Falling for Mr. Wright

by Robyn Neeley

  “She has no idea that you like her, does she?”

  Ryan focused on the carton of rice. He’d kept whatever he was feeling for Sarah to himself, but what would be the harm in confirming what Bridget already suspected? It wasn’t like anything was going to happen between him and Sarah—not now. “She has no clue.”

  “So, obviously you said you’d help her, right?”

  Did his sister not hear what he’d just admitted? “Why would I do that?”

  “Because if you don’t, she’s going to try anyway, and what if she succeeds? Then you really won’t have any chance of getting her. This way…” She slapped his knee when he rolled his eyes. “…this way, you control the message.”

  He chuckled. “Spoken like a communications pro.”

  “Think about it,” she pressed. “Maybe you’re not out of the race. Tell her about Logan, sure, but take this opportunity to let her really get to know you. Let her discover the things you both have in common. Then she’ll have more than enough information to make an informed choice.” She popped one of the crab puffs into her mouth and winked. “My money’s still on Logan.”

  “Thanks,” he said sarcastically, knowing she was only teasing him. “I don’t know if I want to be in the race. I’m more of a lone wolf kind of guy.”

  “It’s because you’re comfortable. And maybe a little afraid of giving your heart away and getting it broken again.”

  Not going there. “Maybe I just like being single.” He picked up one of Bridget’s socks that she’d left on the floor and flung it at her. “Besides, where would your sorry butt go if I got into a relationship?”

  “I’m a big girl. I’d figure something out.” She threw her arms around him and gave him a big squeeze. “Promise you’ll put your horse in the ring.”

  “Hat in the ring,” he corrected.

  “Horse, wolf, hat…whatever. Just do it.” Her phone buzzed, and she snatched it up off the coffee table. “Speaking of hot men, that’s my teacher,” she said, grinning a little too big for Ryan’s liking.

  “Tell him that for your next assignment I suggest you dress in a nun habit, carrying a Bible.”

  She spun around in her high boots. “I’ll be sure to do that. Don’t forget to take Sarah the cupcakes. She’ll be moaning your name in no time.”

  Ryan rolled his eyes. “I will kick that man’s ass if he hurts you.”

  “And that’s why I love you,” she called, dashing off to her bedroom.

  He settled into the sofa, his gaze coming to rest on the red envelope he’d left on the coffee table since he’d received it last month—the one bearing his ex’s return address.

  Inside it was the winter gala invitation.

  He picked up the envelope and stared at Melanie’s married name on the card. She’d always said he was the right man for her, even lobbied senior year for him to be voted Mr. Right. He’d been completely blindsided when two weeks before the wedding she’d called at two a.m., saying that she’d done a lot of thinking and she wasn’t ready to get married.

  Ryan grabbed his drink and downed it. A lot of thinking, my ass.

  That night, he’d hopped into his Nissan and driven straight to Westbrook because, as far as he was concerned, their conversation was not over. When he’d turned for Melanie’s parents’ place, he’d passed by Jeff’s one-story ranch house and immediately hit the brakes.

  He must have stared out his windshield at Melanie’s white convertible parked in Jeff’s driveway until the sun came up. Having the real answer to why she’d called off the wedding, he’d turned his car around and driven his broken heart back to New York City.

  It took some time, but the pain had eventually subsided. He’d made no effort to contact Melanie. He’d simply moved on.

  He set the card down on the coffee table. Ten years ago, he’d thought he’d be well into their marriage with kids and a dog. Now, she was just a stranger.

  Seeing Melanie and Jeff together wouldn’t be a big deal. He’d say a few polite words to Melanie and Jeff, then move on. His former classmates were another matter. Growing up the way he did, he’d had to work harder than anyone to earn their respect. And then Melanie had dumped him. The Westbrook gossip mill was probably still on fire.

  He grabbed a crab rangoon and pulled it apart. His life had turned out pretty fucking fantastic, despite all of that. He should throw on one of his Armani suits, drive up to Westbrook in his BMW, and prove it.

