When Darcy had nearly reached the group, the pinball’s notebooks spilled from his satchel to the sidewalk. She’d quickly bent down to help pick them up before they blew out into the street. Never one to hold her tongue, she’d stood and faced the bullies, calling them out for the jerks that they were.
Forgetting about the boy, they’d turned their taunts toward her. Somewhere between “fat cow” and “lard ass,” a shout had interrupted their squabble. She’d turned and there was Sean McKenna.
He had lean limbs and out-of-control shaggy blond hair, but even at ten years old, he’d been striking. And like she would come to see him do a million times after that day, he’d defused their little situation with quick wit and humor. He’d talked the little bastards into leaving Darcy and the pinball alone. He’d been a knight in shining armor that day, and at least in Darcy’s eyes, he had never stopped being that way.
###
“Who do you have lined up so far for the Wellington deal?”
Sean sat across his desk from his business partner, Michael Rolland, and riffled through the mess of papers in front of him. Sure, he knew that cleanliness was next to godliness, but he didn’t want to be godly. What was the fun in that?
“You should clean your desk,” Michael groused.
“Why? I know exactly where everything is.”
“Where’s the Wellington file?”
Sean scattered a few loose papers and files away before finally locating the one he was looking for. “Right here… where I thought I’d find it.”
Michael rolled his eyes. The man was thirty years Sean’s senior and a hardened veteran of the business. Sean had worked odd jobs for Michael while he was in college, and as a boss, he was insanely tough. But as a business partner? He was close to impossible. Luckily for Sean, the older man seemed to like him.
When Sean had graduated from Boston College, Michael had given him an offer he couldn’t refuse: Come to work as a fulltime contractor for him, and Michael would pay for his graduate degree.
How could he possibly turn that down?
Sean had busted his ass for two long years, working construction during the day while attending classes at night. He hadn’t thought he had it in him. But he’d proved himself wrong.
And the reward at the end of the longest fucking tunnel he’d ever crawled through? Besides a thin piece of paper saying he had an MBA, Michael had made him a partner. Guess his hard work paid off after all.
He flipped open the file and perused the papers inside. “Let’s see,” he began. “Contacted the Phillip Reed Architecture Firm in Cambridge, MA. Their brightest young talent, Rhys Clarke, will be the architect on the project. He’s got a staff of three junior architects, but he’ll be the lead.”
“I’ve heard of him. What about permits? Surveying?”
“Done. Talked with the city already about the permit timeline. They’d need to see the final plans first, but they gave me a rough estimate on how long it would take to get underway. Benny’s group is putting together an estimate for a site survey.”
Michael nodded. “I assume you’ve talked with Charlie about supplies?”
Sean tilted his head. “Told him to be prepared to quote a shitload of material.”
“Interior?”
“Hired a friend of mine. She’s out of Providence. Just started her own firm. The interior budget will be massive, but since she’s just starting out, she’ll be cheaper than some of the more established firms we’ve worked with in the past.”
“Name?”
“Darcy Owens. I went to grade school with her.”
Michael narrowed his eyes at Sean. “What do you mean by friend of yours?”
Sean laughed. “Friend as in we go way back. Childhood friends.”
Michael narrowed his eyes even more, until they were tiny slits lasering into Sean. “You sleep with her?”
Sean shook his head in disbelief. “You know, I don’t fuck everyone with breasts and two legs.”
“That’s not an answer,” his partner said with a raised eyebrow.
“No, I haven’t slept with her. She’s one of my really good friends. It’s not like that with Darcy.”
“Mmm-hmm.”
“Honest to God.”
Michael leaned back in his chair, studying him. Why was it so hard to believe that he had a friend who happened to be a girl, and he hadn’t slept with her?
Did he enjoy a bachelor’s life full of women? Sure.
Could he count on two hands and one foot how many women he’d slept with? Yes.
Was it possible for him to have a friendship with a woman without sleeping with her? Absolutely.
