Tonic (2 page)

Laney full-on smiled that time and pulled out some more papers. “Perfect. I’ll need to have all of your employees sign these updated contracts, as well as you and Shep. This is the final version with all of the requests that your lawyer made, including the negotiated payment and reimbursement for any damages and modifications to the shop. I convinced my bosses to do the history and cultural segments you asked for, too, which you’ll find in the episode packets. They love the angle of learning about the subculture — it’s something we haven’t seen before. They were also on board with hiring a new composer, as so not to have the—” she glanced at one of the papers in her hand, “
Cheesy TLC bullshit
soundtrack, as you called it.”

I smiled and sat up in my seat. I had a list of demands in order for me to participate in the farce, and Laney had pulled through. Part of me had hoped they wouldn’t so I could refuse, but at least if I had to do the damned show, it would be on my own terms.

She smiled back and shuffled through more papers. “We also have copies of all of the permits in here for your files, in case your landlord or the city needs to see them, but you can always direct any inquiries like that to us.”

I nodded.

“We appreciate you meeting with us, Joel. Your brother told us that you weren’t overly enthusiastic about the show, but I’m glad you came around. I hope you’ll be pleasantly surprised with how we do things. It’s not all fake drama and cat fights — we leave that to
Survivor
and
The Bachelor
. And if there’s ever an issue, you can always come to Annika or me. We’re here to ensure that things run smoothly — we’re problem solvers. So if anything crops up that you’re unhappy about, let us try to help fix it. Okay?”

I nodded again, uncomfortable with her hitting me in a soft spot, calling me on my fears so openly.

“Great. I just told our lead engineer that I’d take a couple of shots of the office and back room for him, some things he didn’t get when he was here last week. Could one of you show me the way?”

Shep stood up as I opened my mouth to answer.
 

“Yeah, come on. It’s just back this way,” he said.

Laney stood and smiled at me like she knew what I was thinking, which was nearly full-blown giddiness at the prospect of being alone with Annika. I wanted to see her squirm. I’d see her squirm if it killed me.

Shep turned his back to the women and winked at me as he passed.

Annika recrossed her legs as they walked away — her long legs, the same creamy white as the rest of her — and brushed the backs of her fingers against her skirt with a flick before leaning forward to pick up the papers, stacking them with a click against the table.
 

She still wouldn’t look at me.

“So, we’ll be working closely, it would seem,” I said.
 

“It would seem.” The words were tight.

A smile played at my lips. “Does something about me offend you, Ms. Belousov?”

She shifted, turning her nose up, her eyes toward the window — my eyes followed the line of her jaw, which was somehow both hard and soft. “Not at all.”

I chuckled. “You’re a terrible liar. Has anyone ever told you that?”

Her eyes finally snapped to mine, and I tried to melt her panties off with my mind. A flush rose in her cheeks. “What is it with you?” she asked, surprising me with her directness.

I shrugged. “Not quite sure what you mean.”

“Didn’t anyone ever tell you it’s not polite to stare?”

“Sure, but when I see a stone-cold fox such as yourself, I find it hard not to look.”

She laughed, but the sound held no humor, and her eyes were hard and mocking on mine. “Yeah, I get it. I’m just the pretty face, right? Why wouldn’t I want to be sexualized by strangers? Did you have any cat-calls on hand for me? Maybe it’s one I haven’t heard before.”

One eyebrow climbed. “Touché.”

She shook her head, her eyes hard on mine. “You’re basically a walking cliché. Funny that you don’t see women treating men like meat.”

I chuffed. “Wait until you’ve spent a few days in the shop, sweetheart.”

Her anger flared, her flush deepening.“Don’t call me sweetheart, asshole.”

“Don’t call me asshole, princess.”

She glared. I smiled.

I put my hands up in surrender, finding her presumptions amusing, imagining the look on her face when she realized exactly how wrong she was. “Listen, I’m sorry, but in fairness, I’m not the one playing ice queen.”

“No. You’re playing the rogue, aren’t you?”

I bobbled my head. “I don’t really
play
the rogue. It’s just my natural state. Drove my mother nuts.”

“I’d have to agree with her.”

