Read The Unblocked Collection Online
Authors: Marni Mann
She paused. “Let me see if I’m free.” Relief showed in her flushed face and in the upper half of her body. She probably had no idea how much a relentless pounding could do for her tension level. She couldn’t have known—she was too tightly wound. Whoever she had been with was either an amateur or a lazy fucker who only thought about himself. I’d change that, show her what it was like to be with someone who worshipped every inch of her, who’d do anything to please her and give her pleasure she didn’t know was possible.
She stared at her phone. “I can’t tomorrow. There’s an industry party I must attend.” She glanced up. “Are you going?”
“I don’t keep up with events like that.” I’d been a successful developer without having to attend those ass-kissing cocktail parties.
“I’m free the night after. Will that work for you?”
“Fine.” I didn’t even glance at my schedule. Whatever was on it, I’d have Will cancel.
She stood. “So I’ll see you in a few days—or nights, I mean.” Her face flushed a deeper shade of red. I liked getting that reaction from her.
“You will.”
“Thanks for breakfast.”
I nodded and turned my attention to my computer screen, not that anything on it mattered, I just didn’t trust what would happen if I kept holding her gaze. I listened to her slip her bag over her shoulder, weave around the chair, and move toward the door before I braved another look. Today’s ensemble was a pair of gray pants with pockets that framed her impeccable, heart-shaped ass. I shook my head at its perfection.
“Now that Frankie’s gone,” Will said through my intercom, “are you free to take a call?”
“Depends. Who is it?”
“Julia.”
I highlighted all the new emails and deleted them. At least two were from her as well. I had no idea how she’d gotten my contact information. I was unlisted, and Will certainly wouldn’t have given it to her. And to minimize our contact, I had given her one of Will’s business cards instead of mine. Otherwise, she’d have my cell number, too.
“She’s called seven times in the last hour,” he said. “Maybe if you talk to her, she’ll give us a break and I’ll actually be able to get some work done.”
Until the contract was signed, I didn’t want to tell Julia—or anyone—that Frankie had the exclusive, even if that meant the nagging would continue. She was persistent; I had to give her that. “Send Frankie’s contract to my attorney,” I said. “Tell him I want the documents reviewed no later than tomorrow, the details outlined, terms defined. I want everything wrapped up in the next few days.”
“Done. What about Julia?”
“Send her through.”
There was a click, followed by a beep that signaled the call had been connected. “This is Derek.”
“You’re a hard man to reach.”
I was actually glad to hear that. “What can I do for you, Julia?”
“Since you asked so nicely, I’d like to invite you to a party tomorrow night.”
“Which one?”
“The Brokers Ball. It’s an industry party that…” I stopped listening. That was the same one Frankie was attending. If Julia was able to invite a guest, then Frankie was too. I wondered who she was bringing as her date. “…and I’d like to introduce you to the executives around town so we can—”
“Sounds like a good time.”
“Fantastic. I’ll rent us a limo and call you with all the details.”
“Email them to Will. He’ll brief me on whatever I need to know.”
I knew it would be good for business to introduce myself and connect with the people who ran Boston’s market. I also knew I wasn’t going to the party for that.
I had to see her.
I had to be inside her…that’s
all
this was about. Once I had her, I would get her out of my head, even if that happened to be months from now.
I clenched my fingers around a pad of paint samples and squeezed them into my palm. The sheets fanned like a deck of cards.
What the fuck was happening to me?
FRANKIE
“I HAVE
the Brokers Ball tomorrow,” I said to Brea. “I have nothing to wear and no date.”
I collapsed into the chair behind my desk, my fall giving the wheels enough momentum to roll backward. The leather banged into the window ledge. “Can we find a way to cancel? I can fake a hangover…or maybe I’ll cause a real one.”
The ball had been on my calendar for months. Brea had received the invitation in the mail and had blocked off the time on my schedule. I knew it was coming, I’d just chosen to ignore it, in hopes that it would go away. For the past two years, I’d gone with Reed. Now he’d probably be going with someone gorgeous, which made the no-dress, no-date situation feel even worse.
“You’re not canceling,” Brea said firmly. “You’re going, and you have something to wear.” She rushed out of my office and returned with a rolling rack of dresses.
“Where did you get those?”
“One of my friends from college is a designer. Her line just got picked up by Nordstrom. Anyway, I knew you’d want to wear something new, and you haven’t had time to shop so I gave her a call.”
“You…are…”
“Amazing. I know. And I’m not even close to being done.”
“You mean there’s more? Besides these dresses?”
“Patience, Ms. Jordan. One dazzling surprise at a time.” She walked over to me, her hands outstretched, lifting me out of the chair. “Come pick one so I can return the others.”
I glanced at the large clock that hung on my office wall. “Do I have time before my next meeting to shop for a purse and heels to match?”
“You won’t have to.” She left me next to the rack, wheeled over a metal trunk, and opened it. It was full of boxes and cloth bags. “They’ve come to you!”
I wasn’t used to being emotional at work. When my father lashed out at me verbally, I saved the tears for when I got home. But Brea’s generosity made it difficult to hold them in. She’d been my assistant when my relationship with Reed had taken a dangerous turn, so she knew what I had gone through and how long it had taken me to recover—if that’s what this state could even be called.
“Thank you.”
She chose a dress from the middle of the rack and took off the plastic dry cleaner bag. “You didn’t deserve what happened to you.”
I nodded. “I know.”
“And I know how hard tomorrow night is going to be, so I tried to make it a little easier on you.”
“You did.” I patted the corners of my eyes. “More than you know.”
“You would have done the same for me.” She held the dress against my body. “Now no more tears. You just landed the biggest contract of your career, and
this
is the dress you’re going to be wearing to the party.”
