One Night Standards (14 page)

“Don't you worry,” her mother said. “We'll show them.”

“Sophie, I wanted to go over our closing argument one last time,” Lydia said. “We're off to grab a coffee, Mom. Can I get you anything?”

“Do I look like I need caffeine?” her mother said, then stalked back to her laboratory. “You two go on. I know how you are about your coffee breaks.”

“I will be glad when all this is over, no matter what happens,” Lydia said as they walked to her car. “Because Mom gets more frantic and more desperate every day, have you noticed? It's starting to really worry me.”

Sophie nodded, feeling weary right down to her bones. “I'll be glad when it's over, too,” she admitted.

Unbidden, Mark's face popped up in her mind.

Just a hope of a chance…

She shook her head, clearing it. She wouldn't think about Mark. She told herself that hourly…sometimes every other minute. And every time she told herself that, it didn't work.

“I was talking to that vendor, and I think we've managed to fix that problem of getting supplies in high quantity, so Trimera can't hit us with it anymore,” Lydia said, as they sat down at their usual table at the local coffeehouse. “But when I was talking to her, I heard something sort of weird.”

“Oh?” Sophie asked, not actually listening. She sipped at her mocha.

“Yeah.” Lydia peered into Sophie's face. “She said you're sleeping with Mark McMann.”

Sophie choked. Lydia handed her a napkin and patted her back.

“I take it that's a yes,” Lydia said wryly. “Jeez, Sophie. And you make fun of me for not being your consummate professional. Last time I checked, boinking the competition wasn't something they taught in an MBA program.”

Sophie gasped for air. “It wasn't like that,” she finally sputtered out.

Lydia's eyes rolled. “You can't possibly tell me you've got a good explanation for sleeping with him.”

“Well…no.” Sophie stared at the table surface. “But it always made sense at the time.”

“He is gorgeous…and charming.” Lydia looked at her, her face filled with concern. “He seduced you, didn't he?”

“No!” She remembered that first night they'd almost slept together—how he'd persuaded her, working against her better judgment. “Not exactly.”

“Riiiight,” Lydia drawled, obviously unconvinced.

“I even seduced him,” Sophie added, trying to be fair. “I made the decision, every time. It was my idea.”

“Con artists always make you think it was your idea,” Lydia said sternly. “Good grief. You're the one who always tells me that Trimera can't be trusted and that big-business types will do whatever they have to, to win. Didn't you think about that when you decided to sleep with him?”

“He didn't use me,” Sophie defended. “And before you go there—I never, ever told him anything about Diva Nation. It was never about the competition.”

“How could you think it wouldn't get mixed up in it?” Lydia's voice was edged with exasperation. “I'm a creative type, and even
I
know that one.”

Sophie felt her throat close, this time with tears. “Listen, I don't have any excuse for it. It happened.”

“You're not the type for casual affairs.” Lydia sounded baffled.

“I know,” Sophie agreed.

Lydia was silent for a long moment. Then she said, “And this isn't a casual affair, is it?”

Sophie slumped in her chair. “No.”

“Are you in love with him?”

“I don't know.” As soon as Sophie said it, the truth of the matter seemed to burn in her chest. “Yes. I am in love with him. And I don't know how, or what we're going to do next.”

Lydia paused. “I have to hand it to you—you never take the easy road. So, do you think he's in love with you?”

“I don't know. But he cares about me.”

“Enough to walk away from this competition?”

Sophie shook her head. “I wouldn't ask him to, Lydia. That wouldn't be fair. I mean, what would you think if he asked that of me?”

“Which brings up my next question—did it ever occur to you to walk away from this competition for him?”

Sophie felt scandalized. “This is too important, Lydia.”

“It's business, Sophie,” Lydia countered.

“It's Mom's life,” Sophie said. “She's counting on us.”

“I love Mom, and I've spent most of my life trying to live up to her expectations…and failing miserably,” Lydia answered, smirking. “I've worked my hardest for her, but we can't control everything. She's not going to be out on the street, no matter what. I wouldn't let her, and neither would you. So if we don't win this account…she'll be upset, and it'll be harder, but it won't be the end of the world, Sophie.”

Sophie shook her head. “That's no way to win.”

“Being inflexible is no way to live,” Lydia said. “And I'm not saying we should lose just because you fell in love.”

