The Geek Gets The Girl (9 page)

She had enjoyed the us.

Even now, knowing it had been a lie.

If she could believe Zac, the us part hadn’t been a lie. And he had only been using the cover she’d mistakenly given him that morning when she’d assessed him as the office geek. But seriously, what CEO wears a pocket protector?

A glance over Zac’s impressive Italian suit revealed a peek of white vinyl beneath the jacket. He did. Guess you could promote the guy to head of the company, but you couldn’t erase all the geek from the CEO.

“Rachel?”

But she couldn’t concede. Such floundering after she’d announced her resignation was unacceptable. And he had accepted her resignation. Just like that. Not even a lackluster argument over him wanting her to stay.

“I’m sorry.” She picked up a random manila folder from the glass desktop and walked around Zac to the door. “I have work to do. If you could find a way to stay out of my office, I’d appreciate it. As I’ve said, I’ll finish what I started before officially leaving. I’ll see you tomorrow morning at the client meeting.”

“Rachel.”

She turned the doorknob. Her heart pounded. Her feet wanted to turn her body around. Her arms wanted to pull him to her. Her soul screamed for more of what they’d given one another.

“Thanks,” he said to her back. “For your honesty. And for an amazing few days. I wish it could have been different, but I’m unsure how to make things right for you.”

Without a word, she left the man standing in her office. Rachel spied a cubicle gopher’s head bob down, and she beelined for the ladies’ room. She’d never cried at work before.

There was a first time for everything.

Chapter 10

Today was the morning of Rachel’s last day at Haute Heels. She had given Zac—Monsieur Cosgrove—her resignation. She hadn’t seen him since the angry tossed roses scene in her office. And well he should avoid her. The asshole had lied to her.

Very well. He’d perpetuated a mistruth she’d believed about him. Same thing.

Right?

She picked up a velvety rose petal. The bouquet still sat on the couch and the flowers hadn’t faded nor had the petals wilted overnight without water. It was as if they were desperately holding on, a symbol of the hope for the relationship between her and Zac.

“Relationship. Yeah, right,” she muttered. “It was sex. We both took advantage of the other. I fueled my creativity with the sex. He…”

He’d said the sex had nothing to do with the business. That he wanted them to continue to be an us. What was that about? How could that even work? He lived in New York. And even after she walked away from her job today, Rachel would remain in Paris.

“Hopefully, it won’t be too difficult to find another job.”

She had to admit, she was beginning to feel comfortable in the management chair. And as Zac had said, had she the proper funds to hire more employees and do the job right, she may have just shone in the position. But it was too late for that dream now.

“You ready?”

Curling her fingers over the rose petal, she nodded at Amelie’s entreaty. 

“The meeting is in five minutes,” Amelie said. “I’ve just seated the marketing team for Les Grands Chaussures, and we’re waiting on Monsieur Cosgrove.”

Rachel’s heart double-stepped. Oh, Zac. It had been she who labeled him the IT guy, setting this whole lie in motion.

No. She wasn’t going to blame herself for this.

“I’ll head down there right now,” Rachel said. “You’re sitting in, Amelie.”

“To take notes?”

“No, silly.” Rachel picked up the sketches from her desk. Amelie’s sketches that she had revised and worked up on the whiteboard that she’d set up in the conference room an hour earlier. “I told you I wanted to incorporate some of your ideas, and I did. This is as much your project as it is mine.”

The woman beamed.

“Let’s do this,” Rachel said.

*

Zac thought Rachel Parker had felt something for him. A purely physical and sexual attraction, sure. The same need for no-strings sex he’d felt. But beyond the surface stuff, he’d thought they had begun to connect. It had been but a few days, and—yes, he knew—romance took longer than that.

But did it really? What about all that love at first sight stuff? Couldn’t a man have sex with a woman and then allow his heart to catch up to the excitement and genuinely want to continue the relationship?

Or was he making up a fiction that worked for his need to fill the emptiness in his life?

It wasn’t empty. He had a great job, an amazing cadre of friends, and a bank account that would keep him and his future family comfortable for many generations to follow. Zachary Cosgrove had everything.

Except the one woman who appealed to his sense of desire, uniqueness, and wanting to simply enjoy life with someone who made him feel alive. And who didn’t ask anything of him save to be in the moment when he was with her.

Refreshing. And whether or not their relationship could survive a long-distance stint, he wanted the chance to give it a go.

But he couldn’t blurt that out right now. So he shoved a hand into his pocket and palmed the item he’d picked up from the floor of Rachel’s office. She’d gotten under his skin, and he didn’t want to rub her away.

Rachel stood before the whiteboard—a red, tailored dress hugging her body and flaring flirtatiously at her knees. She wore the black ribbon shoes she had worn the other night when they’d fucked on the couch. She flipped through the campaign design sheets on the Powerpoint display, knocking the socks off both the clients and him. Her ad campaign was seriously sexy and right on point to capture the consumer’s attention.

It was also very familiar.

The storyboard featured a sexy couple making out on a couch in a shoe store dressing room, the man stroking his hand along the woman’s leg. She wore the black satin tieups. And as Rachel narrated the man’s thoughts—which echoed the Elvis song Zac had sung to her—the clients’ heads bobbed. They loved it. 

And when she revealed the twist, that the woman was thinking the same thing—I want you, I need you, I love you—only about the shoes, the clients burst out in applause.

The head of Les Grands Chaussures’ marketing team shook Rachel’s hand and confirmed their interest in going ahead with the campaign. She paused when the client asked how soon the preliminaries could be delivered, and looked to Zac. He had been introduced as Zachary Cosgrove, the CEO of Haute Heels. Here on a routine visit, and just sitting in on the conference.

