by Deb Julienne
Frowning, she thrummed the doorjamb. Her brain engaged, wheels spinning. She gnawed on her bottom lip. “Can you elaborate?”
Shit, he hoped she’d figure it out on her own. What did he know of love? Everyone said he didn’t have a serious bone in his body. “How about for the first issue you have a series of personal interpretations from both men and women? Ask your friends and colleagues, for starters, what love means to them. Get examples. By the March issue you should have a better handle on the specifics.”
She relaxed. Shook a little less. “Okay, I can do that. And the other?”
“Well, this one is a bit harder. We have some ideas. However it will be up to you to define the final product.” His confidence slowly eroded. How was he supposed to impart any kind of wisdom when every time he looked at her all he wanted to do was kiss her? Something was definitely something wrong with her lips.
Sabrina licked her lips and crossed her arms. “What aren’t you telling me, Travis?”
“I’ve done some surveys on a website, privately, of course. The results show men want to be educated, more than ever, on what a woman wants sexually.” His voice had dropped to a whisper, and this from the man accused of being the family Casanova.
He had to undo another button or risk choking on his words. “Everything from finding her G-spot, which sexual positions bring the maximum heightened orgasm, to how to properly romance a woman.”
“Are you out of your ever loving mind? No way.”
Struggling to maintain his composure, he hid behind his notes, bit back a laugh, and took a deep breath. “Since it’s going to be the Valentine issue we have to pull out the stops and try to cover as many requests as possible. The titles of the two articles we want you to focus on for the next issue are Fourteen Ways to Better Sex and Finding her G-spot.” If it weren’t for Travis’ notes, he’d never have gotten through the last sentence.
Fantasies of Sabrina slammed him from every direction. While he loved the idea for the article and he was excited to see what she did with it, anxiety riddled his body. If he didn’t have some privacy soon he’d seriously lose it.
The blood left Sabrina’s face. She gave him a murderous stare and her lips trembled. “Please tell me you’re joking.”
If Sabrina quit, what would Kat say?
She wouldn’t say a word. Words weren’t necessary when Kat was on a rampage. Crap, that would send Travis back to the bottle. Screw that, the family would liquidate the magazine. The entire staff, out of work in this economy, all because of him.
Guilt riddled him. “No, I’m not. In fact, the marketing department has a million dollars budgeted for ads to show the changes we plan to implement. I’ll need you do a series of interviews to promote the upcoming issue. I have several scheduled myself on the local radio stations to discuss how we can make a primarily women’s magazine more versatile. We want to show men they’re just as important to us.”
The way she chewed on the inside of her cheek, lips puckered, made him want to kiss her fears away. She had the most voluptuous, kissable lips. Plump and full.
Up until now, he hadn’t given much thought to his attraction for her. Fantasies, oh hell, yeah, but he’d never really given attraction a thought. He’d always assumed guys were horny for anything to give them a rise. Now, he wasn’t sure.
“Fine. You’ll get what you asked for. Are we done?” She crossed her arms. Conversation over.
The memory of their first meeting collided with the image before him now. He suspected her world felt ready to implode around her, yet Sabrina was doing her best to figure it out.
His body tingled. His attraction grew by the minute, figuratively and literally.
Damn.
He was already starting to regret this arrangement. He wasn’t ready to deal with feelings. Not hers. And, most certainly not his own. “Are you busy tonight? Maybe we can go to dinner and discuss some of your concerns regarding your new role, and maybe you can show me around town?” He shouldn’t have asked. Travis wouldn’t have. He had to remember the situation and stop letting Trent take over.
Grimacing, Sabrina tensed and chewed a nail. “What about Kat?”
“Sorry, she’ll be in a meeting with legal. There are things she needs to finalize.”
“Oh.” She peered over her shoulder.
He sighed inwardly. It didn’t do much for his ego to acknowledge that she didn’t want anything to do with him.
Sabrina’s shoulders sagged.
