by Kris Jayne
Chapter Five
Monday morning started with its usual harried intensity. Micky woke up early to prepare for a 6:00 a.m. conference call and then headed into the office.
Her company planned to launch a new document management software and mobile application at the annual conference for their sales team and distribution partners in Paris. Between the early morning calls with French colleagues in the corporate office and the meetings with her creative agency on the West Coast, she worked from six in the morning to eight at night practically every day. By noon, it already felt like Tuesday.
"Is it me, or does it feel like we're constantly cramming two days of work into one?" Taryn asked, walking into Micky's office and sinking into a chair.
"Maybe just consider it living life to its fullest?" Micky responded ruefully.
"Oh, is that what it's called? I thought it was just mind-numbing stress. I woke up yesterday mumbling something about PowerPoint. Jeff thought I was losing my mind."
Micky laughed. "I know. But just think, in a month, we'll be in Paris, and this will all be behind us. I plan on taking some serious time off."
The phone rang, and Micky turned to see who was calling—Winston Stratford, the caller ID revealed—Nick Halden's law firm. Sitting up straight, she breathed deeply to settle her twisting stomach and picked up the phone.
"Azur. This is Micky Llewellyn."
"Micky, hello. Nick Halden. Is now a good time?"
"As good a time as any. How are you?" Taryn mouthed the words, "Who is it?" Micky just smiled at her.
"Great. I hope you made it to your dinner on Friday without any other problems."
"I did. Thank you. I got my battery replaced Saturday morning. All is well." Taryn just stared at her, getting more and more curious as it became clear the call wasn't business.
"Perfect. You sound busy, but I'm hoping you have time to meet for drinks tonight."
All weekend Micky thought about what she was going to say when Nick called. Although Lila wasn't the most reliable source, her declaration that he was practically engaged had the ring of truth. She wanted to nip things in the bud if he wasn't honest with her, but at the same time, Nick had seemed very straight forward when they met.
Maybe she'd just been too gaga to pay proper attention, or maybe he was a rake—her favorite old-timey word for men who misbehave. He was certainly rich and successful enough to be a rake. And, Lord knows, he was sexy enough. It wouldn't be her first rakish man.
In the end, she figured she'd just meet him for drinks and ask him straight up about his situation. If it went no further, it went no further.
"Sure. I do have to work a bit late, but I should be able to get out of here by six thirty or so." Taryn was practically falling off the edge of her seat.
"Okay, so how about meeting at seven thirty? Have you ever been to Andy's Pub? I've heard good things, but I've never tried it. We could have dinner."
Before her recent spate of work, Micky and her girlfriends lived at Andy's Pub. Hell, several years ago, she'd gone on a few dates with Andy—the owner and bartender extraordinaire. Their fling had ended amicably, and she was still a sucker for his perfect martinis. That would be perfect. Andy's is like her home turf.
"I've been there a time or two. It's a nice spot. Seven thirty it is."
"Looking forward to it."
"See you then," Micky replied and they hung up. She turned her attention to Taryn. "Did you get the shipping list from Ben?"
"Oh, hell no," Taryn interrupted. "That sounded like you were arranging a date with—correct me if I'm wrong—Mr. Possibly Engaged, Sexy Jump Starter. You haven't had a date since the cheating idiot, and you're going out with someone of questionable status?"
"Not true. I've had dates, but this isn't exactly a date. I owe him a drink."
"Of course, it's a date. It's an excuse to finagle a date. And what dates have you been on? When have we even had time to go out? The only way you met him is he works in the building. Perfect. Since you practically live here."
Micky wanted to argue with Taryn about that last bit, but knew she couldn't. With the launch coming up, she'd been working long hours, and even when she did manage to get out of the office, she worked at home. Although she went on a date as recently as about a month ago, she hadn't been excited about a date in a long time. That scared her. Up until a year ago, she had indeed been thoroughly in love with a cheating idiot.