“Christ, man. If you only knew her like I do. You’ll see when you meet Darcy. It’s just not like that between us.”
Sighing, Michael stood up. “Whatever you say, kid. So what’s the plan? When and where do you need me for our meet-and-greet with the subcontractors?”
Shoving the paper back into the file and throwing it haphazardly on his mountain of an inbox, he pointed toward his partner and gave him a wry look. “Informal dinner tomorrow night at eight thirty. Think you can stay up that late, old man?”
Michael’s mouth pulled up on one side as he turned toward Sean’s office door. “See you tomorrow, smartass,” Michael muttered before walking out.
Chapter 3
“I’ll pick you up in about an hour and a half,” Sean said. “Does that work?”
Darcy wedged her cell phone between her ear and her shoulder as she unpacked her suitcase. She’d just arrived at her hotel room after checking in, and as promised, she’d given Sean a call.
“Yeah. You wanna meet in the bar?”
“God, yes. After the day I’ve had, I’m in need of a stiff drink,” he muttered. “By the way, the lead architect on our team is also staying at your hotel. His name’s Rhys Clarke. I’ll give him a call next and tell him the plan. I’ll tell him to keep an eye out for the woman at the bar who looks like a giant pain in the ass. That should help him zero in on you.”
“You’re such a jerk, Sean.”
“Hey now, none of that unprofessionalism. We’re working together now, remember?”
Darcy smiled, hearing the humor in his voice. “I can’t wait to watch you act professional. It’ll be a real eye-opening experience for me.”
“Watch and learn, Owens. Watch and learn.”
She laughed into the receiver as she slid her makeup bag onto the bathroom counter. “Seriously, though, how am I gonna know this architect? What’s he look like?”
Sean chuckled. “He’s an architect. Look for the guy with all the rolled up pieces of paper tucked under his arm and the pencil behind his ear.”
“Got it. Thanks for the tip,” she said sarcastically.
“Anytime, Darce. All right, let me give our guy a call. See you in a while.”
“Okay, bye,” she said before she cut the line.
Throwing her cell on the bed, she stood back and looked at her closet, where she’d just hung up all the shirts she’d brought. What did a girl wear to a meeting with a bunch of general contractors and architects?
She didn’t want to go too formal as she very much doubted they would be in three-piece suits. But she didn’t want to go too casual because she was, after all, the interior designer, and if she showed up looking like a lumberjack, they might have serious reservations about her sense of style.
She pulled out a bright blue, high-waisted pencil skirt, a silk black blouse, and a pair of black high heels. She’d tone down the makeup and tie the sides of her hair back to make sure her outfit wasn’t too over-the-top.
After a quick shower, Darcy quickly got ready, and with one last look in the full-length mirror to make sure nothing was hanging out where it shouldn’t be hanging out, she grabbed her black clutch and headed down to the lobby bar.
The bar was fairly empty for seven thirty on a Thursday evening. Darcy pushed herself up on a high stool and took a look around. The décor was ultra
modern in tones of muted grays and olive greens. High-backed stools lined the super-sleek bar, and tables dotted the floor. The lighting was low, making for an intimate atmosphere.
This was so not her scene.
She ordered a black coffee with a shot of whiskey. She wanted to be sharp tonight for the meeting.
Her nerves were starting to get the better of her as she tried to imagine how the evening would go. Even if she completely took Sean out of the equation, tonight was a big night. This was her first big gig. Big as in career-making big.
To have the opportunity to design an entire boutique hotel was a designer’s dream. If that didn’t make her palms sweat, bring Sean back into the picture, and she was a virtual sprinkler of anxiety.
He wouldn’t have asked you to help him if he didn’t think you could handle it.
This deal was just as big for Sean as it was for her. He wouldn’t have given her the job if he thought she’d fuck it up.