He crossed his fingers under the desk and prayed she’d never find out the truth. His brother had flown to Palm Springs the night before, finally addressing his drinking problem, for the next thirty days. Head of the Board, and on all the family foundations, Travis was responsible for monthly updates. Travis would’ve considered this job a vacation. When it came to organization, Travis was the king.
He, on the other hand, was the court jester. “I’ve sort of stayed close to home, to help the family Board of Directors, and continue my education.”
“Oh, I see.” The tiny hitch in her tone clearly said she didn’t. The scowl disappeared. She inhaled deeply and tightened her fists, a bogus smile lit up her face. “Sure. Any place special you want to go?”
Damn, it was fun to watch her squirm. He contemplated how far he dare take this insane idea that began flickering in his head. “This is my first trip to California. Anything in the state is new to me. Where do you like to hang out?”
He was curious what she had in store for his dear brother—uh him.
“In that case, dinner is fine and we’ll play the rest by ear afterward.” Again, there was no excitement in her voice. But she’d do it, for Kat.
“Perfect. Oh, and one other thing, I’m bit on the bashful side so take it easy on me.” Trent gave her a wink.
Sabrina brows crinkled then she gave him a whatever gesture and said, “Yeah right, Travis. I’m such a wildcat. Me and my crazy parties. You’re lucky you caught me on a slow day. Sheesh, I’m not Kat. I usually hang out at home, sorry.”
“Oh really? I’m surprised. I figured if you’re a friend of Kat’s you’d be a party animal.”
“Good thing it’s you and not your brother, especially since he’s the one with the reputation of being a ladies’ man. The way I hear it, he could give Don Juan a few lessons.”
Trent dropped his feet to the floor and sat ramrod straight. His blood froze. Her simple comment had the effect of a bucket of ice water to the coach following a game win, only for him there was no joy for winning a game. Her words were similar to what the entire family believed of him.
He was nothing but a cartoon Casanova.
* * * *
Sabrina would have promised anything to get out of that room. She all but ran straight to her desk long enough to grab her make-up bag and Chapstick. By the time she made it to the bathroom, her face was red as her grandmother’s ancient scarlet lipstick. She felt like Goldie Hawn in the First Wives Club, stupid and convinced she was a failure as a woman. Now, all she needed to demean herself even more was for her lips to go numb and she’d start to drool.
Too bad she didn’t grab her deodorant. She definitely needed another application.
She soaked a paper towel and pressed it to her to her lips, the chill relieved the pain. After scrubbing her lips with soap and water to insure removing all traces of the oils, she realized what she’d done. Why had she said she’d take on the columns when it was obvious it was impossible? For about a half a second while she coated her lips with Chapstick she contemplated quitting, but she’d never been a quitter. And the Manolo’s were out. No promotion, no shoes.
Upon her return, she checked her messages. Sheila offered to teach her a few things. Yeah, like she was anxious for those lessons. The final message was Travis telling her when and where to pick him up.
She bit the bullet anyway and scanned the vamps past articles. She found a number of resources and plowed through them until lunchtime when she left to get some air. Only then she b
ecame consumed with guilt because Sheila was out of a job, at Christmas.
She spent the afternoon researching topics for the new series before tackling the vamp. When that meeting ended late in the afternoon, she came out of it needing a long hot shower.
Sabrina packed her briefcase, plastered a artificial smile on her face needing to feel in control and decided to make the best of things.
First her job, now dinner with the new boss. What next? On second thought, don’t ask. Fate was screwing with her big time and laughing its ass off.
Her confidence was shot. She needed to look her best for her first date in over a year, even if technically it was a business dinner.
Wisely, Sabrina selected long sleeved, V-neck, cashmere sweater dress. A Ralph Lauren original and a Christmas present from Kat the previous year. The cream color brought out the highlights in her auburn hair.
December in Sacramento was always chilly. At least the rain held off. Tonight she’d wear her black Italian D’Orsay pumps and after dinner see if Travis wanted to go to a show or possibly dancing. Not that she was really up for it, but under the circumstances she felt the need to be nice to the boss.
Jill had left a note on the fridge that she and Kat would be at the Metronome by eight. The message begged her to join them for once.
