Love, Laughter, and Happily Ever Afters Collection (100 page)

He stands up straighter and looks me square in the eye. “Well, I know how much you love chocolate.”

“And how did your brain conjure up that little deduction?”

“You told me the first day I met you. Remember, when you were racked with indecision and clumsily spilled coffee all over my new cash register.” He’s trying to hide his smile.

The red creeps from my ears to my cheeks. “Thank you for the reminder of my most embarrassing moment. Oh wait, I forgot about the clogged toilet. That trumps it.”

“Well, if that’s your most embarrassing moment, I’d say you’re doing pretty well.”

My eyebrows perk up. “Why, what’s your most embarrassing moment?”

“I’m not sure I can trust you with that information.”

A giant puff of air leaves my mouth. “Why not? I’m extremely trustworthy.”

He taps his long index finger against his full lips; a detail I just noticed. “Hmmm...I don’t know, actually. This is pretty serious stuff. If anyone ever found out…”

“Okay, you’re killing me here, Brad...just spill it.” I wave him into the chair across from me. “I won’t tell anyone. Cross my heart.”

He shrugs his shoulders and sits down before continuing. “Okay…so I was about twelve at the time and waiting for my brother, Matt, to get home from school to go play basketball. I was pretty bored so I turned on the radio and the sound of Bob Seger’s “Old Time Rock n Roll” filled the living room speakers. Something in me came alive, and I couldn’t resist the temptation to strip down to my underwear and do my best Tom Cruise impression. Just when I started getting into it with the pretzel rod that came to life as my microphone, the door burst open and in walked my brother with his girlfriend, two of his friends, and a girl from school that I had a crush on at the time. Needless to say, hysterical laughter ensued and I ran up to my room, never to be heard from again.”

Laughter bubbles up to the surface, but I try and force it down.

“You can laugh. It’s okay. Even though it was the most humiliating experience in my life, there’s no disputing the humor in it.”

My face crinkles in laughter. “Okay, Brad, you got me. That totally beats the toilet incident. By a long shot.”

His eyes shine and that dimple pops right out. “Yup, it’s hard to top that one.” He laughs with me for a moment. He sounds even more relaxed and carefree when he does. “My brother reminds me of it. Often.”

“What happened with that girl you liked?”

“Absolutely nothing. It was a wash after that. Every time she saw me she broke into fits of laughter, and all her friends starting calling me Tommy.”

My lips turn down in a pout. “Oh, that’s awful. Well, if it’s any consolation, I would’ve thought you were cute. Definitely strange, but cute.”

His face breaks out into a huge smile. Holy cow, he’s got a great one. Right out of a freaking Colgate commercial.

CHAPTER FIVE

WEDNESDAYS ARE ALWAYS ridiculously crazy. Happy Hump Day to me! Well, now that I think about it, it’s hump day for everyone else…except me. I definitely need to work on that. In addition to my regular assistant responsibilities, Robby has me picking up design plans and going out on a couple of client visits with him. This is one of the great things about my job. It gives me a change of pace from sitting in my creaky desk chair all day staring at the lovely four walls of my cubicle.

I manage to make it to my desk without being too overwhelmed by yellow sticky notes, and I only have ten voicemail messages. It’s a banner day. Settling in, I manage to take one blissful sip of my Salted Caramel Mocha before Robby calls to me.

“Gabby, dahling. Come in here a minute.”

I hesitantly get up from my not-so-comfortable chair and make my way over to his office. The sun is shining through the windows casting a warm glow on his face that almost matches his orange silk shirt. A pencil sits atop his ear and he has his feet up on his desk per usual, looking very relaxed.

“Good morning, Robby.”

“Good morning, sweetie. So I hope all the sticky notes didn’t scare you.” He waves his hands in the air. “But you know me, whenever a thought pops into my head, I have to write it down.”

I chuckle softly. “No problem. I’m good.”

“Great! So we have a couple of clients to see today, and I believe there’s a new one on the schedule as well. Busy, Busy, Busy. Design, Design, Design.” He claps his hands. “Let’s get on with it.”

I like Robby. He never makes me feel like a peon and always makes me laugh. My desk is piled with paperwork, and prioritizing is number one on my list today. We have about thirty minutes before our first meeting and I’m in the organizing zone. The stack of papers filled with design sketches Robby drew are piling up and filing them is essential. My phone rings, startling me, and I quickly answer it, almost dropping the receiver to the floor. “Gabrielle Willis.”

