Beautiful Distraction (27 page)

It’s called self-respect.

Of which I didn’t show a lot last night.

The guy was a player who would bring me nothing but trouble.
I knew that the moment he entered The Black Rose, and my intuition had been
spot on, as usual. Swallowing my pride, I walked past furiously, not quite able
to ignore the flicker of amused interest in his eyes.

Mystery Guy didn’t follow me out of the kitchen. I felt a hint
of remorse as I grabbed the first shirt and jeans I found in the closet and
barricaded myself in the tiny bathroom cubicle to take a quick shower before
heading for work. I inspected myself in the mirror. Dark circles rimmed my
hazel eyes. My brown hair looked a mess, just like his disheveled mop had, only
it didn’t quite suit me as much as it did him. My skin looked pale, but it had
a dewy glow that comes only from lots of sleep or post-coital hormones. No need
to ask myself where it came from, because I sure as hell didn’t have a good
night’s sleep, so the glow only managed to enrage me more.

Seriously, what had I been thinking—bringing a guy
back home with me? And what had Sylvie been thinking, letting me make any sort
of decision in my drunken stupor? Now I was facing another dilemma. Did Sean, my
so-called boyfriend who wouldn’t quite DTR (define the relationship), expect me
to tell him? Would he be honest with me about a possible conquest?

Furiously I rubbed shower gel into my skin and shampooed my hair.
The hot water cleansed my body, but it didn’t quite manage to wash away my
shame. When I came out again, I had made a decision. Sean’s promotion party was
only a few days away, and I wouldn’t spoil it. But I vowed to tell him right
after the party, ask him for forgiveness, and do my best to work through our
issues. I liked him and wanted to see where it might lead in the future, so I
wouldn’t let a one-night stand come between us. What happened last night was
nothing but a bad decision made under the influence of booze and raging
hormones. Mystery Guy would not mess with my life, head, or panties ever again.

Bracing myself for more heated glances from those
penetrating green eyes, I took a deep breath and left the safety of my
bathroom.

“He’s gone,” Sylvie said as soon as I entered the kitchen.
She shot me a disapproving look, as though his leaving was my fault, and turned
away to wash her coffee cup. I should have been relieved and yet, for some
inexplicable reason, I sort of felt empty. Betrayed. Probably just another
notch in his bedpost.

“Did he say anything?” My voice came out all squeaky. She
looked at me from under thick, mascaraed lashes.

“He asked a few questions.”

“Oh? Like what?” I brushed a trembling hand through my hair
and moistened my lips. “Not that I care,” I mumbled, in case Sylvie got the
wrong idea.

She shrugged. “Since you don’t care, it doesn’t really
matter. Shouldn’t you be at work?”

I hated when she changed the subject like that. Or when she
sided with a guy, which she often did, and in particular when said guy was
good-looking. If I pressed the issue, she’d get instantly suspicious and think
I might have fallen for Mystery Guy, which wasn’t true because I didn’t even
know him and had no intention of ever seeing him again. Besides, what could he
have possibly asked? Maybe he wanted to know who won last night’s Lakers game.
Or he had asked her for a favor like calling a taxi. Whatever it was, I didn’t
need to know. He belonged to a past I was ready to forget.

I heaved a silent sigh and grabbed my purse from where I
must have tossed it on the floor last night. “See ya,” I grumbled, heading out
the door.

“Wait,” Sylvie called, running after me. “When are you
coming back home? I’m making dinner.”

Which, in Sylvie’s dictionary, was the equivalent of sifting
through hundreds of takeaway menu pamphlets and ordering in. She was unemployed
for less than a day, and already she sounded like a bored housewife. I needed
to get rid of her, and pronto, before I decided I might just have to get a divorce—metaphorically
speaking.

