Twice Smitten (A Modern Fairy Tale) (5 page)

Jim laughed, clapping a hand on Drew’s shoulder. “Yes.”

“Who recommended you so highly?” Abigail managed to ask without clenching her teeth.

“Betty. She had the idea and then did most of the research to find the right man for the job.” Jim rubbed his hands together. “You’ll both bring him up to speed.” He turned to Drew. “Keep me informed on the progress.”

Abigail made a sound of assent that bordered on a whimper. Weeks. Her
real
boss said weeks. “Will do. I’m grateful for this opportunity to prove my team can meet any challenge.” She tore her gaze from Drew to Betty and wanted to strangle the woman. She clasped her hands together to keep from doing just that. “I’ll let you start, Betty.”

“That’s my cue,” Jim said and left the room.

On leaden feet, Abigail went to a chair and plopped down. Drew sat down beside her. His profile exuded an air of professionalism she’d never witnessed in him. Who was this man? He must have felt the heat of her gaze, because Drew focused on her. One of his brows lifted, and she could imagine him perched on a throne. Unfortunately in this scenario Abigail was the court jester.

Betty marched to the Smart Board, the black suit not giving an inch. The blond curls bounced happily when she twirled in their direction and smiled. Touching the screen, she began with the general structure of Abigail’s team, who did the most tasks and at what point they came together to brainstorm.

Abigail tried to concentrate, but Drew leaned forward and whispered, “On a scale of one to ten, how much do you hate me right now?”

She stiffened her back to keep from trembling. Gaze on the front board, she whispered back, “Eleven.”

She heard the chair move behind her. “When I took on the job I didn’t know you worked here,” Drew said. “I also meant what I said about your team having the most potential for better sales.”

“The layoff rumors, it would be my team, specifically?”

Drew was quiet for a moment. “Yes.”

Fear chilled her skin. “And seeing my name as the account exec. had no bearing on your decision?” Betty didn’t even pause. The woman really did live in her own little world. She kept on yapping about the details of Abigail’s team and how they had handled previous accounts. It helped that Abigail kept a smile plastered on her face and barely moved her mouth to whisper, “Did it?”

“The moment I saw your name I immediately agreed.” His voice reeked of amusement. “I mean, really, how could I say no?”

“Easy.” She reached forward to grab one of the pads and pens sitting in the middle of the table, because she couldn’t hold the smile. She wanted to snarl too damned much. “No. Conflict of interest.” The parting comment at the reception came back to her. “And you knew.”

“I was kidding about you being the factor.” All charm left his voice. “And this job aligns perfectly with my interests. Knowing you didn’t stop me from doing my job objectively. I found the team that could use my help. I’ll continue to do my job when I assess your team. It’s what I’m paid to do.”

Abigail glanced at Drew. If she hadn’t been talking to him, she would have thought Betty had his full attention. His brows were slightly furrowed, hands steepled, partially covering his lips, and his gaze stayed to the front. The only tell was the uplifted corner of his mouth.

She didn’t have to ask what his interests were. Abigail could play dumb with the best of them. Simply, she didn’t understand the why of it. She placed her focus on the notepad, detailing all the things Betty missed.

“Aren’t you curious, Abby?” His words were like a feather down her spine.

She rolled her neck to displace the sensation. “Pay attention.”

“To every detail,” he said, and then his warmth was gone from behind her.

It took all her resolve to not turn around and confirm he’d sat back in the chair. The heat had been nice only because the AC was cranked up on high. Irritation filled her because he had ended the conversation. There was plenty more to be said to him and none of it nice. She held her tongue until Betty excused herself and handed over the reins.

“To my office, Mr. Carter.” Abigail stood.

He unfolded himself from the chair, never losing the air of professionalism. He put out his hand for her to go first. Abigail hesitated. His gaze wouldn’t leave her ass.

Drew’s eyes lit with humor. He said, as if reading her thoughts, “You know where to go.”

Lifting her chin, Abigail escorted him down the hallway to her office. The snacks sat on her desk though Kristin wasn’t at hers. She motioned to a chair, waited for him to sit and slammed the door shut. The bastard didn’t even flinch.