“Then what
are
you saying?” Sophie snapped.

Lydia reached over and took her hands. “I'm saying…don't be a butt-head.”

Surprised, Sophie actually laughed.

“Mom was burned by love and business—getting fired by Trimera, and having Dad leave us. She's got a lot wrapped up in all this. But just because she's bitter about what happened, and convinced that winning might make everything right, doesn't mean that you have to follow in her footsteps,” Lydia explained.

Sophie thought about it. “If we lose, it won't be because I didn't try,” Sophie said.

“Nobody's telling you to throw the challenge,” Lydia said. “But if we lose…nobody's telling you that you've got to punish the guy because we didn't make it.”

“For a kid sister,” Sophie said weakly, “you're pretty wise.”

“Yeah, well, I'm starting to realize that I was getting sucked up in the need to win,” Lydia said. “I love Mom, but sometimes you start to live in her world…where winning is the only option. Trust me, she'll be okay if this doesn't go through. And loving her and wanting to help her doesn't mean that we have to put our whole lives into chaos because she needs us to. That sounds cold, I know.”

Sophie sighed. “It's tough, though.”

“After this, no matter what, I'm opening my own design consulting company,” Lydia said. “I love Mom, but I can't keep working with her. It'll save the relationship for both of us.”

Sophie smiled at her, feeling weepy. “I'll help you with your business plan,” she offered.

“Thanks, I'll need it.” Lydia smiled back. “And after this, no matter what…if you're in love with this guy, I say go for it. Even if it pisses Mom off no end. You're not in high school anymore.”

Sophie thought about it. Her mom and the business meant a lot to her—but Lydia was right. It wasn't her life.

“And, we may win,” Lydia added, with a wink. “Which brings up the question—will he still love you if he loses to you?”

Sophie closed her eyes. “I'll jump off that bridge when I come to it.”

M
ARK SAT IN A CONFERENCE ROOM
in Marion & Co.'s New York corporate offices. Simone and Roger were out in the lobby, Simone on her laptop, Roger barking at someone on his cell phone. They had already made their sales pitch to Mrs. Marion, privately—apparently her “open competition” finally had some privacy, probably because she had the instincts of a horse trader: if one company
thought
their opponents were giving a better deal, they'd just keep going lower and lower until Marion & Co. had everything they wanted for a song. He had to admire the woman's shrewdness. After all, it was what had made her family's company such a force to be reckoned with, all these years.

Sophie sat in a corner with her mother and sister. Her mother was shooting poisonous glances in his direction. The sister was more intent on Sophie, who wasn't looking at him at all. They had already had their turn with Marion & Co., as well, and everyone was waiting for the final announcement as far as who'd won the account. It was overly dramatic, probably the most over-the-top competition Mark had ever been involved in. He wouldn't have minded so much, if it didn't put Sophie and himself in such an awful position.

The sister finally looked at him, a curious, measured gaze. Mark wasn't quite sure what to make of it—it wasn't a come-on or anything sexual, more of a sizing up. Then the sister turned to Sophie's mom. “Come on, let's go get some air.”

“I don't want any air,” the mother snapped.

“We'll make it short,” the sister said persuasively, tugging her mom to her feet. “If you stay here and review every detail of our offer, you'll drive Sophie nuts. Come on, the walk will do you good. Sophie, you'll be all right, here?”

“Sure,” Sophie said, and with that, the two other women walked out the door, leaving Sophie alone with Mark. Mark could've sworn he saw the sister shoot him one more meaningful look, followed by one at Sophie. She did everything but nod her head at Sophie.

Go talk to her, idiot,
the expression seemed to say.

“Sophie,” Mark said, approaching her cautiously. “I've missed you.”

He hadn't meant to open with that, but it was true, so he left it alone. She didn't look at him. “I miss you, too,” she replied, staring at her organizer as if it had the secrets of the universe written in it.

“At least it'll all be over today,” Mark said. “Then…no matter what happens, it'll be behind us. We can start over.”

“I'd like that,” Sophie said. “But…Mark, I never did tell you why this is so important to me, did I?”

Mark shrugged, feeling prickles of unease start to creep across his nerve endings. “You're a talented, driven, successful businesswoman,” he said. “And I know this is a family business, and a start-up. Of course you'll want to do well.”