Taking a sip of her coffee, she decided she’d take her cues from Sean tonight. Even under the pressure, he would be calm and confident and funny and charming. She wasn’t sure she could pull off funny or charming, but calm and confident she could definitely do.
“Excuse me.”
Darcy looked up to find a man standing behind the chair to her left.
“Are you Darcy Owens?”
She nodded, putting her coffee on the bar. “Yes.”
He smiled warmly at her. “I’m Rhys Clarke.” He extended a hand to her. “I believe we’ll be working together on the Wellington hotel project.”
She took it and smiled. “Nice to meet you. Please have a seat.”
“I think I’d rather stand. It feels like I’ve been driving for days, even though I’ve only come from Cambridge. Traffic was a nightmare.”
He scooted the neighboring chair over so he could lean his rather wide frame against the bar. As he motioned for the bartender, she couldn’t help but notice the way the muscles in his shoulders flexed under his white dress shirt.
He didn’t have a pencil behind his ear or plan designs tucked under his arm. He looked nothing like any architect she’d ever seen before. In fact, he looked more like a tank with a powerful build and an angular jaw. His head was completely clean shaven, and his neck was so thick he wouldn’t have been able to button the top button on his shirt even if he wanted to.
“Is that coffee you’re drinking?” he asked, smiling, revealing straight teeth and eyes that crinkled at the corners.
She forced a swallow, tearing her eyes away from his dark brown gaze. Darcy had to admit she was slightly overwhelmed by his size and easy confidence. Rhys seemed to be like Sean in that he could walk into a room full of strangers and make friends with all of them.
“It is. I needed the caffeine.”
“Sean told me you’d probably be the only woman in the bar drinking a tumbler of whiskey.”
She smiled. “Decided to mix it up a little.”
“You better slow down there. Coffee?” He whistled sarcastically.
She laughed at his easy nature. Despite his giant-like proportions, he was very approachable.
The bartender set a pint down in front of Rhys, which he immediately picked up, finishing off a quarter of it. Darcy watched his throat work as he drank. Dear God, why did she keep staring at him?
“You’re nothing at all what I imagined,” she said, without any thought to how stupid it might sound.
He tilted his head to the side as he looked at her. “Oh, really? What did you imagine?” There was a smile playing at his lips.
She shrugged, raising her coffee mug halfway to her lips. “I don’t know. Not someone who looks like they could play fullback for the New England Patriots.”
He smiled outright. “Well, for what it’s worth, you’re nothing like what I was expecting either.”
“If you say I look like I could play fullback, so help me God, I’ll knock you on your ass.”
Rhys threw his head back as far as his meaty neck would allow and laughed. It was a deep, rumbling sound that made her smile.
“No, not at all. When Sean was describing you, he definitely didn’t do you justice.”
Darcy shook her head. Of course Sean hadn’t. How would a brother describe his kid sister? That’s probably how Sean described her.
But still, Rhys was an attractive enough man. The look in his eyes told her that he’d just given her a compliment, and it was much appreciated.
“How did Sean describe me?”
“He said you’d be the woman at the bar who looked like a giant pain in the ass.”
Now it was Darcy’s turn to laugh. “Well, you found me.”
She was still giggling when she felt the energy in the room change. All of a sudden, her skin started to tingle, and with it came the awareness that they soon would not have the far corner of the bar to themselves.
Because Sean had just walked in.
With one look at him, she completely forgot about the handsome man who was at that moment smiling at her like she was the loveliest thing this side of the Mason-Dixon Line.
Damn Sean McKenna. Damn him and his long, muscled legs that looked every bit as delectable in his dark-washed denim as his chest and arms looked in the button-up light blue shirt underneath his navy blazer.
If not for the hint of stubble on his jaw that caught the light as he passed by a low-sitting table lamp, he would have looked preppy. He looked rugged and masculine as he walked toward them. He left a ripple in the room with all female heads turning to follow his slow, sexy gait as he passed.
Darcy quickly pulled her eyes from him, zeroing in on her coffee, and took a long sip.
