A Friendly Engagement (7 page)

Something resembling disappointment zipped through her body. Although she’d fantasized about a lip-lock all weekend, she didn’t really want him to kiss her. Did she? How awkward would things become then?

Might be fun to find out.

Devi straightened the row of snaps aligning the front of her micro-suede coatdress, and then ran her fingers through the length of her hair, her bracelets clinking together. She had to pull herself together and breathe. If she spoke now—all breathless and wispy—he’d know his effect on her. She wasn’t ready for that.

If she didn’t watch herself, she’d go all girly-giggly every time he paid her a glance.
So not happening.

Her live-for-the-moment self urged her to go for it. The voice in the back of her head, the one that sounded eerily like her grandma, told her not to ruin a good thing. Like her job, and their friendship.

“Grab your purse. Oh, and before we close up today, we’re going to have a champagne toast with the entire office to celebrate our engagement.”

“You’ve thought of everything.”

“I usually do.” His smug attitude wrapped around her throat.

Devi refused to argue. She pulled her purse from the bottom drawer of her desk and slid the strap over her shoulder. She tugged the length of her hair out from underneath and flung it down her back. Hard to believe Omar had planned ahead. Usually she handled those types of pesky details. He may think he handled everything, and he did a good job with the big picture, but tiny details weren’t his forte. And wasn’t this engagement a tiny detail inside the big picture of getting that contract?

He steered her toward the door with his hand on her elbow. His touch brought back the heat from their near kiss.

This near kissing had started to become habit.

Devi didn’t like the table turned on her plan. She was supposed to be the one to make Omar uncomfortable, out of his element. Instead of her keeping
him
on his toes—having a little fun at his expense—
she’d
become the uncomfortable one.

He might be getting his payback without even realizing it. How like Omar to get what he wanted without trying.

They made their way down the corridor toward the elevators. He ushered her inside. “Ladies first.”

“Thank you.” She gripped the strap of her purse and eyeballed the new ring around her finger. “Before we head out, I have one other question.”

“Shoot.” The elevator door slid closed and Omar pushed the button that would take them to the parking garage.

“What’s the plan in regards to the ring after this is all said and done?”

“You can keep it.”

She shook her head. “No. I don’t want it. It’s gorgeous with a capital
G
, but not my style. You know my tastes are a little more…different.”

“Like you.”

She nodded. Sometimes he knew her too well. “I have a suggestion.”

Omar stopped the elevator and gave her his full attention. “I’m almost afraid to ask.”

“I didn’t think you feared anything?”

“Not normally, but I’ll share a secret with you.”

“Share away.”

“Sometimes
you
scare me,” he teased.

Ditto. But I’m sure for different reasons.
“Don’t worry, you can handle this one.”

“Are you going to tell me you want to auction it off and use the funds to take the office to Disneyland, adopt a lion from Zimbabwe, or maybe start a website focused on a support group for overworked assistants employed by ambitious bosses?” He pulled his keys from his pocket and twirled them around his fingers. His smug smile over his own humor touched Devi to her bones. Five years ago she’d never have imagined him making a joke.

“Hardy-har-har. You’ve become quite the carefree comedian now that you’ve gotten your way.”

He shrugged, a mischievous smile curving his lips. “What can I say? I’m taking your incessant nagging about loosening up to heart.”

“You can get away with your sarcastic ’tude when we’re alone because it’s all fun and games—”

“Fun and games?” Omar smirked.

She ignored his comment. A sure-fire attempt at distraction if there ever was one. “But the real test will be next week when you meet Bartow. Will you be Mr. Funny Man then, or go all straight-faced Mr. Businessman?” She crossed her arms.

“I guess you’ll have to wait and see. Now what’s your suggestion?” His smile disappeared as he returned his attention to the ring.

She chewed on her bottom lip while she stalled for courage. Omar had quick spurts of humor, but so far he hadn’t mastered the art of making it last longer than a few minutes. She’d have to work on changing that. “I’m rethinking my idea. I kind of like your website suggestion. I could buy a domain name, something like awesomeassistants.com. Groups of overworked assistants could gather and commiserate, sharing stories of woe…”

“You don’t know the meaning of woe.”

