Vincent doesn’t say anything, so I take that as my cue to open the door and get out of the car. A wooden split-rail, ranch-style fence surrounds a green field of grass. A long paved walkway adjacent to the fence runs toward the back of the field. Three canopies rise in the distance. Two more canopies are on the other side of the fence at both ends of the grand-stand seating. The one closest to the entrance is the media center. Linda is waiting for me at the entrance. She’s talking to Keith, the guy from the meeting, who doesn’t look happy to see Vincent and me exit the limo together.
“You’re the one he was waiting around for?” Keith says under his breath when I reach them.
I ignore him. “Are you ready?” I ask Linda.
“As I’ll ever be,” she replies.
Keith stays close as we walk the event site, paying attention to where and how the A&Rt banners and signs are displayed. We also note what we could’ve done differently. Lena is running around like a chicken with her head cut off. I take the polo field, the stands, and the media area off her hands to alleviate her burden.
The four hours that we have to set up fly by. I’m finishing up the media area when the guests start to arrive. The TV crews, comprised of entertainment shows, are already rolling, interviewing celebrity guests. After Paula La Nora, one of those chicks who’s famous for no reason at all, is interviewed, I ask the crew if they would mind moving a little to the right so they can capture the A&Rt banner. After I flash a Hannah Rossi flirtatious smile, they do as I ask, figuring there’s no harm in it.
I happen to glance behind me and see Vincent standing beside the woman he left the building with yesterday. She’s in a blue dress that fits her like a glove. Her style is elegant yet sexy. They look like the perfect couple. Vincent is talking to her but looking at me, confirming that he’s one of those people who stare without realizing it. Now that I see them together, the pressure is off. Whatever’s going on in his head has nothing to do with him wanting me romantically.
I can stop fantasizing about him. But I can’t watch him standing there all cozy with her either. I decide to blow the scene. I take the path behind the bleachers.
The polo players are riding onto the field. It’s a sight that I simply can’t turn away from. They resemble men galloping into battle, except they’re the most stylish soldiers I’ve ever seen. Lots of them are dark-haired and handsome. I find myself taking a moment to appreciate how stunning they look sitting on top of those strong, graceful horses.
“Maggie,” Vincent calls from behind me.
I’m already familiar with the sound of his voice. When I face him, he’s close.
“Yes,” I say in my formal, not-going-to-cross-any-lines voice.
“I saw what you did back there. Good work.”
“Thank you, Vincent.”
He gives me that look again, as though he has something else to say.
“Is that it?” I ask.
“Why Robert?” he asks out of the blue.
He’s managed to confuse the hell out of me again. “Why Robert what?”
“Why did you like him?”
Ah, I see. My long-ago crush on Robert is the source of the awkward tension he’s created between us. “I don’t know. Who knows why you like who you like when you’re seventeen?”
“There must be some reason that you preferred him.”
I frown. “Over who? Over you?”
His lips part as if he’s stunned.
“I’m sorry, was that too direct?” I ask. Sometimes Cleo creeps into my brain and makes my mouth say whatever it’s thinking.
“No. Yes. Not over me but over anyone.”
I release a deep breath. If an answer will make him act normal around me, I’ll give him one. “He was cute and nice.” I shrug. “And, I don’t know, genuine, I guess.”
“And I wasn’t?”
I’m so damn confused. “What happened? Did he steal your girlfriend or something? It’s just very odd that you’re asking me this.”
He stares into my eyes with his lips parted like he’s trying to come up with the right words.
Lena steps up and takes him by the arm. “Vincent, you’re going to have to get on your mark. It’s almost time to present the donation before the match.” She looks from him to me and back to him. “Did I interrupt something?”
“No.” Vincent clears his throat. “I was complimenting Maggie on how she handled the media stand.”
“Oh,” Lena says. “You did find a winner in Maggie.” She smiles.
“Indeed,” he says.
“Maggie, Keith has been looking for you. They’re setting up the IK app demonstration booth, and he needs your input.”
“Why does he need her input? She’s not a technician!” Vincent barks before I can respond.
“He needs suggestions on placement and engagement,” Lena replies.
“I’m on it.” I step away before Vincent can object.
