Corporate Fire: Corporate Romance Book 1 (3 page)

A blush warmed Grace's face, and she averted her eyes to the napkin. So if the ski guy wasn't sending her notes, then someone else was. No. She slid the note away. She'd already been burned twice in one day. She didn’t want to find out that the third time was the charm.

She stared at the drink and tapped her finger on the table. It looked cheerful—probably the happiest thing she'd seen all day. She took a tiny sip and allowed the bright flavors to soak into her tongue. Her mood lifted a smidgen. She should at least thank the man.

Her hand shook as she took a pen out of her purse. She told herself she wasn't going on a date with anyone—just telling someone thanks. Before she talked herself into putting the pen away, she wrote on the other side of the napkin. “Thank you for the drink. It made me smile.” She wasn't sure about the last part. It seemed like oversharing, but before she could crumple up the napkin, the waitress whisked it off the table.

“I assume this is for your secret admirer?”

Grace nodded, dumbstruck. She tried to watch the waitress as she wove through the crowd, but she lost her.

Grace drew a long sip of the cosmo into her mouth. The alcohol worked its magic in her shoulders as she felt her muscles relax. She saw the ski teacher with his hand up the blond's skirt and the blond with her eyes closed. The ski teacher's other hand was on her waist, but Grace saw his thumb rubbing the woman's nipple. Holy hell, didn’t they realize they were out in public? Grace took another sip of her cosmo thinking maybe the alcohol would help make sense of the night.

The waitress planted another note on the table. Grace realized the couple was making her blush. She cleared her throat and said, “Who's sending me these?”

“He'd like to remain anonymous at this time.”

“Is he cute?” The words tumbled out of her mouth like she was already drunk despite having just a few sips.

The waitress leaned over. “If by cute you mean rich and gorgeous.”

“Seriously?”

She nodded and walked to the bar.

On the napkin was written, “Making you smile was the best thing to happen today.”

Whoa. This guy was smooth.

She glanced at the ski instructor just in time to see him pull his hand out from under the blond's skirt. He put his index finger in his mouth and slid it back out. His date rewarded him with a kiss—their tongues touching before their lips locked.

Grace crossed her legs, feeling turned on and embarrassed by her strange fascination at the same time. She'd never thought of herself as a voyeur. Her romance books were about as close as she got to watching other people.

The blond pulled back to straddle one of his legs, and the couple started talking again. He put his hand under her arm and rubbed his thumb in circles over her shirt where her nipple was again. She laughed at something he said, and Grace made herself look away. It was too weird.

She distracted herself by trying to figure out who was sending her the notes. People filled the bar, but she saw no obviously rich and gorgeous men. She was further amazed that no one seemed to be watching the porn movie going on at the bar. Everyone chatted with friends; she seemed to be the only solo person there. She turned back to the napkin and wrote, “I'd like to know who you are.”

Grace was shocked at herself. The waitress snatched the napkin off the table while Grace tried to control her breathing. Grace watched her as she walked behind the next table and then swung back for the bar again. Nothing.

Grace turned back to the ski teacher. His thumb had pushed down the top of the woman's camisole enough to rub against the skin of the nipple. Grace's nipples hardened. To be that uninhibited would be a dream come true. His other thumb pressed on the blond's skirt where her clitoris must be underneath. The blond leaned her head towards him, and he faced Grace as the blond whispered something in his ear. Grace knew she was wet from watching. This was so unlike her. He winked at Grace and smiled before nodding his head. He turned away from Grace and moved their bodies so his back was to Grace and the blond's back was against the bar.

He looked down at his lap for a minute and then stood up with the blond's hands grabbing his ass. Her knuckles whitened as his hips pushed against her. A group of people moved in front of them, but not before Grace saw the woman grin at her.

Grace clenched her legs together and stared down at the table, sweating as another napkin was placed in front of her. “Is the ski teacher turning you on?”

