Falling Into Drew (4 page)

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Authors: Harriet Schultz

BOOK: Falling Into Drew
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CHAPTER 7

 


Of all the offices in New York City, he had to walk into mine,” Kate began before Liz could even say hello.

“You start a conversation by paraphrasing Humphrey Bogart in
Casablanca
? What man walked into your office?”

Kate groaned. “Drew O’Connor.” As soon as she said the name she pulled the phone away from her ear to avoid the eardrum-puncturing shriek she knew would follow. Liz didn’t disappoint her.

When the actress calmed down, she whispered, “Are you saying that Drew found you? That he was so captivated that he somehow tracked you down? Tell me what happened. I’m dying here!”

Kate laughed. It felt good to release some of the bottled up tension that had gripped her the moment she saw Drew. “I told you that an agent for some retired athlete met with me about a book the jock wanted to write, but he wouldn’t reveal the name of his client. Well, guess who that client turned out to be.”

“Oh. My. Fucking. God. I know because you just told me, but don’t tell me. What is he like? Did he remember you?”

Before Kate could answer another shriek came through the phone. “You swore that you would show him your panties if you ever saw him again!”

“Shit, I forgot.”

“Convenient memory lapse, sweet thing. Well, you’ll just have to do it the next time you see him. There will be a next time, yes?’

“That’s up to him since he’s uncertain about the book we talked about. But as for that insane promise…first of all, I’d had two vodkas on an empty stomach when I made it and I thought there was less than zero chance that I’d ever see him again. I am NOT going to show him anything that’s under my clothes!” Kate fanned her face when she imagined Drew watching her slowly slide her skirt up her legs.

“Methinks you protest too much, lady, but I’ll drop it if you tell me how he looked. I want details!”

Kate grinned. She kicked off her heels and ran her feet over the conference room’s plush carpet. “Okay, I can do that. Let me see, he’s over six feet tall, maybe about six-two or three, his body’s slim, but muscular with broad shoulders. Dark brown, almost black hair that looks like it would curl if he wore it longer, but it’s pretty short and a little messy, like he doesn’t want to bother with it. Hmm, let me think.” She closed her eyes and visualized him. “His skin is fair with the usual dark scruff and his lips…I’m not going to think about those.  His eyes are an amazing shade of blue that remind me of a sapphire or the most expensive tanzanite. Wow, I really did study him, didn’t I?”

“I’m drooling here. Tell me about his clothes.”

“All black, like the first time I saw him. Jeans, sweater, fitted leather jacket — not the motorcycle kind; this one had zippers, but looked very Italian designer — wide leather belt and boots. Stylish bad boy clothes.”

“Cut it out with the bad boy shit. It sounds like this man could be yours if you want him. The question is, what are you going to do about it?”

“Nothing.”

Liz growled in frustration. “Oooh! I want to wring your neck! You’re obviously into him, so if you have a chance to hook up with Drew O’Connor, you’d be a fool not to. We need to meet for a drink after work so I can talk some sense into you. If I fail, maybe you can pass him along to me. The women he’s usually with are blond. I’m blond.”

“No!” The intensity of Kate’s reaction surprised her. It made no sense, but the thought of Drew with Liz, or any other woman, upset her.

“That’s the reaction I was hoping for sweet thing, and it tells me a lot,” cooed Liz in her best Southern drawl. “What about that drink?”

“I’d love to, but if you weren’t in that windowless studio your soap shoots in, you’d know that it’s started to snow and they’re predicting a blizzard. I’m going to head home, put on comfy sweats, heat up some soup and watch television.”

“Sounds good. Boring, but good.” She paused for a second. “Shit, they’re calling me to the set, so rain check on that drink. And Kate?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m jealous!”

Kate laughed with delight. For the first time since she’d met Liz their freshman year at Vassar College, she was the one with the hot guy instead of her gorgeous friend. Not that she was
with
Drew, but at least he knew who she was. “Get a grip, Porter,” she told herself, scooping up the papers she’d brought to the meeting as a prop.