I swallowed the knot in my throat and glanced at the window across from me. “This one?” I turned, checking out my reflection. It really was a sexy dress—black, fitted, the hem falling just above my knee, and the neckline cut low enough so I would have the perfect amount of cleavage. I hoped it would make me feel the same way Derek’s eyes did. “I think you might be right.”
“I
am
right.” She smiled and winked. “And I have the hottest red heels and bag to go with it.”
I twirled the dress so I could see the back. “Too bad your friend didn’t supply a handsome man to go along with it. I could really use a date.”
“About that…don’t be mad, okay?”
I lowered the dress so I could see her face. “Brea, what did you do?”
“Don’t read too much into it…he’s just one of the junior brokers. I figured it would be good for him to meet some of the industry executives—nothing more. So I asked him.”
“You asked him to be
my date
?”
She scrunched her nose like she smelled something awful. That was her guilty face. “He knows this is just for work. I made that
very
clear.”
My father wasn’t attending this year; his trip to Croatia had been booked for the same time, so he’d asked me to represent the company. If he found out I was going with an employee—and a subordinate, no less—he wouldn’t be pleased. That didn’t matter. With Reed in attendance, there was absolutely no way I was going without a date. And thanks to Brea securing me one, I wouldn’t have to.
“Is he cute, at least?” I asked.
She lifted the red shoes and bag out of the trunk and placed them on top of my desk. “Cute? No. He’s
haaaaawt
. Not as hot as Derek, of course, but damn close.” The sound of his name startled me. Brea noticed, and she smiled. “I realize I was four glasses deep at that restaurant, but the way he was looking at you…whoa! Not just looking, he was flirting, too.
Hardcore
flirting.”
She was right—the look, the subtle flirting; I’d felt both. But because Derek was about to be one of our clients, I wasn’t ready to admit that out loud, or express to her how either of them made me feel. “He was just being friendly.”
“Oh,
hell
no—that was
way
more than friendly.” She took the dress out of my hand and held it up to the shoes and purse. Satisfied with the outfit, she bagged all the items together and hung them back on the rack. “If you don’t think he’s interested in you, you’re crazy.”
“He’s my boss…or partner…or client…whatever, and we’re going to be working together for a while. Closely together.”
“So you’re saying he uses those sexy bedroom eyes on every woman? I don’t think so. Julia and I didn’t even exist when you were standing in front of him.”
I leaned against the edge of my desk. Aside from the way he made me feel, and the flurry of emotions he stirred, there was a bigger issue here and that was something I couldn’t hide from Brea. “I know it’s been a year, but I still don’t think I’m ready for something that heavy.” I had made Anna a promise to open myself up to the possibility of dating, I just didn’t know if I could follow through with it.
“Then don’t go heavy,” she said. “Stay light and keep things simple, like ‘sex-only’ simple. With those broad shoulders and big biceps, I can only imagine how delicious the rest of his body is. Wait…we haven’t even talked about his hands. You saw them, right? They’re
huge
, and you know what they say about guys with big hands, don’t you?” She paused, waiting for a response that I was too speechless to give. “Anyway, you need to sample whatever he’s willing to give you, and then just keep on sampling it again and again. And again. That’s something you don’t pass up. Like
ever
.”
“We’re not supposed to have conversations like this.”
“Yes, we are. We just don’t have them when we’re sober and at work, usually.” Her phone rang, and she glanced at the screen. “Makeup, hair, and nails will be arriving at your condo at five. Zack—his name is Zack, by the way—and Norm will be there at seven.”
We now had over one hundred agents working at our office. It was impossible to remember all their names and faces, but I was making an effort to get better at both.
“Zack. Norm. Be home at five for makeup. Right.”
She put the phone up to her ear and covered the speaker with her hand. “I have to take this, but it’s all in your calendar and I’ll text you to remind you.” She drifted out of the room.
I swept my fingers through the layers of my hair and glanced at the dress. Maybe I’d wear my hair up for the party, to show off my shoulders, with a dark smoky eye shadow and a lip color that had a bit of pop. Reed loved when I wore it down and straight…maybe that meant I should curl my locks into beach waves instead.
I wondered what Derek’s preference was.
“Sorry, I’m going to have to call you back,” Brea said from somewhere outside my door. Her voice changed. “Who are you looking for?”
“Frankie Jordan,” a man replied.
“Frankie’s office is right in there. Please follow me,” she told him. “Frankie, we’re coming in with a delivery. A big one.”
The delivery man placed two massive bouquets on the shelf in front of the windows. He placed a case of wine next to them.
“Sign here, please.”
I scribbled my name across the screen of his tablet and watched Brea walk across the room, picking up the card that stuck out of the first bouquet. “It’s for me.” With the biggest smile, she started reading out loud, “
I really look forward to working with you, Brea. Welcome to the team.
” She used the card to fan her blushing cheeks. “It’s from Derek.” She removed the second card and handed it to me.
You were meant for this job.
—Derek
“I told you,” she said, reading the inscription over my shoulder. “Big hands, big bouquets…big everything, I bet.”
I finally looked up. “He hasn’t even signed the contract yet.”
“It looks like he has in
his
mind.” She walked back to the shelf and pulled out one of the bottles. “This is the same wine we drank at the restaurant. He must have asked the waiter what he had served us, or checked the bottles we left on the table…observant
and
thoughtful.”
Derek didn’t seem like the kind of guy who would send gifts unless he was certain I would like it. The flowers were a good guess. The arrangement was at least four feet high, with the most exotic buds blooming in all different shades of pink. Some were as deep as rose, and others as bright as neon. The vase was made of mosaic glass in the same colors. Brea’s was just as stunning, but in varied tones of blue.