Читать книгу Tempting The Best Man - Tanya Michaels - Страница 10
ОглавлениеNO WAY. THAT DEEP, rich voice slid up Mia’s spine like a caress and she whirled around, temporarily forgetting the dipshit she’d been about to neuter. Finding herself eye to V with the unbuttoned collar of a black suit shirt, she lifted her gaze to a chiseled face that had only grown more arresting in the last decade. Her breath caught. “Ta—Daniel?” She’d almost called him Tall, Dark and Disapproving, her private nickname for him in college.
“Glad you remember.” He gave her an uncharacteristically warm smile before his expression hardened as he glanced past her to the guy who’d finally released her arm. “You are taking a cab home. Immediately.”
“What the hell business is it of yours?” The man thrust out his chin belligerently. “I don’t even know you. And—”
Daniel took a step forward, his silvery eyes glittering with menace. “Would you like to step outside where we can get to know each other better?”
Mia was impressed despite herself. Damn, he’d grown up well. Not that they’d been kids when they’d had Psych together. She’d been twenty, and he’d inspired a few very adult fantasies. Swallowing hard, she stepped away from both men to regain her composure.
Daniel gave her an assessing look, his gaze sliding over her in a way that made her shiver. Then he turned and led the dipshit away, either to hail him a cab or to pummel him in the parking lot. Either option was okay with Mia. She could take care of herself, but the more she thought about what had happened, the angrier she got. If one of the waitresses who routinely worked for her hadn’t called in sick at the last minute, the younger woman would be here now, harassed by unwanted attentions. There was a risk that Mia’s hostile words to a guest could get back to the client and upset him—although Mia had more faith in Eli than that—but as a self-employed party planner, Mia could take that risk without fearing reprisals from a boss. Would the waitress have felt free to stand up for herself, or would she have tolerated the pawing because she needed the job? Mia’s anger surged higher.
When she saw Daniel return, she abandoned the empty bottles she’d been collecting and strode toward him. “Did you beat him up?” Wishful thinking. Rigid rule-follower Daniel Keegan in a fight? Never. Yet he’d looked so deliciously sinister when he’d challenged the guy.
“Of course not. I got him a taxi. Although...” He pursed his lips, unexpected mischief lighting his eyes. “While I was helping him into the car, he may have hit his head. Twice.”
She grinned up at him, and when he returned the smile, her pulse fluttered. The pull of attraction was even stronger now than when he’d given a presentation on social motivation and she’d spent the class wondering what it would take to motivate him to misbehave. She’d concluded he wasn’t capable of it. Yet here he was enjoying an evening of strippers and booze. Promising.
Had he changed over time, or was he only in attendance because he was a friend or colleague of the groom-to-be? Another thought struck her. Was Daniel married? Her gaze slipped to his left hand, and she felt something ridiculously similar to relief when she didn’t spot a ring there. Daniel Keegan hadn’t been in her life in years—and, even when he had, his role had mainly been judgy classmate—so who cared if he was single?
When she realized the silence between them had become officially awkward, she blurted, “I can’t believe I ran into you here.”
“Same. I’m surprised you ended up a cocktail waitress. Although, I suppose you—”
Her hackles rose; he’d always been too quick to judge based on superficial appearance, too arrogant in thinking he knew a damn thing about her. “You suppose what?”
“Well.” He shifted uncomfortably. “Even with your grades, the idea of you in the business world...”
Was what, laughable? Ridiculous? He didn’t think she could cut it. Given the hours she put in, sacrificing the last few years of a social life to make her party-planning business successful, his offhand dismissal was infuriating.
“Same old Keegan,” she snapped. “Still leaping to the nearest conclusion based on cursory observation. What a shame. For half a second, I was thinking about how much fun we could have had if you’d changed.”
* * *
What kind of fun? The unspoken question kept Daniel rooted to the spot even as Mia spun on her heel and abandoned him to deliver another round of drinks.
Mia Hayes had always been sexy, but tonight—in that outfit, with those glinting amber eyes that alternately threatened and promised—she was lethally seductive. When she’d smiled up at him after he’d admitted Terrence had bumped his head, Daniel had been struck with sheer lust. He’d rarely been on the receiving end of her smiles; he might be willing to bust a few more skulls to see it again.
