by Dawn Atkins
Until a cold trickle of good sense drizzled into her awareness. Making out in a bar was pure party girl, a page from her PQ2 report. Her job—hell, her future—was on the line.
She’d learned that lesson, hadn’t she? Sex at work was a bad idea. Look at what happened to her reputation after she kissed poor Jared. She had to put the brakes on. Now.
She managed to pry her lips away and grab Matt’s shoulders. “You…don’t…want…this,” she said between gasps.
“Oh, yes, I do,” he said, pulling her back by her ass.
“You’re drunk, Matt.”
“Not that drunk.” He hiccupped. “What stays in Malibu, happens in Malibu…Er, whatever happens, stays…You know what I mean.”
“If you can’t even say it, you can hardly do it.” She backed away, giving herself space. “At least not with me. Try Jaycee, Matt.” She searched the bar for the bouncy blonde.
“I don’t want Jaycee. I want you.” His eyes grabbed her and held on. The words from their song vibrated in her head. Insane and stupid and pointless.
“Let’s get some air,” she said, pushing out of his arms, starting toward the door.
Matt grabbed her by the waist to guide her through the crowd, which had become denser by the minute.
As soon as they got outside, Matt pulled her to him. “I need your mouth.” Having this no-nonsense engineer so hot for her was such a rush, but she knew it was wrong.
“What you need is to sleep it off,” she said, breaking away. She’d never before said no to something she wanted this badly. “Let’s walk,” she said shakily, needing a distraction. She shoved the trophy into her bag and kicked off her sandals.
Matt gave in, took her hand and led her toward the ebbing tide. A light breeze lifted her hair and cooled her body.
The sea looked like polished silver beneath the pale orange and pink of the blooming sunset, which gave the air an otherworldly glow. A few sailboats rode the breeze along the horizon.
“I feel sooo good tonight,” Matt said, leaning back to look up at the sky. He staggered a little and she laughed.
“And you’ll feel sooo bad tomorrow.”
“It was worth it. I never let loose like this.” Then he muttered, as if to himself, “Jane was right about me.”
“Your girlfriend?”
“Did Ellie tell you about Jane?”
“In passing, yes.” She didn’t want Matt to know Ellie told her every detail she knew.
“Well, Jane claims I don’t know how to relax.”
“Really?”
He nodded, wearing a half-assed grin. “Her exact words were, ‘You wouldn’t know fun if it threw you a surprise party.’”
“Ouch. That’s harsh.”
“Espe-shly coming from someone who works jus’ as hard.” He was slurring and now he squinted, as if to compensate for double vision. “She’s a lawyer. Sixty-hour weeks eeeeasy. We had that in common. We’re both career oriented and goal driven.”
“You sound like a corporation,” she said.
“Yeah. True.” He nodded a couple of times. “Thatz what made us a good match. Bu’ I was wrong.” He sighed and shook his head. “She broke up with me.”
He’s still in love with her. Candy felt a jolt of disappointment. But this was helpful, she knew. Matt still loved Jane. Like garlic to werewolves, this would ward off Candy’s own lust, keep her from imagining things that could never be.
Things she didn’t even want, for Pete’s sake.
“Being here with you is good for me,” Matt said now, throwing an arm around her shoulder. “You’re showing me how to be…what did you say? ‘Fun Guy.’ Yeah. I could get into that. I’ve been missing out…a lot.” He tried to turn her toward him, to embrace her, she was sure.
She scooted away.
He was so tough to resist. His eyes were soft, but still hot, moving over her body, wanting her, no longer able to politely look away from her breasts, her hips, her mouth.
She had to stay in charge. “I bet when Jane sees Fun Guy, she’ll want you back, Matt.”
“She won’t believe iz me, tha’z for sure.” He chuckled. They walked a little farther. “So, whadowe do now?” he asked her. “Back to my place? For a drink?”
Bad, bad idea. “I was supposed to show you my ideas on Ledger Lite, but you’re in no shape for that. How about we start early in the morning? Before we go to the mall? I’ll borrow your computer so I can get organized tonight.”