She laughed. “As if you do.”

He shrugged. “You might be surprised.”

“Surprise me, Bossman.” She nudged him in the arm with her shoulder.

“Another time. I vote for adopt a lion.”

Her face grew warm. “Um, I already adopted a lion. Last year.”

He threw back his head and laughed. “I should’ve known.”

She loved the sound of his laugh. The sound when he
really
laughed. The deep, rough sound that curled her toes. She didn’t hear it often enough.

“Anyway, I want to spread the love and the money, so how about we donate the ring to another good cause?” She eyed him from beneath her lashes, holding her breath as she waited for his reaction.

His eyebrows furrowed, then released. “Details?”

“We donate the ‘exceeding expectations’ ring to the Atlantic Women’s Shelter downtown? Of course, in the name of Esterly Financial.”

He turned fully in her direction and fidgeted with his keychain. “That’s a sensible request and one that would get Esterly some great kudos in the press. But why that particular shelter?”

“Years ago they helped my mom.”

The key ring spun around Omar’s pointer finger one last time before he caught it in his palm. “I don’t know much about your mom. All I know is she died when you were young and your grandmother raised you.”

“Good memory.” She’d probably only mentioned that in passing. Years ago.

“Somewhere along the line your mom lived out here on the east coast?”

The elevator suddenly became claustrophobic. If she wanted Omar to agree to her suggestion, it would only make sense he’d want to know all the whys, whens, and wheres.

Too bad Devi’s emotions ran close to the surface whenever she thought or talked about the mother she’d never known. Omar had never seen her cry, or even come close. She hated to ruin a good run now. “Do you really want to hear the sordid details?”

“Only if you want to share.” His voice had softened, along with his eyes.

She was a goner.

Chapter Five

Damn it.
Just that little change in Omar’s tone activated the waterworks behind Devi’s eyes. She bit the side of her tongue in an effort to stop her teetering emotions.

He’d given her the choice to back out, but if she wanted to help the shelter, she needed to tell him the story. She gripped her purse strap until her knuckles turned white and the ring dug into her skin.

“My mom came out here to North Carolina to attend college when she was eighteen. I’m sure part of her reasoning, besides the scholarship, was the fact she could get out from beneath Grandma’s thumb by putting several states between them.” Devi took a shaky breath and forced a smile, hoping to lighten her mood.

“Your grandmother is a sweetheart.”

“Sure, when you meet her for a couple of hours she’s adorable as hell. But as a parent she’s a bit overbearing. Trust me.”

She loved Grandma more than anything, but living across country had its advantages.

So much for keeping conversations and relationships light.
Omar would get to peel back a layer of Devi’s past that she didn’t generally share. They locked gazes. Determined not to betray her outer calm by a quiver in her voice, she took a deep breath and then blinked several times to quash the tears trapped beneath the surface.

“Anyway, according to Grandma, my mom was out here for a couple of years. I guess they parted on such bad terms that they hardly spoke. Somewhere along the way my mom met a guy named Billy.”

Omar stood statue still as he gave her his full attention.

“My mom didn’t share a lot of deets with Grandma. I don’t even know this Billy guy’s last name, when they met, where… Pretty much nothing. Anyway, all Grandma knows is that he’s my father. My mom refused all offers my grandma made in trying to contact him as my mom’s due date grew near. Mom said he didn’t want any part of us, so she wasn’t going to burden him with any news.” Devi’s shoulders sagged with each word she revealed. She’d never gotten this far into her story without shedding a few tears. That’d become the main reason she didn’t talk much about her past. Besides Cass and Trev, not many people knew the full story. Somehow, sharing everything with Omar wasn’t as difficult as expected, even though she still fought tears.

He studied her face and nodded. She could almost see the wheels spinning.

“Is that why you agreed to help me after I mentioned the raise? You’re using the money to find your father?”

She nodded. Give it to Omar to put the puzzle pieces together. “I have no clue where to start on my own, so hiring a P.I. will be the best bet.”

“You didn’t have to wait for a raise, Devi. I thought you considered me a friend, not just a boss. I can see how important this is to you, and I’d have helped if you’d asked.”

