No. And he wants to have lunch with you. Said so and everything.
In a perfect world, her glare would be enough to melt the damn phone. Her boss was either stupid or he had a death wish because leaving her alone with Ryan Lloyd guaranteed fireworks.
She was deciding which measured response to go with when their direct line intercom buzzed. With an annoyed huff, she picked up the phone and answered tersely, “What?”
His slight pause gave her a moment of regret. John Lloyd was her boss—not the wonky-eyed guy who delivered her Thursday night Chinese takeout. And as her employer, she had an obligation to treat him with the respect he was due. Unlike crazy eyes who always managed to drop off a lewd suggestion or two along with her takeout containers. She had no problem eviscerating him with her worldly command of the language. On a bet in college, she had learned how to say or suggest fucking off in several dialects.
Muttering a nearly silent, “Shit,” she sat up straighter and took a deep breath.
She exhaled a sigh of relief when he stepped into the non-existent conversation he was obviously pretending they were having. Saved by whatever was driving John’s sloppy handling of his sibling dynamic.
“Thanks for the reminder, Jen. It’s an important meeting. And thanks for standing in as Ryan’s lunch date.”
Not sure if their interaction was on speaker, she tightened her professional manner and answered lightly, “That’s what you pay me for, John.”
He chuckled, and she imagined the smirk her comment deserved. Then he demonstrated his executive privilege with a simple demand that reset their work relationship.
“Be here in fifteen minutes.”
It was his prerogative, of course, to be as curt or as formidable as he wanted, but that didn’t mean she was his lackey. Exactly as she knew he expected, Jen came back with one last remark.
“I’m busy. Lunch lasts forty-five minutes. Tops.”
Another chuckle and then the call disconnected.
3
Ryan put on a show of thumbing through a magazine while his brother also engaged in a bit of theater. The text with his assistant followed by what he presumed was a coded call meant to convince Ryan that Jen Carlton was on board with them having lunch together was quite entertaining.
He’d expected John to try to duck out of spending time with him, which explained why he showed up unannounced. What difference did it make when his brother put zero effort into anything except Lloyd Global? The man had a classic case of type A personality—a fact that did not sit well with Ryan. As far as he was concerned, it was high time his big brother slowed the hell down and smelled the flowers before life completely passed him by.
From the corner of his eye, he saw the phone return to its cradle and John’s hesitation. Totally a knee-jerk reaction but he went with what he knew was more or less expected and made a snark-filled crack.
“This lunch goes on the expense account. Right?”
John glowered at him. Sarcasm and kidding around were mostly mysteries to his brother, so it took a minute for his reaction to catch up.
“Smartass,” the Lloyd Global CEO frostily replied.
Ryan saw the smile tugging at his brother’s mouth and felt oddly relieved. Was his granite outer shell finally starting to crumble?
Hmph. Unexpected and very interesting.
John walked to the massive wall of windows and crossed his arms as he looked out at the cheerless city vista. At that moment, Ryan felt sorry for his brother. He’d taken on so much for so damn long. And to what end? So Lloyd Global could be bigger? More powerful? Make even more money?
The thought didn’t sit well, especially considering the irrefutable fact that he and their mother were the beneficiaries of John’s sacrifice.
Their father hadn’t planned on dying in a car accident, and Ryan was positive Gregory Lloyd would not be happy with the way things turned out.
“Ryan,” John mumbled.
The awkwardness in his tone got Ryan’s undivided attention.
“Have you touched base with Mom?”
“Well, she knows I’m in town, but no, I haven’t gone home yet. Aunt Grace texted and said they’d be back from the beach house soon. I don’t imagine for a second that you were unaware of our mother’s ETA, so what’s the real question, bro?”
John turned slowly and faced him. The funereal backlighting from the overcast skies gave his brother an extra somber look.
Oh, great.
“Quinn Montgomery.”
Ryan’s brows shot into his hairline. “Yeah? And?”
“Has mom or Grace spoken to you about her?”
