The Fix Up

by Tawna Fenske

  “Old habits die hard?”

  Holly shook her head. “I don’t think so. He couldn’t be more opposite of Chase if they were a different species.”

  “Thank God for that. Speaking of King Asshole, what’s the latest from the bank?”

  Holly sighed. “Not much. Obviously, I have to complete the job for Ben Langley before we’re paid in full. The first check helped, but it’s not the full amount I need to refinance the loan so it’s solely in my name.”

  “And Chase isn’t budging on his timeline?”

  “I haven’t been able to reach him. He’s handling everything through his lawyers, just peppering me with legal documents about how I have until the end of next month to either sell or get his name off the loan.”

  “Does he know refinancing a loan when it’s underwater is about as likely as the possibility he’ll spontaneously combust?” Miriam’s eyes lit up. “Hey, there’s an idea.”

  “I don’t think he cares.” Holly bit her lip. “Miriam, I’m so sorry. I know it seemed like a good idea when we started out to buy the building. Real estate prices were so low, and having my husband co-sign the loan didn’t seem like such a dumb move at the time. If I’d had any idea—”

  “Don’t,” Miriam said. “You can’t blame yourself. Hell, I wasn’t in a position to get any sort of loan at all. My credit was in shambles back then or I would have helped. This isn’t anyone’s fault.” She cocked her head to one side. “Well, it might be Chase’s fault a little.”

  “God, I can’t believe I married a guy who thought my career was his rival.”

  “I wouldn’t have let you marry him if he’d acted like that at the start. It wasn’t until he started climbing the corporate ladder at his firm that it all seemed to go to his head.”

  Holly nodded as her thoughts strayed to Ben. How would the CEO position change him? Polishing his social skills and confidence was one thing, but were there other things about him that might change?

  “So back to Ben,” Miriam said, reading her thoughts. “You said he’s showing signs of being a more take-charge guy?”

  “Yes.” Holly pressed her lips together and tried to keep her thoughts professional instead of letting them stray to the other ways Ben could take charge. “I’ve been working with him on it, of course, but honestly, I think just being in a position of power is bringing it out in him.”

  “That’s probably not the only position that’s bringing out his inner alpha male.” Miriam grinned. “Who knew hooking up with your client was exactly what you needed to bring out his inner beast?”

  “Right,” Holly said, grabbing another chip. “So whatever’s been happening between us is just a technique to take his career to the next level. There’s nothing more to it.”

  “You keep telling yourself that.”

  “Come on, Miriam. My job is to further this guy’s career. I’m being paid well to do that right now, but there’s sure as hell no future in a relationship with that dynamic. Been there, done that, divorced that. End of story.”

  “I don’t think that’s it, hon. Maybe there could be more if you wanted it.”

  “I don’t want it,” Holly insisted, pretty sure that was true. “I should probably stop falling into bed with the guy, though.”

  “Technically, you haven’t fallen into bed with anyone. There’s been a living room floor, a conference room floor—”

  “I can’t believe I keep falling onto the floor for this guy.”

  Miriam sipped her wine, considering. “That doesn’t have the same ring to it.”

  Holly buried her head in her hands, knowing she should probably feel guiltier than she did. She’d get to the guilt in a minute, but right now she couldn’t stop thinking about the feel of him in her mouth, the way he gripped her hair and groaned her name as he came.

  “I have to stop this,” she said. “With Chase and the bank breathing down my neck, it’s completely stupid for me to go risking the most lucrative client I have right now.”

  “Are you sure Ben’s not becoming more than a client?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I see the look in your eye. You’re smitten with the guy.”

  “I can’t be.”

  “Whatever you say.” Miriam gave her a knowing look, then picked up her wineglass and drained the last of it before glancing at her watch. “Look, sweetie, I have to get home and feed Phuzeei. Not that my cat is more important than your needs right now, but—”

  “No, it’s fine. I’ve been whining to you long enough.”