On the other end I hear, “Hello, Gabrielle Willis, this is Dane Rhodes.” Then silence.

I can’t seem to talk, but my body is responding to his silky voice. After a pause, I offer, “Hello.”

“I just spoke with Robby, and apparently you’re supposed to pick up some design plans at my apartment today. I just wanted to find out what time you’d be here.”

I am? I’m glad someone decided to tell me that. “I’ll see you at two o’ clock.” Click. I hang up. I didn’t even give him a chance to say anything else. At this point, my name can be found right next to the word idiot in the dictionary.

I can’t pay attention to anything Robby or the clients are saying, as I’m anxiously glancing at the clock non-stop. It’s like watching molasses drip from a spoon. It’s only noon. The lunch meeting is dragging and I can’t even think about food. It’s also not very appealing to listen to people talk as they’re chewing. Two more hours to go. I’m nervous and my mind is doing crazy Dane somersaults. All kinds of thoughts are going through my head. Dane obviously called and asked for me specifically. He must’ve been thinking about me, right? Must’ve wanted to see me again, or perhaps he just heard I’m a skilled assistant? I giggle. Perhaps he’s hoping I’m skilled in other ways, too.

Robby glares at me. I guess my giggle was a little too loud. “Gabby, do you have anything you’d like to add?”

My smile suddenly disappears and I put on my serious meeting face. “No.”

Finally it’s 1:30. I gather my scattered wits and make my way to the ladies’ room for one last check. I’ve been in here four times in the past hour; I’m sure nothing has changed. I smooth my dress, brush my hair and tuck one side behind my ear, and reapply blush and a bit of lip gloss. That’s it. This is as good as it gets.

As I make my way to Dane’s Upper East Side apartment, my heart is drumming against my chest. I haven’t been this nervous about anything in a long time. I’m not sure what’s happening to me, but whatever it is, I don’t want it to stop. I wonder what he wants from me. I know what I want from him. Sex, with a capital S.

Sweat is clinging to my palms, my pulse visibly racing through my heated skin. I’m having a hard time controlling my breathing as the elevator ascends to the twenty-seventh floor. So much for the time I spent in yoga class. I wring my hands repeatedly and slowly count to ten. When I finally get to ten, the elevator pings. Steadying my wobbly legs and wiping away the moisture trickling down my forehead, I head down the hall to apartment 27-F, attempting one last deep, calming breath before I ring the doorbell.

The door opens almost instantly and I freeze at the sight of Dane. I’ve obviously never walked through a door before, because when he ushers me in, the feet that I so often rely on have no idea what to do. I look down at my awkwardness telepathically expecting a response, and wait. Still nothing, so I look up. My eyes sweep the length of his body. The natural inclination would be to stare into his green emeralds, but it’s impossible not to move lower; a lot lower. I can almost trace a line through the bunched cream fabric of his pants. Is it even real? It should be illegal to walk around with that thing. Dane’s lips part, forming a perfect O, for orgasm, I believe. The one I’m about to have all over his brand new hardwood floors.

His lips curve up in a mouthwatering smile. “See anything you like?”

My blue eyes manage to crawl back up to his. “Nah, not really.”

His lips twitch, while the green in his eyes sparkles. “So, shall we sit?”

That’s not exactly what I had in mind. Geez, when did I turn into a sex fiend? After a second or two, I find my voice. “Sure, let’s.” I try to calm my nerves and the excitement I feel building in my body with a distraction. The view seems to work. It’s actually pretty magnificent. Every facet, every curve, every color, every inch of blue sky is visible from his floor-to-ceiling windows. Wow. My view of the back alley pales in comparison. “What a stunning view.”

I see Dane staring at me from the corner of my eye. “I was thinking the exact same thing.”

Shit, he’s flirting with me again. My cheeks warm and I quickly make an attempt to divert the conversation. “So, when did you buy this place?”

He stalks closer to me. “I just closed last month. I told Robby I want to move forward quickly, so I can move in within the next three months.”

“That’s a pretty aggressive timeline.”

“Well, I’m a pretty aggressive guy.” Gulp. “Let me get the design plans.” He strides out of the room, a walking billboard for sex. The temperature in here is rising quickly.