While Eric was flying into Dallas and hinting about their future, her ex had been carefully concealing a wife and young son in Chicago. It wasn't until she'd received a hysterical 2:00 a.m. call from a woman asking whether she was sleeping with the woman's husband that she'd had any idea.
She never even said goodbye to Eric. She mailed the few things he had in her house—clothes, DVDs, a razor—to his Chicago office with instructions that if he ever contacted her again, she'd geld him. He didn't. Even that was a kick to the gut. Explaining the sudden disappearance of her perfect boyfriend to her family had been an extra embarrassment.
Lila had shaken her head and given her a pitying look. "Really, Micky. You must take the time to examine a man's pedigree. You can't go tangling up with just anyone."
Eric hadn't felt like just anyone. Micky was swept up in the excitement and comfort of Eric's swooping into town with bottles of great wine, cooking her dinner, and spending quiet evenings together in bed. For the first time in her life, she opened herself to someone as completely as she knew how. Catastrophe followed. She remembered the panic and desperation in Eric's wife's voice. The blame.
Micky felt sick that even now she felt a small twinge of longing. The more her stomach tumbled at the thought of Nick Halden, the more the mistrust crept in. Other than Tony—who'd introduced Eric—Taryn was the only person at work who knew the story about Micky's affair.
"It's a 'thank-you' drink. That's it. And, well, dinner."
"And dinner, huh? But it's nothing, and you're not sure you can trust him. Why go at all?" Taryn asked.
"Because who knows. Lila could be wrong. I'll look him right in the eye and ask him. If I get a hint of deception, he may not even get the free drink."
"I knew you were interested in him. You get this look I haven't seen in years."
"I don't know. He is appealing," Micky admitted, throwing up her hands. "Enough of this. We've got work to do."
The rest of the day flew by and by six forty-five, the only thing standing between her and her non-date with Nick was a last minute meeting with her boss, Ben Russo.
She grabbed her bags and stopped by his office on her way out. He looked up when she rapped on the door and waved her in.
"Close the door," he ordered. Micky did and sat down, picking an imagined speck of lint from her skirt. She and Taryn sent him an update via email as he'd requested. They were on track budget-wise. Rolling through every aspect of their current project, Micky couldn't think of any issue that would have her before the firing squad in his office.
"Did you get our budget file? Things are shaping up," she said, infusing her voice with optimism.
"I got it. It looks good. There's no problem," he said with a wave of his hand. "I have good news."
Micky looked at him expectantly, but said nothing.
"What I'm going to tell you needs to stay between you and me. Only a handful of people know what's happening, and we need to keep it that way until our announcement at the Paris event."
Micky furrowed her brow. "The launch? There are already whispers about that in the trade press."
"It's more than the new software. We have our first customer…of sorts. We've signed on a new resale partner, Midsummer Tech.
"They're big. And we compete with them in some lines of business."
"Yes and no. Our products overlap with their low-end, but there's some synergy there. Lots of synergy. They're looking to come down market. We're looking to grow. Together we'll integrate our products for the mid-market, approaching these customers together. More importan
tly, they have a bigger presence in the U.S. We've been struggling lately to get profitable here, and corporate has reached a tipping point. It's either grow our customer base in North America, or trim staff here. This partnership with Midsummer has to be successful. If things go well, we could merge."
"I knew we had some growth issues, but I didn't know we'd reached the point where we might have layoffs. We just finished three acquisitions," Micky countered. Azur had already combined the staff from the different companies and trimmed the payroll.
"Not 'might.' Will. And it won't be small cuts. They could close the office here and manage everything out of France with a few virtual employees. The next year is critical," he explained.
Micky bounced her leg vigorously as she tried to hold her exasperation in check. They'd acquired the new companies to get customers, and yet, a sword still swung over their heads.
"You can understand why we can't have our entire employee base knowing about this. People tend to panic and stop doing their jobs when they think a change like this is coming. We have to keep everyone calm," Ben said. And in the dark, Micky thought.
"Where do I come in?"
