Laguna Nights (27 page)

University of California, Irvine, campus

A
nnie sat at her favorite table at an outdoor café at the university center. She had loved college, every minute of it, and especially enjoyed sitting here at the café and people watching. She’d spent the summer waiting tables at an outdoor restaurant in her hometown of Laguna Beach, just down Coast Highway from the campus. Her face was dotted with freckles to prove it, her typically dark brunette hair streaked with some auburn highlights. She’d been jogging, too, and her newly toned body was something she was proud of, and she’d worn shorts and a tight-fitting T-shirt to show it off. Even her arms were tanned and toned, she knew.

She took a sip of her coffee, a bittersweet thought crossing her mind. She couldn’t believe she was already a senior, with only one more year of soaking up all she could about art history in her classes, and of course, partying. As the newly elected president of her sorority, Kappa Alpha Theta, she had a lot to do this semester for rush, and she was waiting for her vice president, and roommate Susan, to show up so they could get started.

“Hey, aren’t you Annie from
Laguna Nights
?” asked a young woman who approached Annie’s table with a big grin. Annie was accustomed to the question, of course, having spent two seasons, her junior and senior year of high school, as a cast member on the hit reality TV show. The show continued still, with a new group of kids from her high school, and the fan base kept growing exponentially.

At UCI, this year’s freshman class would be filled with a new crop of fans, Annie knew. Unlike some of her former cast mates, she liked the attention, liked her portrayal on the show and was thrilled she was able to pay for college with what she’d earned from the show. And, her past celebrity status was good for sorority recruitment, too.

Annie pushed her sunglasses up onto her head and smiled. “I am indeed.”

“I
love
that show. You were like the perfect friend on that show. Everybody liked you. Girls. Guys. Well, except Josh.”

Annie shared a laugh with her. She was right, Josh was the bad boy on their reality TV show and he’d hurt Annie’s best friend Madison, so Annie had treated him in the manner he’d deserved. “I was Annie from Laguna Nights. Now I’m just Annie at UCI,” Annie said, smiling warmly at the gorgeous blonde standing in front of her. “Are you a freshman?”

“I am. My name’s Sophie and I’m from Indiana. Everything is so different here,” she said, holding her arms out to encompass everything around her, and probably the whole Golden State. “I mean, we don’t have celebrities there.”

Annie had to be careful about rush rules, but she could ask one question. “Are you going to join a sorority?”

“Oh yes,” Sophie said. “I hope to be a Theta just like you.”

Good. “Well ok, I’ll see you around, you know we can’t talk about sorority stuff, rush rules,” Annie said with a wink.

“Yes, thanks, see you around,” Sophie said walking away as Annie’s friend Robin approached the table. Annie was so glad to see her, but Robin’s face was locked in a frown.

“What’s wrong?” Annie asked, standing to hug her tall friend. Robin was a beach volleyball player, a natural at the sport where her six-foot height was a bonus.

“I didn’t get all of my classes scheduled. I’ve got to go meet with my adviser, I’m sorry,” Robin said. “Can we meet later?”

“Sure, no problem,” Annie said. “I’ll just sit here and review the freshman class as they walk past me. I met a good rushee already!”

“No dirty rush,” Robin said, waving a long finger in Annie’s face. “Be good!”

Annie dropped back into her seat, contemplating another cup of coffee when a guy approached her table. He looked like he’d just rolled out of bed. He was cute, with shaggy brown hair and, Annie noticed, sleepy bright blue eyes. He smiled, revealing a dimple. “Hey, are you Annie? From that TV show?”

Wealthy business tycoon Blake Putnam isn’t looking for love, he just needs a date for a family wedding he’s dreading. Alpha male to the core, Blake’s idea of being a man leaves little room for emotional connection. He comes up with the perfect solution to the dreaded wedding: he’ll find a controllable date. He has everything planned to perfection.

Samantha Jones agrees to spend the weekend with the hot boss. She’s attracted to him, but she’s sworn off men after her embarrassing recent break up. She’s determined to ignore the attraction and focus on business when he hands her an opportunity to be part of the biggest business pitch in Blake Genetics’ history. It could change everything. She’s not looking for love, she won’t jump off that cliff again. But she will take the chance to further her career.

What neither of them expected was the weekend to take flight. Is this a risk they’re willing to see through to the end?

S
amantha punched the elevator button for the top floor. She’d never been to Mr. Putnam’s office but of course, she’d heard rumors about it, the starkness, the vast size. To be summoned for a meeting first thing Thursday morning made her heart race. After all, he was the boss, CEO of Blake Genetics, a genetics testing firm he’d founded after his college graduation that had become, in just 10 years, a dominant player worldwide. Blake Putnam was the man. Tall, built like Tom Brady with an athletic body that still looked good in the European suits he wore to the office every day. He was sexy, assertive, rich and very, very distant.