“If you say so,” he said, shaking his head. “I can’t believe you wanna work.”
They made it to his place and he invited her in again, his eyes offering more than the Cheetos and HoHos he was trying to tempt her with.
“Just the computer,” she said, standing firm outside his door.
“Okay. You’re one tough cookie,” he said, giving up and going to get his computer. He put the case’s strap over her shoulder. “There you go.”
“Is seven-thirty too early to come back?” she asked.
“I’m up at six.” He tilted his head at her. “Do you know how remarkable you are?” He was looking her over as if she were dessert. The booze had melted away all traces of politeness.
“That’s the Tsunami talking, Matt, but thanks.”
“See you in the morning, then.”
When he leaned out to kiss her, she chastely gave him her cheek, but she greedily inhaled the warm, human smell of him—salt and man and lime. Matt.
She headed to her place, computer snug at her side. She was proud of herself. She’d fought off the ache to get naked with Matt and stuck to her mission.
It was only 7:00. She had plenty of time to key in her notes, consolidate e-mails and leave a voice mail for Freeda, who worked 7:00 to 3:00 and could nab Candy’s hard-drive files for her in the morning before she went to Matt’s.
If only her family could see her now. Though the proof would be the promotion. That would be tangible evidence of her success. The promotion would redeem her, prove her maturity, make her respectable in their eyes. She was making definite progress. Tomorrow, Matt would see what a good team leader she would make. This was working out just fine, despite the Tsunami-inspired make-out.
At the beach house, Candy was delighted to find Sara and Ellie stretched out on the foldout couch Candy would sleep on. Both were sucking on BombPops, the red, white and blue Popsicles she remembered from her childhood, and laughing at TV.
“Hey, Candy, what have you been up to?” Ellie asked.
“Working with Matt.” She grinned, proud that it was true.
“No way. All this time?”
“Every minute.” The hardest work of all had been walking away. She sank into a chair beside the bed, happy to be with her friends, vowing not to confess her close call.
“Your nose is burned,” Sara said. “And what’s that sticking out of your bag?”
Candy held up the trophy. “We won this in a karaoke contest. Matt and I sang a duet. It was work, believe it or not. Before that we won our game in this volleyball tournament. Also work, because—”
“Hold it right there,” Ellie said, raising her hand in a stop sign. “You got my brother to sing? In front of a crowd?”
She shrugged.
Ellie squealed and tapped her Popsicle against Sara’s. “I told you they would hook up.”
“We didn’t hook up.” Though they’d come damn close. “We made this deal about work. My computer croaked, so he’s loaning me his. In exchange, I’m helping him with his social skills, which he has to improve because of his PQ2 scores.”
“Matt gave up his laptop?” Ellie said. “That’s amazing. He’s, like, hooked by umbilical to it.”
“Exactly. It’s part of helping him be more social. He was very impressed with my networking skills.”
“Your networking skills?” Sara grinned.
“So, you made a deal to teach Matt how to party?” Ellie said. “That is so you.” She saluted Candy with her BombPop.
“It’s not that way.�
�� Except she saw how it might seem so. “Anyway, I’m going over there tomorrow morning to work.” She had to change the subject. “So what have you two been up to?”
She spotted Sara’s computer on the counter, still on. “You didn’t work after we talked?”
“Just a little,” Sara said.
“She took a break long enough to meet a hot guy, though,” Ellie said, “until Uncle Spence called and ruined it.”
“Sara, if I can work on vacation, you can try not to.”
“I am trying,” Sara said with a heavy sigh.
The girls talked on about the guy Sara had met—he owned a surf shop and Ellie thought Sara needed lessons—and then Ellie had news about an audition for extras for Sin on the Beach.
“And here’s the best part,” Sara said. “The director is a guy she knew from when she was a kid.”
“No!”
