Avoiding Mr. Right (16 page)

Nikki held up her hands in silent defense and mouthed, “Sorry.”

Tor's eyes twinkled with pay back. “I'd like you to attend the dinner meeting with
Creed as well, Nikki. I'm sure I'll have need of my assistant at some point during
the evening.”

“If I
must
.” Nikki narrowed her eyes on Tor, promising her own pay back then turned to Ms. Stephanos.
“Now that I think of it, Ms. Stephanos, Tor is free for at least the next two hours.
Please feel free to take your time as you two catch up.”

Tor coughed, barely hiding a choking laugh.
Touche.

“Oh, I won’t make him suffer for more than a few minutes.” With grace that was born,
not learned, Tor’s mother lowered herself onto the tan leather bucket chair. “I just
want to have a quick chat about the business.”

“I’ll be at my desk if you need me.” Nikki turned to Demetria and made a shooing motion.

A sneer curled Demetria's pouty red lips. Clearly, she was as excited as Nikki to
sit at the same dinner table together. “Are there any legal matters you need me to
assist with, Ms. Stephanos?”

“Why, yes, dear, there is,” Tor’s mom said.

Demetria’s sneer turned into a smug smile. “Of course, that’s why I’m here.”

Bella dug in her purse and pulled out a rectangular slip of paper. “Can you take care
of this, my dear? I got a speeding ticket last night.”

Nikki bit her lip in an effort not to burst out laughing.

“Of course.” Demetria plucked the ticket from Bella’s hand, pivoted, and strode toward
the door. She lifted her nose in the air and brushed past Nikki. “Let me know if you
want my hairdresser’s number.”

“Right, and you let me know if you need that stick yanked out,” she muttered under
her breath, trailing behind Demetria and willing the woman's hair to catch on fire.
Unfortunately, nothing happened. One day, that witch was going to fall off her five-inch
spikes and break something.

Please let me be around when that happens.

And the dinner meeting would likely be the time since Nikki couldn't fathom spending
an evening across the table from Demetria fawning all over Tor and not stab her with
her own shoes.

The door clicked shut, and Tor gave an exaggerated sigh. “What do you want, Mother?”

“Good gods, Toraos, I just stopped by to check on you. Is it impossible to believe
I’m a concerned mother?”

“We both know the answer to that.” His mother was nothing if not concerned, but only
about herself. Rarely did she
just
stop by. There was always an ulterior motive. “I have a new cosmetic line to get off
the ground.” He set the file aside and stood. “That takes time and sacrifice.”

“It doesn’t have to, you know.”

He pinned her with a stare. “And I’ve told you I have no desire to”—he waved a hand—“magic
my way to the top.”

She stood, making a clicking sound with her tongue. “That's too bad, dear.”

The room transformed and Tor found himself standing next to his mother inside a huge
nomadic tent. Arid heat enveloped him, burning his skin. The flaps of canvas snapped
in the desert breeze. Unlit brass braziers swung from the tent supports above an array
of colorful carpets that lay strewn across the shifting sands of the floor. The bellow
from a camel wafted through the opening of the tent, as did the smell of heat and
camel only found in the blazing desert, and a light shower of sand.

Tor took a deep breath, searching for patience. “Very funny, Mother. Return me to
my office.”

Her lower lip rolled down in a sulk. “You used to be so fun when you were a boy. Ready
for any adventure.”

“I’m not a boy anymore.”

In an instant, they were back in his office.

“Obviously.” She took a few steps toward him. “But life isn’t all work. Promise me
you won’t forget to have fun.”

Concern from his mother always made him uncomfortable. In the past, she’d wielded
the parental card like a weapon, manipulating him to do her will. When he was younger,
more naive, he’d wanted to please her. It didn’t take long to realize his mother’s
needs always came first. He no longer trusted her in the most simple of matters, which
made being in business together very tenuous.

He maneuvered away from her, placing the desk between them. He’d found that the best
way to avoid any woman’s trap, including his mother’s, was to stay out of range, both
physically and emotionally. The only woman he wasn’t suspicious of was Nikki—safe,
plain, dependable Nikki. Always there when he needed her. The only thing she wanted
from him was a paycheck. It was the perfect relationship.

His mother propped her hands on her hips and glared. “You’re not sleeping with Demetria,
are you?”

He settled into his office chair. “Not that it’s any of your business, but no.”