Jill had met Trent the same time she had. And like Kat, knew of her crush on the man. When she showed up with his brother, Jill would go nuts thinking it was Trent. She only hoped she was able to head Jill off before that embarrassing bit of show and tell cut loose.
While a part of her looked forward to the evening, somewhere deep inside remained disappointed it wasn’t Trent.
Travis had left the office the same time. Too bad he’d had to rush off. She’d have liked a chance to get out of having dinner. She hated when she felt the need to take the higher ground. Darn her sense of propriety.
Oh well, at least they were identical twins and not fraternal twins. Or with her luck these days she’d end up with Danny DeVito instead of Arnold Schwarzenegger.
God, how pathetic was that? Everything in her life had some distinct correlation to the mountains of movies she’d seen. It’d be nice if she finally got the happy ending instead of a disastrous one like a Nicholas Sparks story?
2
Sabrina parked in front of Travis’ townhouse. She set the brake and shouldered open her car door but had barely stepped out when a gust of wind blew it shut, smacking her butt catching her dress in the process. She managed to get the door opened but her dress had a grease stain and a small hole near the seam.
“Damn it, my favorite dress.” She rubbed her backside.
On the sidewalk snagged her heel on a broken crack and stumbled. She caught herself, didn’t go down, but her Italian pumps were now marred along the toe.
“What the heck?” She looked heavenward. Dread filled her as she took the steps in front of his place.
She knocked, holding her breath. His voicemail message said his car hadn’t been delivered yet, and he’d asked her to pick him up.
Rapid footsteps approached and she almost fainted when Travis stood before her. It was almost impossible to absorb he wasn’t Trent. The differences were minor. Both were devilishly handsome, well-muscled, and tall, easily over six feet. Trent didn’t wear glasses. Travis did. Trent parted his hair on the right, Travis on the left. Trent was a GQ man, while Travis was conservative and old world. He wore a charcoal suit with a matching vest and thin dark gray tie complete with the old-fashioned pocket watch chain draped across the front.
She clasped her hands in front of her and tried not to stare. “Ah—H—Hi, Travis. Are you ready to go?”
Travis took her by the elbow and her heart skipped a beat. Enough heat emitted through his fingers to start a forest fire. “I sure am. I hope you don’t feel as if you’re babysitting me tonight.”
“Well, if this is babysitting then I’m going to charge you double. The last time I babysat kids were a whole lot shorter.”
As his laughter rumbled out, she melted like a Hershey bar on a hot summer day. What was it about a man with a deep husky voice that sent her off the deep end? His laughter was much like Trent’s the day they’d met in the pool, but Travis’ had a richer tone. His grin spread across his face, she couldn’t tear her eyes from his lips. Were they as soft and inviting as they looked?
If she didn’t stop letting her mind wander she’d soon be ready to go home and take a cold shower. She’d heard that worked for men when they’d become overly stimulated. And right now she was so over the top it frightened her. It was a good thing he wasn’t a mind reader. She’d be in trouble. He’d head right back inside to avoid an attack by some lunatic. She forgot where she was. “Are you ready to go?”
“You already said that.” Even through his glasses, his dark chocolate brown eyes twinkled. When he smiled, twin dimples marked his grin. Perfect white teeth made her think of John Stamos and his dazzling smile.
She immediately forgot almost all she knew of his brother. “Sorry.”
He opened the door and handed her into the driver’s seat,
His touch sent a vibration through her like a car on bad gas. How it was possible two such gorgeous men walked the face of the earth and turn her on like that? At least he was a gentleman. Still, it felt funny to be driving her boss around.
God, if you’re listening, please get me through the evening without waking to find out it’s only a dream. And not another living nightmare.
* * * *
The hushed and cozy atmosphere of the steak house put Trent immediately at ease. No wonder it was so popular. Once their orders were placed and drinks served Trent leaned back and admired Sabrina across the table. “This was an excellent choice. Do you eat here often?”
“Only on special occasions.” Sabrina’s gaze continued to scan the room as if searching for something or someone, but he suspected it was to avoid eye contact.