  “It’s not whining. It’s never whining when there are orgasms involved.” Miriam stood up and Holly followed suit. “You’ll be fine, hon. Besides, he’s obviously happy with your professional services. Blowjobs aside, he likes what you’re doing for him.”

  “I’m glad his presentation went well.”

  “And the rest of this rebrand will go well, too. As for the loan—” Miriam trailed off, looking a bit less confident. “Well, if worse comes to worst, we can run the business out of a cardboard box and brand the whole concept as the hot new minimalist trend.”

  “Ugh. I’m going to be fretting about it all weekend, you know. Like what if the money doesn’t come through for some reason?”

  “Try not to think about it. There’s nothing else you can do right now anyway, and worrying will just make you sick.” Miriam strode toward the door, Prada handbag looped over one arm as Holly followed behind her. “Are you in for the night?”

  “I think so. I’m exhausted from all the stress about money. I’m just going to put on some pajamas and crawl into bed.”

  Miriam grinned. “Put on the cashmere ones he bought you. Besides being luxurious, they’re probably dripping with his pheromones.”

  “There’s a nice mental picture.”

  “Good night.” Miriam bent down and gave her a hug. “Have a good weekend.”

  Holly hugged back, then closed the door behind Miriam, not feeling a whole lot better than she had when her friend had stopped by an hour ago after the event. Then again, she didn’t feel worse.

  She glanced at her phone, wondering if she’d hear from him again. After he’d texted to let her know the presentation had gone well, she’d texted back a brief message congratulating him. She hadn’t heard from him since.

  Holly trudged to the bedroom to put on her pajamas. Okay, fine—she put on the ones she’d gotten from Ben. Was that so wrong? They were comfortable, and they were new.

  The shirt still smelled like his aftershave, and Holly resisted the urge to hold it up to her nose and breathe in his scent before pulling it over her head. Her whole body did a happy little swoon at the memory of what she’d been doing the last time she’d worn this top.

  Outfitted in her comfy attire, she wandered into the kitchen, her mind still drifting to Ben’s presentation. Had her speech coaching tips made a difference for him in the presentation? She hoped she’d managed to impart at least a few helpful hints before getting derailed by chemistry or lust or whatever the hell kept seizing control of her brain and making her do crazy things.

  God, why was she taking so many risks lately? Langley Enterprises was a huge client—the biggest First Impressions had ever landed. Between Ben’s rebranding work and the potential for more Langley business, this was her best shot at earning enough to refinance the loan. She was chancing a lot by fooling around with Ben. Jeopardizing her whole career for what?

  For a man. You swore you’d never do that.

  Holly sighed and yanked open her freezer door, determined to drown her sorrows in something sinfully sweet. She spotted a gallon of vanilla ice cream and thought about the ice cream floats Ben had made the other night.

  “Bingo!” she said aloud as she pulled open the fridge to find a liter of strawberry seltzer Miriam had left behind. It wasn’t root beer, but it would do.

  She set about making herself a float, wondering what Ben was up to. Was he celebrating? The thought of a celebration that included scantily c
lad women throwing themselves at a powerful man was enough to deepen her glum mood, so she put an extra big scoop of ice cream in her float.

  She’d just shoved the ice cream back in the freezer when her phone rang. She picked it up with the ice cream scoop still clutched in her other hand. “Hello?”

  “Hey, Holly. It’s Ben. Open your front door.”

  A shudder of excitement ran through her, followed by a shudder of dread. She probably looked like she was having a seizure, which was hardly the condition she wanted to be in for having company. Besides, she was wearing the loungewear he’d bought her. The last thing she needed was Ben thinking she’d been pining away for him in her pajamas.

  Then she imagined him standing there on her front porch, and her brain started to cloud with the thrill of spending an evening with him. “You want to come in?”

  Her body was already moving toward the front of the house in defiance of her brain’s warning that it wasn’t a good idea. She had the ice cream scoop clutched in one hand and a stupid grin on her face, which she spotted in the mirror on her way to the door.

