Pulse: Sport Romance (The Boys of Winter Book 6) (8 page)

T
he alarm clock
I used in high school lets out an annoying series of beeps, and I wake dreading my day, as if I have a chemistry test. I suppose it’s going to be just as painful as I go through the steps to transform from ski bum to CEO. I groan as I imagine what’s in store for me.

When I step out of the shower, the scent of coffee is faint, and I walk into my bedroom to find Nick sitting up in my bed, holding two mugs. His chest is bare, and my mind goes to places my body doesn’t have time to visit this morning. He says, “I miss waking up next to you.”

“Me too.” The plush down comforter is soft under my knees as I crawl over to him. “I have about one extra minute of time, and it’s all yours.” I straddle his lap and kiss him as he holds the two cups out to keep them from spilling their contents.

I break away too soon for my liking and take my drink. As I pad over to my dresser, I ask, “You sure you’re going to be okay with my mother today?”

“Of course. We’re the perfect pair. A retired woman and her daughter’s kept man.” He sips his coffee as I shoot him a glare and slither into my panties.

“Careful, in this town they’ll think you belong to her.”

“Huh, I thought that was a California thing.”

I step into a navy linen dress and pull it up my arms. “Nope, it’s a rich woman thing.”

Nick gets out of the bed and walks over to me. I turn my back to him and lift my hair for him to zip me. He says, “Then I’d better stick around so you won’t need a boy toy to keep you entertained.” He kisses the back of my neck, and the warmth of his lips on my skin makes me sigh.

“Plan on it.” I walk to the bathroom and call out, “Can you find a pair of navy shoes in my closet for me please?”

His voice is muffled as he asks, “Heels or flats?”

“Flats.” My comb slides through my wet locks, and I stare at my makeup-free face. The text I got late last night said my first appointment was hair and a facial. I’m sure by the end of today, plain-looking Megan will become something elegant and perfectly coiffed. I leave my hair wet and return to the bedroom to check the time. Five minutes.

Leather is cool in my hand as I grab the purse I filled last night with essentials, including a toothbrush. Taking my coffee with me, I walk over to Nick, who’s back in my bed, making me long for my old life. I give him a quick kiss. “I’ll text you the update on my transformation.”

He grins. “I want selfies. Lots and lots of selfies.”

I chuckle as I leave him and tap my way down the stairs. A man in a black suit is standing by the front door, and his voice surprises me with its deep tone when he speaks quietly. “Miss Donavan.”

I grin. “Reggie.” Bandaged knees and plaid school uniforms come to mind as I hug the man who drove Alex and me to school.

He opens the door for me, and I say, “It’s so wonderful to see you again.”

The air is cold when I get outside, and I pull my sweater tightly shut and slide over the slippery leather seat in the back of a town car.

When Reggie gets in the front, he turns to show me the controls I can access. He points to a cup holder. “If you tell me how you like your coffee, I’ll have it waiting for you each morning.”

While town cars and Reggie aren’t new to me, being catered to at this level is. I realize what I do today sets the tone for my adult relationship with Reggie, and I smile up at him, knowing I’m going to need him to care for me in the stressful days to come. “I like it with a splash of cream, please. And name brands aren’t necessary. I’m a what’s-on-sale coffee drinker.”

He smiles and says, “Me too. It’s nice to have you back, Megan.” Reggie reaches over to the passenger seat beside him to grab a folder. “Lydia gave me this for you to review on the way in.”

I settle back in my seat, and the lights of the car guide us through the dark as we drive toward the main road. Paper rustles as I skim the sheets. I shake my head as I wonder if I’m preparing for a beauty pageant instead of a position of leadership. Hair, eyebrows, facial, makeup lessons, personal shopper meeting. It isn’t until mid-afternoon that I work on real business, when I meet with the IT specialist to get my computer.

I text Nick a picture of my schedule.
I am a show dog.

Within seconds, I get the image of him lying in my bed.
I’m a lap dog.

I trace his face, and the glass of my screen is smooth under my finger. My phone clicks as I turn it off to study the information about my meetings that start Monday.

By noon, I’m a shiny version of a business woman. With blonder hair that’s cut in an easy-to-style bob, artistically arched eyebrows, and manicured nails, I’m ready for lunch with my sister and a wardrobe review.

I gaze out the floor-to-ceiling window of my office that is so many stories up above the city, one could get a nosebleed. The cars below appear to be driving along a chaotic board game as ant-sized people swarm by on either side. Krissy, the receptionist, buzzes me. I turn to push a button. “Yes?”

“Alex Donovan’s here.”