Zac cleared my throat. “Timeline? I’m not sure. The Paris office just made an offer for a new office manager but we’re not sure she’ll accept.”

Rachel flashed him the evil eye. Hey, he had one last chance to win her for his team. And that was the Haute Heels team, not the Zac Needs a Girlfriend team. He was pulling out the big guns.

The marketing director expressed concern. 

“We’ll make it happen,” Rachel said. “I’ll head the campaign myself.  I’m, uh…not going anywhere as long as this project needs attention.”

Handshakes were exchanged. Everyone was happy. Even Zac could concede happiness in the wake of his failed personal life. Amelie led the clients out, and Rachel stayed behind to gather the abandoned files and pens.

Zac stood and paced to the other side of the conference table, watching her. He sensed her annoyance at him standing there, eyeballing her. He could feel her need to give him the evil eye. Points to her for repressing that need. But he didn’t want to leave her orange-scented atmosphere. Because to leave would surely mean the end.

When the folders had been stacked, Rachel strolled around the table to where he stood. He held the final file folder. Without saying a word, she held out her hand. So Zac dug into his suit pocket and placed something small on her palm.

Rachel gaped at the white button. It had fallen off her shirt the evening they’d had sex in her office, and Zac had picked it up off the floor before leaving. He’d immediately recalled her button jar, and how she always wondered about those who had lost the tiny treasures.

“I know you like to collect buttons and wonder about the owner. Let me tell you about this one,” he said. “I know its owner is young, female, and very smart. She’s got confidence in spades, and isn’t afraid to take charge even in the most dire circumstances. She takes what she wants without being aggressive, and has no regrets. I believe that’s called being assertive. And she’s pretty damn gorgeous, too.”

“I didn’t even realize it was missing.” She curled her fingers over the button. “From the other night?”

“Yes. I’m glad you’ve decided to stay on,” he said.

“Only until the ad is complete. I started this campaign; I’ll see it through. And if I can do something about improving the office’s output in that interim, I’ll certainly do it. I’ve decided that I can’t let personal feelings distract from professional goals. I’ll prove to you that our branch deserves a second chance.”

“You’ve already done that. You’ll notice your HR budget has been increased. You can start hiring your dream design team as soon as you wish. I’d suggest promoting your secretary to Design.”

“Will do. Amelie has some great ideas. I couldn’t have managed this campaign without her sketches.”

“I know you’re intent on leaving Haute Heels, but I’d like to see you officially accept the position of office manager. Rachel, this office needs you. I know it can thrive with you at the helm.”

“Can I have the weekend to think it over?”

“Of course.”

“Do you fly out tonight?”

“Sunday. I gave myself an extra day to do the tourist thing. Can you believe I’ve never been to the Eiffel Tower?”

“You should go tonight. It’s gorgeous after the sun sets. They light it up at the top of every hour for ten minutes.”

“It would be more interesting if I had a date to accompany me.”

“Zac.”

He took her hand, and remarkably, she didn’t pull from his grip. So he leaned back and closed the meeting room door. There were no windows out to the office. And no security cameras.

Turning around, Zac pulled Rachel into his arms and kissed her. Deeply. Lingering. Pulling her hips against his to secure her, to hold her. To keep from doing something crazy like rushing away from that which scared him the most—committing to a crazy long-distance relationship. And she didn’t pull away, which flooded him with hope.

“Just give me tonight and the Eiffel Tower?” he asked. “I don’t want to walk away from you, Rachel.”

“You can kiss me all you like. I still don’t sleep with my boss.”

“Technically…” He lifted a finger between them. “…I’m not your boss. I’m the owner of the company. You answer to Joel Stinson, the Operations Director.”

Her smile widened. “I never thought of it that way.”

“Well, you should. And if you ever think about sleeping with that guy—”

“I hear he’s an old man. And he’s married.”

“Good to know you have morals.”

“Coming from the man who lied to me about who he was.”

Another kiss silenced her nicely. He’d wronged her. Professionally. And he should have never mixed business with pleasure, despite both of them insisting they were not. They had. No denying it.

On the other hand, if he had not done just that, he may have never lost his heart to this incredible woman.

“We started out wrong, and because I liked it so much, I perpetuated the lie. I’m sorry, Rachel.”

She stroked his cheek and then ruffled her fingers through his hair. “I know you are. It was as much my fault for allowing it to happen.”

“You harbor no blame in this. Can we give it one more day?”

“And what happens after that?”

“Maybe we can figure something out. Maybe not. But another day is all I ask.”

“I’ll give you a night and a day. Dinner at the Eiffel Tower tonight.  And tomorrow? We’ll discuss that in the morning.”

“I’ll pick you up at seven?”

“I’ll be waiting.”

Zac grabbed the office door pull and opened it, but turned back. “Uh, there’s one more thing that I know about the owner of that button.”

“That she’s abandoned all rational thinking?”

“Not at all. It’s that she’s stolen my heart.”

Rachel’s mouth fell open. Zac winked at her, then strolled off down the hallway.

Epilogue

One month later…

Palm pressed to the glass, Rachel couldn’t even worry that she stood before the living room window, naked, her head tilted back because Zac’s fingers clutched at her hair while he thrust his cock deep inside her. So the neighbors would get a show. She was pretty certain that, standing in the dark room, and with the streetlights hidden around the corner, no one would see too much. Shadowplay, perhaps?

Let them ogle.

Zac had left Paris a month earlier, handing her the key to his mother’s former apartment and telling her she could visit it, fix it up, do whatever she liked to it. He hadn’t suggested she move into it, which she appreciated. She did not like to think of herself as a kept woman.