Back to the Drawing Board (4 page)

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Authors: L.L. Collins

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BOOK: Back to the Drawing Board
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Julia reached over and placed her hand on my bare forearm, and I felt it again. Electric shocks traveled from her fingertips to every nerve ending in my body. “Julia,” she corrected, and I watched as she lifted her drink to her lips and took a small sip. Her eyes never left mine the entire time. I knew I should look away. Hell, I needed to get out of here and back to the safe confines of my hotel room. I couldn’t move, transfixed by her small dimple and the way her fingers were now running softly over my arm.

The sound of smashing glass made both of us jump and broke our physical contact. Turning, I saw the offender holding up his hands, a sheepish look on his face at the beer and glass surrounding him. I wanted to go over and shake his hand and tell him thank you because now I was able to think with my brain again. I could feel her staring at me, but she didn’t touch me again.

“Julia,” I said, trying to sound indifferent. There was something about her that threw me off of my game, and that wasn’t good, especially if I ended up working with her. I had so many questions I wanted to ask her, one being what her dad thought of me, and if I had a snowballs chance in hell of getting the job, but I knew I couldn’t cross that line. I had to find a way out of here without offending her but yet keeping my chance at getting this internship alive. Who knew how much clout she had with her old man? He did put her as head of interns at her young age. “It was great to see you again.” I tossed a twenty on the counter and moved to scoot off of the bar stool when I felt her touch my arm again, stopping me in my tracks.

“Please stay,” she said. I didn’t want to look at her, but it was like she had a magnetic force pulling my eyes directly to hers. She blinked, her big eyes searching my face for an answer I didn’t seem to have. What did she want with me? Was she just one of those girls that enjoyed the conquest? Did she have Daddy issues? Whatever it was, I couldn’t do it. I’d worked too hard to get to this place, and I’d be damned if a girl was going to ruin it for me.

When I didn’t answer right away, she sighed, removing her arm from mine and looking down into her glass. My stomach dropped. So she wanted a drink. Maybe two. I could handle that, right? Even if she did want something more from me, I could handle walking away. What I couldn’t do was offend her and have her go back and tell her dad any number of stories she could concoct. I was screwed no matter, and not in the good way.

The bartender walked up just then and I signaled for him to get both of us another. I slid back into my bar stool and she turned her head and caught my eye, flashing a small smile that made that cute dimple come out in her left cheek. “You did a great job today,” she offered, and I found myself frozen again. What was I supposed to say to that?

“Thank you,” I answered.

“Don’t be afraid of me,” she said. I wanted to laugh because that was exactly how I felt about sitting next to her in this bar. Terrified. For multiple reasons.

Instead, I played dumb. “Afraid? Why would I be afraid of you?” I’d learned over the years that the more I acted like a self-assured, almost cocky, guy, the better it worked for me. As they say, fake it until you make it. I’m the ultimate faker.

I watched her lift up her drink and tip it backward, the liquid passing between her lips and down her throat. The motion mesmerized me, and it wasn’t until she set it down and licked the remnants off of her bottom lip that I realized how hard I was staring at her.

“Because,” she said, flipping her hair behind her shoulder. I smelled a whiff of whatever shampoo she used, and it made me want to run my fingers through her hair. “I’m
his
daughter and you want this internship more than anything you’ve wanted in your life.”

Damn, she was good. I had nothing to say to answer her because she was exactly right. If she were any other woman in this bar tonight, I’d turn on my charm and buy her drinks and maybe even take her back to my hotel. I had no issues spending the night with a beautiful woman. Except this woman came with baggage.

“You don’t have to be afraid of me,” she continued when I didn’t answer. “I don’t have any idea who he’s choosing, but your interview was the only one he asked me to come in and be part of. I’d say that’s good news. Last year, I didn’t go to any of the interviews. I’ve seen your stuff, Carter. You’re talented.”

“Talent only gets you so far,” I said back. “But thank you for trying to settle my nerves.”

“You’re from Florida, right?” she asked. I wanted to smile because she’d looked up information about me, but I forced myself not to.

“Yes.”

