Her Favorite Rival (12 page)

Zach had hesitated. Of course he’d hesitated. He had only a draft copy, one that he’d discovered a handful of typos in. There was an outside chance he could make the corrections and get a clean copy printed and bound, but not by breakfast. He explained that to Whitman, feeling like an apologist beneath the man’s unforgiving, steely gaze. But Whitman had been all easy affability as he waved off a few typos. He could read around spelling mistakes. He’d catch up with Zach at eight in the foyer.

As Zach had told Audrey, he hadn’t been in a position to say no to the man. It had been a direct request, almost an order, and Zach was smart and experienced enough to know that you didn’t second-guess or disappoint a guy like Whitman.

Had he considered Audrey in any of the above? The honest answer was “not really.” The conversation on the beach had happened so quickly, it had been over before he knew it. When he’d gone back to his room to shower and collect the report, he’d definitely thought about her reaction to him handing over a flawed version of their work. She was a stickler for details. But he’d figured she would understand that he hadn’t had much choice.

More fool him. She’d been white-hot furious, determined to see the situation as a landgrab from him. Which said a lot about the way she viewed him.

He’d thought they’d become friends over the past few days. He’d thought they liked each other.

Again, more fool him.

Shaking his head, he went to grab breakfast. Despite piling his plate high, though, he found he’d lost his appetite. Having Audrey’s words echoing in his head didn’t help.

You just hit a home run for yourself with
my
work. Congratulations, champ. You’ll go far.

He pushed his plate away. He considered himself a pretty honest guy. Reasonably self-aware. If he’d set out to accost Whitman and deliberately dangled the report in front of the man, he wouldn’t shy away from the fact. He was ambitious. He’d always been ambitious, and he wasn’t about to apologize for that. But he hadn’t engineered today’s meeting on the beach, and he hadn’t been the one to bring up the report. He’d been stuck between a rock and a hard place, and he’d done the smart thing. The same thing Audrey would have done, incidentally, had their positions been reversed, because at this stage in their careers, being ambitious meant they had to tug their forelocks on occasion and jump through whatever flaming hoop was on offer. He didn’t enjoy doing it, but he endured it because one day he knew he would be in control of his own destiny, in every possible way. It was a promise he’d made himself years ago, and he planned on honoring it.

Audrey had judged him and found him guilty without entering into a discussion. She’d jumped to the most obvious conclusion, and wasted no time condemning him. Frankly, it pissed him off. He didn’t like being painted as a ruthless butt kisser who was prepared to do anything to curry favor with the higher-ups—including sacrificing a colleague on the altar of his ambition.

She was out of line. Way out of line.

His self-righteous indignation lasted until lunchtime, when he was standing in the buffet line. He was reaching for a miniature chicken-and-brie baguette when a heavy hand landed on his shoulder.

“Here he is. Zach, I was just discussing your report with Rob. You’ve given us a great starting place.”

It was Whitman, with the chairman in tow.

“I particularly like the sound of this SWOT section you’ve put together,” Rob Atkinson said, his craggy face serious. “We’re going to need every advantage we can lay our hands on to hold our own against those big corporates over the next few years.”

For some reason he couldn’t explain, he glanced to his left. There, on the other side of the buffet, was Audrey. Her face was set into a politely neutral expression, but her eyes were hot with accusation.

This is what I knew would happen,
her gaze said.
Thanks for selling me up the river, jerkwad.

He had to admit, from where she stood, it looked pretty bad. As though her contribution to the report really had been overlooked, despite the fact that her name was right alongside his on the front cover.

Zach returned his focus to the two men in front of him, determined to fix this here and now.

“I can’t take all of the credit. Audrey Mathews and I—”

Whitman’s hand landed on his shoulder a second time in an unmistakable gesture of farewell. “We can talk about this more another time, Zach. Rob, I wanted to have a word with you and the team from Dulux before you head off on the store tour this afternoon...”

“Mr. Whitman,” Zach said, but the two men were already walking away.