  Except, he wasn’t sure his life was fantastic. Sure, he had a great job and a successful career, but at thirty-two, he was living in a cramped, high-priced apartment with his sister, and his BMW had been bought used with high mileage. He wasn’t even dating anyone.

  Sarah immediately popped into his head. What he wouldn’t give to take her. Someone he could honestly introduce as his friend, and let the small-town gossip ignite.

  She did say she’d be willing to do anything he asked…

  A humorless laugh left his lips. Sarah would probably agree to it, knowing Logan would be at the gala, which would ultimately defeat the purpose of her getting to know Ryan better. Or would it? Driving two hours each way together might be enough time to prove they had more in common than she did with Logan.

  He tossed the invitation on the table and watched it slide across the dark wood. This was quite possibly the worst plan in the history of plans. There was almost zero chance of success.

  But when had he let a little adversity get in his way?

  He grabbed a notepad and pen out of his briefcase. Thinking back to their conversation in his office, he jotted down all the answers he could think of, chuckling at his responses to the final two. When he was satisfied, he set the notepad on his lap.

  Tomorrow, Ryan would convince Sarah to go along with the unconventional game plan to win over Logan, and just maybe, show her that it wasn’t the CEO she wanted, but him.

  Chapter Three

  “NPH Designs, where may I direct your call?” Sarah rolled her eyes, eyeing the empty desk out in the front lobby. She loved Nancy Finnegan, the company’s longtime receptionist, but if the old woman stepped away from her desk—and she did often—the calls were forwarded to Sarah. She took a sip of her iced mocha latte. “No. Neil Patrick Harris does not own this firm, nor did he ever. You have a great holiday, too.”

  She set down the receiver and chuckled. Add that to the random inquiries as to whether the NPH in NPH Designs stood for the famous actor.

  The inquiries weren’t completely farfetched. Rumor had it that Logan and Neil had been neighbors around the time of the firm’s name change. The way the story went was Logan lost a bet to him five years ago and had to change the name of his family-owned company from Scott and Associates to NPH Designs literally overnight. Because Logan was so private, no one really knew if that gossip was true.

  She glanced over at his closed door. He’d been in there for over an hour with Mary Beth—alone. Logan had been all smiles when he greeted the accountant earlier and promptly told Sarah to hold his calls.

  She tapped her fingers on her desk. It was supposed to be a meeting to review the year-end budget, but what if something more was going on?

  She hopped out of her chair and tiptoed over to Logan’s office, glancing behind her shoulder to make sure the coast was clear. She then put her ear up to the door.

  Oh, God, is that laughter?

  She pressed her ear harder.

  “Ahem.”

  Sarah jumped back and spun around.

  Ryan stood in front of her with an enormous shit-eating grin on his face.

  “Don’t scare me like that,” she said in a low voice. “Are you trying to give me a heart attack?”

  He nodded to Logan’s office. “What gives?”

  “Mary Beth is in there.” She frowned and walked back to her desk. “They’ve been talking forever.”

  “I’m sure it’s just business.”

  Doubtful. She took a seat, but immediately bolted up. “Did you want to see him, bec
ause I can totally interrupt the meeting if it’s urgent.”

  “Actually, I came to see you.”

  “Oh.” She sat back down and scooted her chair close to her desk, more than a bit disappointed that she didn’t have an excuse to get Mary Beth out of the office. “Please tell me you’re not bailing on lunch.” Paul had been circling her desk earlier this morning, ready to share the news of his recent toe fungus as soon as she’d said hello. She didn’t need to hear any more about it while eating her leftover fettuccini.

  “I’m still on for lunch. My sister even made you cupcakes.”

  And yet, he didn’t seem in a hurry to leave. “So, what brings you by?”

  “I’d like to help with your situation.” He nodded to Logan’s door. “I have a proposition that I think you’re really going to like.”

  Sarah propped her chin on her fist. “Ooh. I’m intrigued.”

  “I need you to go to this with me,” he said and handed her a card.

  She scanned the contents. “You want me to go to a gala in Connecticut?”

  “Yeah. It’s this weekend, and my ex-fiancée is planning it. It might be…better if I didn’t show up alone.”

