Now things got delicate. “One and the same. I think we should hire her to work on the dog food project.”
Greg tilted the chair back to look up at the ceiling. “How do I ask this politely? Oh, right, I can’t.” He brought his gaze to Will’s face. “Are you sleeping with her?”
“Yes.” Will never lied to his partner. “But that has no effect on my evaluation of her abilities.”
“I’ll buy that. You’ve never let pleasure get in the way of business. But it could become awkward with HR.”
“Why the hell would I tell HR?”
“You wouldn’t but she might. Sexual harassment in the workplace and all that.” Greg spread his hands and shrugged.
“She’s not that type.” Will rubbed the back of his neck in irritation. “I don’t even know that she’ll accept the job.”
Greg looked relieved. “So you haven’t discussed it with her yet.”
“I would never make that kind of decision without running it by you first. You know that damn well.”
“Sex can cloud even the strongest man’s judgment,” Greg said. He grinned again. “Especially the kind of sex that makes you smile.”
“I wasn’t having sex when I . . . never mind,” Will said, realizing that Greg was baiting him.
Greg’s grin widened, then faded. “Give me a couple of hours to think about this and do some research,” he said. “But I gotta admit that I’ve never known you to have a bad idea.”
“You’re forgetting my insistence that we open ten locations on the same day.” Will stood.
“You were younger then.”
“People keep reminding me of my age,” Will complained.
“You just need to get old like me and then people are afraid to comment on your age.”
Will chuckled and returned to his own office. After his night with Kyra, he felt relaxed enough not to rush around but energized enough to start a whole new pet division of Ceres. He’d been toying with the idea since the evening at Stratus, so he trusted his instincts about its viability. However, it was Kyra’s revelation about her financial situation that had kicked him into gear. This was the only way that he could think to help her with her money problems. The person in charge of launching Ceres for Canines would command an impressive salary.
He grimaced. He hadn’t lied about his concern that Kyra would refuse the position. He would have to get Greg to make her the offer. Otherwise, she would never accept.
But he had to try because he hated the defeat in Kyra’s eyes. And the waste of her potential.
He didn’t want to think about the other reasons he felt such a compulsion.
Two hours later, Greg sat down in a chair in front of Will’s desk. “I think you’re onto something with the dog food. Turns out people are pretty wacko about their pets and willing to spend money when they live in more urban centers. It won’t play in Peoria, though.”
Satisfaction surged through Will. He nodded. “Agreed about the much-maligned Peoria. Limited locations will make it even more appealing to the upscale pet owner.”
“Are we doing cats, too?”
“As far as I know, cats also have sensitive stomachs.”
“Gerbils?”
Will laughed. “No rodents.”
“That’s a relief.” Greg folded his hands over his stomach. “Now tell me about this college friend of yours.”
“I think you should interview her and draw your own conclusions,” Will said. “I’ll give you her contact information.”
“Do I get a résumé to review?” Greg’s tone verged on skeptical.
“Her experience is nontraditional, so her résumé won’t really help your evaluation.”
Greg rolled his eyes. “MBA jargon.”
“Not all jargon is meaningless. She’s not corporate, but she’s extremely bright and hardworking. And she’s already developed the dog food.” Inspiration sparked in his brain. “We could tie the dog food launch into benefiting the K-9 Angelz program. We could even use their dogs as beta testers. The PR would be incredible.” And it would be extra leverage to get Kyra to take the job.
“I’d like to see this place first,” Greg said.
“Not a problem.” Will wanted to see it, too, since he was basing a new venture on it.
“I have to ask you another question.” Greg sat forward. “If your friend doesn’t want the position, do you still plan to go forward with the project?”
Anger flashed hot. “Do you really think I would waste the company’s money on a product I didn’t believe in?”
“No.” Greg kept his eyes locked on Will. “But you’ve killed two other new proposals in the last six months, so I have to ask myself what makes this one special.”
“You agreed with me on rejecting those proposals.” Will kept his voice even, although he wanted to curse at Greg.
