Naughty and Nice

by Sarah J. Brooks

  “Well, Zoe, what do you do?”

  The question froze her in place. For want of breathing space to think of something, she pulled her hand from his and moved to the mantle to absorb some of the warmth from the fire.

  “I’m between jobs at the moment,” she replied, biting her bottom lip. It wasn’t a complete lie; she was between jobs, though by profession she was a model. “Tell me about your company.”

  Haltingly, he began telling her he was in NY to acquire a small business, but the more he spoke about the company, the more relaxed he became. She waited patiently for him to tell her that he was seeking a spokes-model, but he didn’t. He did say he was looking to take his company international.

  Based on her research, she knew it was doing well for a company that never did much advertising. Now that he was thinking of going international, a spokesperson would be the ideal representation.

  “You know what you need?” she asked.

  “Tell me,” he said, coming to stand by her near the fireplace.

  “You need someone who is able to market your business in a way that will crush your competitors. What you need is someone to travel to the countries you want to set up office and represent your business to their public.”

  “Yes, that’s right,” he agreed, now animated.

  “What do they call it … a public relations officer?”

  “Spokesperson?” he added.

  Snapping her fingers, she replied gleefully, “Yes. That’s what you need. He or she would learn the ins and outs of the company so that they can represent you accordingly. You need someone, perhaps a man who just graduated college and is eager for work.”

  Zoe mentally patted herself on that last statement. Suggesting a man was genius as she knew Gael would never buy it. It also suggested to him that she was not doing this as a way to get him to hire her.

  “Why a male?” he asked.

  Good question, she thought. “Well, men are strong, and actually,” she paused, a deliberate ploy for her answer. “This is a secret, but … women are so much more expensive. Guys don’t need much to travel you know.”

  His interest was piqued, or he was amused. Either way, she had him where she wanted him, interested in what she had to say.

  “Women need to carry cosmetics, several pairs of shoes, several outfits to change, and perhaps an entourage, who knows. They can be such divas. Hiring a man could save you some money.”

  “You don’t seem like a diva to me,” he suggested.

  Bingo! “Well, I‘m no typical woman. I’m different, self-sufficient and know how to survive in a minimalist way.”

  He smiled, a glint appearing in his eyes. “You keep surprising me, Zoe Archer.” His voice dropped as he studied her face.

  She tried not to look into those eyes, but there it was again. They trapped her, and for about thirty seconds, she was unable to look away. Somehow, during the conversation, they’d moved closer together, causing an energy field to open up. When he reached up his hand and touched his fingers to her cheek, she could do nothing but intake a sharp breath.

  Her mind went blank as her skin sizzled from his touch. His eyes deepened in shade, and then he dropped his hand. As if realizing that something was happening, Gael strolled to a draped window that would have overlooked a garden. The thick wine red drapes obscured the view, but he stood with his back to her nonetheless.

  Absently, her hand caressed the spot on her cheek that still burned while the pulse at her throat gyrated to its own rhythm. Though they were in the midst of one of the coldest winters, her skin flushed with heat that she felt a trickle of sweat run down her back. She shuddered as it meandered down her spine.

  This wasn’t the plan. She wasn’t supposed to be affected by him. She was supposed to wow him with her intelligence and show him she was more than a tomboy, more than a chick with rainbow hair. She wanted him to see what he’d missed out on when she finally told him the truth.

  How was she to do that when he was beginning to get under her skin? His nearness, his smile, and even the darn way he was standing at the window with his hands shoved in his jeans pockets. That damn ass of his was so perfectly round and tight against the thick fabric of the denim.

  Zoe closed her eyes, willing her mind to focus on what was important, and that was taking down the arrogant bastard a notch or three. Even the thought didn’t have as much gusto as it did before. He was no longer a bastard but still arrogant. Yes, she would take down the arrogant Gael Matheson a few notches.

  “I want a female,” he said, startling her.

  He turned and strode back to the mantle, but she moved to the sofa before he got there.

  “I need the perfect balance between beauty and brains to represent Blue Atlantic Shipping.”

  “Ah, so that’s the name of your company. Where have I heard that name before?”

  “I don’t know; I haven’t done much advertising. Most of my business has been through referrals.”

  Zoe kept her eyes on him, though she fought to avoid contact with his eyes. This was risky business, this game of cat and mouse. Somehow, she knew that Gael was the cat and felt that eventually, she’d be the one squealing for help.

  Chapter 12

  David was thinking of his son as he sipped a warm apple cider. With his wife by his side, he felt that he was partially responsible for the way Gael viewed the world. Having no desire to love anyone or get married was no way for a man to live.

  He had been fortunate to love twice, once with Gael’s mother and now his wife. Gael was yet to find love, and he saw the way his son was with that girl. However, Gael was too arrogant to admit he liked her, or maybe he didn’t realize it. Hopefully, his plan would work, and his son would find some happiness.

  Leaning across his armchair at the lodge a few miles from the homeless shelter, he spoke softly. “I think we should take up Bob and Jen’s offer and spend the night.”