I immediately become aware that there are only two pieces of furniture in the apartment, a sofa and a coffee table. Dane motions for me to have a seat beside him on the couch. Taking out my notepad, I lay it on the table.

“Come, have a seat next to me.”

Cautiously, I make my way over and sit down, but not too close. Dane smirks. He’s obviously enjoying my uneasiness.

“So, what did you have in mind?” Could I be any more suggestive?

I see a hint of wickedness cross his face. “Well, Gabrielle, that appears to be a very loaded question.”

As if I couldn’t embarrass myself any more with this guy. I attempt to clear my throat and speak. “So, furniture and color, let’s start there.”

“I’m thinking burgundy and creams. In terms of furniture, I’m clueless, so that’s where I’ll look to Robby for his expertise.”

“Well, the space is vast, so it can accommodate larger pieces of furniture. Because of the expansive open floor plan, you’ll need to decide how you want to break up the space – kitchen, living room, dining room, etc.”

“You certainly seem to know a lot about design,” he says, “and I’m excited about seeing what Robby can do with this place.”

Dane continues to talk, but I’m not even listening. Some assistant I am. I’m busy admiring the view. Contoured lips, sculptured shoulders...Fran’s right, I do need to get laid. And he may be just the man for the job.

“So what do you think, Gabrielle? Or is it okay if I call you Gabby?”

“Huh, yes, what was that?”

A devilish grin passes over Dane’s face. I’ve been caught red handed. I play it cool. “Yes, you can call me Gabby. And I think I’ve got enough information for Robby. He and I will put together some color swatches and when we meet again you can decide what you like best.”

Gathering up my notepad, I make my way to the door. Dane saunters forward three steps, while I clumsily take three steps back until I feel a cold surface seeping through the thin cotton of my blouse. His arms outstretch to the wall behind me, surrounding me with muscle and virility, and I’m trapped. I feel like a caged animal; one that’s in heat. My face is burning from his proximity. His warm breath is inches from my mouth.

“When can I see you again, Gabby?”

Those lips are so close now, and they look so incredibly soft and delicious that I can practically feel them on mine. He runs his tongue along the contour of his lips and words escape me, and I press my legs together in hopes that I don’t come all over his floor.

My mouth goes dry as I attempt to swallow the giant lump that’s taken up residence in my throat. “When…would you like to? See me that is?”

His eyes never leave my lips. “I’d like to…see you on Friday. How about dinner?”

“Sure. We can do dinner.” Then, maybe we can do something else.

I turn to leave. Places to go, messages to answer.

“So, do you have time to grab a coffee before you go back to your office? Perhaps at that shop you frequent?”

Now? How the hell does he know I frequent there? Has he been stalking me? “How do you know I frequent there?”

“I don’t know, I just assumed.” Yeah, well don’t.

During our walk to the coffee shop, Dane tells me about his job as an associate creative director at an advertising agency. “It’s a fascinating job, really. I love the creative freedom it gives me, and the ability to develop a design based on an overall marketing strategy is really exciting.”

“It does sound interesting.” Creative minds need creative jobs. That’s the one thing my mom used to say that made any sense to me.

Dane’s job sounds sexy and seems to fit his persona perfectly. He’d actually have a lot to talk about with Fran. I’m trying to figure out how old he is. From what he’s told me, coupled with his confident swagger, I’m thinking he has to be about six years older than me, so maybe around thirty-one. Perhaps I can learn something from him. The thought makes my insides churn.

He puts his hand at the small of my back and ushers me into The Brew House. I flinch, but don’t think he notices. His touch does strange things to me. I feel needy and achy in all the right places, and I like it. Brad sees me and I’m on the receiving end of that killer smile. Wow.

“Hi, Gabby.”

“Hey, Brad. Brad, this is Dane. Dane, this is my friend, Brad.”

Brad looks Dane over, eyeing his expensive suit and manicured nails. “What’s up?”

“Pleasure to meet you, Brad.”

I order drinks for both Dane and myself. Standing there, playing with the fabric of my blouse, I watch Brad make our lattes and notice a tattoo peeking out from his short-sleeved shirt, surrounding his bicep. I squint to make out what it is, but we’re too far away. I grab our drinks and make our way over to a corner table.