The One & Only: The One Lover Series Book 1

by La Serra, Maria

  “How to Deal with Rejection”

  by Greg McAdams

  9

  Staci

  “Where are you? We have to go over the next issue,” I said with my phone between my ear and shoulder, my eyes catching Jackie across my desk.

  It wasn’t like Greg to miss a day of work.

  “I’m taking the day off.” Greg sounded odd.

  “What’s the matter with you?”

  “I’m sick with a cold.” He coughed, but it was coming across sounding forced and unnatural.

  “All right,” I sighed. “The new post goes out this Friday. I guess I will have to make the decisions without you.” I tried to bait him, knowing the magazine was Greg’s baby. There was no way he would give me full responsibility without having his input.

  “I’m fully confident you can,” he said.

  He fully trusted me?

  I had spent last night awake, thinking about us, wondering if I had made the right decision. I knew we’d had something going on between us from the first time we met. It didn’t start at Nast Publishing, but at Pelham Country Club. The thing was, I knew he had changed, but my heart was not ready to leave things in the past. Maybe it never would be.

  “Okay, get some rest. You should eat chicken soup.”

  Why did I say that? I guess I cared. We were friends if not anything else.

  “Yeah … okay, I’ve got to go,” he said before the line goes dead.

  It was not like Greg to miss a day of work.

  I shut down my laptop then reached for my navy blazer, the one, every time I wear it, Greg calls me Popeye.

  “Where are you going?” Jackie asked.

  “Oh, I have some research to do.” I threw my purse over my shoulder. “I’ll be back in an hour.”

  “Sure. Does this research have something to do with Greg?” I hated it when Jackie saw right through me.

  “No, of course not.” I made my way to the door.

  “Tell Greg I hope he feels better,” Jackie said just before I walked out the door.

  * * *

  Twenty minutes later, I arrived at Greg’s apartment located in midtown Manhattan. I hoped to catch him at home and see what’s really going on with him. When Greg opened the door, his eyes didn’t look puffy or red around his nose—just like I suspected.

  “Staci? What are you doing here?” he asked.

  I noticed something else about Greg. He was bare-chested.

  Jackie, if only you were here.

  “How did you know where I lived?”

  “I…” I composed myself, looking everywhere except at his perfectly toned body. “You’re not the only one who can find things out.” I cleared my throat and took the liberty to walk past him into his apartment. “Cute place, but I was expecting a penthouse with a view of Central Park.”

  I allowed my eyes the freedom to scope things out. Greg’s apartment was cozy but clean, all decorated with neutral colors. Living area and dinette were in the same room, closed off to the off-white galley kitchen.

  “Why did you think I lived in a penthouse?” He ran his hand through his hair and it caught my attention.

  I preferred his hair better without the hair products. My eyes ran the length of him. So, this was what Greg McAdams looked like away from the office —dressed in a pair of heather gray sweatpants and nothing else. It was one of those situations that, once seen, it couldn’t be unseen.

  How am I going to face him at the office tomorrow without undressing him with my eyes?

  I cleared my throat. “You drive a Ferrari,” I deadpanned. “And a Harley.”

  “They’re bribes.”

  “What?”

  “Gifts from my father,” he said.

  “Is your father looking for any children to adopt?”

  “Well, I think he’s full in that department, but it won’t be long before he’s looking for wife number four. They do keep on getting younger …”

  “You wouldn’t mind if I was in the running?” I winked.

  “I don’t want you anywhere near him. You’re too good for him,” he said.

  My brows went up, but my eyes caught every curve on his biceps.

  “Why aren’t you dressed?” I said, holding out my hand up to his chest.

  “Because I was hot. Am I making you feel uncomfortable?” He flashed a knowing smile.

  “No.” You sure are.

  “I think I have a fever.”

  He walked closer and my hand went to his forehead, which felt cold to the touch.

  “You seem okay,” I said as our eyes met.

  His hand goes to my waist, and I knew that look he was giving me.

  “If I didn’t know any better, I would say you’re trying to kiss me.” I arched a brow.

  “I am.” He smiled wickedly, waiting for me to move forward, but I forced myself to step back instead.

  “Not a chance, McAdams,” I said, walking away from him.

  “Not that I’m not happy to see you … but why are you here?”

  “I wanted to check out where you lived,” I mused. “To see if your place was bigger than mine.”

  “Aha! That’s the Staci I know.” His crooked grin came out full force. “But, um … not to see if I’m okay?”

  I turned around to find him now stretched out on his white couch, his hair resting on top of his closed eyes. I had the urge to allow my hand to wander through his soft strands of hair and grip them tight … only without malice.

  Keep it together, Staci. This is Greg, the man you despise.

  Only it didn’t feel like that anymore. Maybe it wasn’t a good idea to come over. It wasn’t until now I realized how much more enthralled I was with Greg. It was an attraction and nothing else. Perfectly reasonable when you worked in close proximity with someone.

  “Yeah. Whatever. That, too,” I said, and Greg chuckled.

  “Do you mind if I bring this into the kitchen?” I hold up the restaurant bag. “I brought you chicken soup. Want some?”