“He was our next-door neighbor when I was twelve. Bill Romero—eighteen and sooo hot. I wrote about him in my diary, fantasized about my first kiss with him—my first, well, everything. I only spoke to him once and that was to ask if he was really going to film school in New York. He was and that was that. He left and my heart shattered into a million pieces.”
“And that’s what sent you to the dark side?” Candy asked. “You started in with the vampires and the undead?”
“Oh, stop.”
“So, do you have an in with the show? Because of Bill?”
“He didn’t recognize me. Of course, back then I wore overalls all the time and my hair was flyaway and mousy brown.”
“So now he can fall for the grown-up Ellie,” Candy said.
“Hardly,” Ellie said.
In the silence, Candy noticed the boom-chica-boom soundtrack coming from the TV. “What are you two watching?”
“Summer Sluts, I think it’s called,” Ellie said. “We’re getting Sara in the mood for her surf guy. With these, too.” She lifted the ice pop. “We’re picking up oral techniques.” Ellie gave her Popsicle an exaggerated lick.
“How does she do that?” Sara asked, watching one of the video sluts bend backward off the side of the bed.
“Her spine’s made of whatever Gumby is,” Ellie declared.
“They make it look easy,” Sara said with a sigh.
“They make it look fake,” Candy said. There was no emotion, no energy, no heat. Nothing like the incredible melting desire she’d felt in Matt’s arms.
“Hey…” Sara said. Candy glanced over to find Sara staring at her. “What’s up with you? You’re all pink and glowing.”
“It’s just the sunburn.” Candy was no poker player, so she deflected the conversation. “What time’s the audition, El?”
“Gak! The crack of dawn. Seven o’clock. Can you believe that? I’ll sleep through, no doubt. When I’m not at the coffee bar, I’m never up before noon.”
“I’ll get you up, no problem,” Sara said.
“Courtesy of an Uncle Spence call?” Candy asked.
Sara shrugged. She obviously hadn’t made much headway in her plan to run free of her demanding uncle.
“I doubt I’ll make the cut,” Ellie said. “Goth is not a beach-babe look.”
“Oh, but we can fix that, can’t we, Sara?” Candy climbed onto the bed and looked Ellie over. “Maybe soften your contrasts. Let’s see…” She fingered Ellie’s black curls. “We could straighten your hair…give it sun streaks.”
“Are you crazy?” Ellie grabbed both sides of her hair.
“Only temporarily, of course,” Candy said, winking at Sara. “We wouldn’t want the Queen of the Damned to look too cheerful.”
“There’s Walgreens up the way for the color and straightener,” Sara said. “And we can use my makeup. Pastel shadow to bring out your eyes. Bronzer so you’re not so pale.”
“Then all you need is the right bikini,” Candy said, getting into the makeover idea. Matt tomorrow and Ellie tonight.
“How about my black one?” Sara said. “It’s cut high.”
“Perfect. Absolutely sinful.”
“This is too much fuss over me,” Ellie said.
“It’s about time,” Candy said. “This vacation is about breaking out of old patterns. You’re always doing things for us. Let us return the favor.”
“Exactly,” Sara said, wiping a cherry drip from a flyer on the coffee table. It was the same puce as the one at Matt’s place. “And look at this. There’s a contest as part of the festival.” She held the flyer so they could read. “You get points for events. The grand prize is a month-long time-share at a beach condo here for ten years.”
“So that’s what the vouchers were for,” Candy said. “Matt and I got five hundred points for the karaoke win and another two hundred for the volleyball game.”
“I think there was something about getting festival points for auditioning,” Ellie mused. “Double if you get a part.”
“That’s great,” Sara said. “It says you can work as a team. Candy, you and Matt gave us a head start with your wins. The finalists submit an essay about why they deserve the condo.”
“Candy can write that,” Ellie said.
“Three good friends who need to escape from their lives for one week each year? Hell, it’ll write itself.” Candy grinned.
“We should divvy up events to maximize points,” Sara said.
“Great idea. I can make this part of my deal with Matt. We’re already doing the photo shoot.”