  Sarah knew all about his ex. Ryan had shared with her how it all went down during the company’s retreat last spring, which was a total surprise because he rarely talked about his love life—past or present.

  She studied her friend, realizing how awkward this was for him. “Would I be your date?” That would be a little strange. Not that Ryan wasn’t dating material—anti-commitment or not, he was one of the hottest guys in the office—but she was trying to win over Logan.

  So why did her heart trip a little over the image of walking in on Ryan’s arm?

  “Nah. I just thought it’d be fun to show up with a friend. Let people make their own conclusions. Not that I’d be opposed to you acting as a buffer.” He gave her a crooked grin and nodded to the door. “Besides, Logan will be there, so if we pretended to be any more than friends, he’d bust our cover.”

  “Logan’s going?” she asked, shaking off the thought of her and Ryan laughing over high school stories with his old friends.

  “Yeah, he’s getting an alumni award.” He pointed to the card. “Check out the back.”

  She flipped the card over and read the details. That was breaking news, but didn’t completely surprise her given her boss’s tendency to keep whatever he did outside the office private.

  “Say yes, and on the drive up, I’ll tell you everything you need to know about what Logan’s like outside of the office.” Ryan leaned his hip against her desk. “What do you say? Can you get away this weekend?”

  Boy, could she. She hadn’t been out of the state in months. A road trip with Ryan sounded like fun, and since they always had a good time hanging out at work, it was bound to be a lot of laughs. “You’ll tell me everything I need to know?”

  “Yes. And then some.” He reached into his pants pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper, handing it to Sarah. “Here’s a sample of what you’ll get from me to fulfill my end of the bargain. I’ll see you at lunch. You can tell me your answer then.”

  “See you.” Sarah waited until Ryan turned the corner, then unfolded the paper, her lips turning up as she read.

  Logan is definitely a morning person. The man gets more done between the hours of four and six a.m. than most people do in an entire workday. One of his favorite pastimes is to watch the sunrise off his balcony. You’re probably wondering what Logan wears to bed. After four years of living with the guy, I can say with most certainty—boxers. I don’t know what kind he’s sporting these days, but in college, he had these ridiculous ones with Santa’s reindeer, that, yes, included Rudolph and his shiny red nose right on his junk.

  She laughed out loud.

  You didn’t ask, but between Fruit Loops and Cocoa Puffs, his go-to cereal while watching that sunrise is Cocoa Puffs.

  Just then, Logan emerged from his office with Mary Beth, catching Sarah in mid-laugh. Ignoring Sarah, the accountant said good-bye and took off for her office.

  He leaned against his doorframe and smiled. “What’s so funny?”

  “Oh, nothing.” Rudy. She hid her smile and folded the piece of paper, setting it aside. “Good meeting?”

  “Budget looks great. Hey, I have something I’m hoping you can help me with.” He walked back into his office and reemerged with his black wool coat, slipping it on. “I just emailed you over my Secret Santa list. I thought I’d do twelve days of gifts. Maybe mix it up a little and give Mary Beth twelve gifts throughout the day leading up to the party. If you could purchase them by next Thursday, I would really appreciate it.”

  With that, he said he’d be back in an hour and headed for the elevator.

  Envy crept up the back of Sarah’s neck as she clicked open Logan’s email.

  Oh, for the love of God.

  Chanel perfume and Godiva chocolate topped the list. He either forgot that there was a twenty-five-dollar spending limit or he didn’t care. Her jaw dropped at the last item on his list.

  One box of Cocoa Puffs.

  Son of an Elf! Why was his favorite cereal on the list to give to Mary Beth? She lunged for her phone, dialed the four-digit extension she knew better than her own, and waited for Ryan to answer.

  “Speakerphone or no speakerphone,” she demanded.

  “No speakerphone.”

  “Good. You’ve got yourself a deal.”

  Chapter Four

  Sarah stood on her tippy toes, reaching for her empty carry-on suitcase stored on the top rack of her closet. She had meticulously laid out all the clothes and shoes on her bed that she planned on taking with her.