  “Only if you will feed it to me.” He smiled, and I had the urge to roll my eyes at him.

  “Not a chance, McAdams.”

  In his kitchen, I grabbed two spoons from the drawer. When I turned, he was there behind me. So close I could feel the warmth of his body roll off him.

  “So … you’re not really sick.” I looked up and met his eyes.

  “No.”

  “You didn’t come to work today … was it because of me? Because I turned you down yesterday?”

  He lets out a long sigh. “No … not everything I do revolves around you, Miss Cortés,” he said without looking at me.

  He took the two plastic bowls out of my hands, and I followed him out to the dining table.

  “So, what is it then?” I asked. “I don’t mean to pry into your life, but—”

  “But you will anyway.” He shot me one of his sexy smiles I loved to hate. “I’ll tell you since you’re nosy.”

  “I’m concerned,” I said, handing him a spoon.

  His fingers touched mine, sending butterflies to my stomach.

  “Ah, you do care about me.”

  “I care about missing the deadline in four days. I need you back at the office.” I sat in the empty chair in front of him.

  “If you say so.” He scooped up the hot soup, blowing on it. He sipped it before saying, “My father is retiring in a few months or so— he keeps changing his mind. I think he’s waiting for me to take over Nast Publishing.”

  “And you don’t want to?” I opened the lid, stirring the hot broth.

  “It’s complicated.” He swung those blue eyes to mine. “I’m the oldest after my sisters, so it’s always been assumed I would be the one to take it over, but then I always imagined myself doing something else,” he said.

  “Hold on … oldest after your sisters? What are we in, 1785? Don’t your sisters want to take over the company?”

  “Jordyn has her own architecture firm and two kids, so she has her hands full. Skyl
ar has shares in the company but has never shown interest in working there.”

  “So, what is it you want to do?”

  “I’m trying to figure it out, but I know I don’t want to be forced into something I’m not sure about either.”

  “Have you talked to your dad?”

  “Yeah, that’s what led to last night’s dispute.” He said.

  “Well, personally, I would take it if my dad gave me a company.”

  “You think I’m some spoiled rich kid.” He sat up straighter in his chair.

  “No, I don’t think that.” I frowned.

  “But you do. Deep down, everyone does.”

  “You know, Greg, I think you have a lot of issues, and you need to work them out with your father.”

  “I knew you wouldn’t understand.”

  “You’re right; make me.”

  “I feel inadequate,” he blurted out. “You know my father brought in my younger brother, Jamie. Only, Jamie doesn’t want to be a part of it either. So, now, it’s between my sister, who’s six, or me.”

  “You have a sister who’s six?” Jeez, how many were there?

  “Half-sister. My stepmother is only thirty-five.” He sighed. “I know my father thinks I’m not cut out for this business.”

  “Because he had the intention of passing it to Jamie?”

  He nodded. “What if he’s right and I fail? I’ll never live up to my father’s standards. He is a huge success.”

  “You will be, too.” I liked the way he looked at me. “I’ve seen your work ethic. I see how you treat people at the office. You don’t look down at them— you treat them as your equal. You’re quick with ideas, and in my opinion, you’ll bring something fresh to the table.” I paused, leaning against my chair. Why hadn’t I realized it sooner? “Oh, now this all makes sense.”

  “What?”

  “According to Staci and Greg—it’s a test your father set you up on.”

  “If I succeed, then the company is all mine.” He nodded, and my stomach turned.

  “Wait, were you trying to sabotage the magazine? Is … is that why you wanted me on this project? Knowing we would never get along? You hoped this magazine would be a complete flop so you could get back at your father for choosing Jamie over you—”

  His forehead furrowed. “Well, no, that’s not true—”

  “Oh, and here I was, thinking you wanted my name next to yours because I was the best writer you had.”

  “You are the best we have,” he said louder.

  “I can’t believe I let you do this to me again. Leading me on, only to shut me down again.”

  “What is it with you?” he said, sitting straight in his chair. “Here you are, acting all concerned about me …” His face was twisted. “You want something from me too, don’t you?”

  “Oh, like what, Greg? To be your flavor of the month?”

  “I hate that you always assume the worst of me. No, you’re using me to build your portfolio. Don’t you think I know you’ve been applying to other magazines? I thought we had something good going on here,” Greg spat out.

  “We do.”

  “You say we’re friends, but I know something is eating at you. Tell me what I did to offend you.”

  “Remember I told you I worked at the country club long ago?” I asked.

  “Yes.”

  “And I had a huge crush on this one guy.”

  “I remember.”

  “Well, he flirted with me when he used to come by. Then, one day, he offered to take me out to dinner after my shift.” I wiped my mouth on the napkin. “But it never happened because, when I finished my shift, I found him in the parking lot, making out with a beautiful blonde. I never saw him again, not until I started working at Starlet, right across the hall from his magazine in the same building.” I finally looked up, meeting his gaze. “I don’t want to assume the worst in you, Greg, but I have a hard time letting go of the past.”

  At first, there was a moment of confusion before his expression changed to a sympathetic one.

