“Is that for me?” he asked, gesturing at the cups of coffee on the table.
“Oh, yes! I’d totally forgotten. I got you a latte.”
He picked the cup up and took a sip. “Mm, cold coffee. My favorite.”
We grinned at one another, enjoying our rediscovered closeness.
He finished his coffee in a couple of short gulps and placed the cup back on the saucer. “So, now we’ve got that sorted out, I know you work at AGD, but what exactly do you do that means you get to dress up like Miss Moneypenny for work?”
My cheeks heated up. “I’m an account manager.”
“Oh. Is that like being an accountant?”
I shook my head. “No, I’m in sales. I sell telecommunications solutions to businesses. I’ve been doing it for a while, and I really like it.”
“That’s impressive,” he replied with a smile as the heat continued to rise in my cheeks. “I’m glad you’re not an accountant. Aren’t they boring as hell?”
I laughed. “I don’t know.”
“I don’t, either, but I’ve totally bought into the whole urban myth about dull accountants, so it’s just as well you’re in sales, instead.”
“Just as well.” I smiled at him, as something moved in my chest.
This is good, this is very good.
My phone buzzed insistently on the table between us. “Sorry,” I muttered as I flipped it over. I read the reminder, telling me I had a team meeting back at the office in ten minutes. Dammit! That’s what you got for making dates in the middle of the work day.
“I’ve got to go,” I said, wishing I didn’t have to.
“That’s too bad. I’ll walk you out.”
We wandered out of the café and out onto the street where we stopped and turned to face one another.
“I’m really pleased you called,” Nash said, smiling down at me and taking my hand in his.
“Me too. Thanks for . . . not thinking I’m crazy.”
He laughed. “Oh, I didn’t say that.”
I whacked him playfully on the arm. “Well, then.” I looked up into his blue eyes.
“Well, then,” he echoed, gazing so intently at me, my heart rate kicked up about a gazillion notches.
He slipped his free hand up my arm and onto my shoulder. “You know how we did that thing in there, the thing you seemed to like?”
I nodded, my throat turning dry.
“If it’s okay with you, I’d like to do it some more. A lot more.”
“Me too.”
And then he leaned down and did it again, he kissed my socks off. Well, not that I was wearing any socks, because on a grown woman in corporate clothes, that would just look weird. But if I were wearing any socks, they would have been well and truly kissed off me by this gorgeous man, right there on the sidewalk.
“Can I see you this weekend?” he asked.
“That would be nice.”
“I’ll text you.”
With great reluctance, I tore myself away from him, turned and walked down the street. My heart felt like it could burst right out of my chest. I had made the right decision. Nash was the man for me. He liked me and accepted me for my crazy freak-out ways.
And oh, my! What a kisser!
Perhaps he was The One after all? Perhaps this was going to work? Perhaps this had been my Last Second Date?
Chapter 7
I returned to the office, floating on a cloud of happiness, my feet barely touching the floor. Nash liked me, and I liked him back. No freak-outs, no bolting from the scene of the date, just a cup of (cold) coffee and some outstanding kissing with a very, very hot guy.
I let out a contented sigh. This must be what it’s like for normal people.
I dropped my purse at my desk and headed straight to Cassie’s office. Cassie had become Regional Sales Manager a few short months ago and got her own office with a view of the city with a sliver of a glimpse of Auckland’s beautiful harbor. Although she was my boss, it hadn’t affected our friendship. I was a hard worker—when I wasn’t meeting hot men at cafés in the middle of the work day, that was—and always delivered great results. In fact, since Cassie had been promoted, I had taken her place as one of the top selling account managers in the team, a record I was extremely proud of.
“Knock, knock,” I said, leaning up against the door frame, peering in at Cassie, hard at work on her computer.
Cassie’s head bobbed up, and her look of concentration transformed into a grin. “Come in, close the door. I take it you have news?” She stood up and walked around her desk toward the comfortable chairs she had arranged around a small, wooden table by the large window.