Oh no, oh no, oh no. He was getting the wrong idea of her completely. What was she doing, flirting with strange men and accepting drinks from them while watching a peep show play out at the bar? She should just leave. She drained the cosmo in the hopes that the alcohol would calm her enough that she could walk out of the bar without shaking.

With the alcohol swimming through her blood and settling her nerves, she decided she should at least write one more note to set things straight. “I prefer privacy.” There, simple and explanatory.

The alcohol wended through her veins, and she found herself sitting back down. At least she hadn't been thinking about her job. Maybe she could do this. Maybe she could meet a stranger. The waitress came from behind her and took the napkin away, followed by a man’s familiar voice approaching.

“I was hoping you really were coming here and not just blowing me off.” Doug walked around the table and sat in the chair on the other side, still dressed in his work clothes.

No, no, no, no, no, the guy sending her notes could not be holier-than-thou Doug. She flattened her palms against the table and tightened all the muscles in her body.

“Have you been sending me notes?” she asked.

“Notes? What notes?” he searched the table as he sat down. Fortunately, the note was long gone.

Relief relaxed her muscles once again. By no means did she want Doug sitting at her table, but at least he wasn't her mysterious stranger. She still had one good thing going for the day.

She gave her head a slight shake and wished another cosmo would appear. But if Doug was sitting with her, the stranger might lose interest. “Nothing. You know, telling you I was coming to Breckenridge was not an invitation.”

“Yeah, but this gives us a chance to get to know each other away from work. We missed you at Tony's. Did you hear Jeff slugged the guy who fired you?”

“What?”

“Ah, that got your attention. Security had to escort Jeff out and everything.”

“He punched him?” Grace didn't know why she felt sorry for Royce. Getting punched was getting off easy compared to losing your job.

Doug placed his hand on top of hers and said, “Does that turn you on? Should I find out where he lives and hit him too?”

“What? No!” Grace wriggled her hand out of his grip. The touch and the notes and the sex at the bar converged in her mind and made her gasp for air. She might go into full-blown hyperventilation.

“What is with you--”

As if to save her, the waitress slid another cosmo in front of her followed by another napkin.

Grace reached out to take the napkin, but Doug snatched it away. He read out loud, “I'm sorry if that's your date. Should I quit sending drinks?”

“Give that to me!”

Doug looked around the room and said, “What the hell? You're flirting with someone you've never seen? I heard that you're a prude.”

Grace grabbed the stem of her new cosmo glass, debating whether to toss it on him or drink it. She took a drink, her instinct to avoid making messes kicking in. The alcohol calmed her enough to settle her breathing. “Give the napkin back. It's none of your business.”

“Excuse me miss, is this man bothering you?”

Grace turned to the stranger, excited that he must be the one sending the notes. He was boy next door cute. The odd thing was he looked familiar. Her heart raced as she spoke. “Um, it's all right, thanks. Were you by chance sending me notes?”

The man grinned, but before he answered, Doug jumped up and shouted, “You've been flirting with him all night?”

“He's been sending me drinks.”

“That's the asshole who fired me!”

Grace's blood drained from her head to her feet in a nanosecond. “What do you want?”

He calmly held out his hand. “I'm Ted. I just came over to help you get rid of this guy. Come on. Let's sit at the bar.”

Angry at the layoff and the notion that one of the people involved was trying to ask her out, she tossed the cosmo on him and set the glass back on the table. “Get away from me.”

A man behind her cleared his throat. She turned and saw the corporate god. His blue eyes appeared apologetic, and he said, “I think there's been a misunderstanding. I was sending you the drinks while I tried to figure out how to approach you. I really wish we'd met under better circumstances.”

“So you sent your partner to try to pick me up first? Is my life some kind of sick joke to you?” Her vision blurred with tears, and she slapped him right across the cheek.

Ignoring whatever he was trying to say, she pushed past him and through the doors out to the dining room and then the lobby, clattering over the tile floor in her heels and stopping in front of the elevator. A hand fell on her shoulder and turned her around.

“Doug, quit touching me!”

