She's Got Dibs (9 page)

Tiffany snorted and disappeared into her office.

Tessa tossed the card into the garbage can. She would just ignore him. Forget that night ever happened. Sooner or later he’d
have
to get the hint. She set the flowers on the glass end table on the other end of the couch and went back to work. Whack job
was too kind…

****

Powering up her computer the next morning, Tessa froze when the front doorbell rang. She cautiously leaned away from her desk.
Oh no…Dammit!

The same delivery man stood in reception, a tall indigo vase overflowing with gorgeous violet-blue irises in his arms. The envelope momentarily tangled in the flowers and she tussled with the stems to free the card. It read
I’ll buy you a steak AND some chocolate cake
. The same phone number was listed.

An unexpected thrill heated her cheeks. She tapped the card against her open palm, a menacing scowl aimed at the delivery man. “This has got to stop.”

He shrugged. “If he comes in and pays for them, I have to deliver them.”

“Well, the next time he comes in, just tell him to stop.”

“I’ll tell him. But I don’t think it’ll matter.” He turned for the door. “See you in a few hours.” He brushed past Tiffany as she entered.

“My God, it smells like an English garden in here,” she chirped.

Tessa rolled her eyes and thumped the flowers onto the coffee table in front of the couch.

An hour later, the phone rang. She stared at it and let it ring.

A blonde tornado whirled into her office and slapped a sticky note on her desk. “That’s two!” She whirled out.

Tessa studied the number before pivoting to her computer. Her eyes slowly crept back to the number. She slumped. “Well, shit…”

Heaving a sigh, she reached across her desk for the manila folder Tiffany had given her and centered it on her blotter. After attaching the sticky note to the front, she flipped the cover.

The first article was from the Chicago
Sun Times
, a picture of Dibs kneeling before a small African child front page, center, their hands clasped before a mud hut. The caption read
David Brenner, CEO of the Brenner Foundation, visits a village in Botswana, South Africa
. The article reported Dibs had visited the village while overseeing the first phase of construction for a new school to be established under the foundation’s name. He traveled there several times throughout the year with food and medical supplies for the villagers, and planned to support a team of doctors to assist in their fight against HIV.

Next was a bio of his credentials, a graduate of Harvard Law, the eldest of three children born to Benjamin and Vanessa Brenner. Listed were his more recent accomplishments, including the various organizations benefitting from the Brenner Foundation’s generous support.

She paged to another article, this time from the
Chicago Tribune
, stating Dibs had received an award for his humanitarian efforts to feed Chicago’s homeless. A small photo sat in the lower right-hand corner, him standing between an older man and woman, dressed in a tuxedo, holding a gold plaque and smiling into the camera. The caption read
David Brenner, accompanied by his parents Benjamin and Vanessa Brenner, receives Chicago’s Philanthropist of the Year award at the Hilton Hotel
. She ran her fingertip down the side of his face before pushing the article aside.

“Oh…my…
God
.” She blew a low whistle.

The spread from
People
magazine, entitled
This Year’s Most Eligible Bachelors,
pictured Dibs standing in what she assumed was a ditch or deep hole because he was only visible from the knees up. His face was turned, captured in partial profile, while he pointed and squinted at something off camera. A pair of tan cargo pants sat low on his hips, his white button-down shirt, rolled up at the sleeves and hanging open. The ribbed muscles of his flat stomach flexed behind the sides of the shirt, his sculpted abs a delectable ladder leading down to the downy hair near his waistband. A maze of veins decorated the inside of his arms, ending near his wrists. A flutter of desire warmed her belly when she envisioned how only three days before, those very hands had explored every inch of her body. She shifted her focus back to his face, his cheeks and chin covered in the dark stubble of two or three days’ growth. The man was completely filthy and totally edible.
Da-a-ammn…

She closed the folder and lowered her head into her hands, searching for a way out of the horrible mess she had created. She finally stood, marched into Tiffany’s office and threw herself into one of the padded chairs.