Closing the door behind me, my tummy performed a fresh flip-flop at the thought of Nash. “I do.” It would have taken superhuman strength to suppress the grin that wanted to spread across my face, a strength I didn’t possess today.
I sat down and crossed my legs. Looking at Cassie’s face, upturned in anticipation, my heart expanded. “It was good, really good.”
“And he was okay with the whole dog thing and your freak-out?”
I nodded. “He was. In fact, he said Dexter’s—that’s his dog’s name, which is really cool, isn’t it?” I sidetracked myself, thinking of how cute Nash and Dexter were together, adding to Nash’s charm. Why I had decided to choose Blaze over Nash was utterly beyond me right now. “Anyway, he said his dog’s lick didn’t even come near his lips and that he doesn’t usually let him lick his face. So, we’re all good.”
Cassie shook her head, smiling. “You are so funny, Marissa. But I’m happy for you.”
I beamed. “Thanks. I am too.”
“So, you’re seeing him again?”
“Of course! We’re going out on Saturday.”
“Oh, that’s so exciting. Your third date.”
“I really want it to work out. Nash even said he would help me through my next freak-out.”
Cassie raised her eyebrows. “He did? Wow, he sounds amazing.”
“I know, right? Amazing.”
Cassie grinned at me. “I have a feeling about you.”
I had a feeling about us, too. “It’s got to work,” I added solemnly.
Cassie narrowed her eyes at me. “Because of the pact?”
“Yes, that’s right: the pact.” A knot tightened in my belly. Since we had first agreed to the pact to marry the next guy we dated, I hadn’t exactly taken it as seriously as the others.
But now, things had changed.
Cassie raised her eyebrows in question, her eyes trained one me. She had the ability to say everything without saying a word, and it was making me very uncomfortable.
I swallowed, not wanting to have this conversation right now—or at any time, if I was completely honest. I shrugged. “And I . . . I want what you have with Will,” I added, hoping to deflect her attention.
“Uh-huh,” she replied, her eyes searching my face. Dammit! She wasn’t deflected in the least!
I squirmed uncomfortably in my seat. I needed a change of subject, stat!
“So, I’m seeing Pukeko Chocolates today, to pitch a solution. Want me to try and nab some of that earl grey tea–flavored chocolate you like?”
“Hang on. Let’s get back to this ‘it’s got to work’ thing.”
I’d pulled out the big guns, and failed. I had felt sure if anything could distract my sweet-toothed friend from her line of questioning it would be chocolate.
I scrunched up my face. “Do we have to?”
“Why does it ‘have to work’? What’s going on, Marissa? What are you not telling me?” Cassie’s voice was filled with suspicion—and concern.
I hated to admit it, but I crumbled. Man, I would make a terrible spy if I was captured and interrogated by the enemy.
I let out a sigh. “It’s my ex, Eddie. We dated a long time ago. He . . . he got engaged.” I hung my head.
Cassie’s mouth formed a perfect “o” but no words came out.
“It’s not that I’m tryi
ng to say ‘well, look at me, I’m in a relationship, too’ or anything, you understand, it’s just that it made me realize it was about time I got serious about getting serious with a guy, and the pact seemed like the perfect way to do it, and . . . well, here I am, dating Nash,” I said, rapid-fire.
Cassie raised her eyebrows. “Are you sure? I mean, it can be a big thing when an ex gets engaged. It can bring up all sorts of things.”
“No! It’s nothing like that. It’s so much more nuanced.”
Nuanced my ass. Eddie had been my Big Love, the guy I fell for hard. We were together for three years, and I had thought we would last forever. And then he broke up with me, out of the blue. It was like a hurricane blasting through my life, devastating me. It took a long, long time to get over Eddie Sutcliffe.
“Is it really, Marissa? Are you sure you’re not having a knee-jerk reaction to this guy becoming engaged?”