“Thanks. Send her in.” I shake my head at the absurdity of my situation. A week ago, I was on my hands and knees, helping a woman step into her ski binding, and now I have an array of staff buffering me from the world.

Alex halts in the doorway in a dramatic pose that draws the eye to her feet. She says, “New Choos. What do you think?”

I frown at her. “I think you’ll break your ankle in those. How do you walk?”

“Carefully.” She saunters over and walks past my desk. My office is as big as my old apartment, and I could easily live here. I have a luxury bathroom, a small exercise setup my mother graciously left, and a sitting area with two leather sofas and a large chair. Alex drops to a couch, and her shoes thud as she kicks them off to sprawl out. She says, “Love the hair.”

I walk over to sit across from her. “Thanks. What are your plans this afternoon?”

“Nothing after lunch with you, but I have a million things I should do. Why?”

“Want to help me pick my new clothes?” I pluck at the lap of my dress. “I feel hopelessly dated with my current taste.”

Alex glances down at a fingernail and pushes at a cuticle. “Because you are. Admit it, you need me.”

I frown. “Will you help?”

She tilts her head at me in suspicion. “You’re giving me a chance to tell you what to do? Of course.”

The phone located by my sofa buzzes, and I watch Alex as I push the intercom and say, “Yes?”

“Lunch is here. Shall I bring it in?”

“Yes. Please.”

I say to Alex, “I love that.”

Alex grins at me. “Having people wait on you never gets old.”

Krissy brings us a tray with two salads in clear glass bowls and sparkling water as if we’re in a restaurant. She sets it on the table between us and asks, “Is there anything else?”

Alex says, “When Lawrence arrives, we’ll both need coffees.”

“I’ll take care of it, Miss Donovan.” She turns to me.

I say, “That’s all. Thank you, Krissy.” When she leaves, I drape my lap with a cloth napkin, and silverware clinks as I take my lunch from the tray.

Alex asks, “How are you handling this so far?”

I’ve just placed a thinly sliced pear in my mouth, and I let out a moan of delight as the sweet flavor coats my tongue. I’m sure I won’t be craving my usual meal of leftovers for some time. After I swallow, I say, “It doesn’t suck.”

My sister gazes at me over her glass. “No, it definitely doesn’t.”

W
hile I can’t wait
to get the layer of foundation off my face, I do like what I see in the mirror. My afternoon with Lawrence, my personal stylist, was exhausting. Rolling racks of clothes were wheeled into my office, and a seamstress was on hand to pin each outfit deemed appropriate. At first I thought I had a say, but it quickly became evident Alex and Lawrence had other ideas. I gave up and let them work their magic.

I fight the urge to scratch my nose and contort my face in an attempt to wiggle the itch away. The makeup lesson I just had was not enjoyable. Apparently my skin has ruddy tones that need smoothing out, and don’t even get me started on how I’m supposed to give my face an angular look to mimic Angelina Jolie. I am not excited about my fifteen-minute routine every morning so I can be a Bellae face.

Water rushes in the sink as I wash my hands. My mother’s aroma, also known as Bellae, the signature scent, is present in this room. I discovered earlier it’s in the soap.
Looking over my shoulder, Mom?
At least she’ll be pleased to see the new me when I get home tonight.

When I exit the bathroom, a smartly dressed older woman is waiting for me. I’m startled that someone is in my office. She says, “Hello, Megan. I’m Lydia.”

Ah. I wondered when I’d meet the woman who will keep me in line. “Hello, Lydia. It’s nice to meet you.”

“My apologies for not being with you earlier. But rest assured I’m about to become glued to your side.” Her voice is raspy and deep like a smoker, but I can’t imagine that sort of behavior would fly for a Bellae employee, so she must be reformed.

I smile at her and hope she’s joking. I wouldn’t even want Nick to be stuck to me twenty-four, seven. “Wonderful. Are you joining me for my IT session?”

“I am. I hope you give me the chance to prove myself before you seek out another assistant. I know this company almost as well as your mother did and think I’m a valuable asset to Bellae.”

Like I have a clue who to hire or what I’m doing?
Lydia mustn’t know how much I need her. But I channel my mother and speak with confidence. “My mother had nothing but praise for you. I welcome your expertise.”

“Wonderful. We’re due in a few minutes, so let me lead the way.”

Our heels click on the shiny hallway floor in a way that reminds me of nights out with the girls to go dancing. By the end of the evening, I was ready to take them off for weeks until we went again. My feet are never going to last doing this every day. I’ll have to bring sneakers to work with me to wear when nobody’s watching.

My afternoon consists of getting a laptop, upgrading my phone, and learning about the wonderful synching applications so I can work from any device and have access to everything. I did my best not to gawk or say “Cool!” but I’ve been out of the technological loop long enough that so much is new.