He turned to face Audrey, hoping she’d at least witnessed his attempt to ensure that she enjoyed the credit she was due. She wasn’t there, though. He stepped away from the buffet and scanned the crowd. He couldn’t leave the situation like this. Not now that he knew that her prediction of events was closer to reality than his own.

He spotted her sitting outside at one of the tables in the courtyard. For the moment she was alone, even though seating was at a premium, and he made a beeline for her.

“Audrey,” he said when he arrived at her table.

She kept her attention on her plate. For all the world as though he wasn’t there.

“Let’s talk about this.” He reached for the empty chair beside her, only to discover it wouldn’t budge beneath his hand. It took him a moment to understand why. Glancing beneath the table, he saw that she’d hooked her foot behind the chair rung and was holding it in place.

“Seriously?” he asked.

She didn’t lift her gaze. “Go away.”

She sliced off a portion of frittata with her knife, the sound making a very distinct clink as metal hit china. He stared down at her shiny brown hair, trying to find the words to cut through her anger. It had been a long time since he’d cared so much about having someone’s good opinion.

“Audrey—”

“If you don’t go, I will hurt you with this fork.”

“We can fix this—”

She stood so quickly her chair almost toppled over. Still not glancing at him, she walked away.

He was considering his next move when Gary stopped beside him.

“Slick move getting the report to Whitman early. He’s happy as a clam.” He gave Zach an approving wink before moving off.

Zach gritted his teeth. Even though he knew he wasn’t the asshole in this situation, he was getting a pretty clear picture of how things must look from Audrey’s perspective. And it wasn’t pretty.

He owed her an apology. Not because he’d set out to do her wrong, but because circumstances had left her holding the shitty end of the stick. He might not have intended it to be that way, but it was what had happened, and it wasn’t fair.

This time he didn’t even consider going after her. She needed space. He’d give her some time, then try when they were in Melbourne. Perhaps he’d even wait until after they’d delivered their joint presentation. Having her moment in the sun with Whitman would surely go a long way toward assuaging her anger.

In accordance with his strategy, he kept his distance for the remaining day and night of the conference. He was thankfully seated at the far end of the plane for the flight home, and he grabbed a cab from the airport rather than pool with his colleagues.

He logged on to the internet the moment he got home, even though it was nearly midnight. It took him ten minutes to find a locally based online florist. He ordered the brightest, biggest bunch of flowers he could find and arranged for them to be delivered the following day. He kept the card simple—
I’m sorry. Can we please talk? I’ll even buy the pizza
—and sat back feeling marginally better.

Actions spoke louder than words, after all. Audrey might not want to listen to him, but she couldn’t ignore a big bunch of flowers.

At least, he hoped she couldn’t. Hopefully they would soften her resolve, and after their presentation Tuesday morning they could talk and put this misunderstanding behind them.

He stared at the order confirmation on his computer, remembering the laughter they’d shared while they worked on the report. He’d always felt as though he was on the outside looking in when it came to Audrey, but she’d let him in during those late nights and early mornings. He didn’t want to be on the outside again.

He wanted in. Not sexually, because that would never happen, but he wanted to be on the receiving end of her smiles again. He wanted to have the right to stop by her office and talk for five minutes, or to send her an email, simply because he thought it would amuse her.

Weary, he knuckled his eyes. Flowers. He had to trust in the flowers.

CHAPTER SEVEN

A
UDREY
HAD
A
morning meeting with a supplier the following day and didn’t arrive at work until midday. Her step was brisk as she made her way to the merchandising area. The first week after conference was always busy, and she’d come armed with a stash of muesli bars, having already resigned herself to no lunch and a late night at her desk in order to catch up.

It wasn’t until she was in the middle of the open-plan section of the department that she noticed the heads turning as she passed by. A few people waved; others smiled as though they were in on some secret she’d yet to hear. She smiled and waved and checked surreptitiously that her buttons were all buttoned and her fly zipped.

Yes and yes. Maybe her sparkling presence had simply been missed while she was away. A little bemused, she paused by her assistant’s cubicle.

“Hey, Lucy. How was your weekend?”