By contrast, Samantha felt plain, boring and unaccomplished. She’d just graduated college a year and a half before, and had worked for Blake Genetics since then. She examined her anxious expression in the reflection of the elevator walls and adjusted her simple black shift dress. Then she checked her long blonde hair anchored in a loose knot behind her back. Even though the offices were overly cool, she was perspiring and fanned herself with the white notepad in her hand as the elevator shot up to the top floor. The doors parted revealing an expansive white marble floor, with an impressively large white desk placed in the exact middle of the space. A severe, elegantly coiffed woman sat behind the desk and seemed to float in the room of white. Samantha shivered as sweat trickled down her back. She stepped off the elevator, which closed soundlessly behind her. The woman never looked up.

This was the infamous Marlene, Mr. Putnam’s personal assistant, who had summoned her. Samantha waited to be acknowledged. Rumors about Marlene’s power were whispered throughout the building. Samantha felt another spurt of panic shoot down her spine. Am I being fired? She stared at Marlene mutely. She couldn’t think of anything she’d done to warrant being fired, and she was almost certain they wouldn’t handle such things on the executive floor. Would they? Samantha tried to distract herself by noticing details— Marlene’s timeless face without a single wrinkle, her short, dark, edgy bob, her elegant, black pantsuit and tall stiletto heels that Samantha could barely look at without wincing. No way would she ever be able to walk in those. They looked more like weapons than shoes.

“Have a seat, Ms. Jones,” Marlene said without looking up. Samantha chose one of two white leather chairs with cold metal arms. She shivered, her bare arms exposed. Her feet began to feel numb inside her sensible black pumps. She wished they’d just fire her. The waiting was more torture than she’d imagined. Breathe, she told herself, and started doodling a daisy on her notepad. I’m drowning in a sea of quiet white, Samantha thought. No art. No plants. No sound. No smell. Nothing. After a ten-minute wait, spent staring at the wall in front of her while Marlene worked intently at her massive desk, Samantha was about to ask why she was here when Marlene finally spoke.

“Mr. Putnam will see you now.” Without moving from her seat, Marlene pushed a button and the stainless steel door to his office swung open. Samantha could almost hear the drum beat of doom, and she felt Marlene’s eyes on her back as she entered Mr. Putnam’s office. Mr. Putnam was seated behind a glass desk, and beyond him, was a glass wall with a commanding view of the city. As she entered, he remained seated and swiveled his chair, turning his back to her. Along the far wall of his office to her left was a large fish tank with spectacularly colored fish. The other two walls were floor to ceiling glass. The air smelled of success and ocean. Blake Putnam was on the phone. She turned around to leave, but the door had closed tightly behind her. Unsure what to do, Samantha stopped, frozen about five feet from his desk.

Breathe, she reminded herself, even as she started to get angry about the situation. Sure, he was the boss but ordering her to what she privately thought of as his lair and then turning his back on her without so much as a nod in her direction? She tried to keep the irritation off her face. He finished the call, swiveled his chair in her direction and waved her to the white leather chair in front of his desk. He wore a crisp white dress shirt and a black and navy striped tie, the blue matching the color of his deep blue eyes. His black suit jacket hung from the back of his black leather chair. Samantha hurried to the seat.

“Ms. Jones,” Mr. Putnam tilted back in his black leather chair, steepling his hands below his chin. Samantha could see his biceps push against his shirt, but forced her attention back on his words. She waited for him to explain why she was here, but he stared at her.

Samantha tried not to fidget. He continued to stare, and she wondered wildly what game was this? He could win tournaments in poker. World championships. What could he possibly be thinking? Maybe she should speak, but the longer the silence stretched, the fewer words jangled around in her brain.

“I’m impressed by how you handled the preliminary Daycon meetings. Even with all the friction over the increased rates and government regulation, you walked through all of the reasoning better than some of my more senior executives could have done, frankly,” Putnam said. Whatever she’d been expecting, it hadn’t been praise. Samantha sagged in relief. “You think well on your feet,” he said.

Samantha smiled. He liked her work. He had noticed her during the meeting. And he had the bluest eyes she’d ever seen.

“You’re smart, and you have a great grasp of Blake Genetics’ future.” He leaned forward. “I like your presentation skills. Exactly what I need for this upcoming weekend.” Basking in his praise, Samantha almost missed the last line. She leaned forward and pursed her lips in the shape of a W, but for once managed to still her question.

“I need an associate to attend a business meeting with me. We will finalize Monday’s Daycon pitch and review every aspect of the presentation.”

“Me? You?”

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