sky to get your drinks.”
“Abby, seriously?” he asks. She just walks away.
I feel really out of place.
“Is there a reason you wanted to pick this bar? It doesn’t seem very relaxing,” I say.
“It is. I just never know what kind of mood Abby’s going to be in when she sees me. She was fine till you walked in. So thanks for that,” he says with a slight chuckle.
Once we have beers, we wander over to the only empty pool table out of the four along the back wall. Very similar to the bar in CO.
“You ever been in love, Maverick?” Tyler asks then pulls a pool stick from its place against the wall.
Beth’s face flashes to mind. I shake the thought and take a few gulps of my beer. “No sir. Not that I know of.”
“Well, if you ever do, take it from me. Anything you have to give up or fight for or break or whatever, just do it. If you don’t, you’ll be where I am and stuck trying to win her back.”
I glance back to the bar where Abby is watching us. Tyler takes the first shot, the pool cracking against the balls. After a while, he changes the conversation to sports, we drink two beers, and play three rounds of pool. By the end of the night, I walk out a hundred dollars richer and only slightly more confused on what I should about Beth. Or if I should do anything at all.
Chapter Five
Beth
“Good morning,” Ann greets me as I step off the elevator. My shoulders loosen as I take in her smile. If she greets me every morning with this perky of an attitude, it’s going to be hard walking in here every day worrying over working with Maverick.
“Good morning,” I reply with a wave as I head for my office.
It’s not like I can’t do my job just because he is in the room next me or because if I need to talk to anyone throughout the day, he’ll be the first person I go to. Because let’s be honest, Austin is going to be no help. Maverick will not affect me. And I will repeat this every day until I accept its truth.
His evergreen smell reaches me before I’ve even stepped into my office.
Maverick is leaned back in my chair with his feet propped up on my desk. He’s reading something and judging from his engrossed level, I gather he’s been here for more than just a few minutes.
Just fucking great.
“Good morning, Maverick. Are you ready to get started?” I ask, keeping my tone completely professional when I really want to tell him to get his polished black shoes that look like they’ve never set foot outside off my clean desk. But that wouldn’t really make sense, seeing as how they aren’t dirty. But I’d do anything in the moment to get that sexy smirk off his face. And “anything” is not a good idea when a new vision of us naked and on my desk just popped into my mind.
“Beth,” he says, retuning his feet to the floor and adjusting his tie as he sits up. “How are you today?”
“Ready to work. Where’s Austin? He was on the email I sent out asking you both to meet me in my office this morning.” I’d sent the email with intentions of diving into work so I wouldn’t be tempted to think of Maverick. It’s clearly not working because I’m pretty certain we could both fit in that chair as long as I kept my knees bent.
“Are you always in such a serious work mode when you arrive?” he asks.
“From the moment I walk through those doors to the moment I leave, yes.” Good. Glad he’s focused.
“You’re just saying that to impress me.” He laughs.
“Nope. It’s a real thing. Some of us are here because we want to be and because we worked hard to get here.”
His brows dip and his mouth twitches between anger and disappointment. The tick in his jaw is a pretty good indicator that he didn’t like what I just said.
“There are very few people on this floor, Ms. Moyer, who didn’t earn their place here. I gather from your tone a moment ago that you believe I am one of those people, and I assure you, I am not.”
I press my lips together, and when I have to take a deep breath to keep myself from apologizing like a crazy person or from spouting some smart-ass remark, my chest rises so dramatically, it draws his eyes.
Men.
“Believe it or not”—his eyes flicker to mine—“I enjoy this business and I think I’m really good at it.”
I’ll bet he’s good at a lot of things. And I’d like to try a few of those things right now, but that would defeat my whole goal of not imagining Maverick naked today. Which has failed twice now. Fuck.
My body and brain act like the damn battery ran down and everything but the sex button has forgotten how to function properly around him.
“All right then, since Austin is late, let’s get to work and we can catch him up when he gets here.” Yes, okay. I’m charged back up. I point to another seat for Maverick and then take my own when he stands. I wiggle the mouse to wake up my computer as I say, “I
did a little research last night, and from what I found, our radio company does the least amount of marketing of any radio station in town.”