“Good.” Her stance relaxed. “I’ve never cared for her. Too much like her uncle, Narcissus—always
staring at herself in the mirror.”

“Right.” He refrained from pointing out his mother’s streak of conceitedness. “And
our family is such a monument of virtue.” Tor had only met his father once. He was
some middle-aged surfer who wandered the earth in search of the perfect wave. Not
exactly the role model he’d needed as a boy. Not to mention his mother was Aphrodite,
freakin’ goddess of beauty. “Talked to Dad lately?”

“No.” She cocked her head. “What about Nikki?”

“What about Nikki?”

“Are you sleeping with her?”

"No, I'm not sleeping with her." He screwed up his face at the ridiculous suggestion.
“Though she's very attractive, she’s my assistant.”

“So?” She leaned a hip against his desk. “I sleep with my assistants all the time.”

“Too much information, Mother.” He covered his ears with his hands. “Do I have to
remind you of the week I spent as a stone statue when after I broke up with Medusa’s
niece? To this day I can’t stand pigeons. Or what about that nutcase nymph who went
bat shit after our fling and cursed me with a nearly incurable case of jock itch?”
He released his head and held up one hand, ticking off each finger. “Never again will
I date demigoddesses, goddesses, nymphs, satyrs, wood sprites.” He switched to his
other hand. “Trolls, witches, banshees, sirens, or any other magical creature. They’re
psycho. And even if Nikki doesn't know she’s a demi-goddess, she’s still one.”

“Yes, yes, you’ve regaled me with your extensive list too many times to count.” She
shook her head. “But you can’t base the future love life on a few unfortunate experiences.”

“Unfortunate events? Try humiliating, emasculating—and painful. Never again.”

“Fine. I get it.”

He folded his hands in front of him and rested them on the desk. “Really, because
no matter how many times I tell you this the information doesn’t seem to sink in.”

She harrumphed and stood. “Well, it’s not natural. You’re the son of Aphrodite. Sex
is in your blood.”

“I’m not interested in one-night stands anymore. As a matter of fact, I’m not interested
in a relationship at all. They’re too messy and I have a business to run.”

“I won’t always be around to look after you, Toraos.”

“If only that were true.” He pierced her with a stare. “It might have escaped your
attention, but you’re immortal. You will
always
be around.”

She shrugged. “Maybe I’d like to hear the patter of tiny feet. I might be a goddess,
but I’d still like grandchildren.”

“Then go bug one of your other kids. Surely one of them wouldn’t mind being a baby
machine for you.”

She harrumphed. “None of them are talking to me.”

“Shocker.”

“Is wanting to be part of your life so bad?”

“You are never just a part of my life. You insist on controlling my every move.” He
narrowed his gaze. “Butt out.”

“Fine, but I think you should seriously consider Nikki. She’s from good stock.”

“Ah.” Tor nodded and pointed at his mother. “You’re trying to get back in Ares’s good
graces and you think me hooking up with Nikki will achieve that.”

Her eyes rounded with false innocence. “That is a horrible thing to say. I genuinely
like Nikki and could give a satyr’s ass about ever speaking to Ares again.”

“Good, then we’re done with this conversation.” He leaned forward, bracing his hands
on either side of his head, and stared at his e-mail in-box on the monitor, praying
she would leave. “Have a nice day.”

“You are an ungrateful child.”

“Man, Mother. I’m an ungrateful man.”

“You know, Toraos, things change. You may think you’re in control, but I still own
Kythera Cosmetics.”

He leaned forward, lowering his hands. “Is that a threat?” He’d lost track of how
many times she’d threatened to take the company away from him, but she’d yet to act
on her warning.

“All I’m saying is that your perception is skewed. One day you could lose the most
precious thing in your life.” She strolled to the door and looked over her shoulder
at him, resting her manicured hand on the sleek silver handle. “And I guarantee, you
will not have even realized how priceless it was until it’s gone.”

He slowly shook his head. “What is it with you gods and your riddles? Can’t you ever
just come out and say what you mean? Lose what? This company? You? No matter what,
I will be just fine.”

“If you say so.” With a sly smile, she turned the handle and opened the door.

He stood and followed her into the outer office. “Healthy, adult conversations, Mother—you
should try it sometime.”

She ignored him. “Good-bye, Nikki. Don’t let him work too hard.”