“I could see your heart wasn’t in them.”
“Ceres for Canines will move forward, no matter who is at the helm,” Will said, his voice ice-cold with fury.
Greg lifted a hand in surrender. “Don’t get pissy. I’m on board. Send me your friend’s contact info.”
Will picked up his cell phone and swiped Kyra’s phone number to Greg’s e-mail. “Try not to scare her away by being an asshole.”
Greg grinned. “If she’s gone out with you already, then nothing I can do will make it any worse.”
“Go find a spreadsheet to screw up,” Will said, but his anger was fading. He had to admit that he should have asked himself the same question.
Kyra slapped a lime on the bar’s cutting board and whacked it into paper-thin slices.
She shouldn’t have stayed all night, wrapped in the luxury of Will’s million-thread-count sheets and the even greater luxury of his large, powerful body. But he’d sapped her willpower with his mouth and his hands and, yes, his words. She’d let herself drift off to sleep and awakened only to make love again in the slant of early morning sunlight.
Now she had to live with the longing to do it again . . . and again.
She cut a radius in each slice, laid them in a crystal dish, and slid it onto the counter.
“Thanks,” Bastian said, twisting a slice into a helix before impaling it on a stainless steel swizzle stick and dropping it into a rocks glass. “Didn’t get a chance to replenish the supply earlier.”
“No worries,” Kyra said. She saw a customer drain his martini to the dregs and strutted down the bar to get him a refill.
The men were all smiling at her tonight, and she knew it was because her body still glowed with deep sexual satisfaction. She felt more fluid in her movements, felt her hips swaying naturally, knew her skin was suffused with a sensual flush. If it brought in more tips, she didn’t have a problem with that.
What she did have a problem with was how she felt about Will. All the yearning of her college crush had returned with a vengeance, magnified by the reality of the man he’d become and the fact that she’d finally gotten her wish to make love with him.
She almost wished he’d been a disappointment in bed . . . selfish or unimaginative or cold. But no, Will had to be as brilliant at sex as he was at everything else. And then he’d had the lack of consideration to send her texts at odd moments all day with quotations from various racy poems. So she had no chance of banishing him from her thoughts. Not to mention that she’d had to rack her brain to come up with answering quotes. Which had been a hell of a lot of fun.
He’d finished his barrage of seduction with an invitation to his place after she finished work. He would send his limo to pick her up at any hour. And he would be in it.
Yep, she hated him in a big way.
She put down a linen cloud napkin and placed the fresh martini on it. “Shaken, not stirred,” she said with a smile. Men were always flattered by the reference to James Bond. It made them feel dashing and dangerous.
“You have a license to kill,” the man said with a wink as he took a sip.
“Kyra! How wonderful to see you ag
ain!”
Startled by the vaguely familiar woman’s voice calling her name, Kyra pivoted to find Petra and Farr sliding onto bar chairs several feet away. Petra gave her a wide, friendly smile while Farr looked as though he would prefer not to be there. As soon as he met her gaze, his expression smoothed into one of affability, but she’d caught his discomfort. So it had been Petra’s idea to come. Unease rippled through Kyra.
“Petra. Farr.” It was strange to see the two of them in her environment instead of Will’s. “Is this your first time at Stratus?”
“Oh, no, I’ve been several times,” Petra said. “That’s why I think it would be the perfect venue for a fund-raiser. I’ve come to take another look at the facilities.”
The dress she wore made Kyra sigh with envy. Sheer cream fabric was embroidered with graceful, flowing branches in shades of pale pink. Three-quarter-length sleeves showed off Petra’s slim wrists, on one of which she wore a tiny gold watch that glittered with diamonds. Long, swinging earrings of polished pink coral hung on gold chains. Kyra flinched at the sheer gorgeousness of the woman.
“I have the pleasure of experiencing Stratus for the first time,” Farr said in his southern drawl. He looked very Wall Street in a tailored gray suit, a striped blue shirt with a white collar, and a red-and-blue striped tie. “Most impressive.”