“Sorry, Sylvie. I’m at my mother’s tonight.” I couldn’t help
the feeling of complacency washing over me at her lost expression. Punishing
anybody wasn’t usually my style, but she should have just told me what Mystery
Guy said before he left. It would have made me more inclined to invite her over
to Mom’s, even though their icy silence and disapproving looks made me want to
run as fast as I could. Mom thought Sylvie was a pretentious bitch who was
friends with me because I was a pushover. And Sylvie thought Mom was a bitch
for not settling down with one guy for the sake of her only daughter. In other
words, Sylvie thought Mom should have provided a stable home rather than move
from town to town and man to man throughout my vulnerable adolescent years.
While they both had a point, I preferred staying on neutral ground, and keeping
out of their love/hate relationship, which is why I avoided throwing the two of
them in the same room at the same time.

“Is she still with—” Sylvie snapped her fingers in
thought. “What’s his name? You know, the guy from last week.”

“It was last month, and his name’s Gregg,” I said.

“Uh-huh. Not worth my brain cells remembering his name when
he’ll be old news by next week.” She waved her hand as though she couldn’t care
less.

I hated to admit Sylvie was right. “He’s old news already.”

“No. Already?” She laughed. “What was wrong with him? Too
nice? Too cute? Had a snoring problem?”

I shook my head signaling that I had no idea.

“There’ll be a new one soon,” Sylvie said. I raised my brows
meaningfully. She laughed, getting my hint. “Already?”

I nodded. “Apparently I’m meeting him tonight.”

“Can I come? Pretty please. You know how much I love to meet
Tina’s boyfriends. They’re like squeezing your hand into a Halloween candy bag.
You never know what you’ll get.” Her lips curled into a smile, and she cocked
her head to the side the way she always did when she was about to start a major
persuasion campaign.

“Hell, no.” I blinked and took a step back. “You’re not coming.”
She opened her mouth to protest so I cut her off. “Don’t even pretend to like
her, when you’re at each other’s throat all the time.”

“That’s not true…okay, maybe a little, but you know what I
like even less? Being forgotten by my best friend on a Tuesday night. Come on,
Brooke.” She leaned in conspiratorially. “Do you have any idea what might
happen if I spent a night all alone?” She paused for dramatic effect. “Someone
could break in. Or I could get so bored that I might end up finishing all the booze
and make out with our neighbor from number 4.”

Gross. The guy from number 4 was a major creep who walked
around in a bathrobe. Every time we stepped out of the building, he was in the
hallway, as though he knew we’d be leaving.

“Oh, come on, Brooke. Pretty please, I don’t want to be all
alone on Tuesday the 13th.”

I rolled my eyes. Sylvie loved melodrama and, in particular,
if it helped her get what she wanted. Soon bargaining would follow, and if that
didn’t do the trick she’d revert to good old blackmail. She had followed the
same patterns for the last twenty years, or ever since I refused to give her my
lunch box in kindergarten. I wasn’t going to stick around for that.

“I’ll scratch your back if you scratch mine,” she whispered.
“You want to know what Jett said?”

“Who’s Jett?” And that’s when it dawned on me. Mystery Guy.
He had introduced himself the evening we met, but the name was so unusual I
didn’t really catch it. I thought it was something like Jack, or Jake, or
Jeremiah, and the strange pronunciation was the result of his Southern accent.

Even his name sounded sexy and forbidden. I couldn’t help
but picture me moaning it while he kissed me all over my body. My face grew hot
and hotter. Dammit. This was all Sylvie’s fault. She knew more than I did. If
she wasn’t so openly ready to trade in her information, I wouldn’t be literally
panting at the sound of a guy’s name.

“Jett...I mean, Sylvie, I don’t have time for this.”

Crap. I was under his spell. I needed to get him out of my
system. And quick before I ended up making a complete fool out of myself. I
clutched my handbag to my chest and walked out the door, ignoring Sylvie’s
incredulous gawking.

“Wait, Brooke! Don’t leave me hanging,” she shouted after
me.

Throwing glances over my shoulder to make sure she wasn’t
following, I dashed for the parking spot around the block and jumped into my
car, ready to head out for a day of hard work, or what was left of it now that
it was almost lunchtime.