“He’s not getting it.” She dropped her head to the back of the chair and stared at the ceiling.

Tiffany swiveled away from her computer, tucking her hair behind her ear. “He’s persistent, I’ll give him that.”

“He’s not supposed to be calling and sending flowers. He’s supposed to be relieved I didn’t want anything more to do with him.”

“Just like all the others?”

“Exactly.” Tessa lifted her head.

Lips compressed into an inflexible slash, Tiffany folded her hands over her desk. “Did you really think you could do this indefinitely and never have anyone try to contact you?”

“Of course I did.”

A spark of determination hardened her gaze. “Well…you were wrong.”

As if she needed someone to state the obvious. Tessa shoved out of the chair and stalked to the doorway.

“You should call him, Tessa.”

Ignoring Tiffany’s diplomatic advice, she retreated into her own, identical office.

Two hours later, the doorbell rang. The delivery man entered reception, a green vase abounding with fluffy pink peonies bumping his chest and arms, and when she glared at him, he grinned.

“I thought I told you to tell him to stop.”

He located the card inside the bouquet.

It read
I’m not going to stop
.

“Wow, those are beautiful.” Tiffany planted her face in the flowers, shoulders lifting with a deep intake of breath.

“You were right, Tiff. This guy is a total whack job.”

The delivery man laughed and retrieved another small envelope from his pocket.

Tessa narrowed her eyes and ripped it out of his hand.

I’m not a whack job,
it read.

Tiffany laughed over her shoulder.

“I’m not calling him,” Tessa said simply, tossing the envelope aside.

The delivery man chuckled and pulled out a third card.

She drew back a step. “You
can’t
be serious.”

“He said to give them to you in this order.”

She read the card while both the delivery man and Tiffany leaned in.

Then I’m not going to stop
.

The two of them locked gazes a moment before they burst out laughing.

Arching an eyebrow, Tessa crossed her arms and waited for their hilarity to subside. She jerked her chin at the delivery man. “You got any more cards left?”

“Just one.”

She read the message and her pulse leapt, matched by the uncontrollable jitter of her knees.

Go to the window.

She shoved the card at Tiffany and strode into her office, rounded her desk and yanked the cord to her blinds. Her jaw dropped. A large banner flapped against the office building across the street.

HAVE DINNER WITH ME!

Tiffany strolled into the office, waving a farewell to the delivery man, and then stumbled to a stop. “Holy cow. I wonder what he does for an encore.”

Hands clenching her hips, toe tapping, Tessa scanned and re-scanned the words. She spun to her desk and seized the phone. “I’m putting a stop to this. Right now.”

Tiffany quickly perched on the nearest chair, elbows balanced on the edge of Tessa’s desk, a happy grin over her chin resting on her fists.

The call rang through, Tessa’s heart hammering heavily in her chest. She sat in her desk chair, and then immediately popped to her feet.

Tiffany laughed.

“Rex!” Dibs answered.

“You need to stop,” she said.

“You don’t like flowers?”

“My office looks like a funeral parlor. You need to stop.”

Tiffany slapped a hand to her forehead and collapsed in the chair.

“Does that mean you’ll have dinner with me?” he asked.

“No, it means stop. And take the banner down.”

“It’s just dinner, Rex. I want to see you.”

“No.” She slammed the phone into the cradle and aimed a finger toward the dark scowl on the other side of her desk. “Don’t speak. Not one word.”

Tiffany stood, hands fisted, her pace fierce for the door. “Here’s a word for ya,” she mumbled. “
Chicken
.”

Two hours later, the doorbell rang.

Unbelievable!
The chair wheels leapt and smacked the floor when Tessa sprang to her feet and thundered into reception. An attractive couple waited near the desk, hands linked, happy faces glowing with excitement.

Oh. My.
God
. She’d gotten so distracted by all the nonsense with Dibs, she’d completely forgotten about her afternoon appointment.