Unfortunately, based on that final glare, the head she wanted to see bashed was his own. He hadn’t meant to insinuate she couldn’t be more than a waitress...or that there was anything wrong with waitressing, for that matter. But he’d obviously put his foot in his mouth.
Not the first time.
When she’d knocked on his door in college, looking for his roommate, Daniel had made some assumptions based on the women his roommate usually dated. During small talk while they’d waited, Mia had made a comment about majoring in business and, taking in her blue-streaked hair and controversial fashion choices, he’d legitimately thought she was kidding. Laughing had not endeared him to her.
Twice before the dancers’ finale, he tried to approach Mia to apologize, but she evaded him, moving with impressive speed in her high heels. He didn’t want to make a scene by cornering her, but as he and the other men boarded the party bus for their next location, he regretted not having the chance to say he was sorry.
“Saw you escort Terrence from the building,” Eli said quietly. “Thanks.”
Daniel nodded. “Your cousin was having trouble taking no for an answer, and the waitress was about to eviscerate him. Damnedest thing—I went to school with her. Mia Hayes.”
“Isn’t she great? Not only has she made the entire wedding process painless, she stepped in tonight when one of her servers canceled last minute.”
Daniel blinked. “What do you mean ‘wedding process’?”
“She’s our event coordinator. She arranged everything for tonight and hosted a bachelorette scavenger hunt for Bex.” He reached into his wallet and pulled out a business card, which he handed to Daniel.
As Eli continued happily chatting about the arrangements Mia had overseen for next weekend, Daniel stared at the writing on the card. She ran her own company. So...not a cocktail waitress, then. Although it had seemed like a valid assumption under the circumstances, he was embarrassed by his reaction to seeing her. When would he learn that Mia Hayes didn’t meet simple expectations? On the plus side, he now had the phone number for her office.
Considering their history, further contact could be disastrous. Yet Daniel caught his own grin reflected in the window. He couldn’t say whether or not a conversation with her would end in disaster. But he was damn sure it wouldn’t be boring.
* * *
“HOW DID I LET Penelope Wainwright talk me into organizing a formal tea?” Mia asked, grateful to be back in the office before Monday was completely over. After showing her client three potential venues in the Roswell historic district, Mia had lost an hour plodding behind school buses and swearing at afternoon traffic. “High-society crap isn’t my area.”
Shannon Diaz, receptionist and one-woman IT department, closed a drawer in the metal filing cabinet. “You agreed because she caught you after a weekend of binging on Downton Abbey episodes,” the brunette reminded her. “And because Penelope is one of our best paying clients. And the tea is a fund-raising event for a good cause. Not to mention, you secretly adore her.”
“Ha! Well, I admire a couple of her qualities,” Mia relented. The sixty-year-old woman did not suffer fools, for instance. “But she’s a pain in the ass to work for—demanding, opinionated...”
Shannon shot her a pointed look over the top of her playfully retro multicolored horn-rimmed glasses.
Mia scowled. “Is it wise to imply I’m an opinionated pain in the ass when your job security is in my hands?”
“You’d be lost without me. My job security is just fine.”
“Too true.” Pausing at Shannon’s desk before heading into her office, Mia added, “You know, as wonderful as your professional confidence is, don’t you think that—”
“Want to hear your messages? No point in wasting office time on my personal life.”
“You’re brilliant and beautiful and not without a sense of humor. Plus, we already know she likes you. All you have to do is ask her out.”
“When I’m ready,” Shannon mumbled.
Timing had been a major hurdle between Shannon and Paige. The woman who ran the French café on the third floor of the office building once asked Shannon on a date, but, emotionally raw from recent heartbreak, Shannon had refused more abruptly than intended. By the time she changed her mind a few weeks later, Paige was seeing someone.
“You’re both single now,” Mia said.
“I’m aware. But what if it’s too soon after her breakup? Besides, it’s been ages since she asked me out. Who knows if she’s even still interested?”
“You—”
“So about these messages.” Shannon waved squares of pink paper at her. “A prospective client set up a meeting to get price quotes, Wren had a brainstorm about the venue for her sister’s engagement party and Dara Abrams returned your call about flower deliveries.” Mia was trying to set it up so that, rather than being thrown out afterward, any remaining live flowers from events she coordinated could be donated to nursing homes. “And a man called after lunch.”
