by Deb Julienne
“Of course not.” Her scowl and flared nostrils said it all.
Damn, she was cute when she was pissed. Too bad he was flustered as well. And he knew it wasn’t cute on him. “I’m sorry Sabrina. I didn’t mean to make you angry again, but you brought up Trent”
“Only as a point of reference.”
He felt like a heel. “I don’t feel like I can really be myself.” No shit.
“All right, but I’m warning you that’s twice you’ve apologized tonight. One more time and I’ll turn you into a rutabaga.” She grinned.
“Duly noted.” He managed to choke out a hint of laughter, sat back and gave her questions sincere merit.
Sabrina picked up her pen and notebook.
“I like an educated woman, but not one who feels she has to share every painful detail of her knowledge. One who’s confident and doesn’t have to constantly be flattered. She can take the teasing and give it right back.” He managed to remain in true Travis form with the formal gestures, even as he shared his own likes and dislikes.
She flopped back on the couch. “How come that works for you? I like the exact same things in a man, and yet it always turns out as disastrous as my beauty aids gone awry.”
“Excuse me. I think I missed something here.”
She blushed then exhaled. “Let me give you an example. My job as the beauty editor for the magazine has changed from when I first began. Originally, Kat hired me to help women find beauty secrets that really work. Unfortunately, magazine sales are more about advertising than the articles. Well, according to the accountants, that is.”
He’d met the accountants and she was right on the mark.
“For me though, it’s different. I started with the products we advertised in our magazine and rated them. Unfortunately, a few of our clients didn’t like the results I published and pulled their ads. The bean counters won.” She shrugged. “I guess you could say I’m a bit to blame for the loss of a few of our advertisers.”
“You’re not to blame if the products don’t do what they advertise.”
“I agree. I had to change my approach and went for a more logical path. That’s when my section started to get tons of fan mail with questions about the various brands of cosmetics and skin care paraphernalia. Women wanted a natural look.”
There was no denying she was passionate about her job.
“They were fed up paying exorbitant prices at specialty stores for their daily needs. Due to the myriad requests for natural beauty aids, I started to research further and offered recipes made at home from of basic household products. We gave them cheaper products with better results.”
“Nice.” Subscription sales didn’t lie. She was one savvy woman.
“You see, I know what it’s like to have so little money. I have to make every penny count. I work with a local health food store manager to find alternatives.”
“No wonder Kat kept you around.” He was thoroughly and completely impressed. She’d worked hard to come to her conclusions and turned her job around, made it more personal. He wanted to see how she’d manage her current assignment. She’d find a way. No doubt in his mind.
“Well, not always. Remember the day we met? Well, I’d expected Kat to give me a promotion. So, in preparation for my big moment I applied a lip gloss recipe I hadn’t pre-tested.” She smiled sheepishly.
“I don’t see the problem.”
She held up a finger. “Oh, you will. The recipe called for one part petroleum jelly, two parts melted paraffin wax, and one drop of jalapeno oil extract. I didn’t have the extract so I crushed a hot pepper in my garlic press. Since my lips are usually deathly pale, I added two drops instead. What a mistake.” She threw up her hands. “One drop was even too much. I’d have been better off if I’d have added a drop of cinnamon oil only I didn’t want the scent to overwhelm my perfume.”
If he bit his lip any harder he was going to draw blood. Was it tears from the pain or humor that blurred his vision?
“I waited until I got to work to put the new gloss on. The idea behind the recipe is for oil to work with the body’s own blood circulation. Your lips are supposed to show a naturally shiny red shade, not the faux colors women use these days.”
“And?” He had to ask.
“Instead, my lips started to swell and burn right when I was supposed to meet with Kat.” She rolled her eyes and shook her head. “I foolishly believed I got off lucky because I was only to meet with Kat. Then in you walked. I wasn’t at my best. The fumes made my eyes water and my nose run. I had to get out of your office. I even made up the excuse that I had an interview in order to get to the bathroom and wash the stuff off.”
Unable to refrain from laughing, he covered his mouth then snorted as his laughter grew.
“Oh yeah, go ahead and laugh. It wasn’t your lips that mutated like a collagen treatment gone wrong.” She tried to stifle her own giggles. Her snicker turned to laughter. Everything regarding that morning came back in earnest. The more she spoke, the more she lit the room. The more she touched her lips during the telling, the more he wanted to kiss her.
“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to laugh, but do I remember. I had you pegged as just coming from some hot and heavy make out session.”
“I wish—I mean—ah—oh screw it. I give up.” She closed her eyes then dropped her hands in defeat. “I’m sure you already think I’m a complete lunatic.”
Sabrina replayed every sordid detail of the entire episode. By the time she finished, they’d fed off each other’s laughter until they were both holding their sides. The sight of her having to wipe away tears charmed the hell out of him even more. He could get used to her sexy laugh.
“Enough of your experiments, I don’t think I can take any more tonight. What about you? What do you want in a man?” He wiped his eyes.
She rested her head on the back of the couch, appearing completely relaxed.