But it wasn't Doug. It was Royce. His name jumped to her mind all too fast. She hated him, so she couldn't stand it that his freaking blue eyes made her pulse speed like she was on the slopes. He said, “I didn't want Ted to talk to you. I had nothing to do with him coming over aside from being too chicken shit to do it earlier myself.”

She should've been shrugging off his grip, but she didn't. “Leave me alone.” The elevator opened, and she stepped in, free of his hand.

He followed and said, “I'm sorry about how we met--”

She pushed the button for the top floor. “Your job is the reason we met.” She slipped out of the elevator as the doors closed. His eyes seemed to plead with her not to go, though he stayed in the elevator.

Grace turned to the stairwell and started her four floor hike with her legs and hands shaking. What kind of person fires other people for a living?

Unfortunately, the kind who looks like a GQ model.

4| The Wager

Grace woke up later than planned to the sound of a text tone. She grabbed her phone off the lamp table and saw several missed calls and texts from Jill. She sighed, sat up and tried to figure out how best to answer her. “I'm being stalked by the guy who fired me,” came to mind, but she couldn't even bring herself to joke about it.

She was such a loser.

The sum total of her night had been watching a ski instructor screw at the bar, fending off Doug, tossing a drink at ax man number one and slapping Royce. She shouldn't even know his name. She hung her hand at the side of her bed and let the phone fall to the floor.

The phone chimed again.

She tilted her head off the edge of the bed to read it. “This is Doug. Join me for breakfast.”

He shouldn't even have her personal number. She had to get rid of Doug. Picking it up, she typed, “Go skiing. I'm not going to date you.”

A moment later she read, “I'd be better than the ax man sending you notes last night.”

“Go skiing.”

She chucked the phone to the foot of her bed and got up to splash water on her face at the sink, followed by brushing her teeth. As she screwed the lid back on the toothpaste tube, she noticed her legs shook from the lack of food. Just a quick shower and then breakfast. She turned the water on and stripped. When the water was warm, she stepped in and let the water fall on her face, refusing to think about being fired and refusing to think about cobalt eyes that made her squirm. He'd better not approach her today or send his slimy little henchman over. She'd punch him.

Once groomed and dressed in black ski pants and a soft, azure sweater Grace made her way down to the hostess station at the dining room. She stared through the wall of windows at the back and watched the skiers zooming down the mountain, wishing she'd gotten up earlier.

“How many?” asked the hostess.

Grace held up one finger and followed the hostess to a booth on the right. Her stomach grumbled and felt nauseous all at the same time. It'd been far too long since she'd eaten. When the waitress arrived Grace ordered eggs, pancakes and bacon before she'd even finished saying good morning.

“All right, then,” said the waitress. “Coffee or orange juice?”

“Both.”

“Will do. And here's a note from another customer.” She plopped a napkin right in front of Grace.

Anger wrenched her stomach. She turned and saw Royce sitting in a booth on the opposite side of the restaurant. He hadn't shaved, making him look like a model for the cover of the winter L.L Bean catalog in his black cashmere sweater and dark ski pants. He smiled and raised his cup of coffee to her.

Her gaze moved to the napkin. “I should've asked you on a date instead of laying you off. I'm sorry.”

She clenched her hands together on top of the table as if that would stop her emotions softening. The blast of attraction the first time she'd seen him pushed against the pain of being dismissed from her job. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed him crossing the room. Pain defeated attraction.

She crumpled the napkin.

He sat across from her and smiled. “Good morning. I hoped we could start fresh today.”

“Funny, I hoped I would never see you again.” She threw the napkin at him. “Take your note and leave.”

“I want you to know that the layoffs were a financial decision. Your program director was completely against you getting the ax. I know because he ripped the CFO a new one after you arrived.”

Grace raised her eyebrows, noticing for the first time that he had a purple bruise across his jaw. It was half hidden by his stubble, but she was still surprised she hadn't noticed it last night. She must've slapped him right on it. “Jeff got you good. I'll have to buy him a drink the next time I see him.”