New York traffic was a nightmare. By the time I fought my
way downtown I was already three hours late. Dammit. Not only was
Jett—aka Mystery Guy— messing with my life, he was also ruining my
career. My boss, James, wouldn’t be pleased. In fact, as I reached the office and
dropped into my swivel chair, my fingertips starting to type furiously on the
keyboard to check emails and appointments for the day I could almost feel the
hot waves of anger coming from James’s office. Maybe he hadn’t noticed my
absence. Oh, who was I kidding? The guy knew
everything.
And, for a gay guy, he sure knew how to yell, which was
what I was about to hear in three…

Two.

One.

“Brooke! Move your sweet ass over here this instant!”

The office dragon had spied me. Now I was in big trouble.
With a deep sigh I sat up, smoothed over my pencil skirt, and headed for the
inevitable with slow, measured steps. In my mind I could hear the scary pounds
of a drum warning of imminent doom. Wendy, the receptionist, shot me a pitiful
look. I smiled back and fought back the urge to pretend I had to leave again
for a business meeting. I was a grown up and by no means scared of James.

“Close the door,” James said as I entered his office. I did
as he bid and settled into the chair opposite from his huge mahogany desk. My
hands folded in my lap, I looked up to meet his angry gaze.

Even though he had to be at least ten years my senior, he
didn’t look a day older than thirty. His highlighted blond hair was brushed
back from his smooth forehead. His skin had a golden glow which everyone
attributed to weekly tanning sessions, and it stood in strong contrast to his
crisp, white shirt and black suit. His piercing blue eyes focused on me,
measuring me up and down. I wrapped my suit jacket tighter around me as though
to protect myself from his inquisitive gaze. Why was he staring at me like
that? Why wouldn’t he just start his usual tirade, include a warning or two,
and get it over and done with?

I was about to apologize for my lateness when a knock rapped
at the door.

“Come in,” James said, looking up from me to our new intern,
a twenty-something guy called Tim.

“Here are your papers, boss.” Tim smiled shyly, which in
turn had James’s face lighting up like a Christmas candle. Tim had a great body
with well-defined muscles and taut skin the color of melted chocolate, which
made me believe he spent a lot of time at the fitness center.

“Thank you, darling. Better now than never.” James’s lips
curved upwards as his eyes devoured Tim’s perky ass.

“Those are the ones you requested last week. Sorry I’m
behind schedule, but I was late today. Traffic.” Tim shot me a conspiratorial
look, as though I knew exactly what he was talking about, which I didn’t. Tim
had made it a habit of being late; I was always on time.

Apart from today.

“Don’t worry about it.” James waved his hand playfully. I
wondered if he would be so kind to me? “Isn’t there a saying ‘save the best for
last’? Catch you at lunch.”

Tim flashed his white, even teeth before closing the door
behind him.

“So.” James sighed and turned to face me. I swallowed past
the sudden lump in my throat as his easygoing expression turned a few shades
darker.

No preferential
treatment for you, Stewart.

“I’m sorry I was late,” I said to break the uncomfortable
silence. “There was some paperwork I needed to go through, and I thought I
might as well do it from home.” Which wasn’t a lie. I had been planning to go
through paperwork last night when Sylvie persuaded me to join her at our usual
joint and Mystery Guy came in between.

“Don’t bullshit me. I know you’re lying. But that’s not why
I called you in.” He moistened his lips and his gaze scanned the door behind
me, and then settled back on me. “What went down with Mayfield?”

“He didn’t turn up.” James’s eyebrows shot up and he looked
displeased. A sense of foreboding washed through me. Maybe Mystery Guy reported
back to his boss, who complained to James, and now I was in bigger trouble than
I thought. “Why are you asking?”

“Because I had a phone call this morning.” James’s frown
intensified. Uh-huh. That wasn’t good. I swallowed hard and imagined myself
cleaning out my desk.

“Mayfield’s offering you a job in his department,” James
said, eyeing me. “He wants you to start straight away.”

My mouth dropped and I almost toppled off my chair. Holy
cow. Being rude was all it took to land a job with a big firm? And that’s when
I remembered that I had been doing more than talking. All heat drained from my
cheeks. I had banged Mystery Guy, who in turn persuaded his boss to hire me. I
could only imagine his arguments.