Nikki stood and walked to the edge of her desk. “I’ll try, but he’s pretty stubborn.”

Aphrodite performed a half pivot and looked at him, waving a perfectly painted finger
at Nikki. “See how well she knows you. You’d better keep her around.”

“I’m not going anywhere, Ms. Stephanos.”

She patted Nikki’s cheek. “We’ll see, sweetie.”

Tor ground his teeth. Why did he let his mother push his buttons? Probably because
she represented everything he worked so hard against—privilege, superiority over the
lesser beings, crazy inbreeding. He wanted no part of the fantasy world she lived
in.

The elevator bell rang and Aphrodite, goddess of beauty, stepped inside as if entering
a royal carriage. Nikki moved to stand beside him, and they silently watched the elevator
doors close,
finally
ending his mother’s visit.

Nikki faced him and opened her mouth to speak, but stopped, her eyes narrowing. She
brushed his shoulder with her hand. “Is that sand?”

Tor spun and stormed back into his office. Despite his mother’s best efforts, he
would
keep his life normal and god-free. But she was up to something, he just hoped he
saw it coming when it finally did and could duck out of the way.

Nikki reclined in one of the padded chairs in Kythera’s executive dining room.

Creed Killion turned out to be much younger and far better-looking than she’d anticipated.
His hair was short and messy, like he’d spent the day on the beach. A braided leather
choker hung around his neck, and he wore a geometric white-and-orange shirt that could
only be described as bohemian. Creative types were so cool. Though not nearly as handsome
as Tor, he certainly turned heads.

Poor Demetria didn’t know where to ply her womanly wiles. Though always sniffing around
Tor, the lure of fresh meat seemed almost too much for her to ignore.

She’d gone all out in a skintight black dress that displayed her breasts in their
most appealing light. As always, the attorney had donned her signature heels. This
pair was black and glistened in the low light. The heels were so narrow she could
spear a fish with them if she ever found herself stranded on a desert island. Now
that
was an appealing thought.

Tor looked as handsome as ever in a black silk jacket and pants. His tan skin accentuated
the white of his shirt and brought out the topaz in his eyes. Memories of his naked
torso on display earlier flitted through her mind.

Nikki raised her wineglass to her lips in an attempt to tamp down the lovely image
of him, but stopped, realizing it was empty. She reached for the golden bottle near
Demetria only to have her snatch it away.

“This is nearly empty.” Demetria cradled the bottle against her chest and glared before
dumping the rest of the amber liquid into Tor’s goblet. “Try the other one.”

Jeez, greedy much?

Creed held up the bottle of merlot. “May I pour for you?”

His smile melted the effects of Demetria’s frigid treatment. Nikki decided she could
get used to being looked at the way he was staring at her now. “Thank you.”

She held out her glass, and his fingers skimmed seductively along the neck of the
bottle to steady it as he poured; making her wonder if Creed Killion applied the same
techniques to other activities in his life. Her appreciation for the company’s newest
addition doubled.

Nikki lifted the glass to her lips. The rich tang coated her tongue. She smiled and
said, “So Creed, have you had a chance to peruse the new Goddess line overview?”

He relaxed against the back of his chair. “I have. It’s very impressive.”

Demetria folded her arms on top of the table and leaned in, pushing her boobs up.
“Well, that’s what you get when you work with Tor.”

Nikki mentally sighed, wishing just once they could get through a conversation without
the other woman working it to her advantage…or turning it into a hookers-r-us moment.

“I’ve been following Kythera for several years. The company has had steady growth
and the marketing strategies have been spot-on. I’m confident the Goddess line will
garner equally impressive results.”

“How can we miss, with you joining us?” Nikki lifted her glass. “Welcome to the team.”

Creed tipped his head in appreciation. “Thank you. I’ll admit there weren’t many things
not to like in the generous offer I received.” He held her gaze, a sexy smile playing
around his mouth. “Even now, I’m pleasantly surprised by the hidden perks.”

Okay, he was definitely flirting with her. A flush spread across her cheeks. And now
she was blushing like a tween at her first R-rated movie. His smile widened. She set
her glass on the table, but when she pulled her hand away, the goblet toppled over,
sloshing red wine down the front of her green camisole.

“Crap.” Nikki jumped back, knocking her chair over. “I’m so clumsy.”