Again, I crumbled. And again, I would make a terrible spy. “Maybe a little bit? Or a whole lot? One or the other, I haven’t decided yet.” I pouted.
I remembered Eddie’s smile, the way he made me feel so special, something I had never had before. He quickly became the center of my world, and life without him was unimaginable.
Until I had to.
Cassie shook her head. “Oh, Marissa.”
I put my hands up in surrender. “It’s okay. Everything’s good. I admit, I may have decided to find The One because of the whole Eddie marrying a perfect-looking ice queen thing, but I genuinely like Nash, really, I do.”
“Okay. So, what’s the deal with this Eddie guy? When did you two date?”
“We met in my last year in college and dated for a few years. He was my first.”
“The first guy you slept with?”
“Yes, and . . . my first boyfriend.”
“Wow, a late bloomer.”
“Something like that.”
None of my friends knew about my teenage confidence and weight issues, and I had zero interest in sharing now. It wasn’t long after I’d lost the weight and begun to feel better about myself when I had met Eddie. We hit it off immediately, and I was genuinely surprised when he asked me out. I hadn’t gotten used to the idea guys would find me attractive, I’d been invisible to them for so long. We started dating and, for the first time in my life, the pieces had felt like they had fallen into place. And that’s the way it was for three years, two months, and seventeen days. Until he broke my heart.
Cassie’s phone beeped on her desk. She stood up. “I had better get back to work.”
“Sure.” I couldn’t help but feel as though I’d let her down, like she could no longer trust my intentions. Or maybe it was me I was letting down, me I couldn’t trust? I pushed the unsettling thoughts from my mind.
Cassie turned to me as I reached for the door handle. “You know what? I hope you are genuine about your feelings for Nash and you’re not just hankering after something you can’t have.”
“Please trust me?” My voice was almost pleading.
“It wouldn’t be fair to mess Nash around, you know. Not if you’re still in love with your ex.”
I let out a startled laugh. Still in love with Eddie? Was she insane? “No way. It’s all good.”
I thought of Nash, sitting across from the table at Alessandro’s, smiling at me, and I knew what I had begun to feel for him was real. It was special, and it was genuine—whether or not I had something to prove to Eddie Sutcliffe.
* * *
I reached my desk and plunked myself down in my chair, staring absentmindedly at the cute puppies calendar I had on my cubicle wall. Despite the churning in my belly, a small smile spread across my face. I should tell Nash I had pictures of dogs at work. He’d like that.
“Hi, Marissa, is it?” a voice said.
I swung around in my chair and came face-to-face with the newest member of the sales team.
“Yes, it is. Hi, Antoinette.” I nearly chuckled. This girl wasn’t French, so what kind of name was that? A pretentious one, that’s what it was.
“I wondered if you could help me? I don’t know how to work the printer.”
Antoinette Smith—You see? Unless I’d missed something, Smith was so not a French name—had joined AGD on Monday, and already half the guys in the team were in love with her. Well, probably in lust with her, you know how men could be. With her long blond hair, her short, tight dresses, and more makeup than a drag queen on debut, she definitely fell into the “sex siren” category in that obvious way men can’t help but lap up.
When we had first met, I’d found it hard to take her seriously. She looked like she belonged on the set of the Baywatch movie, not in a telecommunications sales team. Cassie had told me confidentially that she had been forced to employ Antoinette as she was her boss’s niece. Nepotism was alive and well at AGD, it would seem.
I hopped out of my seat, glad of the distraction from my love life. Antoinette may not be my type of person, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t be nice. “Sure, no problem.”
I walked with her through the sales office, noticing the male team members’ eyes following us, their tongues virtually hanging out, as we made our way to the photocopy room. I rolled my eyes. Men. Subtlety was not their forte. I glanced at Antoinette. She seemed to lap the attention up, walking like Marilyn Monroe, her hips swinging from side to side.
“Okay, what are you trying to do?” I asked as we stood facing the printer.
“I sent something to print, but it hasn’t turned up here.”