Walking past her assistant’s desk she told Theresa to go home. “It’s awful outside and I’m going to leave in five minutes anyway.”

The relief on her assistant’s face was obvious. “You’re sure? I could…”

Kate turned, halfway into her office. “Go home and be careful walking. The streets are slippery and I need you here tomorrow unless there really is a blizzard and we close down.”

She bent to pull on the knee-high, rubber-soled boots she kept in the office for snow days and banged the back of her head into her desk when her phone pinged to announce a new text. “Shit,” she muttered rubbing the sore spot on her scalp. The phone was buried in her purse and it took a second ping for her hand to locate it. When she saw the name of the sender, she almost dropped the phone. Drew O’Connor was texting her — her, Kate Porter. He probably wanted to tell her he’d decided against the book since he’d made it clear that the idea of writing about his life made him uncomfortable.

She took a breath and pulled up the message —
meet me for a drink? I’m near your office and we need to talk.

If it weren’t for that question mark, she would have texted an immediate
uh uh, no way
. That bit of punctuation at the end of the first sentence meant he was asking, even if it sounded like an order. Drew was the kind of man women never said “no” to and she had zero experience with men like him.

She wondered whether Drew’s invitation was for Kate, the woman, or Kate Porter, the editor? It shouldn’t matter, yet it did. Maybe he’d felt the same zing she had when their hands touched. She tapped her chin with her index finger, considering how to respond. Liz would tell her to man up and go. Screw it. She typed quickly and hit send before she could change her mind.

Where? When?

Then she waited. Would he reply? Did her message make her look desperate? She hoped not. Maybe she should have ignored the text until she was home and settled in her sweats when it would have been too late to meet. The phone’s ping interrupted her thoughts.

I’ll be in your building’s lobby in five minutes. Wait there.

There was that arrogant order again, but instead of making her angry, it sounded sexy and decisive, as if he were as anxious to see her as she was to see him.

 

“Damn it O’Connor, you did it again,” Charles griped when he and Drew left the publishing company’s office building and stood on the snowy sidewalk, waiting for Charles’ town car to pick them up.

“What did I do?” Drew asked in all innocence.

“You knew I was into that editor, but she took one look at you and I became invisible.”  He shook his head in disgust and muttered a few choice curse words. Once they were in the limo, Charles told the driver to drop him off at his place first and then continue further downtown to Drew’s. He was in no mood to spend more time with his chick-magnet friend.

“I’m sorry if I…no, I’m not.” Drew’s fair skin flushed. “You’re my best friend. I would never come on to someone you wanted, but your hot editor turned out to be the woman I met that day, the one you know that I’ve thought about since then, so…if you want to get technical, I saw her first.”

“Jeez, don’t get all territorial on me. You’ve never had a problem sharing before.” Charles grinned at the other man, remembering some of their more interesting nights.

Drew’s jaw clenched as he tried to control his temper. “That was then and those women were into that. This one wouldn’t be.”

Intrigued, Charles tested out his hunch the same way Liz had with Kate. “You have your choice of women and I like this one. What’s one woman more or less? She seemed interested in me until you showed up, so give me a shot at her, okay?”

Drew didn’t care if his reaction was irrational. “No,” he growled. “And if you want to continue being my friend, back off. Kate’s mine.”

Charles had to bite his tongue to keep the smile off his face. Drew hadn’t reacted this way to a woman since…well, maybe not ever. “Okay, you win. I bet she has equally beautiful friends that I’ll meet if you two start something.” The limo pulled to the curb and Charles opened the door, but before he got out, he squeezed Drew’s thigh and said, “Go get her, champ.”

“Who the fuck knows if she’ll have me.”

Charles leaned his elbows on the limo’s roof and studied his friend. “You’re kidding, right? You never doubt yourself.”

“She’s different.” Drew shrugged his shoulders. “But I’m used to working hard for what I want.” He instructed the driver to head back uptown, pulled Kate’s business card from his pocket and sent the text inviting her for a drink.