“It’s a lot different here.” She picked up her drink again and I forced my eyes to the flat screen television above her head. I couldn’t watch her drink that again. It was like foreplay to my libido, and if there was one thing I knew could
never
happen, it was that.

“That’s what I’m hoping for,” I answered honestly. I was ready to say goodbye to Florida, even though my family lived there. Plus, I could have them come out to see me.
You’re getting way ahead of yourself, McIntyre
, I thought to myself. This time, I did smile. I’ve only been Carter McIntyre for five years, and it still made me proud to hear it. Before, my name had been Carter William Collier. After my parents had gotten married, I’d changed my name to Carter Blake McIntyre. I wanted my name to represent the man that should’ve had me all along.

“Where did you go?” Julia turned her head, watching me.

“Sorry,” I laughed, picking up my own drink and downing it in one gulp. I needed to get out of here. She was muddling my brain. “Have you always lived in Denver?”

“Yes,” she answered. “Born and raised. I’ve been to Florida a few times, though. My grandparents used to live there.”

“Used to?”

“Yeah, they passed away years ago.”

I felt like a tool. “Oh. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” she said.

“Where did they live?”

She tapped her fingers on the edge of her glass. Her nails were painted light pink and perfectly manicured, but what I noticed the most was the lack of ring on her ring finger. Not that she couldn’t have a serious boyfriend, but at least she wasn’t engaged or married. Maybe her flirtation was just part of who she was, and I wouldn’t have anything to worry about after all.

Julia laughed, and I wanted to close my eyes against the feeling it gave me in my chest. “I can’t remember. Isn’t that crazy? We went there many times and I can’t remember what the town is called. I know the beach was beautiful, and it was also hot as hell.”

It was my turn to laugh. “That describes most of the state,” I told her. “My family and I live in the Fort Myers area, which is the west coast, the gulf side. I went to college on the east coast, though.”

“I’ll have to ask my parents what it’s called,” she said. “So you’re going home tomorrow?”

“Yes,” I nodded. “To wait for the call on whether I’m moving or going to keep searching for another internship.” I know that wasn’t all I was searching for, but I kept that thought to myself.

She signaled for both of us to get a refill, and I knew I should probably stop or I was more likely to say too much to her. I told myself this would be the last one. I wanted to know about her, but I couldn’t decide which question was better to ask.

“Don’t worry about it, Carter,” she said. God, I loved the way she said my name. “I have the feeling I’m going to be seeing you here
really
soon.” She leaned over and put her lips so close to my ear, I could feel her warm breath. “I’m looking forward to working with you every day.”

“T-tell me about you,” I found myself saying. Damn the alcohol loosening my resolve to keep my mouth shut. I couldn’t get involved with her even if I didn’t get the internship.

She shrugged. “Nothing to tell. I’m twenty-four, and I work for my parents. My mom is an architect, too. That’s how they met. She’s the Sandes in Gibbons, Sandes, and Jacobs. Well, she was before they got married, of course. I’m single, and don’t have much of a life other than my work. Wow, I sound boring, don’t I?”

I wanted to tell her no, she didn’t sound boring at all, but my brain was stuck on the line ‘I’m single.’ I wanted to ask her if she even wanted to be an architect, with both of her parents being successful architects, but I knew that was too much personal information. I just needed to bide my time and be courteous and then get the hell out of here. Soon. “Not boring at all. Do you have any siblings?” Siblings were safe, right?

A look of pain crossed her face before she quickly masked it and picked up her drink and downed it in one gulp.
Uh oh.
Looked like that wasn’t a great subject to broach. Just when I was about to let her off the hook and change the subject, she pinned me with her gaze again. “I have an older brother.” The way she said it told me everything:
I don’t want to talk about it
.

I smiled and went back to my own drink, guzzling the liquid. My head was spinning and I knew I was way beyond where I should’ve stopped. “What about you? What about your family?” I wanted to laugh at her question. Whatever her baggage was, I’m sure it wasn’t anything like the tabloid story mine was. I also knew I couldn’t tell her the entire story.

“I have two brothers and a sister,” I answered. God, I couldn’t wait to see them again. When I was with Gretchen, Jackson, and now baby Logan, I felt like I could breathe again. Seeing my parents getting the life they deserved with each other made me realize that everything worked out for them, and it was all okay now.