Subconsciously reaching for the leather cord around his neck that held a medallion, Ryan fiddled with it and searched his memory for clues to whatever the fuck John was getting at.
Quinn Montgomery was a ghoul on her best day. She had one setting and one goal. The setting was female fraudster and her goal was to land an open wallet for a husband backed up with an ironclad prenup and a guaranteed payout all calculated in her favor.
He shuddered slightly a second before his stomach throbbed with alarm. Oh, holy shit. Was John considering an arranged marriage?
No.
Just no.
He wouldn’t allow it.
That was a step way too fucking far for him.
“Oh, my fucking god, bro. Please tell me you’re not hooking up with her.”
John visibly jolted. “What? No! Are you kidding? We’re not talking about me.”
“Then why bring the Amityville Horror into the conversation?”
“It’s not me, you dumbass,” John grated through clenched teeth. “It’s you.”
“What do you mean?”
They stared at each other in silence, blinking occasionally.
He wasn’t usually so damn slow on the uptake, but it took him a good minute to shift the puzzle pieces around in his brain before realization dawned.
“Hold up. Are you saying what I think you are?”
“It’s a Connie and Grace special.”
“Aw, come on,” he barked. “Is our mother off her rocker? Quinn Montgomery is the female version of the anti-Christ. Someone else will have to ski her polar ice shelf because I’m not in the running. Nuh-uh. No fucking way.”
“Jen says they’ve already discussed financials.”
Ryan leaped from his seat and made a series of rude gestures. “Are you telling me your snotty, uptight assistant is stirring the pot with our mother and aunt?”
“Hell, no,” John replied. “As a matter of fact, she reacted quite, uh …” He shrugged. “Vehemently? Is that a good word?”
“How the fuck am I supposed to know?” He was nonsensically yelling now and didn’t care.
“Okay, calm the hell down.” John waved his hands and took a theatrically deep breath. “Let’s back up, shall we?”
Ryan started pacing. Motherfucking, goddamn, horse shit, ball clamp. This was precisely why he avoided the city. No matter what, it was always a shitshow. Why hadn’t he gone to Denver after leaving Alaska instead of coming here?
Denver was home base—not that his family knew that. The sixty acres of stunning countryside he picked up for next to nothing was where he’d hung his hat for the past year when he wasn’t traveling the world in his role as the face of Lloyd Outdoors. For reasons he didn’t care to pick apart, the real estate acquisition was a secret that only he and his personal lawyer knew anything about.
“Feel free to throw it into reverse,” Ryan grumbled, “but I’ll tell you this. Ain’t no way I’m falling into a marriage trap with a cold fish like Quinn. And believe me, dude, I’ll be explaining that to those two meddlers as soon as I can.”
As if she’d been waiting in the wings for her cue, Jen breezed into John’s office after a halfhearted knock and gave them both a look so dry he got windburn from it.
“Let’s do this.” She rather pointedly consulted her watch before looking from John to him. “I don’t have all day.”
>
Dead silence greeted her remark, so she snapped her fingers and clapped her hands once. “Hello?”
Twenty minutes ago, the idea of cornering Jen into having lunch with him seemed like shit tons of fun. He liked messing with her. Jenna Carlton and her uptight ways were practically the only reason he ventured into the despicable concrete jungle. But right now, the last thing he wanted to do was wrangle with her. Not when what he really wanted was …
When he remained still and silent, she turned to John. “Is he having a stroke or something?”
“He didn’t know about Quinn.”
Ryan felt a little less like strangling her when she gasped and gave a little groan. “You told him?”
John nodded.
His world wobbled when he heard Jen murmur, “You didn’t have to, John. I planned to take the hit.”
He learned two things right then. One, Jen Carlton wasn’t quite the shrew he imagined, and two, she was uncommonly loyal to his brother. To borrow a tired business reference—in his eyes, the lady’s stock immediately went up. Maybe lunch wasn’t such a shitty idea after all.