“My father left my mother a few years before Trimera fired her,” Sophie said, and Mark felt ice form in the pit of his stomach. “He'd cleaned out most of her accounts and run up her credit cards. She had to clear out her retirement account to stave off bankruptcy.”

“I'm sorry,” Mark said inanely, sensing where this was going.

“Then Trimera dumped her before she could even start to build back what she'd lost,” Sophie continued.

Mark sighed. “That's terrible,” he said. “But…Sophie, layoffs happen. It wasn't personal.”

Now Sophie looked at him, her eyes wide and hurt. “It is to the person who gets fired, Mark.”

He felt like a worm. “That wasn't what I meant. You know it wasn't.”

“That's been our problem,” Sophie said, standing and pacing. “I thought that business wasn't personal. I thought we could be one thing in the conference room and another in the bedroom. But it all blends together, Mark.” She stood in front of him, crossing her arms. “If we don't get this account, I don't know how we're going to replenish my mom's retirement fund. A lot is riding on the success of this business. And it's not about pride, or being successful. It's more personal than that.”

Mark swallowed hard. “I'm not just…” He stopped. “All right. Pride does have a lot to do with why I'm doing this. But damn it, it's also my job, Sophie. I can't ignore doing my job because I feel sorry for your mom.”

“I'm not asking you to,” Sophie retorted. “But I am trying to tell you that this isn't cut and dried.” She took a deep breath. “I want to be with you. You have to know that. But…people are going to get hurt. No matter what the outcome of the business side is, you can't tell me that there won't be consequences.”

“We've been over this,” Mark said, suddenly not caring that Simone was a few feet outside the door, that Roger was pacing nearby in the hall. “You know what? I hope we don't get the account. I hope that you and your family get exactly what they want. Because I think I'm in love with you, Sophie. And that's worth a hell of a lot more than a stupid promotion.”

Sophie's eyes widened and her lip trembled.

Mark couldn't help himself. He leaned down and kissed her sweet, mobile mouth the way he'd been dreaming of since the last time he'd held her in his arms. She kissed him back, softly at first, then with increasingly more abandon. Her hands clutched at his shoulders, and he pulled her to him tightly.

“Mark,” she breathed as she pulled away. “I think…”

Before she could finish her sentence, the door opened.

“We're back…” the sister said, before stopping short. Her mouth dropped open in a little
O
of surprise.

“Lydia, don't stop in a doorway like that,” her mother said irritably, stepping around her. She stopped, too, when she took in the sight in front of her: Mark and Sophie, arms around each other, obviously too close to be anything but intimate. “Sophie, what the hell are you doing?”

Sophie took a step away from Mark, her cheeks reddening. “Mom, let me explain….”

“You can't tell me you have an explanation for this!”

“Mrs. Jones, it isn't what you think,” Mark interrupted.

The woman turned on him with all the fury of a volcano. She stood in front of him, eyes snapping, so similar to Sophie's, but filled with more anger and bitterness. “I know about you, Mr. McMann,” she said. “You make a practice of sleeping with competitors, distributors…anybody you need. And I thought my own daughter was smarter than this, damn it, but I guess with your good looks even she couldn't turn you down.” The look of contempt she sent over to Sophie was withering.

“That's not true,” Mark said bluntly. Before he could continue, Roger and Simone walked in. “We'll discuss this later.”

“There's nothing to discuss.” Sophie's mom looked ready to punch someone. “I knew Trimera would stop at nothing to screw me over.”

“Now, now, no need to get so personal,” Roger said, his tone aghast.

“You don't even know the beginning of the term
personal,
” Mrs. Jones answered. “You people would need to be
human
first, to understand how something could be
personal!
”

“Mom,” Sophie said, trying to quiet her. Lydia, the sister, looked horrified.

Mrs. Marion and Lily walked into the middle of this circus. Mrs. Marion watched with curiosity, but no alarm. Lily looked a little freaked out by the drama unfolding in front of them.

“If I'm not interrupting,” Mrs. Marion said with an edge of sarcasm, causing all the turmoil to disappear momentarily. “I would like to say that, while it's not quite final, we've made a decision.”

The room went tomb silent in a nanosecond. Every person listened eagerly. Mark felt his stomach clench.

God as my witness, I have no idea which way I want this to go.