“So you’re admitting I drive you nuts? This has to be a new record for me. What’s it been, fifteen minutes?”

She glanced at her watch. “Twelve.” The word was flat and humorless, but I laughed nonetheless.

“I like you,” I said. “Can’t figure out exactly why.”

A ghost of a smile, suppressed and gone in a millisecond. “That makes one of us.”

“Well, I, for one, am looking forward to working with you, Annika.”

“Ms. Belousov is preferred, thanks.”

The words were brusque, and I wondered if she was already trying to figure out how to get out of the job. In that exact moment, I hoped she couldn’t. I hoped she’d be stuck to me like static cling.
 

I leaned forward, finding myself close to her, close enough to smell her perfume, a hint of something floral and familiar, but I couldn’t place it. What I
could
have done was gotten drunk off it.

“Well,
Ms. Belousov,
maybe I can change your mind.”

She turned her cool eyes on me, and I found them burning like I’d hoped, though it was veiled. I found their heat all the same. “I very seriously doubt that, Mr. Anderson.”

I smiled. “Oh, I dunno. I can be
very
persuasive, when I put my mind to it.”

Her lips pinched and eyes narrowed by a tiny degree just as Laney and Shep walked back into the room. I sat back in my chair, absolutely pleased with myself.

“Great,” Laney said as she approached, not moving to sit back down. “I think we’ve got what we need. Annika will be in touch regarding the schedule. If you could get these contracts back to me in the next couple of days, it would really speed things along.”

Shep smiled. “We’ll get you everything tomorrow.”

“Perfect, then we can get our crew here to start the work Monday. It should only take a couple of days.”

“That’s all?” I asked, trying not to watch Annika as she stood and stepped away, taking the route that would keep her as far away from me as possible.

Laney nodded. “They’ve got it down to a science.”

I stood and extended a hand. “Then I’ll be seeing you sooner than later.”

“Yes, you will,” she said as she took it. “Thanks again for meeting with us, and for going for the show. It’s going to do amazing things for your store, your brand.”

I gave my brother a look. “So I hear.”

“Good to see you, Laney,” Shep said as he shook her hand. “Ms. Belousov.” He shook her hand too.

Something ignited in my chest as I reached out to shake Annika’s hand, knowing she couldn’t refuse with Laney watching on. “Nice to meet you, Ms. Belousov.”

The flush was back, just a rosy tinge to her high cheeks as she slipped her white fingers into my hand. They were soft and warm — no, they were hot — her palm pressing against mine as her fingers closed. It was only a second that we touched, but every single thing about the way she felt impressed into my mind.

I squeezed once, firm but gentle, before she pulled away, but my fingers trailed down hers like they didn’t want to let her go.
 

She said nothing, just gave a curt nod and turned in a whoosh that left the smell of flowers in the draft, and I watched her walk out the door, narrow hips swaying in time to the click of her heels.

I slipped my hands into my pockets and watched the door for a second, my mind spinning and whirring. I wanted to figure her out. In fact, I wanted that more than I’d wanted anything in a long, long time.

After a moment of silence, Shep burst out laughing.

I glanced over at him, but he just kept laughing, the apples of his cheeks pink, his laugh big and booming.

“What?” I asked.

“Jesus Christ, Joel. It’s been ages since I’ve seen you fuck a girl up with your eyes.”

I shrugged.
 

He kept laughing. “Just do me a favor.”

“If it involves me not sleeping with her, I’m out.”

“Trust me, I know better than to try to stop you once you’ve set your mind to something.” His smile slipped, his eyes narrowed with worry but still full of hope. “Just don’t ruin this for us, okay?”

I clapped him on the shoulder and pulled him into my side. “Don’t worry, little brother. I’ll keep it under control.” And at the time, I actually believed the words.

Annika

I PULLED IN A BREATH through my nose so hard, my nostrils threatened to stick closed.

That guy.

That hairy fucking guy.

That hairy fucking guy with those stupid fucking eyes that looked at me like he could see me naked.

I’d been given the label of
frigid bitch
more than a few times, a label that would make most women cringe. But not me — I embraced it. It was a mask, armor cultivated over years of practice, years of working in reality television. It protected the rest of me, the real me, from the sharp edges of my job. It made the men who I worked with in the industry take me seriously. It kept the would-be players well away from me. One pointed look would usually have them skittering away with their tail between their legs.