Maverick unbuttons his coat and takes a seat in one of the chairs across from me. With one ankle crossed over his knee, he says, “Well, that would make sense on why they’re inquiring to hire with us. They need more advertisement.”
“More is the key word that doesn’t even fit. You have to have a little to need more, and they have none. They need their name out there, period. Their website says it’s invalid, probably the result of someone not renewing the domain name, and they don’t even have a Facebook page. Everyone these days knows that, as awful as Facebook is, it is one of the best tools for a business.”
I pull up the files I emailed myself last night after I got home from the bar. Sleep wasn’t easy once I dove into researching the station. I twist my computer to show Maverick.
“This row represents all the different ways we could market the company,” I point out. “And these columns are the leading radio stations in town. Each check mark applies to which types of advertising the companies use. If you notice, each one uses different ones and they only use about half the entire list. TACM could be the first to use 100 percent of the possibilities.”
I nod as I finish my mini speech. I know I’m smiling, too. The idea of helping a company get recognized and grow their fan base gets my blood pumping. And this spreadsheet is only the beginning
Maverick doesn’t say anything right away, and when I try to read his expression, I’m not sure what to make of what I see. He’s focused on me and not the screen, and his mouth is tugged to the side with a smile. Happiness comes to mind, but the swirling feeling his gaze sends to my lower stomach makes me think this look means something else entirely.
“You really were meant for this job, weren’t you?” he asks.
“Well, I didn’t take full course loads and more during spring, summer, and fall semesters till I graduated for nothing. This is what I want to do. I, too, think I’m really good at it, even if this is my first job. I like how it makes me feel. It’s exciting.”
“I noticed.” His words are deep as he leans forward. “I’m not so sure you’ll—”
“Good morning.”
We both jump at Austin’s greeting as he steps into my office.
“Sorry, did I catch you at a bad time?” He asks the question loudly enough for the both of us, but the stern look in his eyes is set on Maverick.
“No, Beth was just showing me the spreadsheet she put together last night on the different opportunities we have to advertise this company,” Maverick tells him.
Austin steps in close enough to get a look.
“Well done. It’s almost as good as the one I put together last night.”
“Really?” I ask. He did work? That surprises me, but it’s awesome. “Can you forward it to me? We could compare and then make a game plan from there.”
“Your list is already here.” He sighs and pulls out his phone. “I’m sure we can make one from that.”
My guess is he didn’t even do anything project related last night.
I chance a glance at Maverick, who is staring at Austin with a raised brow and annoyance written all over his face.
“The event center holds an annual Fourth of July fireworks show each year. They’ll need a radio station to host the event. This would be great exposure for TACM. I’ve already contacted the center and pitched the idea. I think we should go with a major social media target on this one.” Maverick directs his attention toward me. Austin is still on his phone.
“You pitched something for our client without us?” I ask. That’s bullshit.
Maverick tilts his head and shrugs. “I could have waited and there would have been a chance we’d miss our opportunity.”
“You should have discussed it with me or”—I look at Austin. Must be something damn good on his phone—“whoever before you made that decision.”
“I made the correct judgment in my choice to contact them.” Maverick’s voice is smooth and confident.
“Yeah, it was a genius idea, Maverick, but Bart mentioned his appreciation for teamwork not even twenty-four hours ago. Don’t you think you should show your respect to the way he runs his company and what he expects of his employees by putting in the effort he asked for?”
Maverick clears his throat and leans back, his eyes connecting with mine. “You are correct. My apologies. It won’t happen again.”
“Okay.” Shit, now what do I say? I was on a roll and he agreed and now … okay … I got this.
“Do you want to put together a Facebook page for them? Send out some ads? If we want the event center to choose them, we need to get their name in front of as many people as possible.”
“Yes, I’ll have it by lunch,” Maverick answers, and a giddy feeling fizzes in my gut. Despite him making a choice without me, it’s obvious we want the same things for our client.
“Could we go over the page and campaign idea after lunch?” I ask him.
“Works for me,” Maverick answers.
Well, these short answers are not my favorite.