  “I’m not at the door but something else is,” Ben said.

  Holly stopped at the door, her hand on the knob. “Okay, this is starting to sound slightly creepy stalkery.”

  “I thought you liked creepy stalkery. At least you did when I bought you pajamas.”

  “That’s true.” She hesitated, her hand still on the door. “Apparently I’m turned on by creepy stalkers and dirty-talking science geeks. How did I never know this about myself until I hit thirty?”

  “You’re thirty?”

  “Yes, why?”

  “That’s what my dad thought.”

  “Why was your dad guessing my age? Never mind, how old are you?”

  “Thirty-one. Did you open your door yet?”

  “Hang on.” Holly set the ice cream scoop on the entry table and cracked open her front door. Sitting on the front stoop in the beam of her porch light was the biggest arrangement of wildflowers she’d ever seen.

  “Ben, they’re beautiful!” Cradling the phone against her ear, she bent down to scoop up the basket. “Oh my God, did you bring these?”

  “I had them delivered.”

  “They’re gorgeous.” She carried the basket into the house, kicking the door shut behind her. “Thank you.”

  “No, thank you. Without your coaching, I never could have nailed that presentation today.”

  “I was just doing what you hired me to do.”

  “You did a little more than that.”

  Holly winced as she set the basket on the table, but before she could say anything about the fact that she didn’t usually suck off clients in her boardroom, Ben beat her to it.

  “No—uh, I didn’t mean that. Well, that was nice, too, but it’s not what I’m talking about. You really lit a fire under me.”

  “What?”

  “The passion you were talking about making sure I infuse into my presentation. I nailed it.”

  She grinned and moved the phone to her other ear, turning the flower arrangement from one side to the other to see which way looked best. “I’m so happy for you.”

  “You should have seen me in there. I really took charge, really controlled the room and let my excitement take over.”

  “I wish I could have been there.”

  “Me, too. And I wish I could see you now.”

  Holly bit her lip, wishing she could invite him over. Would it be the worst thing? Maybe they could just—

  “No.” She startled herself by speaking aloud, but now that she’d said it, she knew it was the right thing. “I wish we could get together, Ben, but we both know how that would end up.”

  “I know. I’m on board with that. Totally in agreement with not seeing each other. That’s why we’re going to have a movie night together.”

  Holly clutched the phone tighter. “Did you miss the part where I said it would be a bad idea if we got together?”

  “Nope, I heard you loud and clear. And I agree.”

  “You do?”

  “Yep. Open the card attached to the flowers.”

  She hadn’t noticed the card before, but now that she saw it, she realized it was a lot bulkier than a normal envelope. It was square and thick and looked like it held more than a card. “What’s in there?”

  “Open it.”

  She plucked the envelope out of the sea of daisies and sunflowers, tearing into it with embarrassing enthusiasm. She stared at the packaging for a moment, then laughed. “You bought me a Star Wars DVD?”

  “It’s the same one I have. The collectors’ edition. So I figure if we both put it in at the same time—”

  “We’d avoid the temptation to put something else in.”

  Ben laughed. “Pretty much. Are you game?”

  “Definitely.”

  “Good. Go grab a snack and put your jammies on.”

  “Done and done.”

  “Yeah? What’s your snack?”

  “A strawberries and cream float. I just invented it.”

  “Sounds delicious. Okay, so I’ll meet you in bed in thirty seconds.”

  Holly felt a jolt of excitement at his words and wondered what it would be like to have him mean it for real. Instead, she scooped up her dessert and the DVD and trudged toward the back of the house. “How’d you know I have a TV in my bedroom?”

  “Lucky guess. If we’re going to pretend-snuggle, it’s better to do it in a bed than on the couch.”

  She laughed and set the froth-filled glass on her nightstand. “You want the right side or the left?”

  “Right.”

  “Good. The left side is mine. Hang on a sec, let me put it in—”

  “God, yes.”