“Wait until you taste my cocktails,” Kyra said with her well-rehearsed grin. “What would you like?”
“A Cosmopolitan,” Petra said. “I love the color.”
It would match her outfit, too.
“May I recommend Snow Queen Vodka from Kazakhstan?” Kyra said. “It’s organic and smooth as velvet. And may I add a surprise of ginger to your Cosmo? I think you’ll enjoy both.”
Petra actually clapped her hands together. “Oh, yes! I love a little adventure.” Her huge, dark eyes were lit with excitement. Will wasn’t wrong about her ability to charm.
“Farr?” Kyra asked.
“Bourbon, straight up,” he said. “What have you got?” He was scanning the display of bottles.
“A special treat. Michter’s twenty year. I only offer it to those who understand it should not be diluted even with ice.”
“I am in heaven and you are an angel,” Farr said, laying his palms together as though in prayer and casting his eyes upward. “Give me a double.”
Kyra laughed and pulled out a muddler and fresh gingerroot, whipping up the ginger Cosmopolitan at high speed. Then she poured a generous double of Michter’s in a crystal rocks glass. When both Petra and Farr made sounds of pleasure after their first sip, she felt a glow of satisfaction.
Farr put his silver Stratus ingot on the bar, but Kyra shook her head. “First round’s on me.”
“Sugar, I know what Michter’s goes for, and I’m not letting you pay for it,” Farr said, nudging his ingot toward her.
“I get it at cost,” Kyra said with a smile and ignored the ingot.
Petra took another sip of her Cosmo. “If we have our fund-raiser here, could this be our signature drink? It’s yummy.”
“I’d be honored,” Kyra said. “Have you spoken with Derek about all our private party services? They’re pretty amazing.”
A fleeting look of guilt crossed Petra’s face. “Not yet. I’m just starting the process of choosing a venue.”
“I’d be happy to put you in touch with him.” And she’d get a nice commission if Petra chose to have her party here. “He’s a wizard at party planning.”
Petra waved her hand in an airy gesture. “Not tonight. I just want to soak up the atmosphere.”
“And I want to soak up this bourbon of the gods,” Farr said, toasting Kyra.
“Excuse me for a moment,” she said. “I’ve got another thirsty customer who needs my attention.”
As she mixed a Vesper martini and a Negroni, Kyra puzzled over Petra’s appearance at Stratus. She’d obviously gone to the trouble of finding out where Kyra worked and persuading Farr to come with her despite some reluctance on his part. Given the circumstances, it was a little disturbing to find Petra on a bar chair in her place of employment. Maybe Petra wanted to make it clear that Kyra was a worker bee and she was the customer whose business was to be courted. Not that Petra had given any sign of that. She was the epitome of graciousness.
Kyra served up the drinks, refilled another customer’s glass with Prosecco, and rejoined Petra and Farr.
“You work very hard here,” Petra said, her tone admiring. “And you’re really good at it.” She gestured to her cocktail.
“Thanks. I do my best.” Kyra couldn’t help being flattered, even though she suspected a hidden agenda behind Petra’s presence. “Would you like anything to eat? We have some delicious tapas.” She laid two menus of thick handmade paper, sky blue with clouds scudding across them, on the bar.
“No, no, we had dinner already,” Petra said.
Farr picked up a menu. “I might be persuaded to soak up the bourbon with some chive blini with quail eggs. And add some of those Glidden Point oysters.”
“For soaking up alcohol, I would also recommend the gruyère-and-parmesan beignets,” Kyra said. “Light as a feather but with excellent bourbon-absorption properties.”
“Oh, all right,” Petra said, looking at the menu Farr was holding. “I’ll have the wasabi spring rolls with asparagus and shiitake mushrooms.”
Kyra tapped their order into her tablet, this time accepting Farr’s proffered ingot. Once again, she had to leave to serve other customers. When she got back, the food had arrived and Petra was ready for another Cosmo.
“How did you learn to bartend?” she asked Kyra.