“I’d say.” Demetria laughed. “Maybe we should cut you off.”

Creed handed Nikki his napkin. “Dip it in your glass of water and then soak you blouse
in soda water when you get home. Maybe you can salvage it.”

“Thank you.” She took the cloth from him and blotted her shirt. “Handsome and handy.”

Creed winked at her. “I have other talents, too.”

“Any plans yet?” The briskness in Tor’s tone snapped Nikki from their playful exchange.
He'd been so quiet at the table, Nikki was astonished to realize she'd forgotten he
was there. Maybe there
was
a cure for her crush, it's name was Creed.

“Plans?” Creed said.

“For the line.” Tor’s gaze cut to Nikki and back to Creed in a way that felt a lot
like chastising. “Inspiration for the future campaigns?”

Nikki couldn’t help but wonder if she’d done something to irritate Tor. Setting the
napkin on the table, she settled against her chair, determined to get back on Tor's
good side. After refilling her glass, she took another sip of wine and pulled away
from Creed's interesting gaze.

“I have several ideas churning.” Creed tapped his index finger against the table.
“But I think one of the more interesting campaigns I’ve been mulling over is just
what you’re looking for.”

“My, Mr. Killion,” Demetria purred, “you work fast.”

“You know how us creative types are, Ms. Mirrors. We’ve always got something in the
hopper in case the perfect project arises. Makes it very difficult to get to sleep
sometimes.”

“Please, call me Demi.” Her tongue flicked out and ran along the length of her bottom
lip. “I’ve got just the cure for your sleepless nights.” She sat back, hooking her
arm over the back of the chair, and slowly crossed her legs.

Nikki cleared her throat at Demetria's suggestive tone. Did the woman have no shame,
and why wasn’t Tor giving Demi his glower of disapproval? If her behavior wasn’t embarrassing,
Nikki would eat her sensible flats.

“And what might that be, Ms. Mirrors?” Creed asked. His reply held more amusement
than reciprocation. Nikki bit her lip to repress a smile.

Obviously picking up on his lack of interest, Demetria changed tactics. “Kythera Cosmetics’
orientation package, of course. Nothing will lull you to sleep like policies and procedures.
I should know—I revamped most of them last month.”

Nikki took another long tug on her wine and swallowed. “Aren’t you handy?”

Demetria gave her a catty squint with an extra dose of what Nikki called dog-butt
lips. “More than you’ll ever know.”

“I’d love to hear your ideas, Creed.” Tor ignored the women’s exchange and lifted
his glass, his gaze sliding to Nikki. “Do I have any time in the morning?”

She dug in the pocket of her hunter-green blazer and took out her phone to quickly
scroll through his calendar. “You have a meeting with Demetria at nine, lunch with
the head of product testing at eleven, and an appointment with your tailor for your
tux fitting for the Goddess line gala the rest of the day.”

Tor seemed to consider this news as though it were a bid for a hostile takeover of
his company. “I’ll reschedule with legal. Does nine tomorrow work, Creed?

Demetria straightened. “You’re canceling our meeting?”

“Rescheduling.” Tor drained his glass and ran his tongue around its rim as though
he couldn't part with a single drop.

Nikki’s eyes rounded at the unsophisticated action. Tor was never a big drinker, and
definitely never less than perfectly refined at all times. Something was definitely
up with him tonight.

He eventually set his glass down. “There’s nothing pressing, is there?”

“Well, no, but—” Copper curls sprang about her head with each indignant shake Demetria
gave.

“Good.” Tor cut off any further argument. “Nine?”

Demetria gave an irritated grunt and slumped back against her chair.

“Nine works great for me.” Creed turned to Nikki. “You should be there, too.”

She started to tell him that she was usually around, but Tor beat her to it.

“She’ll be there. She’s always there when I need her.” He eyes tracked down her body
and back to her face, as if seeing her for the first time. “Always.”

She wasn’t sure if the statement had been a compliment or verbal slap. He stared as
if he wanted to brand her like a cow. Though she was seriously crushing on her boss,
he didn’t own her. Nikki turned to Creed and smiled. “I’ll be there.”

“If you’ll excuse me.” Demetria shoved her chair away from the table and stood, striking
a supermodel pose and attempting a seductive smile, which in Nikki’s opinion fell
flat. “I’m going to the ladies’ room.”