  Excited for her road trip, she’d woken up an hour earlier than she normally did, showered, and dressed.

  This was going to be a great weekend. She’d get dressed up, go to a fancy party, and hopefully rack up bonus points for being there to support Logan.

  She’d be lying if she said that was the only cause for her excitement. Her gaze darted over to her bulletin board and the goofy picture of Ryan and her holding up hot dogs taken at last summer’s company picnic in Central Park.

  Spending time with Ryan was right up there with celebrating with Logan. She had no doubt they’d have anything but a total blast on this trip.

  She chuckled. Maybe they’d do a little carpool karaoke to the Backstreet Boys like they’d done the one time he’d given her a lift home after a work happy hour that had turned into a late night. That had been fun.

  Singing “I Want It That Way,” she set her suitcase on her bed, unzipped it, and began to pack, stopping to twirl to the chorus.

  “Hey, you didn’t tell me you were headed to an American Idol audition.”

  Sarah clamped her mouth down and spun around, surprised to see her roommate, Chloe, up this early. No. Her bartending roommate usually didn’t surface from her room until well after noon. “Oh my gosh. I’m so sorry I woke you.”

  “You didn’t.” Chloe yawned and nodded toward her room. “Peter did. Guy snores like a horse.”

  Sarah smirked. As if she didn’t already know about his sleeping habit. She liked Chloe’s on-again-off-again boyfriend, but had to admit that she got a better night’s sleep when they were off-again. Thin walls and a couple that couldn’t keep their hands off each other meant Sarah covering her head routinely with her pillow to drown out late night orgasms followed by Peter sawing logs.

  “So, whatcha doing?” Chloe came over to Sarah’s bed and flopped down, propping herself up on her elbows and clicking her fuzzy pink slippers that really didn’t go with the black negligee she had on, but who was Sarah to judge.

  Plus, she had her own red silk nightie tucked away at the bottom of her suitcase just in case the opportunity presented itself for her to wear it for Logan.

  “I’m packing,” She resumed putting her clothes in her suitcase. “I didn’t get a chance to tell you. I’m going to Westbrook, Connecticut for the week
end. I’ll be back on Sunday.”

  “What’s going on in Westbrook that you’ll need these?” Chloe leaned over and picked up a pair of Sarah’s laciest red panties. She twirled them with her finger, sporting a mischievous grin.

  Sarah’s cheeks warmed, but she quickly brushed off any embarrassment. Chloe already knew all about her crush on Logan. They’d dissected it many evenings over chips, salsa, and margaritas as good friends do. “Logan’s getting an alumni award, and I want to…you know…be prepared should an opportunity arise.”

  Chloe’s eyes went wide. “Oh my God. Did Logan invite you to go away with him for the weekend?”

  “No, he didn’t.” Sarah arranged her shoes in her suitcase. “He doesn’t even know I’m coming,” she admitted. “Ryan invited me. He’s picking me up soon.”

  That caused Chloe to sit up and raise her eyebrow. “So, the panties are for Ryan?”

  “No.” She snatched them from Chloe’s hand, heat creeping up her neck as an image popped into her head of her standing in front of a shirtless Ryan in nothing but the lace.

  And it wasn’t the first time she’d had that fantasy.

  When she’d first started at NPH, she’d had a giant crush on the guy who’d taken a seat next to her at her first all-staff meeting in the conference room and offered her a malt ball.

  However, as they’d started to hang out in the break room, she’d quickly learned that Ryan wasn’t looking for a relationship.

  Still, those first few months at NPH, she’d fantasized what a casual fling with Ryan would be like, being in his arms, kissing his lips.

  But if they had hooked up—and it went further than kissing—it might make things in the office weird. She didn’t want that, because she liked having lunch with him. So, she set her sights on Logan—a successful man who, unlike Ryan, might be ready to settle down. At least that was the gossip around the watercooler among all the ladies.

  “Wait. Do you hear that?”

  Chloe interrupted Sarah’s thoughts with her question. “No…”

  “Exactly. Peter stopped snoring.” Chloe jumped off the bed. “I need to go back to sleep pronto. Have a good trip with Ryan.”