 

CHAPTER 8

 

Kate felt like a teenager before a first date with the captain of the football team. Her heart raced as her eyes scanned her office building’s crowded lobby. She expected to find Drew waiting for her, but he wasn’t there.

Her excited smile shifted into a frown while her mind busily made up excuses for his absence, the most obvious being that he wasn’t going to show. Maybe he’d been more than five minutes away when he’d sent the text, but it had been fifteen minutes since his last message.

Drew O’Connor was nothing like the polite, punctual, predictable men she usually dated. He was far out of her league so until she knew more, she’d be Kate Porter, editor, a role she was comfortable with and knew well. That woman would only wait a few minutes before deciding that this aspiring author was not only unreliable, but also unprofessional. That woman wouldn’t wait around on a snowy night for him to show up. She’d leave, so that was what she’d do.

Before Kate finished the thought, Drew came tearing through the building’s revolving door. “I’m sorry. Traffic was a bitch and the car got stuck behind a snowplow.” He rubbed his hands together. “Christ, it’s freezing out there. Feel how cold my hands are,” he said, then grasped hers to demonstrate, but quickly released them. “I hope you weren’t waiting long. Forgive me?”

“I just came off the elevator myself,” she said coolly to hide the rush of desire from the brief feel of his skin on hers. When she met his blue-eyed gaze, he looked so sincere that it was obvious he was telling the truth. “What car are you talking about?”

“Besides being my agent, Charles is my best friend. But he’s a spoiled rich boy who’s had a car and driver since he was born. He doesn’t have the patience for taxis or the subway so I rode home with him and then came here. I expected to be back in five minutes…”

“Not a problem,” Kate interrupted, shifting the conversation when she noticed the curious looks being directed at them. For a moment, she’d forgotten that Drew was famous. “This part of town has a lot of bars where people hang out after work. Should I choose or would you like to?” She doubted that Drew would leave the decision to her.

“I don’t suppose you’d want to have that drink at my apartment.” A charming twinkle accompanied his hopeful smile.

She couldn’t resist grinning back. “You suppose right. This is a business meeting, so let’s go somewhere a little more public. “

“A business meeting? Right, of course.” That wasn’t what Drew intended when he invited her for a drink, but if thinking that made her comfortable, he’d go along with it. “We don’t have to stay around here since Charles is in for the night and I have the car. I live downtown. You?”

“Me too, but I’m not saying where.” She tossed her hair, surprised to realize that she was flirting.

“There’s a bar in my neighborhood where no one will bother us. We’ll go there and afterward the driver can drop you at your apartment so you don’t have to take a cab or slog home in the snow.”

He didn’t wait for her to agree and took her hand as they walked to the car. Since authors didn’t hold hands with their editors, this was clearly not about business. Drew O’Connor was with Kate, the woman. That answered one question. It could also kill their professional relationship. Yet walking out of a New York office building holding Drew O’Connor’s hand, she didn’t care.

It was snowing heavily as they rode downtown, so they mostly commented on the weather until Drew suddenly reached for one of her loose curls and ran his fingers down its length. “Silky. Even with your hair pulled into a pony tail that day, I knew it would be.”

Kate shivered. Too fast, too fast, she told herself. She fought an overwhelming urge to cover his hand with hers. Instead she asked, “Why were you at St. Patrick’s that day?”

He fidgeted and pulled the shoulder strap of the seat belt away from his chest as if it were suddenly tight. “Every year I arrange a Mass to be said for my grandmother. We were close and although I don’t go to church any more, she was devout.” He shrugged. “So I do it. For her.”

“You must have loved her a lot,” Kate said, touched by his obvious affection for his grandmother.

“I did. When I was a kid…never mind. It’s a long story.” It was Drew’s turn to change the subject. “Why were you lighting a candle?”

“My uncle died last year. Cancer. When he was sick, I’d light candles for him whenever I had a chance. It didn’t help, but it made me feel better and became a habit, so now I do it for anyone who’s sick. It’s frustrating when you can’t do anything to help someone you love.”