  After spending a couple of hours handing out hot meals at the shelter, they’d come to the lodge to freshen and have a drink with their friends. Robert, aka ‘Bob’ was a longtime friend of twenty years along with his wife, Jennifer.

  “Stay the night. Why would you want to return to an empty house alone? There’s plenty of room, and the more, the merrier,” Bob had said.

  “We are not …” Marla had begun but he’d jabbed her and shook his head.

  “We’ll think about it,” he cut in.

  He placed the now empty cup on a coffee table and waited for her response. Marla looked at him with creases in her forehead. “What are you up to?” she whispered.

  “I think Gael likes that girl. Let them get to know each other a bit.”

  She hesitated. “Are you sure? There seems to be some tension there.”

  “It’s called chemistry, honey,” he replied, taking her hand and bringing it to his lips. “Chemistry,” he repeated.

  “You’re so naughty.” She giggled.

  “Is that a yes?”

  She nodded. “Hmm, but I remember who she is.”

  He raised a brow and smiled. “Is that so?”

  “That magazine I buy twice per year, she’s in it. I just received the Christmas issue. I don’t know why I never recognized her before.”

  “The hair, that could fool anybody.” He chuckled, remembering Gael referring to her as Unicorn.

  “Her name is Zoe. She’s been modeling for nearly ten years, and she holds a college degree to boot,” she said wonderingly.

  David squeezed his wife’s hand. “It’s not too late for you. You could go to college too.”

  “Naw, I would rather do something else,” she replied happily.

  “What’s that?”

  “A flower shop. I want a flower shop.”

  “Then my girl shall have what she wants,” he replied, his eyes gleaming.

  Needing to get away from Gael, she made a run to the kitchen to clean it before his father and stepmother got back. She took the time to settle whatever conflict was happ
ening in her mind.

  She disliked him, and men like him, yet, she was reacting to him like a schoolgirl with a crush. It didn’t make sense. There was no reasonable explanation except that the morning incident may have triggered some chemical reaction that she could not control. According to her own logic, so long as it was purely physical, resisting him was a piece of cake.

  When she got back to the living room, he was busy on his tablet, so she headed to her room to call Florine. The woman must have been going out of her mind, not knowing where she was.

  Florine answered after the first ring. “Where are you?” her voice was pitched high.

  “I’m with a friend,” she replied softly. “I’m fine.”

  “You don’t sound good.”

  She sighed. “I got the flu, but it’s not so bad now.”

  “Where are you?” Florine asked once more. “I’ve been trying to reach you since yesterday.”

  “I told you I’m with a friend. Don’t worry.”

  “I finally was able to get someone to the airport last night, and you weren’t there. I thought you got caught in the storm and perhaps something terrible happened,” Florine’s voice cracked.

  “I’m sorry. The network kept slowing down, perhaps due to the volume of users. Plus I was so sick; I was passed out half the time.”

  “Which friend are you staying with?” the other woman asked.

  Florine had never pressed her about her friends before; therefore, she knew the woman was worried about her. How could she tell her she was with Gael Matheson and that she was in the middle of a dangerous game?

  “I told you not to worry. I’m a big girl,” she reassured her.

  Florine’s sigh came loud and clear through the cell phone. “Okay. You’re a big girl.”

  “I’ll call you later.”

  “Make sure to do that, or I will report you missing!”

  That was no joke. Knowing her guardian, she’d call in the feds at the drop of a hat. Since the woman took her in, she’d treated her like a mother, maybe because she didn’t or couldn’t have kids of her own.

  “I promise,” she reiterated before hanging up.

  They chatted for a while longer before Florine finally let her go, making her promise to call her later that night. After she hung up and checked the time, it was near one o’clock, and she was now hungry. Not having eaten her fill that morning made for a battle in her stomach.

  She went back to the kitchen to have a chunk of the casserole while Gael was still on his tablet in the living room. While she let the food heat in the microwave, it occurred to her that he might be hungry as well.

  After a few minutes of conflict, trying to decide if she should also fix him lunch, she made up her mind and headed to the living room. As she entered, he looked up from his device.

  “I’m heating some of the casserole. I didn’t eat much this morning,” she babbled. “Would you by any chance like me to fix you some?”

  “Sure, that’d be great.” He grinned, and she lost her nerve.

  Whirling around, she tottered back on wobbly legs. Her stomach fluttered as she pushed the door, entering the safe haven of the kitchen. It was a bad idea, she concluded. Now, they’d have to sit across from each other. How was she going to eat with him at the table?

  “Crap!” she cursed under her breath.

  By the time she was done heating the food and getting some salad from the fridge, Gael presented himself. He was holding a bottle of red wine in his hand and two glasses.

  She took one look at the wine and frowned. “Are you trying to get me drunk?”

  “Maybe,” he replied easily. “Are you scared?”

  Another challenge, she thought. Yes, she was freaking scared. “Of course not!” she chortled.

  “Good. I didn’t think you were.”

  Is he making fun of me?

  She set the table while he poured the wine. Since it was just the two of them, she made sure they would sit as far apart as possible. That meant they would be directly facing each other. It was better than having to rub legs with him.