  “Cece. Everyone called you Cece at the club.” His face turned pale. “I’m sorry. Truly, I am. I was an asshole back then. But I’m a different person now.”

  I shook my head, not able to meet Greg’s eyes. Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything. This was going to make working with Greg very awkward.

  “Look at me, Staci.” When my eyes met him, he continued, “You know I’m a different guy. The guy I am today would never have treated you that way. I was a mess. My parents had just gotten divorced. Hell, you don’t need my whole life story. You didn’t deserve that.”

  “It’s fine,” I said, wiping my tears. Why am I crying? “I have to go.”

  “Staci—”

  “No, it’s okay. Forget I said anything.” I grabbed my purse before heading out the door without looking back.

  If you feel he should apologize for wronging you, then ask for one. If he doesn’t, then walk away. He’s not worth another minute of your time.

  “Stop Making Him Hurt You”

  by Staci Cortés

  10

  Greg

  The next couple of days, Staci avoided me. The only interaction I got from her was if it had to do with the magazine. When I talked about anything other than our next post, she brushed me off. I deserved it—and I didn’t. She hadn’t given me a chance to explain, to tell my side of the story—not that I thought it would change her view of me because, damn, first impressions stuck. However, I knew, somewhere inside that beautiful head of hers, Staci saw me for who I am, not the shallow jerk that didn’t exist anymore. If only she knew I’d never meant to hurt her.

  I was mature enough to understand where the pain and insecurities were coming from— weight, and with men. It was the one reason I could think of why she puts on this hard-shell exterior, but I saw past that. The attraction you have with someone begins with the physical aspect, but once you get to know a person the way I had with Staci, the connection was unexplainable … outweighing any physical attraction ever could. The more time I spent with her, I knew she was the one. No one else would ever do.

  Sure, no two people could be the same, and every relationship has its trials, including platonic ones. Without excitement to work out our differences, it made it difficult to keep the relationship going. There was excitement in me, and I wondered if she had felt the same.

  I couldn’t focus on work. I missed Staci, her feistiness, the way she kept me on my toes, the way she drove me insane. Somehow, I couldn’t get her out of my mind or my heart, and now I was afraid I lost her for good.

  I caught Staci across the hall, wearing black pumps and a hip-hugging blue dress that accentuated her feisty Latin curves that I loved so much. She cast her eyes at me before getting into the elevator. I got up from my desk and made my way across to Starlet. If she wouldn’t listen to me, then I’d get Jackie to talk to her.

  I knew Jackie was a big fan of romances with happy endings. She carried one of those historical romance novels around the office like it was a Bible. If anyone could help me out, it was Jackie. Staci would listen to her. All I know was, I couldn’t go down without a fight.

  “Hey, Jackie.”

  “What happened between you two?” Jackie didn’t miss a beat, typing away at her keyboard.

  “Staci didn’t tell you?” My brows creased.

  “Oh, she did. Staci told me everything.”

  “You think I’m a jerk?” I placed my hands in my suit pant pockets.

  “Tell me your side of the story. I’ll let you know for sure.” She abruptly stops tapping on her keyboard, casting me a look. “I don’t judge before I get all the facts. It comes with years of being in the business.”

  I sighed, pulling a chair up to sit across from her desk. “It happened six years ago.” I slide my phone that’s been chiming with e-mails all morning into my jacket pocket. “I wish she would give me a chance to explain.” I let out a long breath. “At the time, I really thought we had a
connection, and that woman she caught me kissing was my ex-girlfriend, whom, at the time, made it her mission to get me back. What Staci didn’t see was I pushed her away. I did go back inside to find her, only to learn she had already gone. I went back a week later, but her boss told me that she’d quit.” I felt a pang at the bottom of my stomach, realizing she had because of me.

  “I don’t want to get involved between you two, but for a couple of people who are supposed to be experts in the dating department, you guys kind of suck at it.” Her lips thinned out.

  “You think you can talk to her? At least to convince her to give me a second to explain?”

  “Look, Staci is not upset with you … not even a bit. But she has insecurities. Why do you think Staci wears heels all the time? She thinks it makes her look tall and thinner. Also, when you kissed your ex—the one with the perfect body—how do you think it made her feel? She was much rounder back then. You remember that, right?”

  “Yeah, but that wasn’t ever the issue for me. Honestly, it’s never been the issue. I love a woman with meat on them. More for me to hold on to,” I smirked.

  A smile tugged at her lips. “But something bothers me. All this time, you didn’t recognize who Staci was?” she asked.

  “Jackie, I was young. I had a terrible motorcycle accident two months after the fact. I don’t remember every moment in my life. I’m sorry that she’s hurt by it, but I’m not trying to play any games here.”

  “I like you, Greg McAdams. I see that you care for her. I really do.” A look of understanding crossed her features. “But she thinks you’ll hurt her, and she’s been burned before—not only by you. Don’t look surprised. She might have her moments of true hatred toward you, but you’re not the reason she’s a hot mess when it comes to relationships.”

  I glanced at Staci’s empty chair. “Where did she go?”

  “Staci is on a date.”

  “What? With whom?” I squared my shoulders.