"I need someone on the team to take point on working with Midsummer and coordinate with them for the event. You'll attend the planning meetings with me and work with their marketing and PR people on joint activities. They'll need to attend our VIP sessions, present to our top partners, and all of that. I need someone strategic and discreet. That's you."
Micky sat up straight, her mind racing with ideas even as the consequences of failure infused her with tension. She and Taryn could knock this out of the park. She only hoped Taryn would be involved.
"I've been working very closely with Taryn. Can I bring her into this? She's handling the detailed logistics. It may be difficult if she doesn't know another company is involved."
Ben cast his eyes heavenward and tapped his hand on the desk before he finally shrugged.
"You can let her know they'll be attending as a new partner, but that's it. We want to keep the full picture under wraps. I hope that won't be a problem."
It would be. She and Taryn worked well together because everything she knew, Taryn knew, and they split the duties. Her boss steadied his gaze on her.
"No. Not a problem. Thanks for the opportunity." Tamping down Taryn's inevitable suspicion would be the hard part. Taryn had a nose for plots, but Micky would make it work—somehow.
"You're my top performer. I know you'll get the job done. This project will position you very well with Midsummer's leadership team. If the acquisition goes through, that can only be good for you," he said.
Her boss gave her a few more details and emailed her some documents she'd review tomorrow to catch up. Micky exhaled as she walked out of Ben's office. Working on this kind of project could put her in line for a promotion. Even if the acquisition didn't happen, she knew her boss had his eyes on a vice president position, which would leave a vacancy behind him. Higher position, more money. All upside for Micky if she could swing it.
Her nervousness over the top-secret project collided with her apprehension over meeting Nick for drinks, sending her toward the elevator in a daze. Maybe she should cancel the evening with Nick and get her bearings. She didn't need distractions.
The vision of Nick's white smile and sparkling green eyes floated in her head. Micky dismissed the image and swept away any future expectations. She'd meet him for dinner and keep her wits about her.
Brittany, the receptionist, stood waiting in the lobby outside the frosted glass doors that lead to their offices.
"Leaving already?" Brittany asked her. The chatty young woman knew everyone's business. "There might still be daylight."
"I know. For once, I'm getting out of here before the cleaning crew shows up," Micky replied as the elevator doors opened.
"Micky. Heading out?" Nick Halden stood in the elevator with his suit jacket and tie tossed over his muscled arm. His crisp white shirt was open at the neck and perfectly tailored with the sleeves casually rolled up and no doubt concealing a monogram. He looked powerful and confident, but relaxed. Wits, wits, wits. She repeated the mantra to herself as she followed Brittany onto the elevator.
"Hi, Nick. Yep. Trying to get out of here." Brittany eyed Nick the way a dog stares down a pork chop and then slid her stare over to Micky. "I have an engagement this evening."
"Hot date?" Nick asked with a sideways smirk of amusement. Micky sighed in relief.
"We'll see," Micky answered.
"Lucky guy." Nick responded, turning his head to glance at her. Brittany, who stood on the other side, gave her a sly, but excited, nudge with her elbow.
Micky suppressed a smile before saying, "Yes, he is." They rode down in silence to first floor, where Nick headed toward a second bank of elevators for the parking garage.
Micky started to follow and Brittany caught her arm, pulling her to the side. Micky glanced over at the garage elevator. Nick held the door for them, and she waved for him to go on.
"Oh, my God! I see him in the building all the time. He is so hot. Do you know him? I think he's a lawyer at that law firm upstairs. He seemed really into you, but if you're dating someone, maybe you can send him my way. Oh, my God!" Brittany talked herself breathless.
"I believe he is a lawyer, but I don't know him well enough to be fixing him up."
"But like, maybe an introduction?" Brittany pressed, a little desperately. She was young, pretty, and clearly had dreams of a fabulous life with a hot, wealthy lawyer.
"I hear he's practically engaged. Have a good night." With that, Micky walked briskly across the lobby, leaving Brittany pouting.
Chapter Six
Nick walked into the restaurant and scanned the bar area. No Micky yet.