I don’t get him. He has a girlfriend, and she’s beautiful. Then he wants to know why I had a crush on Robert Tango and not him? I’m living in wacky world right now.
Once I reach Keith, I immediately identify the problem. “The issue isn’t where the demo booths are; it’s the displays themselves,” I tell him. “Do you see this crowd? They’re highbrow and fashionable. What do you think it’ll take to get one of those ladies out of their seats to stand here and play with a gadget with too many icons to press?”
“Hot male models,” Linda answers.
“And fashion,” I add.
“Well that’s not my job,” Keith grumbles.
“No, it isn’t,” I agree. “But it’s not too late to add those components.”
We rustle up the three cutest technicians and have them go around the tent, asking ladies for a few minutes to demonstrate the app to them. I let the techs know that if they’re struck down, they shouldn’t take it personally. Instead, they should smile, thank the ladies for attending the event, and move on to the next person. No compliments, no flirting, only smile and be pleasant. After an hour, word spreads, and we have lines of women waiting for their turn at the booth.
Vincent and his girlfriend distract me as they walk into the tent with their arms around each other’s waists. They sit at a table, and a woman walks onto the stage and stands behind the microphone. She asks everyone to be seated. Shortly after, three drop-dead gorgeous polo players walk onto the stage.
Linda clenches my arm. “Mama mia.”
I giggle like girls do when stunning boys are in the vicinity.
“You both are into those pretty boys?” Keith asks, grimacing.
“Yep,” we say and giggle.
Once again, Vincent is captivated by our interaction. He’s so engrossed by us that the lady at the microphone has to call his name twice. People clap as he saunters onto the stage. His walk is as graceful as a Clydesdale’s.
I realize why I never paid much attention to him in high school. He’s too perfect. Denver made me rebel against perfection. I found his face, walk, athletic build, and superior status amongst the hierarchy of his peers nauseating. For some odd reason, I saw Robert as his pawn, an unsuspecting victim who had no idea that the world was flat, and Vincent was the one withholding the truth from him. I think I despised him back then, and therefore ignored him. Now he’s the cream that rose to the top.
“I was wondering if you wanted to go to dinner tonight?” Keith whispers in my ear.
“No thank you,” I reply. I’m not interested in him. He’s not bad looking, but as a whole, he’s “meh.”
“How about tomorrow night?”
“No again.”
“The night after that?”
“Give a hand to my team for their work,” Vincent says. He leads the round of applause, looking me dead in the eyes.
His penetrating gaze is more than I can stand, so I pull my cell phone off my hip to pretend I’ve just received a call. I walk off. Right before I exit the tent, I bump into a man’s strong frame. I hit him so hard t
hat my phone flies out of my hand. The man catches me before I crash into the table behind me.
I look into his face and gasp. “Shit.”
It’s Robert Tango.
Vincent stops talking mid-sentence. Robert peels his eyes off me to give Vincent a thumbs-up.
“My business partner, Robert Tango, also appreciates the privilege of being included in this event. Come on up.” Vincent waves him onto the stage.
I’m waiting for Robert to let go of me.
“Aren’t you Maggie Conroy?” he asks in a rush.
I nod spastically. “Yes.”
“Well, I’ll be damned.” He lets go of me and trots onto the stage.
When the Vincent-and-Robert show is over, the two men follow the polo players out onto the field. The spectators file out of the tent and walk to the stands to view the match. This gives me time to figure out what to do next. I watch Lena make her way to me.
“Our work is done here,” she says.
“So can we leave?” I ask.
“But didn’t you ride with Vincent?” Linda asks, stirring the pot. I’m this close to telling her to stay out of it when Lena says, “We have plenty of room in our car. The technicians are going to hang around and make sure everything continues to work. They can ride back with Vincent.”
“Then what are we waiting for? Let’s go,” I say.
Lena tilts her head. “You’re in a hurry…”
I clutch my stomach. “Bad Chinese food. I bought it five days ago and ate it for breakfast. It’s catching up to me.”
At least Lena doesn’t dilly-dally after hearing that. We’re in the car and out of there before I can run into Vincent or Robert again.