  However, as she sat, she realized it was not much different because his knees kept touching hers. Other than that, the meal wasn’t very unpleasant. Gael didn’t talk much, perhaps sensing her need for silence. The wine was mild, and she suspected that it contained minimal alcohol. After eating, they both went back to the living room.

  Chapter 13

  Getting to know Zoe was different from what he expected. She was intelligent and articulate. They spent the afternoon talking about many things, as she seemed to have put aside her contempt of him. As far as he was concerned, how they met didn’t matter. What mattered now was that he found himself wanting to know the woman that she was.

  It was rare that he met a woman who stimulated his intelligence. He could not remember ever meeting a young woman her age that had life figured out. As he spent time knowing her, he realized she was a woman of simple tastes. She didn’t care about the things girls her age cared about, like clothes, jewelry, and other trivial stuff he usually got bored hearing. She never once mentioned fashion or her hair. He was intrigued.

  “Why aren’t you employed?” he asked after talking about marketing and how the advertising industry fed on the individual’s emotions to sell products.

  “I never said I was unemployed. I said I was between jobs,” she corrected.

  “What does that mean … do you freelance?”

  She hesitated before responding, “Yes, you could say that.”

  “What exactly is it you do? You talk a lot about marketing, are you a marketing agent?”

  “Somewhat?” she replied.

  Her answers were vague, but it didn’t matter. He was beginning to see that she was more than met the eye.

  “How would you like a job?”

  Her eyes widened, and she stared at him. Something seemed to be happening behind her hazel eyes. While he waited for her response, he pondered the familiarity of those eyes, especially when the amber flecks appeared in them.

  “What kind of job?” she finally asked. She didn’t sound as enthusiastic as he thought she would be.

  Their eyes locked, and the space between the armchair and sofa seemed to close. Everything faded, and she was the only thing in the room. It took some effort to refocus and concentrate on the discussion.

  “We’re in the process of finding a spokes-model. If you work with me, I think we would make a great team.”

  “As a spokes-model?” she asked, narrowing her eyes.

  “No, you’ll be my public relations officer or marketing executive. You could also help me find the ideal spokesperson for the job,” he informed her.

  He examined her face as she rose from her seat and moved to the mantle. She stared into the fire contemplatively. The blue and yellow flames of the faux fire flickered, reflecting off her face.

  On autopilot, he followed her, getting close. It wasn’t a deliberate act. In fact, he found himself doing things he wouldn’t normally do when he was around her. Gael felt the need to figure out why he was drawn to her, and in the process, he needed to know what made her tick.

  “What are you thinking?” he drawled.

  She turned, their eyes connecting. “I don’t know. Can I think about this?”

  “Take all the time you need. I’m still waiting for the agency to call me about that girl,” he replied.

  “What girl?”

  He sighed. “A model who supposedly possesses a degree in communication, who I’m told is in very high demand. I heard she has the looks and brains.”

  “What a coincidence … I have a Master in Communication,” she exclaimed.

  He leaned his head to the side, studying her bug eyes and bright smile. She was different from the models he’d interviewed, articulate and graceful when she wasn’t being difficult.

  “I have an idea,” he said, not taking a second to make up his mind. “How about you do it?” It was a kneejerk reaction upon seeing her up close.
Being able to observe her fine features took his breath away. Her beauty astounded him. Why hadn’t he noticed before?

  Her beautiful forehead creased, and she looked at him puzzled. “Do what?”

  “The spokesperson. I want you to do it.”

  Her face fell, and she twisted her lips. “I thought you said we should get along and put our differences behind us?” Her voice rose a notch.

  He drew a blank at the sudden change in attitude. It was obvious she was upset by the way her lips set and the flushed tone of her skin.

  “What did I say?”

  She inhaled and let it out quickly. “First, offering me a job as your PR person and then suddenly offering me your precious spokes-model position. Weren’t you the one who said you needed a model with brains?”

  “Yes, and you fit the role perfectly,” he replied, baffled at her outburst. “What’s the problem?”

  “I don’t need anyone doing me any favors. I’m not desperately looking for a job, so I don’t need your pity.”

  “Where is this outburst coming from? Why would I offer this job out of pity? Do you know how much time and effort I’ve put into finding the right girl?”

  “All the more reason that it’s fishy you offering it to me.”

  “Do you know how much I was planning to pay the right person?” he asked.

  “I don’t care,” she snapped. “If you’ve taken so much care finding the right person, why would you offer it to me just like that?”

  “Because I think you’re her.”

  “Bullshit, and you know it, Gael Matheson. You very well know that you prefer big busted blondes like the ones you interviewed!”

  His eyes narrowed while she stared at him with mouth agape. “How did you know that?” he growled, stepping closer to her.

  Mouth still open, she stepped back. He continued his advance until her back was against the wall near the window, and he was within inches.

  “I asked, how did you know the models I interviewed?”

  She straightened, looking directly into his eyes. “Because I was the one you so rudely rejected!”

  That didn’t make sense; he stared into her hazel eyes with their blazing ember flecks. His mind went back to the day before yesterday. The day of the auditions when he ran through the girls. She wasn’t among them.