“Hey, hey,” came Sean’s smooth tenor. “Looks like you found each other without too much trouble?”
He stopped beside them and flashed a shit-eating grin. He reached out a hand toward Rhys.
“I’m Sean McKenna.”
“Rhys Clarke,” he said, taking Sean’s hand.
“Nice to meet you, Rhys. Glad to have you on the team. I think we really have a shot at this deal.”
“I hope so. I’m pretty impressed with the team you’ve assembled so far.” He flashed a grin at Darcy. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m gonna hit the restroom before we get going. I’ll be right back.”
They watched Rhys leave, his big body weaving through the tables in the bar that were starting to fill up.
Sean raised an eyebrow in question to Darcy. “What was that about?”
“Don’t ask me.” She shook her head before taking a sip from her mug. “Are you going to have a drink?”
He took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “Nah, I’ll wait till we get to the restaurant. I’m actually on time tonight for once in my life.”
Frowning, she looked down at her watch. “Actually, you’re ten minutes late.”
“That’s punctual in Sean Standard Time,” he teased.
He leaned his elbow against the back of her chair like he was ready to drop from the exertion of standing on his feet. He’d said earlier on the phone that he was having a rough day.
A complete stranger watching Sean at the moment would think he was fresh from an early evening nap and ready for anything. She, on the other hand, noticed that his smile didn’t brighten his eyes like it usually did.
Sean rarely had off days. Either that or he hid them well.
But he could never hide them from her.
“You okay? You look a little worse for wear.”
He chuckled. “God, it’s just been a long day. I wish you and I could blow off this dinner and go get shit-faced somewhere.”
“You wanna talk about it?”
He shook his head. “Thanks, but it’s not worth even getting into. Just work stuff.”
His day must have been pure hell for it to have affected him like this. It hurt her heart to see how weary he was. She often wondered what his life was like up here in Boston.
He’d gone straight to work after college, and that
pretty much ruled his life now. He had two roommates who, as unbelievable as it was, were bigger slobs than he was.
It was times like these that she wondered who he talked to when he had a rough day. Back in Ballagh, when they were younger, he used to vent to her. But who did he turn to now?
“Well, I’m here if you need to talk.” She smiled at him, hoping she was conveying her concern.
One side of his mouth twisted in a grin as he reached up and tugged on her ponytail. “I’m glad you’re here.”
At his words, she felt her pulse pick up in the base of her throat.
He would say things like that every once in a while. Things that made her believe for a split second that there might be some reciprocity in how she felt about him… that the gods were finally taking pity on her and unleashed Cupid to use Sean as target practice with multiple arrows with her name on them.
But just like those many times before when he told her things like “I miss you” or “What would I ever do without you, Darcy?” she quickly stamped down those hopeful feelings full of empty promises. He might have been glad she was there, but it wasn’t because he’d been waiting to confess his undying love for her.
“Sorry, you must be waiting on me to finish,” Rhys said as he returned, interrupting her thoughts. He reached past Sean to grab his half-empty glass and drained the rest of his pint in a matter of seconds. He pulled out his wallet and held some cash out to the bartender. “This should cover her coffee as well.”
Before the bartender could say anything, Sean chuckled and said, “Better throw a few more dollars on there, Rhys. I’d bet the bank there was whiskey in her coffee.”
When Rhys raised his brow in question to Darcy, she just smiled. He laughed and handed the bartender a few more bills before putting his wallet back in his pocket.
“And here I thought you were a cheap date.”
###
Sean could hardly wait as a waitress slid a mug of beer in front of him. He’d planned to make a cheesy toast. Ham it up with a sarcastic speech about destiny and stars aligning and shit. Something to break the ice to get the evening off to a good start. But he’d had a hellish day, and the second the perky waitress’s hand had left the glass, he had it against his lips.
Not In My Wildest Dreams (McKenna Series Book 2) Page 3