Nikki refrained from pointing out that the attorney was no lady. Creed returned Demi’s
smile while Tor ignored her completely, instead picking up the golden bottle and tipping
it on end. He scowled at the three drops of liquid that fell into his wineglass.

“I’ll just get rid of this.” Demetria leaned over and snatched the bottle from his
hand. With a flip of her hair, she sauntered out of the executive dining room.

Tor pulled his gaze from the quickly departing Demetria and what was apparently his
favorite bottle of wine ever to instead trail down the wet shirt covering Nikki’s
breasts. She shifted and crossed her arms. The wet stain on the front pressed against
her skin, but it was Tor’s unwavering stare that made her uncomfortable.

After a few seconds, he turned to their guest. “I’m sorry to cut this meeting short,
Creed, but I’m afraid I’m not feeling like myself tonight.”

“Are you ill?” All of her irritation with him fled. Nikki stood and moved around the
table. Without thinking, she pressed her hand to his forehead. “You do feel a bit
warm.”

“I’ll be fine.” He gripped her hand and drew it away from his face. His thumb gently
caressed her palm a few times before he released her hand and stood. “I think I just
need to lie down.” He held out his hand for Creed to shake. “I look forward to tomorrow.”

“Nine o’clock, I’ll be there.” Creed shook Tor’s hand and smiled at Nikki.

Tor’s voice came out gravelly and a little terse. “Nikki, will you walk me to the
elevator? I’d like to discuss a few things about tomorrow.”

She stared into his unwavering expression, slightly confused and once again irritated
by his surly manner. “Of course, Mr. Stephanos.”

“Should I wait to walk you out?” Creed shrugged. “Perhaps we could share a cab.”

Again Tor cut her off, “This may take a while, but I’m sure Demetria would appreciate
an escort.”

“Of course.” Creed’s smile faltered. He sat again and poured half a glass of wine.
“Might as well finish this off while I’m waiting.”

Discussions with Tor were usually quick and to the point. Maybe Creed would still
be around when she finished—she certainly hoped so. She gave him a wide smile and
held out her hand, hoping it conveyed her apologies and interest.

“Coming, Nikki?” Tor turned the corner, not checking to see if she followed or giving
her time to reply.

She gritted her teeth. What in the heck had gotten into him? He usually didn’t bark
commands at her. Why was it that the one time in more months than she wanted to admit,
a guy finally showed interest, Tor decided to have a psychotic episode? “He’s usually
not like this. I promise.” She pulled back her hand, her smile tightening. “See you
tomorrow, Creed.”

“I look forward to it.” He held up his glass in a salute.

She turned and walked with as much dignity as she could muster, knowing he was watching
her.
Don’t trip. Don’t trip.
She rounded the corner and jumped, nearly running into Tor, who waited on the other
side of the wall. “God, you scared me.”

His fingers wrapped around her upper arm and he started to walk, semi-dragging her
with him. “You seemed to have hit it off nicely with Creed.”

She did a little skip to keep up with his long strides. “He’s a nice guy. I think
he’ll fit in well here.”

“Do you?”

She leaned away from him. The lighting had been turned down, so it was difficult to
see his face. Was he angry? His tone said he certainly wasn’t happy. “Is something
wrong?”

“What would be wrong?” His hand slid from her arm to rest on her waist. “I just don’t
like my assistant flirting with the new boy.”

“I wasn’t flirting.” Well, maybe she had been a little bit, but never once in the
six years she’d worked for Tor had he ever shown concern in her private life or interests.
What was he up to now? His fingers splayed against her lower back, pulling her a little
closer to him. Her ire melted and warmth spread through her, sending butterflies up
into her chest. It was odd and exhilarating to have him touch her. Contact had been
minimal up until now, an elbow brush in the car, finger touches when handing him files,
but nothing beyond that. A strange notion hit her. Was he jealous? She tested out
the idea. “But it might be nice to go on a date if he asked. I think we have a lot
in common.”

His hold tightened. “Do you?”

Okay, something was definitely wrong. His hand stopped pushing her along and began
a tiny stroking motion against her waist, and a tremor of pleasure skated through
her. She struggled to wrap her mind around the fact that Toraos Stephanos was jealous,
which meant he must be interested in her. Wait, did it mean he was interested, or
just being an overly possessive boss who was afraid of losing his underpaid, overly
fervent assistant?