Vibrizzio (3 page)

Digging one of her heels into the mattress and pushing into it, she slowly inched herself across the bed. Keith followed along, not seeming to notice. Almost there but not quite. She made a quick lunge, grabbing at the drawer, and didn’t notice that the motion had tilted her pelvis, causing her thigh to crush into her boyfriend’s ear.

“What the hell are you doing?” He jerked his head away and stared at her outstretched arms. Three of her fingertips rested on the drawer pull.

“I … I thought maybe it wouldn’t hurt to bring some vibration into the action.” The way his eyebrows flinched stopped her from pursuing her goal. Instead, she brought her arms down to push up on her elbows. “It was just an idea.”

“How exactly are both me and
that
supposed to be down here?”

She gave a small shrug. “I was thinking this could get me going and then you could swoop in for the kill at the last moment.”

“At the last moment.” He pushed away from her, flopping onto his back. “Because I’m not capable of working you up to that point. Did you not enjoy it at all?”

“What? Yes.” She scooted down the mattress so her head was even with his and leaned over him, tracing his lean chest muscle with her thumb. “It felt really nice.”

“Nice? Now there’s a ringing endorsement—‘He gives
nice
head.’”

Lyssa laughed. “Well, it’s not like I’m going to put out an ad for you. Why would I do that when I want to keep you all to myself?” She peppered his chin with baby kisses and worked down his throat to his nearly hairless chest, relishing the feel of his firm, smooth muscles under her warm mouth. He was a runner and also dabbled in martial arts and whatever else was the current rage in nerd culture. While most of her friends were into muscle mass, she’d always had a thing for skinny guys with hidden power in their taut, wiry frames. She slid her tongue over him, taking turns teasing each of his nipples into a stiff nubbin. “Let’s forget about me and move on to you, hm? I’m thirsty for a pineapple-Keith daiquiri.”

He didn’t object.

Chapter Three

Hayden waved at Lyssa, who’d made it to O’Hare International Airport a full ten minutes earlier than she’d planned. Her partner stood in front of the check-in kiosks with his overnight bag at his feet and his boarding pass in the hand he’d just flagged her down with.

“You didn’t have to wait for me,” she said.

“I know, but this way I’d know sooner if you were late and would be able to call to give you a nudge.”

“How did you know I wasn’t already at the gate?”

He shrugged his non-committal answer. “Did you already print your pass?”

“Yep.”

They walked over to the line for security, and she updated him on the slight changes to their itinerary as they wove their way through the tethered maze. They were flying to New York to interview two contenders to replace Blaze Capital Management in DH’s investment program and then would catch a quick flight to Boston for a meeting the following morning with Bell Funds, the third candidate.

After making their way through the scanner with no incident, they waited for their things to be ferried through their own scan. Lyssa snatched her zip-locked toiletries, purse, and shoes as soon as the conveyor belt brought the tray to her, but her carry-on bag reversed back into the machine just as quickly as it appeared. The security officer studied the screen. “Gonna have to search it,” he murmured, and then started the conveyor belt again, lifting her bag when it emerged and taking it to a side table.

Lyssa fumbled to get her ankle-high boots on and hobbled over to the table mid zip so she could keep an eye on what was happening with her bag. By the time she straightened to stand all the way up, Hayden was right behind her with his shiny black shoes tied and his jacket neatly draped over his arm.

“You can head for the gate if you want,” Lyssa said. “Oh, and coffee’s on me this time, if you don’t mind getting it.” She reached into her purse for her wallet.

“You can buy, but I’ll wait.”

When Lyssa turned toward him, she saw his eyes fixed on the contents of her bag while the airport guy pawed through it. She could only imagine what her partner thought he was learning about her now. Returning her focus to the bag, she squelched a gasp when the guy pulled her makeup bag up from the bottom, unzipping it. His gloved fingertip pushed aside eyeliners and lipsticks to reveal a baggie containing a four-inch-long, white tube. It had a clear, spiky rubber cap on the end, which Lyssa hoped wasn’t obvious through the wrinkled plastic encasing it. The on/off switch along the side would be pretty hard to miss, though.