  She laughed and rolled her eyes. “The DVD, you goof. If this is going to turn into a phone sex session, I’m hanging up.”

  No you’re not, her libido telegraphed.

  Still, she felt a little relief when Ben didn’t pursue that line of conversation. Not that she wouldn’t love talking dirty with him. But there was something about the idea of a quiet evening of watching a movie together and snuggling that made her feel warm inside.

  Okay, virtual snuggling. But even that sounded nice.

  “Got it all cued up?” Ben asked.

  “Hang on. I don’t watch a lot of movies, so it’ll take me a second to get it going.”

  She fumbled the DVD out of its case and maneuvered it into the machine, then picked up the remote control. She scampered back to bed and threw the covers back, then burrowed beneath a thick layer of blankets.

  “What size bed do you have?” he asked.

  “A queen. Why?”

  “Just trying to picture it. How about your covers?”

  “I have a down-filled comforter with a purple cover on it and this crazy-looking afghan hand-knitted with every color of yarn on the planet.”

  “You knit?”

  “Nope. I always wished I could, but I don’t have the patience. Maybe someday. My grandma made it.”

  “That’s sweet,” he said, his voice low and even. “May I fluff your pillow for you?”

  “Why does that sound dirty when you say it?”

  “Anything sounds dirty if you say it right.”

  “Example?”

  “Mastication-induced arousal.”

  “What?”

  “It’s a term used to describe the beneficial cognitive effects of chewing,” he said. “Or how about antennating?”

  “Is that a cross between penetrating and lubricating?”

  “Now who’s talking dirty? It’s just the term to describe how insects communicate by touching antennae.”

  “That sounds romantic.”

  “It kinda does, doesn’t it?” She heard rustling on the other end of the line, and imagined Ben snuggling back into his own nest of blankets. Did he have a bed in his penthouse yet, or was he sleeping on the floor? She hadn’t had a chance to find out the other night, and now didn’t seem
like the right time to ask.

  “Okay, are you all settled in?”

  “Yes,” Holly said, nestling back against her own pile of pillows. “Ready.”

  “I’m going to count us down from three. When I say go, hit play.”

  “Got it. Are we watching the previews, or skipping them?”

  “Which do you prefer?”

  “Skip.”

  “Okay. Go ahead and cue it up.”

  Holly hit a couple buttons on her remote, then hit pause. “Ready,” she said.

  “Good. Okay then. Three—” His voice was low and sexy and left no doubt he’d be amazing at phone sex if he tried. “Two—”

  “Wait. Are you wearing pajamas, too?”

  “Nope.”

  “What are you wearing?”

  “I thought we weren’t having phone sex.”

  “We’re not,” she said, flushing a little as she picked up her glass. “I just want to be able to picture you. If we’re virtual-snuggling, you’ve gotta set the scene.”

  “Fair enough. I’m wearing boxers.”

  “No shirt?”

  “No shirt.”

  She ignored the pulse of pleasure that shot through her as she picked up her ice cream float and took a sip. It was amazing. “What’s your snack?” she asked.

  “Root beer float and a bowl of popcorn.”

  “Just like the other night.”

  “Not quite.”

  The smile in his voice sent a fresh wave of excitement coursing through her body, but she scooped up another bite and closed her eyes. “Okay, I can picture you snuggled up in bed in your boxer shorts with your popcorn and your—”

  “No bed. I haven’t gotten around to getting one yet.”

  “What? Where are you sleeping?”

  “A sofa. It’s quite large and very comfortable. I just need to find time to get back to the furniture store to pick out the rest of the things I need.”

  The idea of Ben sleeping on a couch in his gazillion dollar penthouse gave her a tickle of guilt, and she almost opened her mouth to invite him to share her bed for real.

  But she stopped herself. He was a big boy. He could get a hotel room with a bed if he needed one. Right now, she needed the security of knowing she could keep her distance. That she could keep her professional composure and still have a relationship with this guy.