looking for love, right now, anyway," Micky said, slicing the air with her hand for emphasis.
Taryn rolled her eyes, subtly shaking her head. "What are you looking for?"
Micky turned Taryn's question over in her mind. Easy. She just wanted a straightforward man without an agenda or secrets. Simplicity. That, and for this conversation to be over.
"Budget numbers. I'm looking for budget numbers."
Taryn picked up her manila folder and reached across the desk to smack Micky over the head.
"Hey!" Micky exclaimed, holding her arms up in protest.
"Oh, stop. You need a good smack," Taryn defended, opening the folder and sliding a spreadsheet printout across the wood-grain laminate desk.
Micky laughed and looked at the numbers, reveling in a return to the business at hand. She poured over the file, sitting back in her chair to ease the tension out of her neck. She didn't think it was too much to ask to have a life that made sense.
"By the way, I spoke to Ben. There's a new partner to add to the list. I'll get you the details," Micky explained. She hated holding back from her friend—especially with all this talk of honesty. For now, though, she had no choice.
I n the few days that passed since having dinner with Micky, Nick stifled the impulse to call her, even though his mission required it. As much as he appreciated the lush body she could hardly conceal in her buttoned-up office gear, she'd gotten persnickety with him over nothing. Whatever she wanted to say about his baggage, she had a truckload of her own. Nick snickered to himself. The woman had a sharp truth detector. He'd need to watch out for that and stay focused on his priorities—Vivienne, Tom, and Azur. Nick couldn't afford to engage in games with a woman to whom he had an unwise attraction. He had enough problematic intersections of his personal and professional life.
He and his team had met with his not-quite father-in-law that morning to discuss the planned acquisition of Azur Technologies. Tom thought the small company might be lured into accepting additional investment. He wanted the technology, and he wanted the customers—both of which could fetch a pretty penny down the road. Tom didn't build companies. He bought and sold them. Between the acquisition and the potential sale down the road, Tom's long-term goals could mean a tremendous amount of business for Nick's firm.
Right after their meeting, Bob Stratford, a founding partner of the law firm, took Tom into his office for some glad-handing, but not before letting Tom know how bright Nick's future looked with the firm. Nick wasn't even a partner yet, and he was bringing in profitable business. No one seemed to care about the nepotism of the deal. Billings were billings.
An hour later, Nick heard a soft knock on the partially open door to his small, gray office.
Tom popped his head in. "I know you can't have lunch, but I wanted to stop in before I left."
"Thanks. Unfortunately, I have a pile of work to do," Nick said.
"Understood. Do you think you might be able to come by the house this evening for dinner?"
Nick prayed the man hovering in his doorway couldn't see him squirming in his seat. He scooted his chair forward under his massive desk.
"I don't usually get out of here until pretty late."
"I think you can ask Bob to let you out a little early tonight," Tom said with a wink and a cold, broad smile.
Nick sensed the inevitability of his evening plans. "What time?"
"Oh, seven or seven thirty. We'll sit down at eight," Tom informed him. "Vivienne will be there, and Jonah and his girlfriend."
Jonah was Vivienne's brother.
"She knows I'm coming?"
"She does. That's not a problem for you, of course."
Nick balked. "Of course not. I just don't want to surprise her."
"No worries. Besides, when is seeing your fiancé ever an unwelcome surprise?" Tom asked.
Nick could think of several scenarios, but kept his mouth shut on that topic. "I'll be there by seven thirty." Then, Bob and Amos Winston
Taryn rolled her eyes, subtly shaking her head. "What are you looking for?"
Micky turned Taryn's question over in her mind. Easy. She just wanted a straightforward man without an agenda or secrets. Simplicity. That, and for this conversation to be over.
"Budget numbers. I'm looking for budget numbers."
Taryn picked up her manila folder and reached across the desk to smack Micky over the head.
"Hey!" Micky exclaimed, holding her arms up in protest.
"Oh, stop. You need a good smack," Taryn defended, opening the folder and sliding a spreadsheet printout across the wood-grain laminate desk.
Micky laughed and looked at the numbers, reveling in a return to the business at hand. She poured over the file, sitting back in her chair to ease the tension out of her neck. She didn't think it was too much to ask to have a life that made sense.
"By the way, I spoke to Ben. There's a new partner to add to the list. I'll get you the details," Micky explained. She hated holding back from her friend—especially with all this talk of honesty. For now, though, she had no choice.
I n the few days that passed since having dinner with Micky, Nick stifled the impulse to call her, even though his mission required it. As much as he appreciated the lush body she could hardly conceal in her buttoned-up office gear, she'd gotten persnickety with him over nothing. Whatever she wanted to say about his baggage, she had a truckload of her own. Nick snickered to himself. The woman had a sharp truth detector. He'd need to watch out for that and stay focused on his priorities—Vivienne, Tom, and Azur. Nick couldn't afford to engage in games with a woman to whom he had an unwise attraction. He had enough problematic intersections of his personal and professional life.
He and his team had met with his not-quite father-in-law that morning to discuss the planned acquisition of Azur Technologies. Tom thought the small company might be lured into accepting additional investment. He wanted the technology, and he wanted the customers—both of which could fetch a pretty penny down the road. Tom didn't build companies. He bought and sold them. Between the acquisition and the potential sale down the road, Tom's long-term goals could mean a tremendous amount of business for Nick's firm.
Right after their meeting, Bob Stratford, a founding partner of the law firm, took Tom into his office for some glad-handing, but not before letting Tom know how bright Nick's future looked with the firm. Nick wasn't even a partner yet, and he was bringing in profitable business. No one seemed to care about the nepotism of the deal. Billings were billings.
An hour later, Nick heard a soft knock on the partially open door to his small, gray office.
Tom popped his head in. "I know you can't have lunch, but I wanted to stop in before I left."
"Thanks. Unfortunately, I have a pile of work to do," Nick said.
"Understood. Do you think you might be able to come by the house this evening for dinner?"
Nick prayed the man hovering in his doorway couldn't see him squirming in his seat. He scooted his chair forward under his massive desk.
"I don't usually get out of here until pretty late."
"I think you can ask Bob to let you out a little early tonight," Tom said with a wink and a cold, broad smile.
Nick sensed the inevitability of his evening plans. "What time?"
"Oh, seven or seven thirty. We'll sit down at eight," Tom informed him. "Vivienne will be there, and Jonah and his girlfriend."
Jonah was Vivienne's brother.
"She knows I'm coming?"
"She does. That's not a problem for you, of course."
Nick balked. "Of course not. I just don't want to surprise her."
"No worries. Besides, when is seeing your fiancé ever an unwelcome surprise?" Tom asked.
Nick could think of several scenarios, but kept his mouth shut on that topic. "I'll be there by seven thirty." Then, Bob and Amos Winston
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