The man closed the makeup case and returned it to the bottom of her luggage. “You’re good to go,” he said as he zipped up her bag and pushed it toward her.

She refused to look at Hayden even while she told herself he was an adult and a Pocket Rocket in a woman’s overnight bag was no big deal. They’d just walk down the hall to the gate, return to business talk, and that would be it. And then, about halfway down the hall, the silence got to her. Glancing toward him, she blurted, “It’s a flashlight. In case of emergency.”

“Uh huh.” Hayden kept his eyes straight ahead. His inflection had implied he didn’t believe her, but his lack of follow-up graciously indicated he also didn’t require an explanation.

* * *

New York City was warm, but the ocean breeze cut the humidity. During a pit stop in a public restroom after the eight-block walk between the first and second meeting, Lyssa was able to easily blot off her thin layer of sweat with just a few squares of institutional toilet paper. When she stepped back into the worn lobby, she didn’t see Hayden and wondered if he’d proceeded to the investment manager’s fourth-floor suite without her. Her mind eased when the men’s room door creaked open.

Her partner had removed his jacket and loosened his tie during the walk, but now every thread was back in place. He once again looked like the poster boy for “The Hottest Men on Wall Street.” They traversed the cracked and yellowing tile to the bank of ancient elevators, and as he reached to push the brass button, he said, “I think you should take the lead on this one.”

“What? Me?”

“Yeah, you.” His steely blues fixed on her. If he hadn’t been holding his briefcase, Lyssa was sure he’d have been folding his arms across his chest in a dare. “Think you can handle it?”

Lyssa nodded with a confidence she didn’t entirely feel. She’d led a few brief, introductory meetings with investment managers before, but nothing as in-depth as what they were doing that day and never on the manager’s home turf. But her experience in the business world had taught her that the ability to pretend she knew what she was doing was often more valuable than actually knowing. So when the ding sounded, she slid on a smile. “No problem. Follow my lead and try to keep up.” Winking, she resisted the urge to condescendingly slap Hayden’s rear as she moved past him into the elevator.

He gave her a few helpful pointers on the way up, but three steps before the entrance to Ardent Capital’s suite, he added, “Also, watch the
um
’s and stop biting your erasers.”

She halted and turned to glare at him. Why would he throw her off like that right before walking in?

“Sorry,” he said, “But it’s never a good idea to start out too cocky.” Side-stepping around her, he crossed to the door and pulled it open, gesturing her through. She was too irritated—and nervous—to even glance toward him as she brushed past. She wished she’d have thought to hold her breath too so she wouldn’t have taken in the provokingly yummy scent of his now familiar cologne.

During the meeting, Hayden pulled back like he said he would, and Lyssa dug into the investment process and depth of professionals while also assessing Ardent’s intentions for future growth. On the tour of the facilities that followed, Hayden’s natural tendency to lead took over, and Lyssa didn’t mind the opportunity to let him do the work of questioning while she sat back and observed.

When she and her partner were once again alone, side-by-side as the elevator lowered to the ground floor, he nudged her shoulder with his. “You did a good job in there.” Tiny sparks snapped inside her … and she hated herself a little bit for feeling as elated as she did by his compliment.

In the cab and at the airport, they both checked their phones and returned messages, so it wasn’t until after they’d settled in on the short flight to Boston that they got around to discussing the investment managers they’d met with.

“What did you think?” Hayden asked.

“Of which one?” Lyssa turned from her view of the clouds.

“Both.”

“Everything seems to check out. I didn’t note any red flags, so I don’t see any reason not to recommend either one of them.”

“DH isn’t looking for managers with no reason not to hire them—we’ve got to give them reasons
to
hire them. Frankly, I don’t think either one is the best fit.”

“Why not? They’ve got decent track records, impressive staff, and sound processes. They both stay consistently within the large cap value quadrant, the slot DH needs to fill.”

Hayden wrinkled his nose. “That’s just it—they’re too plain vanilla. We can’t put either forth as the top contender, not for our first rec. We’ve got to show we have something new and exciting to offer.”

“I don’t know … Shep seems fairly old school. Not sure exciting is the best way to go.”