“I appreciate that. But there are already too many people who take advantage of your friendship and your bank book. I didn’t want to be one of them.” If he didn’t stop being so concerned—and looking at her with such soft eyes—she’d end up crying for sure.

“Next time you’ll know better. I’m always here to help. I want to help. Especially you.”

“Thanks.” Her heart expanded at the emotion behind his words. She had some amazing friends, Omar included.

“Anyway, back to your story. Your mom becomes pregnant. Doesn’t she tell this Billy, or does he reject her?” Omar’s voice caught on the last sentence, and Devi could’ve hugged him and cried at the same time. He might be a powerful businessman, but he had a caring heart.

Devi peeled her palms from her purse strap and wiggled her fingers, letting some cool air dry her damp skin. “From what Grandma told me, Billy didn’t want a wife and kid. He took off. From there my mom started missing classes and she lost her scholarships, then her job, and finally her sorority had no choice but to boot her out. She ended up going to the women’s shelter. After a few weeks, one of the counselors convinced her to call home.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Me, too. She was only twenty. Way too young to go through all that alone. Grandma sent her money for a bus ticket home to San Diego, but Mom was never the same. She closed herself off. I guess the only time she perked up was when she talked about me.”

“Do you remember much about her?”

A weight squeezed down on Devi’s chest. She swallowed against the tears forcing their way up her throat. “She died right after delivering me. Hemorrhage.” Devi lowered her head. She didn’t like people to see her at her most vulnerable. She sniffed, then hiccupped, managing to hold back the faucet of tears right below the surface.

“Sorry, O,” she choked out and turned away as one teardrop slid down her cheek.

“You have nothing to be sorry about.” He lifted her chin and turned her face back toward him. With the rough pad of his thumb he wiped away her tear. His warm, gentle touch only forced other tears to push past her eyelids.

Damn it.

They rolled down her cheeks even though she blinked several times in an attempt to stop them. Omar’s image became a watery blur. “I-I want to find him. T-talk to him. Hear his side of things.”

She couldn’t stop yammering. As if the faster and louder she talked, the sooner her tears would dry up.

“Are you sure you want to take the chance? What if he’s a total ass?” Omar’s jaw tightened as he dabbed away more tears with the sleeve of his shirt.

Her stomach quivered as she released a shaky breath. She wiped at the mascara staining his cuff. “What if he isn’t?”

“I don’t want to see you get hurt.” He palmed each side of her face, and she had no choice but to meet his eyes. The warmth of his hands gave her a moment of comfort, but the concern in his eyes made a new batch of tears cloud her vision.

She hated crying in front of anyone. Especially in front of him. At least she could be thankful she hadn’t gone into the full-blown ugly cry. The one that required tissues and nose blowing and thoughts of relocation.

“I’ve thought it all out. No matter how much I fear the outcome, I have to take the chance. Maybe he can be in my life. And if not…well, at least I’ll know.”

He nodded. “I get it. Even though I knew who my mother was, I always regretted that I didn’t have her in my life as a kid. There were times I felt abandoned by her. Or that she preferred my brothers over me.”

Devi stiffened. Omar’s confession broke her heart further for the little boy he’d been. Under his father’s strict rules he’d lacked any comfort from his mother. She’d never been there for him, instead she’d been off globetrotting the planet. No wonder he’d felt abandoned. He hadn’t even had his brothers. Could that have something to do with why he didn’t let a woman into his life for long? Once there was a chance he might care, he cut them loose?

Omar dropped his hands to his sides, and she cleared her throat.

“And can we drop the subject now? I hate crying.” She tried to laugh but squeaked instead.

Then Omar did something unexpected. He pulled her into his arms and gave her one of the best hugs she’d ever experienced. Not anything resembling the awkward hug he’d given on the sidewalk. She hadn’t felt this safe in any man’s arms since Grandpa Boss.

But Grandpa Boss gave that keep-your-chin-up kind of protective hug that made you want to stop crying. And Omar’s hug filled her with warm confidence, gave her strength, and soothed her soul. Plus, there was no denying Omar smelled like nature and spice, whereas Gramps had that aura of sweet tobacco he packed in his pipe.