She is very,
very
good
. We need more people like her,
people who are cooperative and forthcoming, and who take business to a whole
new level.

Oh, God.

I had just slept my way up the corporate ladder.

Talk about cheap.

“Obviously, I said that you’d rather stay with us because
you’re very happy with your benefits package,” James continued.

I bobbed my head to signal I was following. Actually, my
benefits package wasn’t that great. I wanted to point out I was still waiting
for a promised pay rise six months ago, but I kept my mouth shut.

James grimaced, and my heart sank in my chest before he even
opened his mouth to relay the bad news. “I’m sorry, Brooke, but I’ll have to
fire you. Mayfield said he’d cut off all our contracts if I didn’t let you go.”
He brushed his hand through his hair, as though relieved it was over, adding,
“It was great working with you though.”

Holy mother of pearls!

That wasn’t a good enough reason to fire me, was it?
Somewhere at the back of my mind I realized I could sue his ass for…oh I don’t
know…but a lawyer sure as fuck could come up with something. James said
Mayfield would cut off all our contracts. What kind of psycho would do that to
hire one person? It’s not like I got famous showing off my skills on
The Apprentice
. Nor I was like Sylvie, graduating
in the top of my class. What the hell did Jett—no, I wouldn’t even give
him the courtesy of calling his name—Mr. Arrogant Guy, say about me?

My mind was spinning, and I could hear the blood rushing in
my ears. I was not sure if I should be angry or happy or both?

It took me a moment to grasp the meaning of James’s words.
My heart began to drum in my ears and my cheeks burned. I had finally landed a
job with a big firm. Granted, it wasn’t Delaware & Ray, but a beginning.
The big break I had been waiting for. So why was I hesitating? Why didn’t it
feel like sweet success?

Because you didn’t
earn it.

My subconscious reared her nasty head. I had slept with
someone in a higher position than mine, but I didn’t do it on purpose. I wasn’t
a ho, because that’s a woman who deliberately sleeps with a guy for the sole
purpose of gaining a personal advantage, financially or otherwise.

“I’ll have to think about it,” I said.

“No, Brooke, you won’t. They’re huge. They have connections.
They deal with the big jobs. Without them we’d be long lost in the pond of
small-time realtors.” James hesitated. I sensed there was something he didn’t
tell me, but I didn’t press the issue. Whatever he had going with Mayfield was
none of my business. An array of emotions washed over James’s face, and then
his features relaxed and his face became an impassive mask. “Come on, you knew
you wouldn’t be working here forever. It’s a great chance for you. Don’t mess
it up.”

I took a deep breath and willed my trembling hands to stop
shaking. Mayfield Realties was a huge firm with offices all around the States
and Europe. While I didn’t quite agree with their business practices, I
couldn’t argue James’s case.

“You might want to hurry. They need you in their head office
before the end of the day,” James said, jolting me out of my guilty conscience.
He turned away from me and grabbed his phone to signal the conversation was
over.

“So that’s it?” I stood and regarded him incredulously.
Granted, this hadn’t been my dream job, and I never expected to be getting all
mushy about leaving, but I couldn’t help the sudden melancholy. James had given
me a job during the recession, when no one was willing to take a chance on an
inexperienced college graduate. He had taught me a lot about the business, so I
sort of expected more than a head nod and showing me the door.

“Don’t forget us when you’re making it big in the business,
Chica,” James whispered not looking up from his phone.

I smiled and walked around his desk to give him a hug,
whispering in his ear, “Thank you for everything.” Without looking back, I left
James’s office and said a tearful goodbye to Wendy, who was surprised to see I
was fired, and even more surprised to see how happy I was. After lots of
promises to keep in touch, I packed up the few belongings that cluttered my old
desk: a few pictures of Mom with the two men that came closest to being a dad,
and a cactus Sylvie got me the morning I landed the job. It was my lucky
cactus.

“No man’s left behind,” I whispered as I placed the cactus
on the front seat and secured it with the seatbelt, then programmed the GPS to
take me to the Mayfield Realties main office opposite from Delaware & Ray.