As Lydia and I walk back to my office, she asks, “What would you like for dinner?”

Crap.
I thought I was done and could have it at home with Nick.
My schedule for today does say briefing for this week’s meetings was next, and I had hoped that wouldn’t take too long. “Gosh, I’m not sure what I’m hungry for. How long will our discussions take?”

“We should be done by nine.”

Nine!
Double crap. I regain the poise I let slip and ask, “How about sushi?”

“Lovely, I’ll have it ready for you in an hour. Right now you need to meet with manufacturing and distribution. Andrew will be up to get you in ten minutes.”

We’ve reached my office, and the metal door handle is cool in my palm as I hold onto it to say goodbye to Lydia. “Thanks. I’ll go freshen up and be ready for him.”

The moment I’m in my office, I remove my shoes and welcome the soft carpet as it sinks under my feet while I pad over to the bathroom. I grab my phone from my desk and call Nick. Even though a text would suffice, I’d like to hear his voice.

The familiar tone washes over me like a balm for my mood when he says, “Hey.”

“Hey. How was your day?”

“Nice. Your mom took me on a tour of the town, we had lunch at the club, and I got a job.”

I lie back on my sofa and lift my swollen feet up to rest on the arm of it. “You did? What is it?”

“Well, even though I don’t know how to sail, I’m teaching beginner sailing to kids.”

I imagine Nick with small children following him like the Pied Piper. “Excellent. You can learn right along with them.”

“That’s what Gracie said.”

I sit up. “Gracie? Gracie Whitman?”

“That’s the one. She said she knew you.”

“Yeah.” She was the girl who spent her summers trying to steal everyone’s boyfriend. I traded Stacy in for Gracie. I bite my lip to keep from saying something nasty. “So is she running the sailing lessons?”

“She’s the general manager of the waterfront.” Nick speaks at a secretive level. “But I think she’s looking for a husband.”

I bet. “Really? Is she making moves on my guy?”

He chuckles. “Nope, I made it clear I don’t have a cent to my name, and that you’re my bankroll. Stopped her flirting in a snap.”

My phone buzzes, and I lift it off my face to see why. I have an alert telling me I have a meeting with Andrew Davenport. I recognize the name and wonder if I’m about to see my old boyfriend. “Hey. I’ve got to go. I have a meeting in a couple minutes. I was calling to tell you I won’t be home until late. I’m booked until nine.”

“You poor thing. If I’m not downstairs, sneak into my room. I’ll be the naked guy under the covers.”

That vision puts a smile on my face. “Will do. Love you.”

“Love you, too.”

Just as I sit up, Krissy buzzes me to say Andrew is here. I reply, “Hold him for a minute, and I’ll be right out.”

I race to the bathroom, and the bristles of my makeup brush are silky-soft as I dab powder on my shiny face. I add a quick swipe of lipstick. This Bellae woman stuff is no joke. Of course, when you’re about to reconnect with an old boyfriend you never forgot, taking a moment to collect yourself for a good first impression matters too.

I slip my protesting feet into my heels and grab my phone to walk to the door. A text vibrates, and I glance quickly to find a picture of Nick with a captain’s hat on, and not much else. I’m grinning when I open the door to the expectant face of Drew, my college boyfriend who was the only other guy to have my heart.

“Drew. I was hoping it was you.”

He’s gone from hot college boy to handsome man, and I resist the urge to touch my lips in memory of what we had. Drew doesn’t hide his approval of how I look as his eyes scan my body. He clears his throat. “Wow, Megan Donovan. You grew up.” He leans forward to kiss my cheek with an almost imperceptible touch that won’t smear makeup.
He’s good.

I pull out my charm and give him the once-over with my eyes too. He looks sharp in a tailored suit and expensive shoes. “And so did you.” His cologne is light and sporty and takes me back to summer nights sailing that ended with us cuddling on the deck of his Hinckley to gaze at the stars. “Shall we?”

Drew offers me his arm, and I take it as we make our way to the conference room that has been prepared for us.

When we get inside the room, I notice a screen and laptop projector have been set up. Drew says, “I’ll walk you through the process, but it would be best if you toured the facilities. Especially the European ones, since you’re familiar with the ones here in the States. As you can imagine, relationships are everything.”

I nod. “I’ll check with Lydia to see when I’m free.”

“Fantastic. We can probably get them arranged to happen in within a week.” A chair scrapes on the floor as he pulls it out for me to sit.

I gaze up at him. “A whirlwind tour.”

“Exactly. Just like old times.”

His smile is sexy, and his flirting tone isn’t lost on me. I smile back. “Just like old times.”