4
The tap, tap of her heels on the marble floor distracted Jen from some less-than-friendly thoughts as she made her way from John’s office to the bank of elevators. Three steps behind her—just enough for a view of her ass—a swaggering Hawaiian shirted, long-haired jerk followed.
Her shoulders straightened more than usual, and a deliberate guise of nonchalance rounded out the image she sought to project. No way did she want anyone to know that Ryan Lloyd rattled her cage.
As they entered the reception area, Jen sidestepped up to the desk and smiled at Samantha. John’s last words before she left his office were about the pretty receptionist stopping by to check out his plant situation. His nervousness was kind of endearing and told her that she was picking up the correct signals from her boss. His interest in Samantha Matthews was real, and she intended to ride shotgun for the man as he took tentative steps into a possible relationship.
Ryan continued to the elevators and shuffled about, shaking hands and greeting several Lloyd employees as he waited for her.
Gesturing over her shoulder with a jerk of her thumb, Jen halfway rolled her eyes when she met Samantha’s gaze. “Got the short straw. Lunch chaperone.”
The good-natured woman snickered. “Don’t you hate when that happens?”
Jen turned and leaned back against the reception desk as they both studied John Lloyd’s sibling opposite.
Where John was tall and somewhat lanky, his brother’s matching height was accentuated by rugged brawn. She figured their contrasting lifestyles accounted for the difference. John was in excellent physical shape, but jockeying a desk in a climate-controlled tower didn’t present much of a challenge.
Ryan, on the other hand, was a product of his unique lifestyle. He was one of those guys who did it all. Hiking, swimming, mountain climbing, spelunking—you name it and he’s done it. Including bungee jumping off a bridge above a mountain gorge that scared Jen shitless when she saw the pictures.
He also gave off absolutely no corporate airs whatsoever. In all the time she’d known him, Jen only saw him don a suit once a year for his mother’s annual Lloyd Global get-together. The rest of the time, he dressed like a vagabond—a wealthy vagabond—with a mane of longish dirty blond hair and the type of wardrobe one expected of a celebrity cover model with a trendy stylist.
The thing was, he didn’t have a stylist or a publicist. What you saw with Ryan Lloyd was exactly what you got. A weirdly boho enigma who was part environmentalist and part spoiled rich guy. The garish shirts, rugged jewelry, tattoos, and jeans were just who the guy was.
Samantha had a little giggle as a crowd of employee-fans circled around Ryan when he pulled out his phone and held it up. “Show and tell?”
Jen chortled. “His adventure in the Denali backcountry. Wait till you see the photos for the magazine. If I didn’t love living in a paved over paradise, I’d be jealous.”
Dismissing the outdoorsman, she pursed her lips and turned away. There was work to do.
“John’s looking forward to your help, Samantha. I think he feels like a failure due to his lack of a green thumb.”
“Well, it’s not as if he’s responsible for the landscaping.”
Hmm. Interesting response. So Samantha wasn’t entirely unaware how odd John’s request really was. This was good! It might not be time just yet for a cupid’s arrow, but at least, she knew both parties were awake to the possibilities.
She threw the woman a bone by giving her an insider’s view. “Did you know his father grew roses and exotic flowers? It’s even mentioned in the family bio on the website. Plants were Gregory Lloyd’s Zen. He took a botany class in college and developed a life-long fascination.”
Samantha immediately realized what Jen was sharing, and her face saddened. Quietly, she murmured, “Oh my. Thank you for telling me. It’s hard to lose a parent so young. Affects the rest of your life.”
Jen reached for Samantha’s hand and gave a little squeeze. “And you’d know all about that, wouldn’t you? How’s Chelsea doing? Did she like those riding lessons you won in the charity auction?”
The woman’s face lit up at the mention of her adorable seven-year-old daughter. After losing her daughter’s father while still pregnant, Samantha somehow managed to soldier on after her fiancé was killed in the war. She was raising their daughter all by herself, and from what Jen had seen firsthand, she was doing an admirable job.