“I know that feeling,” Drew said softly, a troubled look on his face. “I’m sorry you lost him, but I’m not sorry that we were there at the same time.” He laid his hand atop hers and she curled her fingers around his.

“Me too,” Kate murmured. She’d have to remember to ask him what he meant about not being able to help someone he loved once the book was underway. There was a story there, but it was obvious he didn’t want to talk about it now.

The car pulled to the curb on a narrow street. Drew helped her to navigate the piles of snow on the sidewalk as he led her into a bar that had no sign outside its metal door. A few people sat perched on stools, but no one bothered to look at who’d walked in. Drew nodded to the bartender and kept Kate’s hand in his as they walked toward a small table in the back. He politely held a chair for her, then sat in one beside it instead of opposite and rested his arm on the back of hers.

“You must be part bat and have night vision. I can barely see you,” Kate said, squinting.

“Give your eyes a chance to adjust. I like to hang out here because no one gives a shit about who I am and if someone did, Lou would toss them out on their ass.” He smirked and looked around. “Not your kind of place, is it?”

“No, but I get why you like it. People in my lobby stared at you when you came to pick me up. Being watched all the time must get old.”

“That’s an understatement, but you learn to ignore it.” He stood and she looked up at him, a question on her face. “My name is Drew and I’ll be your server. What can I get you from the bar?”

In between laughs, she told him she’d have a beer. “Whatever’s on tap is fine.” He looked surprised, but went to get their drinks. Kate was able to see well enough by now to admire his profile as he leaned on the bar chatting with Lou. The bartender turned to look her way and then shook his head. What was that about? Did he wonder what Drew was doing with a woman like her? There was nothing wrong with her looks, but Victoria’s Secret would never beg her to appear in their catalog and, based on photos, Drew’s usual dates were blond, long-legged models. She suddenly felt very awkward in her conservative skirt and blouse.

Drew placed their beers on the table, sat, and turned toward her, frowning when he noticed the change in her mood. “What’s up? If you hate this place, we can go…”

“No,” she said, resting her hand on his arm. “This is fine, but it’s so out of the way and dark that I…no, it’s silly.” She took a sip of beer.

Drew leaned toward her, close enough that she could feel his breath on her cheek. “Ask the question. I may not answer, but I won’t lie. What is it?”

She met his gaze. “This is the kind of place you take a woman you don’t want to be seen with. Am I right?”

“You could be, but my reason for taking you someplace where no one will see us is different from what it sounds like you’re imagining. Hell, if I weren’t me, I’d proudly walk through Times Square with my arm around you!”

“I didn’t mean…” Kate began, but he cut her off.

“No, let me finish. We’re here instead of at some crowded midtown hangout because I protect the privacy of the people I care about. You’re now one of those people and believe me, it’s a very select group. I simply don’t want to drag you into the circus that’s my world, at least not yet.” He smiled and ruffled her hair. “Now lighten up, woman. I’m with you because I want to be with you.”

She rested her chin on her hand, tilted her head and lowered her lashes, suddenly shy. “We just met. We hardly know each other, so how can you say you care about me?”

He threw his hands up in exasperation. “Care about you, want you, fucked if I know. You confuse the hell out of me, Kate Porter. You have since the moment you fell into my arms.” He drained his beer and without being asked, Lou placed another round on their table then quickly disappeared.

She straightened her back and shook herself out of the fantasy his words began to create. “We came here to talk about your book. How did wanting and caring become part of the conversation?”

His gaze never left her face as he ran one finger down her cheek. “Because that’s how you make me feel.”

Kate shivered at the intensity of his words, but as much as she might want the same things that he obviously did, they couldn’t casually hook up and continue to work together. Her job was too important to screw up just because she was hot for a man, even if that man was
the
Andrew O’Connor. “If you go ahead with the book you’ll definitely get to know me better.”

His eyes blazed and he raised his voice, although not quite to a shout. “Damn it, Kate, that’s not what I’m talking about and you know it. At this moment, I don’t give a flying fuck about the book.” He took a breath and rubbed the back of his neck. “Kate,” he said, his tone much gentler than a moment earlier. “I want you. And I don’t just want your body, although I’d be lying if I denied that. I also want to know you.”