Hayden smiled. “Good instinct. And that’s exactly why Bell Funds is perfect. They’ve got the tradition and resources of their owner, the bank, but the investment team is really innovative, pushing their parent company’s rules as far as they can.” Lyssa knew from earlier conversations that her partner was familiar with the Boston-based company from working with them on behalf of his Taft-Hartley clients.

“Yeah, pushing them into mid-cap and even growth from time to time,” she countered.

Hayden’s eyes flickered, and Lyssa would almost swear he bounced in his seat. “Exactly. But all the while, they’re applying true value strategies that are leading to them to the atypical investments everyone else is missing. The reason they don’t stay as close to the value index as the others is because they’re taking chances and doing better than the plain vanilla.”

Lyssa couldn’t argue with the firm’s track record for the past three years; it was stellar compared to those of their peers, but she wasn’t sure that was a long enough period to impress the new client. She and Hayden would have to pinpoint exactly what it was that had led to the improved figures.

“And just wait until you see their offices,” Hayden continued. “I’m telling you, these guys are the Tarantinos of the investment world.”

Lyssa lowered a scrutinizing eyebrow and examined him, pursing her mouth.

“What?” he asked.

“I’ve heard of a bromance before, but I’m not sure what to call this crush on a whole investment firm.”

“Just wait.” An electronic ping sounded throughout the cabin as the seatbelt symbol illuminated. They were zeroing in on the seaside approach to Logan International.

* * *

An hour and a half later, Lyssa found herself rushing around her hotel room to finish blow drying her hair and shimmy into her skinny jeans and black, flared tunic—her most travel-friendly casualwear. She was already five minutes late to meet Hayden in the lobby. After the long day they’d had, she’d planned to order room service and watch TV in her room, but since they only had one night in Boston, Hayden had convinced her to take in some of the local flavor, literally, and at least go out for fresh seafood, a rare treat for the two Midwesterners.

Hayden had both surprised and impressed Lyssa on this trip. She’d already witnessed his rare combination of high intelligence and magnetic personality. In New York, she’d also seen signs that perhaps he was more sincere than she’d initially judged him to be. He’d scored several points by his show of confidence in her at Ardent’s offices, and she had to admit he wasn’t unpleasant to spend time with.

When she stepped out of the elevator into the lobby, she spotted him talking with a man behind the front desk. Her partner turned, and when his eyes landed on her, they opened a little wider and his lips spread into a grin. He nodded a thank you to the concierge and moved toward her. “Lookin’ good, Bates.”

A spontaneous smile flickered onto her face. It was her first time seeing him out of his power suit, and she liked the softer shade his pale gray oxford gave to his irises.

“I was just getting recs for decent restaurants within walking distance,” he said. “How does a cozy, little Italian place sound?”

“Cozy?”

“You know—small, darkish, lots of candlelight.” He leaned in and lowered his voice to practically a growl. “Intimate.” He was close enough that his warm breath brushed over her lips.

“I have a boyfriend.” The words were out before she could snatch them back.

Hayden let out a quick chuckle and straightened his posture, pulling away from her as a result. “And I’m not interested. I was only defining the word cozy. If you think your boyfriend would prefer for us to eat a Filet-O-Fish at a brightly-lit McDonalds, I’m sure we could find one.”

“No … yeah, that’s fine. The Italian place, I mean. I’m sorry, I misunderstood … but you did the droopy eye thing, and I thought … ”

He smirked, letting Lyssa know there was no need to expand on what she’d thought.

“Okay,” she said, determined to bring them back to where they’d been thirty seconds earlier. “We’ve firmly established that neither one of us is remotely interested in the other, so can we please go get some food now? I’m starving.”

They moved on to the restaurant, which turned out to be darling and just as snug and private as Hayden had conjectured. They sat at a high-backed booth with one small candle in a jar to light their way. After ordering their entrees, they’d agreed to put Project Pineapple talk aside for the rest of the night and delved into their respective work and college experiences instead. Lyssa had started as an entry-level data analyst at Fox & Keaton right after graduating from her Big Ten University. Hayden had made an alumni connection through his Notre Dame education and scored a job as an assistant to one of Chicago’s top stockbrokers as his first job, which is where he’d worked until joining the consulting firm.