Masking the scowl with indifference, Abigail leaned against her desk so she would loom over him. Even with her heels, they were level in height.

“I want to make it perfectly clear while you’re here, you’re to be on your best behavior.” He started to talk, and she lifted her hand. “What you were insinuating during the meeting is sexual harassment, and if you think for one moment I will let you come into my job and make me or any of my subordinates uncomfortable…” She scoffed. “You don’t want me as an enemy.”

His impassive expression turned cold. “I guess I can say the same.”

She pffted. “Like I would ever—”

He sliced his hand in the air, and the motion silenced her out of shock. “I don’t care how you feel about me being here. I’m here to do a job. My interests, Ms. Johnson, is to make a name for myself. Your—” He laughed softly and the sound was like melted butter, warm and smooth. “
The
company has connections and clout that will further my own career. You having a problem with me for whatever reason can be construed as a vendetta. One that could possibly stand in the way of me doing my job.”

He let out a frustrated breath. “If we can manage to work together, I’ll look good. So will you. It’s in our best interests to get along. That doesn’t sound like a conflict of interest.”

Abigail’s instincts weren’t wrong. He’d been insinuating something more than getting along for business reasons. Then again, up to an hour ago, she had no idea what he did to make money. She had only ever seen him as the lecherous, loafer cousin. When Drew had toted he was in sales, this had not been the career in mind. Maybe, she thought begrudgingly, her dislike of him colored his every word and intention.

“I’ll admit,” the coldness left his gaze, “I get a kick out of getting under your skin. It’s so easy.”

Abigail had been close to apologizing. Ignoring his statement, she said, “As long as you understand.”

“It’s a crystal clear understanding.”

And there it was again. The feeling he was talking about something else. The quicker she gave him what he needed, information about her team, the faster he’d be out of her life.

“Fine.” She handed him the notebook. “This is what Betty missed, or do you need me to go over it again since you were distracted?”

Drew took the notebook, flipped through the pages and without looking up, gave her a breakdown of everything Betty had said. Abigail looked at the top of his head in horror. Who was this man? Where in the hell had he come from? Because he definitely wasn’t the same man from years ago, much less the one who had hit on her and all her friends on Saturday.

“You should close your mouth.” Drew continued to scan the notes. “Flies can get in there.”

She clamped her mouth shut. “I didn’t have it open.” There was no way he could have seen it.

“No need to lie, Abby.” His gaze met hers. “I know you.”

“You don’t know the first thing about me,” she said with certainty.

He handed her back the notebook. When Abigail took it, she made sure no part of them touched.

The short laugh grated. “If believing that makes you feel better. Now, let’s meet your team. You can give me the low down on all your accounts later.”

Abigail crossed her arms. He noted the action, and something flicked behind his gaze. Something that made her stomach jump with need.

He added, “If that’s what you want to do.”

She smiled, repeating in her head
professional, polite
. The mantra got her through most of the day, probably wouldn’t last the weeks to come.

*****

Drew studied the Sweet Tooth sign. The flourish and font held a femininity that couldn’t be denied. No surprise Sasha had designed it, but, still, he frowned. “I don’t understand why we had to come here.”

Abigail groaned. “Please for the love of all that is unholy—”

“That’s a lot,” he joked, though Drew understood her frustration.

Facts and figures filled his head. Along with names and faces of people who could end up on the chopping block if they didn’t meet up to snuff. That, if nothing else, weighed on him the most. It was one thing to look at impersonal computer print outs, another to stand face to face with an employee who could be the weak link.

“I need reserves. You’ve asked about a million questions based on my team alone.” She pushed open the door and didn’t bother to hold it for him.

Drew caught the glass before it slammed in his face. His knees almost buckled from the fragrant scent of the bakery. All the irritation, brewing right under the surface, dissipated. He stood inside the doorway and closed his eyes, sucking in a deeper breath to take in all the heaven. An unbidden sound rumbled in his chest.

“That’s how I felt the first time, too,” a male voice said.

Drew opened his eyes and smelled cop, except the man didn’t have on a uniform. Hair cut short, his back straight, the man had a face that at the moment looked amused. Drew suspected the facial features could harden coldly with as much ease.