But not That Hairy Fucking Guy. I couldn’t even bring myself to think his name, as if thinking his name would give him some kind of power over me. So Hairy Fucking Guy would have to do. Or maybe just Hairy.
 

I tried not to think about how he stared at me, like he would do things that would make my toes curl up and my knees buckle. Like he would fuck me up in a way that would have me begging for more. He didn’t shy away from my glare — which would level most men — instead, he met it with heat that burned through me like molten lava. Or indigestion.

I also tried not to think about how it felt to shake his hand. I’d shaken a million hands, but that? After he’d looked at me like he did? All hairy and beastly and feral and lusty? I swear, electricity shot up my arm, down my ribcage, and straight between my legs.

This fact made me very, very angry.
 

Our car was still waiting at the curb, and I climbed in after Laney. It wasn’t until the door thumped shut, muting the sounds of the city for the soft hum of air conditioning, that she looked me dead in the face and started laughing.

I felt my face turn to stone, the pinch of my lips at the corners. “It’s not funny, Laney.”

“The unflappable Annika, completely flapped.”

“I am not flapped. In fact, I’m the opposite of flapped.”

“That’s what I’m saying. Usually you smile and schmooze, but you shut down like New York during a blizzard.”

I tightened my lips to stop myself from sulking and changed the subject. “He’s awful.”

“No, he isn’t,” she said as the driver took off.
 

“He is too. He’s crass and uncouth and … hulking. He’s medieval. Put a mace in his hand and point him to the Saxons.”

“I think he would have been a Saxon. And anyway, he was wearing a suit, for God’s sake.” She watched me, and I could feel her smiling. My eyes were out the front window, chin high. “He’s no worse than Cesar.”

I huffed. None of the guys on our last job could have ever done what Hairy did to me — watched me in a way that made me want to deck him or rip his clothes off. Maybe both. “Please. Cesar was hulking and hairy, sure, but he was also clean and well-spoken and—”

“Gay.”

“Just like almost every guy on Fashion Forward.”

“Exactly. Which meant their fuck-me eyes were pointed at each other and not you.”

“Which is exactly how I prefer it.” My nose wrinkled. “He’s seriously so hairy, Laney. Makeup is going to freak out when they see all that …” I gestured to my face, trying not to say hair again.

“Oh, come on,” she said with a chuckle. “He’s a fine specimen of man who has a particularly virile, testosterone-fueled head of hair and quite possibly the most beautiful beard I’ve ever seen.”

“Out of control. I bet his back looks like a sweater.”

“It is not out of control. It’s even groomed.”

“His back?” I asked with a brow raised.

She gave me a look. “His beard. He didn’t even have neck hair. His facial hair even looked combed, Annika.”

I shrugged. “Medieval.”

She sighed and settled back in her seat, looking pleased with herself. “Viewers are going to love him.”

“No accounting for taste, I guess.”

“Looks like you might too,” she said, laughing.
 

My mouth popped open, and I looked at her, disgusted. “You’re joking.”

“I mean, I wouldn’t blame you. Just remember to keep it all business or you’ll end up like Tina.”

I narrowed my eyes. “I’d never fall for a guy on the show, and Tina is the shining example as to why. She got all hung up over a guy and chose not to do her job because it would hurt him. Fired.
Over a guy
,” I scoffed.

“What people won’t do for love.”

“Good for her and all, but I’ve worked too hard to throw it away for a guy. Especially not a big, hairy medieval guy.”

“Hmm.” Laney watched me for a moment like she didn’t believe me.
 

My brows drew together. “Don’t
hmm
me like you think I’m lying.”

“Are you going to be able to produce him?” The question held an edge, tinged with challenge.

“Of course I’ll be able to,” I shot back.

But she didn’t back down. “That wasn’t the Annika I know. I expected smiles and arm touching and general amiability. Whether it’s sincere or not doesn’t matter. If you’re going to have any form of influence or control over him, it’s not going to happen if you repeat
that
. He shook you up. So, I don’t think it’s out of line as your boss to ask if you’re certain you can produce him.”