“You do?”

“Yes.” He leaned back, getting comfortable. “For example, what’s the story behind your name?”

“My name?” The idea of Drew wanting her left her so shaken that all she could focus on was that question.

“Yeah. The name on your business card is Ekaterina Porter, but to me you’re Kate. Is your family Russian?”

“Far from it. My mom named me for Ekaterina Gordeeva. She skated pairs in the Olympics with her husband, Sergei Grinkov, and they won two gold medals. They were amazing skaters, gorgeous and so in love. Anyway, Sergei had a massive heart attack during a practice session and died. It was tragic and my mom, who’s a romantic through and through and a huge figure skating fan, decided that day that if she ever had a daughter she’d name her Ekaterina.” Kate was unaware of the sigh she released, but Drew heard it.

“And do you believe in romantic fairy tales too?”

“Well, that hasn’t been my experience, but why not? I don’t think it’s just a female thing either. Wouldn’t you want a happy ending to your story?”

Drew frowned as he considered the question. “I never really gave it much thought, but who wouldn’t want to be happy?” He reached for her hand. “It’s cool that your name has a story. Do you have a brother named Sergei?”

Kate laughed. “My brother’s name is Scott. My mom would never admit it, but I think he’s named for Scott Hamilton, the gold medal figure skater. She loves the athleticism and grace of skating and we can’t tear her away from the television when the winter Olympics are on.”

Drew leaned back and crossed his long legs at the ankle, a smug grin on his face. “Your mom sounds so normal. I like her already since I guess she’d approve of you being with me. I’m not a skater, but I do have a gold medal or two, you know.” His grin widened. “I’d even let her touch one.”

“Drew…” She swirled her finger through the moisture on the table, her head lowered as if not looking at him could make her forget how she wished she were impulsive enough to act on what they both seemed to be feeling.  “I’m not
with you
, not like you mean. We’re working together, or we might be.” She wondered if she could pass him to a colleague — a male obviously — but this was her project, one that could make her career. She clasped her hands in her lap so she wouldn’t be tempted to touch him.

“This was a mistake.” She waved one arm to indicate both him and the bar. “From now on we need to met either in my office or at your agent’s. I’ve worked very hard to get where I am and I’m not going to jeopardize that. Not even for you.” Her chair scraped as she pushed it back, picked up her purse, and started to stand. 

Drew was beside her in an instant. “Wait. I’m sorry, Kate.” He sighed and gestured toward her chair. “Damn it, I keep screwing up and then apologizing. Please.  Stay. Let me explain and if you want to leave after that, fine.”

“All right, but you sit over there.” She pointed to the opposite side of the table, then folded her arms across her chest.

A smile tickled his lips, but he did as she asked. “That day, the day we met, you didn’t recognize me so you treated me just like any other guy you stumbled into. We flirted a little and then you sent me on my way. Women don’t behave like that around me. I’m a trophy, someone they want to fuck so they can brag about how they slept with Drew O’Connor. ” He shrugged. “I’ve had a lot of meaningless sex.” All humor was gone from his voice. “I don’t have to chase women; they chase me. But you? You know who I am now, but you still treat me like I’m just some guy and maybe I’ve forgotten how to deal with that.”

“So let me see if I’ve got this straight. I didn’t throw myself at you, so now you have to figure out how to seduce me?”

He looked embarrassed. “It sounds pathetic when you say it that way, but I guess the answer’s yes. I also want to know you better, which is a first for me. I think I’ve wanted you since the minute I wrapped my arms around you in the church.” He slowly shook his head from side to side as if unsure of how to continue. “A man and a woman either have a connection or they don’t and we do. We both feel it, but if that makes you uncomfortable and complicates your life, I’ll take a cold shower and leave you alone.” He reached across the table and played with her fingers, his eyes searching hers for an answer. “Is that what you want?”

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