“Oh, Jen! She loved going to the equestrian center, and our riding instructor was great. You know, I’m still a farm girl at heart. Growing up, we rode horses and tractors. Never imagined I’d be raising a child in the middle of a busy city, so any chance to expose her to a different life is a good thing. Will help round out Chelsea’s world view.”
The happiness flooding her voice warmed Jen’s heart. Here was someone who wasn’t about a fancy life or lots of stuff, and that was exactly what John needed. A grown-up who knew how to access joy—even in the midst of unimaginable sadness.
Samantha tilted her head in Ryan’s direction. “He offered to arrange a behind-the-scenes docent tour for us at the museum. The natural sciences director is a friend of his.”
“Really?” Jen’s face registered her surprise. Ryan knew Samantha had a daughter? Color her shocked.
Tapping on the desk, she gave a mirthless laugh. “And on that note, tick-tock. Feeding time at the zoo.”
Samantha chuckled as Jen turned to leave. “Don’t worry about the boss and his plants. I’ve got this.”
She beamed at her comment and said a silent prayer. John Lloyd and Samantha Matthews were a matchmaker’s dream couple.
“Later,” she chortled before heading into Ryan’s gaggle of fans. It was damn hard not to roll her eyes at how fervently the assembled throng hung on every word from his mouth.
Marching past him, she punched the down button on the elevator and took a stab at ignoring the Ryan Lloyd sideshow. He had enough admirers as it was. No need to be sucked into his nonsense.
An annoying cackle of laughter shot from the crowd. She side-eyed those present and ascertained who was responsible.
Monica Corbet.
Her mind cataloged several notes about the ambitious marketing executive. Jen knew what a female on the prowl looked and sounded like, and Monica would require watching. Ryan was an easy prey for a professional man-eater like Monica.
The elevator doors opened, and she stepped in, determined to ignore her lunch partner. If he missed the elevator, oh friggin’ well. She’d eat without him.
About to congratulate herself on being so clever, Jen got grumpy when Ryan zoomed into the small cube at the last possible second. His mad dash to enter before the doors slid shut sent him barreling into her. After a quick jostle, she heard his husky chuckle as she shoved him away.
“Get off me, you idiot.” She snarled.
“Relax, Ms. Carlton. I p
refer my women soft and squishy. Your angles and sharp edges are hardly alluring.”
“Eat shit.” She said it with a smile and followed up with the hint of a sneer. “You flatter yourself for imagining even for one second that this scruffy vagrant thing you’ve got going on is appealing.”
He pushed some of his long hair behind and ear and gave her a once-over. “Better than having a stick up my ass.”
She gasped at his impertinence and thought to quickly defend herself. “That stick is to beat off jerk faces like you.”
He cracked up laughing, which shut her right the hell up with confusion.
“Did you just use the terms jerk and beat off in the same sentence?”
“What are you talking about?” she answered dismissively. A smarter way of handling him probably existed, but his scent invaded her senses, momentarily catching her off guard. Had he always smelled so damn yummy and she just hadn’t noticed until now?
The elevator doors opened on the ground floor, and as she stepped into the lobby, he took her arm, quickly drawing her to his side. She initially tried to shake him off until her brusque movement caught the attention of several nearby people.
Since the last thing she needed was a tweeted cell pic of her brawling with a member of the Lloyd family, Jen reluctantly threw in the towel and let him march her across the lobby to the front doors. It didn’t help her frame of mind that so many eyes witnessed his pitiful attempt to power play her into acquiescence.
Oooh, he was so going to pay for this little maneuver.
Outside on the sidewalk, she shook him off and stepped back. Slapping her hands on her hips, she gave him the 411 with a less-than-friendly tone.
“If you ever do that again, I will put you on the floor.”
He smirked. She didn’t.
Jen wasn’t fooling around. “Try again at your own risk, Mr. Lloyd.”
They squared off—right there. He searched her face, and she made sure to give it to him with her eyes ablaze with meaning.
“Not so sure, are you?” she taunted when he wisely backed down.
Cupid In Heels Page 3