“I trained at a restaurant in my hometown in Pennsylvania.” It was Kyra’s oft-repeated answer. “And then I learned the fancy stuff from the pros here.” She nodded to Bastian and Cleo, who were on with her that night.
“It looks like a fun job,” Petra said, a little disingenuously.
“You get to meet a lot of nice people,” Kyra said, putting the drink in front of Petra. Another pat answer.
“And a lot of jerks, too.” Farr’s tone was tart. “Especially after a few drinks.”
Kyra laughed. “A few, but management has diplomatic yet firm ways to deal with them.”
“Have you worked here long?” Petra continued her quiz.
“Eight years.” For some reason, that suddenly sounded like a long time, as though bartending had become her career choice.
“And the same at the after-care center?”
“Not quite as long there. It took me a couple of years to find them.” Or rather to find the ad offering a free apartment in South Harlem in return for cooking for kids on a tiny budget. “I consider myself lucky to have that job. The kids bring me such joy.” And occasionally broke her heart with their life stories. But at least she felt like she was helping them in a very concrete way. “Now I’m even getting to love their dogs.”
“The K-9 Angelz,” Farr said, popping a beignet into his mouth and making appreciative noises.
“You were paying attention at the party,” Kyra said, pleased. She explained the program to Petra, who was instantly enthusiastic.
“Now I’m even cooking for the dogs,” Kyra joked. “This giant pit bull who looks like he could eat an entire cow has a sensitive stomach. Go figure!”
Farr and Petra laughed, and then Kyra got busy with a surge of customers, so she didn’t have a chance to do more than briefly check in with them for half an hour.
But she had been watching the two of them as she worked, something she did as a bartender anyway to see whether her customers needed another drink, as well as to gauge their satisfaction and how inebriated they were. Her body language skills had been honed to a fine edge behind the bar at Stratus.
Farr felt more than friendship for Petra. It showed in the tiny, solicitous touches he gave her, in the way he bent his head close to listen to her, and in the protective way he draped his arm over the back of her bar chair. Kyra’s heart twisted. Sh
e didn’t know Farr well, but she respected Will’s judgment when it came to friends, so she hated to see him suffer unrequited devotion. Why did Petra continue to chase after a man who didn’t want her when there was one who clearly did?
Will had given Kyra the answer. Farr was only of average height, had medium-brown hair that had begun to recede, and tended toward pudginess. His career in investment banking was impressive by most standards but couldn’t compete with Will’s stratospheric wealth and position. For Petra, Farr’s honeyed southern accent and utter devotion wouldn’t make up for his perceived shortcomings.
Petra was an idiot.
When she finally got back to them, Petra had finished her second Cosmo, so she ordered another.
Farr tried to talk her out of it, but his date insisted. “They taste so-o-o-o good.”
Kyra met Farr’s gaze with a rueful shrug. She couldn’t stop adult customers from drinking more than they should unless they became a nuisance. But this indicated that Petra’s excessive drinking at the Spring Fling couldn’t be laid entirely at Will’s door, which should relieve him.
As Kyra muddled more ginger, Petra leaned forward, her chin propped on one graceful hand, her eyes slightly clouded with alcohol. “I have a question for you.”
Kyra looked up with a smile. Petra had been peppering her with questions all evening, but it was kind of flattering. “Shoot.”
“Are you in love with Will?”
The muddler hit the cocktail shaker with a loud clank as it slipped from Kyra’s fingers. “Um, I’ve only seen him twice since college, so I’d say not.”
“You can fall in love instantly,” Petra said, nodding vigorously so that her hand moved with her chin. “And Will is so easy to love.”
Without meaning to, Kyra glanced at Farr and saw the pain in his eyes before he looked down into his drink. “Will’s a great guy. Always has been,” Kyra said, finding her poise again and pouring vodka into the shaker with a flourish.
“He brought you to the party,” Petra said. “The last time he brought a date to the party, it was me.” A tear slid over her perfect cheekbone.
Second Time Around (Second Glances) Page 16