Lucy was in her early twenties and very pretty and smart. Audrey shared her with two other buyers, but Lucy made no secret of the fact that Audrey was her favorite.

The younger woman’s head came up when she heard Audrey’s voice.

“Oh, my God, I have been dying for you to get in. I wanted to call you so badly but I knew you were in that meeting. Plus I didn’t want to ruin your surprise.” Lucy flicked her auburn ponytail over her shoulder, her eyes bright with excitement.

Audrey lifted an eyebrow. “What surprise?”

“You’ll see,” Lucy said, standing and ushering Audrey toward her office.

Audrey stopped on the threshold, stunned by the towering floral display dwarfing her desk. Orchids and lilies and gerberas and roses and three different types of greenery, all arranged in a glossy black box.

“Get the truck out of here,” she said, momentarily awed by the sheer size of the thing.

“I know. It’s probably got its own gravitational field. Some of us were worried your desk might collapse beneath it.”

“Who are they from?” Audrey asked. Then her brain kicked in—because there was only one person in her life who would think that a floral tribute like this might be the answer to his prayers.

“You don’t know?” Lucy asked, frowning.

Audrey bent her mouth into a smile. “They’re probably from my parents.”

“Is it your birthday or something? I thought it wasn’t until March?”

Damn Lucy’s amazing memory.

“It is. But sometimes they do random things like this,” Audrey fibbed.

A small white envelope was taped to the box. Lucy plucked it off and passed it to Audrey.

“Only one way to find out for sure.” She was so tickled by the whole thing. Clearly she thought Audrey had embarked on a new romance or something equally flower-worthy.

Audrey made the mistake of glancing out into the office as she took the envelope. Two of Lucy’s fellow assistants had spun in their chairs and were watching unashamedly, indulgent smiles on their faces.

Zach was the biggest idiot under the sun for making such an obvious gesture so publicly. Where on earth was his brain at? If anyone found out he’d sent these flowers, the whole building would be gossiping about them. The office grapevine would have them doing it, engaged and married with a baby on the way by the end of the day.

Her cheeks were starting to ache from smiling as she pulled the card free from the envelope.

I’m sorry. Can we please talk? I’ll even buy the pizza—

Pizza. As if.

Audrey quickly slipped the card into the envelope, well aware that Lucy had a preternatural ability to read upside down as well as sideways.

“Yep, from my folks.” Audrey gave a small shrug.

“Really?” Lucy sagged with disappointment. “I thought maybe you’d been holding out on me.”

“No such luck.” Audrey tucked the card safely into her purse. The first chance she got she would burn it.

“Huh. Well, that’s a bit of an anticlimax, I have to say,” Lucy said.

“Sorry ’bout that.”

“Still, nice of your parents to think of you. Really sweet, actually.”

“Yeah.”

Audrey made a big deal out of dumping her bag and shedding her suit jacket, uncomfortable with telling so many white lies. Thankfully, Lucy took the hint and switched to business mode.

“Two messages while you were out, and I’ve proofed our page for the summer catalog and flagged a few things for you.”

“Great. Thanks. And before I forget...” Audrey pulled out the snow dome she’d bought. Lucy collected them, so Audrey made a point of picking her up a cheesy souvenir from every place she visited.

“Oh, thank you. It’s awesome.” Lucy shook the dome and watched flakes of snow settle around a giant pineapple wearing sunglasses. “Do you think it ever occurred to whoever designed this that snow and pineapples don’t go together?”

“Somehow I don’t think those considerations are top priority at the snow dome factory.”

They discussed a couple of other work matters before Lucy headed back to her desk. Audrey sat behind hers, grateful for the wall of flowers that hid her from view from the rest of the office.

Zach was demented—and damned lucky that she knew how to be discreet, even if he didn’t. As for his apology... He could stick it where the sun didn’t shine as far as she was concerned. She wasn’t interested in his mealymouthed excuses or explanations—especially after witnessing him bathing in the kudos from their joint effort firsthand at the conference. She’d almost ground her molars to dust as she stood there listening to Whitman and the chairman pat Zach on the back for all his hard work.