“Older or younger?” I knew she was just asking to make small talk, but this conversation was going to get awkward fast.

“All younger. A lot younger. It’s a long story, but suffice it to say my parents weren’t together after I was born until just five years ago. They were only eighteen when I was born. So my siblings are a lot younger than me. The youngest, Logan, was just born a few weeks ago.”

I said way more than I should’ve, and I knew it by the look on her face. “Wow,” she finally answered. “That sounds like an epic love story.” Her eyes were kind of glossed over and I knew she was toast. But she was right. The story of my parents
was
epic. I felt the stinging of tears coming behind my eyes, and I cleared my throat against it. I needed to get a grip.

“Two fireball shots, please,” I heard her voice say. Oh no. I didn’t need any shots. I held up my hand to tell the bartender no, but she placed her hand over mine and stopped me. “Let’s celebrate,” she answered.

“Celebrate what?” I had to ask. I was trying to breathe through the fact that she was still touching me.

She rolled her eyes. “You, silly. Carter McIntyre. Coming to Denver. Sitting here with me having a drink. About to become my coworker. Going back home tomorrow to see his baby siblings and his parents with a great story I want to hear the rest of someday.”

I wanted to argue with her, but I couldn’t make my mouth form the words. Her warm hand was still over mine, and I fought the urge to lace my fingers with hers. We were both beyond rational thought, but I was still trying to hang on to my last shred of competency. The bartender put the shots in front of us, and she picked hers up, arching her eyebrow to tell me to do the same. I followed, picking it up. Julia clinked our glasses together and winked at me. We both put the shot up to our lips and drank. I fought against the urge to close my eyes at the burning sensation going down into my stomach.

“Fireball,” she giggled, and I decided I loved that sound, too. I wasn’t sure there was anything of hers I didn’t find attractive. She uncrossed her legs and moved closer to me. The smooth skin of her leg touched the jean material of mine, but it felt like she touched my bare skin. “Let’s do another one.”

“I need to get back to my hotel,” I tried to argue. “I have an early flight.”

“Just a little longer,” she pleaded. “You’re such a nice guy. So different than most of the Denver guys.” I wasn’t sure what that meant or if she had maybe been burned by a few too many of them, but I couldn’t speak.

I didn’t even know what time it was or how many more drinks we’d had by the time Julia grabbed her small purse and stood up. And by stood up, I mean slid off of the stool and hit the floor. She giggled uncontrollably, and I laughed, too. She was in no condition to get home by herself.

“Come on,” I picked her up and wrapped my arm around her slender waist, trying not to notice how well she fit next to me. “How close do you live to here?”

She blinked her eyes at me like I asked her an algebra equation. “You’re really handsome,” she answered instead of telling me where she lived. I sucked in a breath. She was so close to me that I could see small flecks of brown in her blue eyes and smell the cinnamon on her breath from the fireballs.

I told myself she had no idea what she was saying right now, and to just let her comment go. “Let’s go, Julia. I’ll take you to my hotel, it’s just down the street. I’ll sleep on the couch.” Getting her to the hotel proved to be a challenge, because she was wearing heels and definitely not sober enough to walk straight. I had a feeling she didn’t drink like this often and wondered what made her do it tonight.

When we got into the elevator, she rested her head on my chest and closed her eyes. My head swam with too much alcohol and the intoxication of her body pressed into mine. Her arms snaked around my waist, and I stood, frozen, watching as the number climbed on the digital screen. Neither of us said a word and I’m not sure I was even breathing. Just when I thought she might’ve passed out on me, the elevator dinged and the door opened. She stepped back, her breathtaking eyes looking directly into mine.

“Thanks, Carter,” she said, lacing her fingers with mine as we stepped off the elevator.
She won’t remember this tomorrow, and neither will you,
I told myself. Hell, as far I knew I could be dreaming right now. I unlocked the door and held it open for her. She went into the bathroom without a word, and I stood in the middle of the room, running my hands through my hair. I had no idea what to do now. Here I was, in my hotel room with the daughter of the man that I wanted to give me the most coveted job in the industry. We’d both had had too much to drink, and she was hot.

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