Their table wasn't ready, so he nudged his way through the last stragglers of the happy hour crowd to secure a spot at the bar and order a drink. Looking again at the bar patrons, he made eye contact with a slender blonde a few feet away.
She had the Dallas hair, the Dallas smile, and the Dallas boobs to match. She gave a look that probably passed for coy in her mind. To him, it was a pure sexual appraisal. He took it in, but glanced away. It had been a while since he was free to pursue the many women in Dallas' social scene who gave him looks like that at bars. The woman reminded him of Vivienne—only less well-heeled.
Thoughts of skinny blondes evaporated when he turned around and saw Micky—with her smoky hazel eyes, red lips, and curvy, delicious body. She walked toward him. Suddenly, it hit him that he was playing with fire. He should have a simple drink so he could strike up a friendly conversation about Azur. That's it.
Instead, Nick couldn't peel his eyes from the way her black pencil skirt hugged her hips. The skirt wasn't short, but a creamy line of leg extended down to a pair of black heels. Her outfit was all business, but Nick's mind had wandered far from business. Nick found himself wondering how her long legs would feel wrapped around him.
"Hi," she said. "Long time no see."
Nick determined to keep his mind on track. Charm her. Be nice to her. Get her to open up—her mind, not her legs. "What happened with the hot date?"
"Too soon to tell."
Her eyes lit up with mischievous flirtation. Nick opened his mouth to answer her, but all speech left him. He smiled and thanked God when the bartender slid a martini glass in front of Micky and gave him a reprieve.
"Micky! Doll, are you working too hard? I haven't seen you since the Memorial Day party." The bartender gave her hand a pat. Micky rolled her eyes, but smiled. Who the hell is this guy?
"If I don't work, how will I afford my martinis?" Micky picked up the cloudy, chilled vodka martini spiked with an olive and took a sip. "Nick, this is Andy, the owner. Andy, this is Nick. He...he works in my building."
Andy extended his hand over the bar, and Nick paused for a split second before shaking it firmly. The two men surveyed each other. Nick didn't know what to make of his familiarity with Micky. An
dy obviously knew her well enough not only to know her drink, but to deliver it without prompting along with flattery and what Nick thought was a cheesy grin. Did she fall for this stuff?
"When you said you'd been here a time or two..."
"A few hundred times may have been more accurate," she confessed. "Since you wanted to try it, I knew it'd be a great place to meet."
"Micky and her friends are some of my regulars. Although it's been tapering off lately with this one," Andy said. "You better ease up on work, girl. You know what they say about all work and no play."
"I don't see her getting dull anytime soon. Can I get a Macallan with a couple drops of water? Then, I can probably settle up. Our table should be ready soon," Nick said. With those terse words, he reached for his wallet. When he imagined how the evening would go, he didn't anticipate a second guy. Jealousy barked at him. Maybe he wasn't here to romance Micky, but this guy had no way of knowing that. Woof. Nick had to stay focused. He needed information—not another girlfriend.
"Whoa," Micky said, interrupting Nick's self-chastisement. "My treat, remember? This is a thank-you drink."
"You'll have to get him the next one. These are on the house, and let me know if you need anything. Make sure this one has some fun," Andy said, laughing in Micky's direction while he poured Nick's Scotch.
Nick thought about arguing over the free drinks. He clamped his mouth shut. It was no big deal.
"Thanks," Nick said, grabbing his drink. "I'll take that as my personal mission for the evening."
Micky met his eyes and smiled, lifting her brows as she took her drink from the bar and looked over her shoulder. Elle, the hostess, beckoned them to the hostess stand.
"You ready for your table?" Elle asked as they approached her.
"Definitely," Micky replied. Elle gave Nick a good looking over before leading them to a table in a quiet corner of the expansive dining room. Micky slipped into the booth opposite Nick and blushed as Elle flashed her a surreptitious thumbs up. Micky hoped Nick hadn't noticed and sipped her martini.