“Like you, the first thing I notice is a man’s sense of humor. I love the lilt of a sexy laugh.” She sat up, and turned sideways on the couch. “Did you ever notice when you meet people, the ones who have the wrinkles on the outer side of their eyes are the ones who have the best sense of humor, and the ones who have the wrinkles between their eyes tend to be the grouchy ones?”
“Yes, I have.” Her description nailed Travis to a tee. The lines between his eyes were so deep it made him look like a constipated Grinch at Christmas time. “What else?”
How did any guy miss what a treasure she was? The guys she’d dated must have been morons to give her such a line.
A line. That’s what it was. She had made them so comfortable in her presence they didn’t feel right proceeding with their agendas to get laid. Sabrina was wife material and they weren’t ready. It was a crazy male code of honor? Yeah, now that made perfect sense.
“The crummy thing is a man gets to call his wrinkles laugh lines, whereas on a woman they’re referred to as crow’s feet. I mean, how unfair is that?”
Her keen sense of humor was beyond inspiring. He didn’t bother to stop the fire she incited within him. “Keep talking.”
“I like a man who can laugh at himself. I’m constantly making mistakes or putting my foot in my mouth. And at times I wish I could take the words back, but you can’t. The only alternative is to laugh at yourself, because Lord knows crying isn’t an option”
Though he hadn’t planned to imitate his brother again, he hated the idea of not seeing her over the weekend. Under the pretext of helping her figure out how to take on her new challenges, he had the perfect excuse to find out more about her or at least be around her.
“I know what you mean. I don’t always say the right thing either.” Her company more than made up for the crap he’d dealt with at work today. The only problem with this scheme was the more he learned the more he liked her, and the less he wanted it to end.
“At least you admit it. It’s a start.”
“I beg your pardon.”
“You know wha
t I mean.”
“Relax. I’m just teasing you. What else?” Standing, he removed his jacket. He swiped off his tie, tucked it in his pocket, rolled up his sleeves and sat beside her.
“I don’t know. Like I said, I don’t have much experience in dating so I can’t make any other comments or judgments. I think I’d like to be romanced. Then again, I’m not sure what ‘being romanced’ is. I like it when a man holds the door for me and pulls out my chair. I’m definitely not into women’s lib. I like feeling special.”
“So you’re a girlie girl.” He said with an Arnold accent, making her laugh. He was playing a deadly game and not just with her, but with his own feelings as well.
“Yeah, I guess I am for the most part. Why? Do you have a problem with it?”
“Just checking. Tell me what you’d like in a man and a date?”
Sabrina tucked her foot under her knee. “Let me see.” She rested her elbow on the back of the couch and tucked her palm against the side of her face.” Okay, I want to be treated like a woman, not a brainless twit. I like myself. I have fears and I’m a bit self-conscious. I’m not mean-spirited or vindictive. I’m okay in the looks department and that’s fine with me. I don’t want a man to put me on some pedestal and not let me be me.”
He wanted to see her blush again. “Ah, I understand. I promise not to think of you as a goddess worthy of praise.”
“Well, you don’t have to go that far. Maybe a smidgen of praise would be nice.” She held her hand to show her thumb and forefinger barely an inch apart. And her blush was back.
Her laughter made him smile. “Deal. A little praise. Perfect manners. An enjoyable evening. What are you doing tomorrow night? I’ll see if I can’t deliver on your request.”
“That’s sweet of you, Travis. Are you sure you want to go through the hassle for me? I’m mean, you’re my boss. Taking over the magazine will be no easy feat. Please don’t feel like you have to do this. It’s not up to you to help me figure out my new job.”
“Forget about the job for now. Tell me more about you.” Damn, he didn’t want to admit it, how easily he was falling for her. Then what? If he did, they’d both be out of a job.
“What do you want to know?”
One month. He had to survive one lousy month of this crazy pretense as his brother. Sabrina made it harder and harder to do by the moment. He owed Travis. He owed the family. He even owed Kat. He’d promised not to hurt Sabrina.
“The little things. What makes you laugh? What makes you mad? What are your pet peeves?” Honestly, he had no intention of hurting her. All he had to do was pull off their little con until Travis took control of the magazine and he and Sabrina could continue what they had. He’d tell her what he’d done for his brother and albeit she might be a bit upset at first, surely she’d see clear to give him a second chance. He was counting on her crush for him to be too strong not to forgive.
“I’m basically a happy person. According to Kat and Jill my goal in life is to look for the best in people. I don’t get what’s so wrong with truly believing everyone has some good in their hearts?”
“Nothing’s wrong with it. Anyone who can see the good in Trent—forget I said that. So what makes you mad?” But what if she didn’t? Hadn’t she poured her guts out to him of her feelings for Trent. The real him.
“People who pick on others.”
“I walked right into that one, didn’t I?”
“Your foot, your mouth, enjoy the swallow.”
As long as he continued the charade he had the best of both worlds. And if she started to take it too seriously, he’d deal with it. Darkness plagued his mind. Time to change the subject, again. “Pet peeves.”
“Glass rings on the coffee table.”
“Really. That’s it?”
“What can I say? I’m a happy person.” She toyed with a hangnail. “By the way, do you plan to stay on once the magazine turns around?”