“I’ll build a spreadsheet so we can be strategic.” Sara wore her efficiency-mode expression.
“Not if this means more work for you,” Candy said.
“This isn’t work. This is fun.” Sara beamed. “If we win, we’ll have a fabulous condo together every summer.”
The girls high-fived each other.
“Let’s hit the drugstore for Ellie’s hair stuff,” Sara said, jumping up.
This would be a blast, Candy thought, starting to get up. Then she caught sight of Matt’s computer. She’d sworn to get organized for tomorrow. She would choose long-term gain over short-term fun. “You two go ahead. I have to work.”
Her friends gawked at her.
“I’m going to his place early. I’ve got to prepare.” She spoke sternly. After a long, shocked silence, her friends accepted her decision and left without her.
At least they hadn’t laughed.
She almost went after them and bought beach toys and water blasters for good measure, but she pictured her brothers rolling their eyes. We knew you couldn’t work on vacation.
Oh, yes she could, dammit. She turned on Matt’s computer, but as it fired to life, she felt herself go dead. Bone weary. Fighting her urges all day had worn her out. She needed something to perk herself up. Coffee? Better would be a hard run along the beach and a few primal screams into the Malibu twilight.
Stripping to her bikini, she grabbed a towel, left a note for her friends, and set off running.
5
AS SOON AS CANDY left, Matt realized he was well and truly smashed. He’d been so pumped with adrenaline and testosterone around her that he hadn’t truly felt the booze. He’d be sorry in the morning. She was right about that.
He tossed off his shirt and threw himself across his bed to watch the ceiling fan swirl. Then he noticed the fan wasn’t on. It was the ceiling that was spinning.
He jammed his foot to the floor to still the wonky kaleidoscope overhead. He felt as though he’d been tossed on his head by a real tsunami.
It was not just the liquor. It was Candy, too. He kept thinking about how her body felt in his arms, how soft her lips were, how sweet she’d tasted.
He knew he should regret kissing her, but he only wanted more. He knew the address of Ellie’s beach house. What if he moseyed over there?
Bad idea. Even drunk, he knew that. They worked together. He was her boss. And if Ellie was there to see him arrive, he’d never live it down.
He couldn’t believe he’d consider such a desperate act, even drunk. On
the other hand, Candy was something else. She made him think of the summer fireflies of his childhood that he’d chased with a jar to get a closer look at their magic.
Who could resist her?
Abruptly, he remembered that beach bum who’d danced with her. Carter had practically eaten her up with his eyes. Maybe that’s not where I want him to be equal, she’d said.
Maybe she was with him right now. She wasn’t the kind of girl who called it a night at 7:00.
The thought burned through him and he jumped out of bed, needing to occupy himself. He could get started on the new org chart, sketch out possible teams. He’d brought personnel thumbnails for that purpose.
Nah. His mind was too scattered. He’d go online, catch up on e-mail. He’d walked all the way to the kitchen before he remembered that Candy had his computer. Damn.
He channel surfed for a while, restless, legs jumping, skin itchy. An hour passed somehow and he found himself staring out the window at the ocean, swaying a little.
Hell, why not swim off the booze? A brisk dip would clear his head and tame his libido at the same time. He threw on his trunks, tucked his key in the mesh pocket and headed out.
The moonlit water was cool, but not brutal, and he took long, hard strokes parallel to the shore, swimming until his breath came in hard gasps. He rested in a dog paddle and checked out the horizon, squinting, since he was without his glasses. The moon created a streak of silver across the black, rolling water.
He noticed rhythmic splashes to his left and saw someone in a yellow bikini swimming straight out to sea.
Candy? She had that color suit—he’d stared at her in it all day—and the swimmer was plowing single-mindedly through the water, the way Candy took on the world.
He swam close enough to see that, sure enough, it was her. How far would she go? She was smart, but head-strong. She might exhaust herself before she realized it and not make it back. At that thought, everything in him gathered tight. If something happened to her…
He was about to go after her when she reversed course and swam his way, the water flashing silver with each stroke.