“It might be in one of these.” I leaned down and checked the trays running along the side of the behemoth machine. Why it needed so many trays was beyond my understanding. I found a couple of loose pieces of paper and pulled them out. “Is this what you’re looking for?”
“Oh, yes!” Antoinette replied, her face lighting up as though she were a child and I’d just announced she was going to Disneyland. “Thank you so much.”
I handed the paper over to her and said, “Next time, choose tray seven. For some reason, that’s the main tray.”
“I will,” she replied with a nod, her face serious.
Back at my desk, I pulled up my action list and set about ticking items off before our team catch-up at eleven. I put the final touches on the presentation I planned to give Pukeko Chocolates this afternoon, and I ran through precisely what I was going to say in my head, mouthing the words out as I looked at my screen.
Eleven o’clock rolled around and I accompanied the rest of the team into the boardroom where we took our seats around the large oak table. I watched with amusement as a couple of my male colleagues fussed over Antoinette, pulling a chair out for her, offering her water—generally making idiots of themselves. She took it all in her stride, smiling and simpering at them like a fifties movie star. I bet she got it all day, every day.
“Right, everyone. Let’s get down to it,” Cassie said, standing at the front of the room in front of a large, empty screen. She clicked a key on her laptop, and a diagram appeared on the screen behind her.
I had to pull my glasses out of their case and give them a wipe to see the screen.
“As you can see on this chart, we had a good, solid quarter,” Cassie began.
The chart showed a small rise in profit, but an equally small rise in costs.
“I’m not going to beat about the bush here, guys. We need a better quarter, starting from right now.” She sat down at the table. “Let’s hear your top projections. Marissa? Why don’t you kick things off for us?”
I glanced down at the spreadsheet I had printed off prior to my coffee with Nash this morning. I had the name of each of my customers in one column, their current revenue, projected increases based on my upcoming pitches, and my estimated percentage success rate. I was prepared.
“No problem. First up, I have a data solution I’m pitching to Pukeko Chocolates this afternoon with Bryce.” I smiled across the room at the technology specialist I often worked with. He was the absolute
best. “Even though this is only my third appointment with them, I’m pretty confident they have short-listed us and Telco, and I plan on blowing them out of the water with our new voice-data-connectivity solution. I’ve placed that at a seventy-five percent likelihood.”
“Excellent. We’ve never had their business and it’s big, so anything you need from the team, you let me know.” I nodded. “What’s the projected revenue?”
I gave Cassie my figures and watched as she typed them into her laptop. I had been working on Pukeko Chocolates for weeks, having followed up on a lead from our telephone support team, and I was this close to winning their business, I could feel it in my bones. Winning it would be a major coup for me, plus it would set me up nicely to achieve my annual target, which, I hoped, could lead to a promotion to Account Director within the team. Marissa Jones, Account Director. I liked the sound of that.
Today was my final push, and I was hoping, with Bryce’s expertise and my savvy, we would put this one to bed very soon.
Cassie continued to go around the room, asking for each team member’s predictions. I watched her work quickly and efficiently, asking pertinent questions and offering support or advice where needed. When it came to Antoinette’s turn, all eyes were on her. She sat in her seat, her cleavage pushing its way out of her tight top, toying with her long blond hair.
“Antoinette, as you’re new here and haven’t gotten to know your customers yet to be able to make any projections, maybe you’d like to tell us all a little bit about yourself? This is day two here for you?”
“Yes, it is, and I have to say, I love it here. You all have been so welcoming to me.” She put her hand against her chest, and I could have sworn many eyes nearly popped out of their sockets as they watched the gesture. “All of you,” she said, gesturing with her hands, “are awesome!”
As she flicked her arm out, her watch got caught in her long hair, pulling it out to the side so she looked like she was wearing some kind of wide hood made of hair. But, although her hand didn’t stop, her hair did, pulling a large clump out of her head.
Three Last First Dates Page 7