Quickly rearranging her face into a mask of pleasant expectation, Tessa showed the couple to the small seating area in her office. Together they spent the afternoon flipping through her binders, discussing their ideas so she could better visualize their wedding. And even though she tried to ignore it, she couldn’t help but notice. The sparks between them nearly lit up the room whenever their eyes met.

“Unless you have any more questions, I’ll set up a calendar, and then we can meet again in about a month.” She stood from the couch, escorting them into reception. “I’ll be in touch in a week or two to set up our next appointment.”

The phone rang and Tessa stepped aside to peer through Tiffany’s open doorway. The receiver was pressed to her ear. Oh, God. He wouldn’t…would he? She swung back to the young couple just as they were exiting, but not before the young man placed a tender kiss on his fiancée’s lips.

An unexpected shower of sadness rained down all over Tessa’s shoulders. She turned away and bee-lined straight for Tiffany’s office. “Who was on the phone?”

“New York.” She smiled grandly. “They’ve narrowed the playing field down to three, and we are one of the three.”

That was
great
news. Tessa clapped her hands together quietly. Now she could focus her energies where they’d always served her best—on her career.

“They requested another meeting at one o’clock tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” Talk about short notice. This was going to play havoc with her schedule. “Well, I guess I’d better go check the flights.”

“Do you want me to go this time?” Tiffany asked.

“Nah.” Actually, on second thought leaving Chicago seemed like the perfect idea. She could gain some distance…clear her head. Just as long as she didn’t get delayed again.

A wisp of something…despair, perhaps…floated down like a feather and wafted to a stop in the middle of her chest. She frowned. Sales pitches were her forte. Why would traveling back to New York suddenly make her feel like she wanted to—

“How was the lovely couple?” Tiffany tipped her head toward reception.

Tessa rubbed at a sore spot between her breasts. “Nice, actually. Very much in love.”

She squinted. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

She sighed, shaking her head. “You told him to stop, Tessa.”

“I know I did. I’m glad I did.”

Frowning, Tessa returned to her office and booked a round-trip flight to New York. Because of the last minute notice, the only seat available was in first class. The cost was three times the regular price, but if they landed this client, the money would be well worth the investment. The rest of the afternoon was spent reviewing her presentation materials in preparation for the meeting.

By the end of the day, exhaustion weighed heavy on her shoulders, and strangely enough, that little note of sadness remained embedded in her heart. Yes, she had told Dibs to stop, and he had done as she asked. Yet, if truth be told, she supposed a small part of her wished he had ignored her request. None of the others had pursued her before. In fact, she had never heard from any of them.

She shook her head, clearing those crazy thoughts from her mind. Tomorrow she would be glad she declined Dibs’s advances, and the day after that she wouldn’t even remember he existed. All she needed was a good night’s rest and to concentrate on the future and success of her business.

She gathered her briefcase and purse, but before she reached reception she returned to the window and pushed one of the slats aside.

The banner was gone.

Chapter Five

“Hey, it’s me.”

“Where are you?” Tiffany asked.

“I just got on the plane.” Tessa clicked her seatbelt together and tightened the slack. “Sorry I didn’t call sooner, but I raced straight to the airport. I’ve got ten minutes before we take off.”

In the aisle beside her first-class window seat, businessmen and women pressed cell phones to their ears with one hand, juggling briefcases in the other. Parents towed whining children by the wrists as they inched down the rows. Passengers shuffled tickets and jostled carry-ons, their conversations punctuated by the slam and click of overhead compartments while everyone struggled to locate their seats.

“How’d the meeting go?” Tiffany asked.

“I think we nailed it.” Tessa slid her briefcase under the seat in front of her, smiling into the phone.

“No way.”

“What do you mean ‘no way’? Have you no faith in my abilities?”

“No, no, I didn’t mean that.” Tiffany’s lilting laugh echoed through the line. “We’ve just been waiting for a chance like this for so long, I didn’t think we’d ever get it.”