Mia arched an eyebrow at the vagueness. Shannon was usually a stickler for details. “Did the man have a name?”
“One assumes. But he didn’t leave it.”
Even though it was an illogical leap, Mia’s mind immediately went to Daniel Keegan. It had been a shock to run into him for the first time since college. There were millions of people in the Atlanta metropolitan area; she and Daniel didn’t exactly run in the same circles. He’d looked so damn good. That part wasn’t unexpected—his physical appeal had always made her lady parts twitch with interest—but she’d been startled to find that he was even more attractive than she’d remembered. For a few brief, titillating moments, she’d believed the attraction was mutual.
But even if he thought she looked drop-dead sexy in a corset—which, frankly, she did—it was difficult to imagine him contacting her. In the past, he’d wanted as little to do with her as possible.
His loss. She banished all thoughts of Daniel and his mesmerizing eyes and the corded forearms that made her yearn for a look at the muscles hidden beneath his well-tailored clothes. She didn’t need mental images of him for fantasy fodder. She had cable.
Mia took the messages. “So what did the mystery caller say?”
“He asked to speak with you and seemed disappointed to hear you were out of the office. In lieu of leaving a message with me or on your voice mail, he asked if I knew when you’d be back. Maybe he’s planning to call again. Maybe you have a secret admirer!”
“I’ve never found the idea of a secret admirer romantic. It actually runs the risk of being a little stalker-y, if you think about it. Someone lurking on the edges of my life but without the nerve to walk up and say hi directly? I’m attracted to people who put their cards on the table.” She paused a beat. “Maybe Paige appreciates the direct approach, too.”
Shannon sighed. “I’m not ready. And you may sign my paychecks, but you are not the boss of my love life.”
“Sorry. You’re right.” Mia hadn’t meant to push so hard, she just wanted to see her friend happy. “I won’t bring it up again, I promise. But one last general piece of advice? To get what you want, sometimes you have to step out of your comfort zone.”
“I couldn’t agree more,” said a masculine voice from behind them.
Daniel. Mia spun around, stunned to find him entering the office. Her mouth dropped open, but she couldn’t think of anything to say other than what the hell are you doing here? which was hardly a polite, professional greeting. She swallowed. “What the hell are you doing here?”
“Stepping out of my comfort zone.” He flashed a self-deprecating grin. “I thought maybe I could buy you dinner, if you’re not busy after work.”
Tempting. Dressed casually in well-worn jeans and a black sweater, he looked every bit as good as he had Friday night. Where’s your pride? The man had insinuated that she couldn’t hold a grown-up job. If she were a petty person intent on making a point, she’d name-drop wealthy Penelope Wainwright. But she didn’t care about Daniel’s opinion, she just wanted him to go away and take his assumptions with him.
“Actually, tonight I...” She sighed. Fibbing wasn’t in her nature. Besides, Shannon was watching with acute interest. After all of Mia’s encouragement to take some risks, wouldn’t dodging Daniel be hypocritical? “Dinner sounds—” confusing “—nice. But I have at least another hour’s worth of work to do here.”
“No problem.” He held up a briefcase. “I noticed on the building directory that there’s a café upstairs. I can grab a cup of coffee and get some work of my own done.” He wrote down his number so she could text him when she was ready. Then he was gone, leaving her bemused over the turn of events.
“Well.” Shannon leaned back in her chair, grinning. “At least one of us has a date.”
“I wouldn’t call it a date, at least not in the romantic sense. Just two former classmates catching up. Daniel and I went to college together.”
“And you never...?” Shannon waggled her eyebrows. “I mean, he’s not my type, but damn.”
Mia resisted the urge to fan herself. Damn, indeed. “Get your mind out of the gutter, Diaz.” There’s not room for both of us. Even back in college, when Mia had told herself she couldn’t like anyone as closed-minded as Daniel Keegan, she’d had more than her share of dirty thoughts about the man. Seeing him again stirred up each and every one of them.
Trying to look unfazed, she headed into her office. But she couldn’t focus on work. She didn’t know which was more difficult—wrapping her head around Daniel’s out-of-the-blue invitation to dinner or trying not to fantasize about dessert.