Shit. Why’d she have to ask? “I sincerely don’t know at this point. Maybe I’ll discover I like it so much I can’t leave. I figure a year max. I guess we’ll see what happens. As long as I’m here, I’d love it if you’d be my first friend. I promise to curtail my comments about my brother. I’ll be the very essence of a perfect gentleman. What do you say?”
“Why? What do you have in mind?”
“We can go to dinner and maybe take an evening ride through the park. Kat tells me it’s beautifully decorated this time of year and they offer horse-drawn carriage rides as well as hot refreshments. Let’s enjoy ourselves and we’ll do whatever we want.”
The desire to change the subject had him searching the room for a different topic, only his gaze landed on the books on her end table. God help him he picked one up. The images he’d conjured up of Sabrina in any number of positions cut off his ability to swallow, he had to cough his lust away or he’d do worse than blush. Wishful fantasies raced through his mind teasing and tantalizing him.
* * * *
Thoroughly embarrassed, Sabrina grabbed the book from Travis and threw it behind the couch “Oh God,” she whispered through a fake smile.
The last thing she wanted to do was give him the wrong idea. Especially when she had no foggy freakin’ idea what kind of information the books offered. If Travis’ expression held a clue it was definitely more than she wanted to know. “How about a movie?”
“Sure, why not. What do you have?”
“The lady at the video store recommended a couple.” Sabrina handed them to Travis. “You choose.”
“More homework. Details please,” he asked, unable to disguise how humorous he found the situation.
“It’s for the articles on love.”
“And—”
“What is love? I really don’t know. I asked for romantic love stories.”
“Let’s see what you have.”
She handed him the jackets.
“You realize, her suggestions are subjective? Right?”
“Why is that a problem?”
“Not a problem, just one person’s perspective. How do you know that any movie she finds romantic is going hit that same note in you? I mean, Bogie is great in anything, but that’s not my idea of a romantic movie. As for this,” he said holding up the other jacket, “it’s cute, cheesy, definitely a love story, but not the best there is.”
“Then what would you have chosen?”
“Officer and a Gentlemen, Rocky, and maybe Top Gun.”
“Oh come on, I agree Officer is pretty good, but Rocky?”
“Yo, Adrian. Come on…it’s a classic.” His impression of Stallone sucked, but he couldn’t help but make the attempt.
“Classic guy movie, not love story.”
“What’s wrong with Top Gun?” he asked.
“That was more about him and his journey, not a love story.”
“Then how come you had to ask for suggestions?”
“I know what touches my heart, but who’s to say it does the same for anyone else.”
“Exactly my point.” He opted for Bogart and Hepburn in The African Queen followed by Hugh and Julia in Nottinghill.
The movies were classics she’d seen over and over through the years, always from the vantage point of mindless entertainment. Maybe that’s because before she had viewed them with her brother, Nickie, who wanted only to be amused. She’d never delved deep in the plots, the love stories.
Her focus now was on the defining poignant moments of each. What an eye opener. She wasn’t impressed by the first movie. The second however left her feeling as if she finally knew what love was all about. Unfamiliar emotions stirred deep inside her when Hugh’s character admitted he’d made a mistake and groveled for her to give him a second chance.
With Travis beside her and their conflicts long gone, she watched with a new perspective. One of hope. She imagined the possibilities. Somehow she just couldn’t imagine Travis groveling. She was glad he hadn’t paid attention as she wiped a lone tear away.
“What
did you think?” Travis asked as he stood.
“That leech scene grossed me out, but I really liked Nottinghill.”
“You’re such a chick.”
“Duh.”
“Uh—it’s getting late and I have an early day tomorrow.”
When she stood and followed him to the door, their arms brushed sending a jolt through her, head to toe.
He drew her into his arms. “Thank you for a lovely evening.”
She waited, her heart beating faster, willing him to kiss her.
He kissed her all right. He kissed her forehead then left. Which was as bad as being referred to as a guy’s kid sister.
She’d almost shut the door when Travis leaned in to stop her.
He pulled a notebook from his jacket pocket, tore off a sheet, and wrote on it. “If for any reason you want to get in touch with me, here’s my cell phone number. You can reach me any time of the day.” He pressed the paper to her hand and walked into the night.
Here she was a relatively attractive woman and the best she’d ever got was a kiss on the forehead. How pathetic. She declared herself a complete and utter failure to the female sex.
4
Saturday morning Sabrina lay the magazines she’d bought on the floor, three rows, five across, and glared at the covers, unable to relate to a single one of them. The problem was not so much about her or even her inexperience, but who was she in the new order of things at Skin Deep.
Jill stumbled out of her bedroom, yawned and ruffled her hair. “What the hell are you doing?”
“Trying to get some perspective on my new job. I don’t have much time left to get a handle on the new article lines.”
“How are all these magazines supposed to help you?” Jill asked, pouring herself a cup of coffee.
“I’m not sure yet, but I’m looking for answers.”
“To what?” Jill stood behind her looking over her shoulder.
“To figure out how I’m expected to offer any kind of help.”
Jill moved to the couch, set her coffee cup down. “I’m lost.”
“How do you think I feel?” She looked up from the mess on the floor.