“Hell, it’s how I feel every time I come in,” the man said.

Emma stood at the counter, opposite the man, and she grinned. “That’s not why you look like him when you come in.”

The man didn’t turn around at her disagreement, but his mouth quirked into a smile and he held out his hand.

Drew crossed the black-and-white checkered floor. “Drew Carter.”

“Tobias.” Releasing the hand, Tobias flicked his thumb to the side. “I suggest Late Night Tennessee.”

Drew’s gaze followed the direction, but Abigail spoke, “None of it for him. We’ve got work to do.”

He moved to the counter where a placard identified the dessert. A marble cake? A brownie? Drew couldn’t tell, but the pastry looked delicious. “One Late Night Late Tennessee,” he said to Abigail’s friend.

Emma’s smile widened. “This is going to be fun.”

“What?” Abigail snapped at his side.

Drew let out a breath. “Emma’s insinuating, but do you jump down her throat?”

“She’s my friend. It’s different.”

“Different how?” Though he knew.

“Why is it, all day, you’ve been questioning me?”

He groaned again, and this time it was not filled with want. “It’s my job. In order to do it I must ask you minute details, even if you think they aren’t important.”

She took a step toward him, hands on her hips. “Oh, please. You really needed to know where we got our paper from?”

Drew shoved his hands in his pockets and stepped forward too. “Clients expect quality. If you are sending them statements on cheap paper, it speaks volumes.”

She lifted her hands up and made a sound filled with disgust. “I’m not saying it’s ridiculous. I’m saying the paper isn’t cheap. That’s a given.”

“But you didn’t know for sure,” he said, for the hundredth time. “You didn’t even think about the small detail. It’s my job to think about them. I thought we had an understanding.”

“We did. You don’t hit on me.”

He threw up a hand. “Please.”

She gasped. “Are you
insinuating
I’m a harpy?”

“Stop putting words in my mouth.”

Her gaze flicked to his mouth. For less than a heartbeat she looked tempted. He thought she’d might even lean forward. He stilled and his heart pounded in his chest. Despite their arguing, Drew still wanted her. It made him cracked in the head. They had scrapes all day, and she still made him
want
. The kind with deep roots, fed and watered by longing.

Abigail didn’t kowtow; she dug in her heels. When she gave, she meant it. Drew was crazy to want someone so prickly when anyone else would only need charm and a little romance. But Abigail…he had to earn her. Never had he wanted to meet that challenge before. It drove him nuts. And, dammit, he wanted to be someone she wanted.

But that breath of a second passed, and she stepped back, breaking the moment. “I understand, but I don’t have to like it,” she murmured softly. “And it’s hard working with you in a professional manner.”

“Oh?”

She quelled him with a look. “I know you personally, or sort of.”

Taking the line for all it was worth, he said, “You have trouble with me being over you?”

She threw back her head and laughed. “See, that’s what I mean. You say these things and they simply sound sexual.”

His laugh was silken. “Maybe it’s not me making the meaning sexual.”

The smile died on her lips, and he was sorry for it. She cleared her throat and moved to the counter. “Emma, I need some macadamia. Stat.”

The mention of her friend’s name threw him for a moment, and then Drew remembered where they were. The bakery, half-filled with occupants who did their best to act like they hadn’t been watching the play-by-play. Maybe they were waiting for improv hour to be announced. Given the college town was filled with eccentrics and students, the idea wasn’t far-fetched. He scrubbed a hand over his face.

“Just right up. For both of you.” Emma sent Tobias a failed covert glance.

Drew felt the set-up a mile away. Moments later, the man stopped lounging against the counter and approached. Emma and Abigail chatted quietly more than twenty feet away at the counter.

“So?” Tobias said.

“So,” Drew offered back.

“I know.” Tobias shook his head. “Awkward.”

Drew grinned. “Then why are you talking to me?”

Tobias shrugged. “Fiancée wants to know more about you since Abigail won’t spill.”

“Ah,” Drew said.

Tobias nodded his head with a little shrug. “Just let me know if you’re trying to take advantage of her and we can end this.”