“Like what?
“Oh, you know, birthdays and stuff like that.” Her monotone response left him cold. She turned and waved to someone. She looked as if she’d rather go visit but turned back and fiddled with her drink.
He let out a ragged breath and sat up straight trying to remember all the social graces that came natural to Travis. He made every attempt to unwind and enjoy the end of what started as one hell of a rocky day. Sabrina’s avoidance grated on him. There had to be a way to engage her. Was he playing his brother a little too well?
Travis was a known snob. That he credited to their mother, a lifetime of brow beating for the sole purpose of learning proper social graces did that to a person. And Travis was all about appearance. Trent lacked the social etiquette, by choice, he didn’t give a flying fart about appearances. It was more about being true to himself, not behaving like a snob.
“So, what do you do for fun, Travis? I heard you’ve been busy with the family foundations.”
He froze. Hadn’t anticipated any questions since she seemed uninterested. Back to being Travis. “Yes, yes I was. Very successfully, too, I might add.”
“I guess I figured since you already had a job Trent would have been a better choice of manager for Skin Deep.”
Funny, how the family thought so, too. He’d even offered. The family agreed. Then Travis overrode him and volunteered himself. He was still pissed that the family allowed Travis the ultimate decision. “Trent?” He tried to imitate Travis’ controlled diarrhea chortle, as he thought of it. He had a devil of a time keeping in character with his brother. “Trent wouldn’t know where to begin. He’d look at this as an opportunity make conquests, not make a profit.”
“Really?” She sounded incredulous, looked disappointed. Her face was expressive, from the wrinkle above her nose, the angle of her raised brow, even the way her lips thinned.
“Oh yes. We’re constantly extricating him from, well, situations. There was this Swedish tennis player a few years ago, but you don’t want to hear about her.” He had no intention of tellin
g her about Olga, who had chewed him up and spit him out, brokenhearted. “Besides, Trent wouldn’t have been happy in this tiny burg.”
“And you are? I’d think Sacramento is a huge switch from the quiet sophistication of Boston.”
“Oh it is. I’ll simply endure.” He lifted his nose as Travis was prone to, and yet the second he did, disapproval covered her face. Travis really was an arrogant jerk.
Travis, damn his hide. He was probably in a bad mood, missing his needy girlfriend, missing his big corner office, and cussing a bloody blue streak because he was locked up tight for the next thirty days in a real prison of his own making. And scared shitless Trent would fuck up and they’d all be screwed.
Yet, his brother had taken the biggest leap of faith with this one last switch. He didn’t envy his brother one bit.
“Travis? Is everything okay?”
“I’m fine, thinking of the family.” He visualized Travis making the comment, that exact way, making a complete fool of himself in front of Sabrina. “I don’t usually leave them for long, but the folks insisted I get away. They suggested I take this time to try to save the magazine. I’m the only one who can.”
Trent had left the east coast for good when Travis turned into a Grade A supercilious society snob. It had driven him nuts to watch Travis push up the family food chain because he was older by a lousy five minutes. Big brother could keep it all. He’d rather make it on his own, thank you.
“That was nice of them. How long has it been since you’ve seen Trent?”
He took a piece of warm bread from the basket, poured oil and balsamic vinegar on a plate. If he were Travis, there was only one option. To make himself look bad in Sabrina’s eyes. He tore off a piece of bread, dipped it, swirling the oil mixture and took a bite even as he planned his own demise.
“I haven’t seen him for two years. He was either in New York or abroad, gallivanting all over creation. It’s a good thing I’m here to take over.” Trent hoped his word choice and cynical tone took on Travis’ irritating persona with just the right insipid flare. “If Trent were at the helm, the magazine would end up with the look and feel between Mad Magazine and Hustler.” He took another bite contemplating how far he dare besmirch his own image. “It will take some serious hard work and Trent wouldn’t know where to start. I mean, can you imagine Trent working for a woman’s magazine? He’d use it as a chance to pick up women. Nothing more.”