“I have to tell you, it was a very difficult decision,” Mrs. Marion said, obviously relishing drawing out the suspense. She was a born showman. Or show-woman. “Diva Nation obviously has the most innovative and creative product, with quality that is second to none. But Trimera…well, the concessions offered were far too sweet to be ignored.”

Mark looked over at the Diva Nation team. Sophie didn't look surprised. Her mother looked venomous.

“So, while it's not quite final…we will be drawing up paperwork to start a partnership with Trimera.”

Mark shut his eyes, ignoring the clap on his shoulder and Roger's quick word of congratulations, or Simone's gloating little smile. He was about to get everything he'd struggled for years to get. He was finally being taken seriously.

When he opened his eyes, he saw Sophie, looking devastated, next to her mother and her sister.

“I'd like to thank both teams for participating in our challenges….”

Mrs. Marion made her polite speech, but it was obvious that no one was listening. When she drew to a close and walked out, Sophie's mother approached Mark and his team.

“I hope you're happy,” she spat out, then turned and stalked out, her daughters following her.

“Jeez,” Roger said. “Some people should not be in business. I wonder if we fired her because of her temper?”

“No, we fired her because she was too old,” Simone corrected. “At least, we thought she was.”

Mark rubbed his hands over his face. “We could be sued for talk like that,” he said. “We
should
be sued, if that's what we fired her for.”

“Now, now, let's not say the s-word,” Roger said, laughing. “Besides, why are you taking that nutcase's side, anyway? We won, they lost, that's life in the big city.”

“It was just business,” Mark said, his tone slightly mocking.

“Exactly.” Roger sounded relieved. “Well, the account's yours, Mark. Keep handling it this well, and in the next year or so, you
will
need to order new business cards!”

Roger laughed as the three of them exited the conference room. Simone tapped Mark on the shoulder. “I told you to cool it with Sophie,” she said. “But I guess it all worked out. You landed the account, you'll get the promotion, and it looks like from here on, you've got nothing to worry about.”

“What makes you say that?” From what Mark could see, worries were all he had on his horizon.

Simone's laugh was mocking. “Because nobody'll ever find out you were involved with the enemy. I don't think you'll ever hear from Sophie Jones or Diva Nation again if your life depended on it.”

S
OPHIE FELT DISEMBODIED
, as if the whole thing were a dream. The three of them, Lydia, Sophie and their mother, were sitting in the back of a cab, heading at a breakneck pace to their hotel. Lydia sat in between them, trying to act as a buffer. Sophie's mother kept looking down at her purse, as if that accessory somehow held the answers to what had just happened to her. She refused to speak to either of her daughters, despite their best efforts.

“I never told Mark anything about Diva Nation,” Sophie said, hoping to pierce through her mother's wall of sadness. “Whatever else happened, we didn't lose because of my…involvement with him.”

Her mother looked at her once, a mournful look, but didn't say anything.

Sophie's anger warred with the guilt that was threatening to suffocate her. “Mom, it's not over yet. And we didn't lose the account because I was sleeping with Mark McMann!”

“No,
we
didn't lose the account,” her mother finally said, as the cab stopped in front of their hotel. “
You
lost the account, Sophie.”

Sophie felt the rebuke like a slap. Lydia paid the cabbie, and Sophie followed her mother at a run. Her mother pounded the elevator button then crossed her arms.

“It wasn't the greatest idea,” Lydia interjected, “but it wasn't her fault, Mom. It was one of those things.”

“One of those things?” their mother asked, bewildered. “Just ‘one of those things' is a run in your stocking. This was deliberate stupidity.”

“Mom,” Sophie protested.

“You would take her side, Lydia,” her mother continued. “I swear, sometimes I don't know what happened to either of you. I certainly didn't raise you this way.” She glowered. “It must be your father. He was selfish, too.”

“Hey, whoa, wait a minute,” Lydia said, putting her hands up. “I wasn't screwing the competition, here.”

“Lydia!”

“Sorry, Sophie,” Lydia added. “You know what I meant.”

Sophie felt like tearing out her hair in frustration. When the three of them were in the elevator, she repeated, in a soft voice, “Mom, what happened with Mark really didn't have anything to do with it.”

“You honestly believe that, don't you?” Her mother shook her head. “You think that being infatuated with the man you're competing against didn't make you lose your edge? They play dirty over there, and I needed you to be just as tough as they were.” She paused, looking at Sophie with derision. “They must have seen you coming a mile away.”