“Yeah, not for me though,” Austin says. I almost forgot he was there. “I have appointments all afternoon.”
“Doing what?” Maverick asks.
“It doesn’t concern you.” Austin stands and heads for the door. Pretty sure his not being available for the team does, in fact, concern us.
“Tonight then?” I speak up. We have to work on this sometime, and if outside office hours is when he’s available, I’ll rearrange my schedule.
A grin that makes me shift in my seat and look away appears on Austin’s face. “Sure,” he says. “Seven o’clock? The steakhouse on Evans Street.”
“Okay,” I answer.
“This isn’t on your time, Austin.” Maverick’s stern tone is thick. “Don’t be late.”
“Right,” Austin says and is gone.
When Maverick turns back around, he gives me a sad attempt at a smile.
“I’ll get to work on that page, then, and see you tonight.”
I nod, watching him as he leaves. Working with these two is going to be a pain in my ass. Austin doesn’t seem to want to help with anything, and Maverick … well … he distracts my mind from work both in the fact that he looks good—god, that scruff is sexy—and because seeking out a venue for the station to host on a fucking holiday was a goddamn brilliant idea and I should have thought of it first. Ugh, I want him even more knowing he’s going to work just as hard on this as I am.
I’ve got this though.
I have to.
I need it.
Whatever it takes, I can do this.
* * *
The day passes quickly and I’m glad. Not meeting this afternoon to go over these first few steps of digital advertisement has cost us wasted work hours. That’s not something I enjoy.
I apply a gloss layer over my lips and grab my purse and coat before I head for the door. Coming back to my apartment for some downtime between work and this dinner meeting was a good idea up until the moment when I fought with myself to wear jeans instead of my work attire. The skirt and blouse won, again.
My cell buzzes inside my purse as I reach my car, and my brother’s name appears on the screen.
“Hey, Phil,” I greet him and turn the key.
“Beth, we need to talk,” he says.
“Oh it’s good to hear from you too,” I say.
“It’s about Mom.” He ignores my sarcasm.
“Of course it is.”
“Why aren’t you answering her calls?”
“Um, for the same reason I never do. So I don’t have to listen to her yell at me for moving to Wyoming with Dad as a kid. So I don’t have to listen to her talk shit on Dad. So I don’t—”
“Beth.”
“What?” I haven’t even pulled away from the curb. Whatever he is about to say, I assume I shouldn’t be driving when I hear it.
“There’s this job, in New York, and I think it would be great for me,” he says. He sounds hopeful, exactly like I used to about this marketing job.
“Okay, so what do you need to talk to me about?” I ask, even though I know. It’s the same reason he came here right before Christmas. He wants me to move and take care of Mom, in Montana. He’s been doing it for the last couple years. I know a good sister and a good daughter would drop everything to help family, but I just don’t think it would do her any good. She needs more help than Phil or I can give her.
“Take my place at Mom’s,” he says.
“I can’t.”
“Why? Because you have to sacrifice part of your life? What do you think I’ve been doing? It’s your turn, Beth.”
“Phil, you chose to take that responsibility on your own. I didn’t force you.”
“She needs us. She needs her kids.”
“No.”
“Beth, please. I don’t want her to go to some home. She misses you, and I’m almost convinced if you come home, things might change for her.”
“I can’t, Phil. Drop it.” My eyes burn as I snap at him.
“Can’t or won’t?” he asks. The line falls silent as he waits for answer.
“I just got this new job. I can’t leave now,” I tell him.
“So they offered it to you?” he asks, and despite our current topic, he actually sounds happy for me.
“Not yet. But I know they will.”
“And if they don’t?”
“I don’t know. Find another job.”
“You’re my baby sister, so I’ll make you a deal. You get this job, I’ll stay with Mom and we can consider a treatment facility for her. You don’t get the job, you take my spot and if she’s not improving after a year, we will reconsider our options.”
A tear breaks free. I want Mom to get better. I really do.
After the divorce, Phil was always the best brother even if we lived miles away. If I don’t get this job, the right thing would be to let him go for the one he wants. It’s only fair, right?
“Okay,” I tell him.