Chapter 6
Fresh Powder
I call an emergency meeting with the girls. Cleo’s shooting a late show and will be stuck in editing until the wee hours of the morning. Monroe tells me that after I’d told her I couldn’t meet up with her tonight, she accepted an invitation for dinner and drinks with a Hollywood producer who blew into town last minute. Hannah asks me to meet her on a photo shoot. She’s styling celebrities for the Ten Hottest Actresses edition of Femme Fame Magazine.
I trot the twenty-something odd blocks to Chelsea. I’m nearly hyperventilating after running ten flights of stairs to the top floor.
When Hannah sees me, she clutches her chest. “What the hell happened to you?”
“I know I look like horrible, but I had to hurry up and get here.”
“I’ll be back in thirty,” Hannah shouts to anyone who’s listening.
She collects me, and we take the old elevator to the roof. We sit on a patio sofa.
“I saw Robert Tango,” I reveal.
Hannah ruffles her eyebrows. “Am I supposed to know who the fuck that is?”
“No, but I know who he is! We went to high school together. He was Vincent Adams’s best friend.”
“Who the fuck is that?”
“My boss.”
“Oh. Right.”
“I had a huge crush on Robert back in high school, and I always believed Vincent was the one who convinced him to ignore me. Although, he really never ignored me, but he never did anything about liking me. I’m sure he liked me…”
“Maggie, you’re babbling, and I’m working. Get to it.”
“Okay. He asked me today why I’d liked Robert back then and not him.”
“Who? Vincent?”
“Yes, Vincent.”
“Oh, got it. It’s because he wants to fuck you, and repeatedly.”
I sigh. “Must you and Monroe always be so vulgar?”
“So what? Does Robert Tango want to fuck you too?”
I shake my head. “You’re missing the moral of the story.”
“The only moral to this story is finally! When was the last time you let some guy do your hot body? And don’t roll your eyes at me. Your body is hot as hell. Which one are you going to—”
I point directly in her face. “Don’t you say it.”
She chews on my finger, and I can’t help but laugh.
“He’s going to do this to you, and that to you,” she keeps joking.
On Monday morning, I find a note on my desk asking me to stop by Vincent’s office as soon as I get in. My heart sinks to my knees. Is he going to fire me due to a conflict of interest?
Oh my God! What if he and Robert have been lovers for all these years? That would explain why he’d wanted to know why I was into Robert. The supermodel chick is just a decoy. Men with secrets love getting involved with superficial women. Those women are too self-involved to pay attention to their men’s secrets. Although I can’t tell if his girlfriend is superficial by looking at her, but what if she is?
I snatch the note off my desk and look around my office. I sigh. Something this good never lasts forever. At least I learned what I always knew—I was born to do marketing. I wave to Linda as I pass her desk.
She grins at me. “Good morning, snow bunny.”
I crimp my eyebrows. I want to stop and ask what she means by that but Vincent is standing in his doorway waiting for me.
“You look nice,” he says.
I look down at myself. I’m wearing a plain, no-frills cream dress since I’ve already worn all three of my power suits. It’s great that Monroe is bringing more suits over tonight. I’ll have to make sure whatever she tries to push on me is appropriate for the office.
“Thanks,” I mutter. He’s buttering me up before he sticks me in the oven? “What’s going on?”
“Our flight leaves in an hour.”
I blink. “Our flight?”
“We have a meeting at noon in Aspen.”
“Who is ‘we’?”
“You and I.”
“Just us?”
“Yes.” He slams the door to his office. “The car is waiting.”
“What about Linda or Lena? Shouldn’t one of them go with us?”
“This is your baby, Maggie.”
The scintillating look he gives me makes me forget what I want to ask. I’ve been reduced to nodding stiffly. I widen my eyes as I pass Linda on my way to my office to get my bag and coat.
“Have a safe trip,” she says.
I’m too shocked to say thank you. Then Vincent and I are alone in the elevator. We don’t speak. He’s probably just as nervous as I am. The elevator doesn’t stop once, which never happens in buildings this large. I feel as though I’m in a trance as we walk through the lobby and out into the nippy morning.
We’re alone again in the car on the way to Teterboro. Vincent is on the phone with his assistant, booking meetings and confirming his calendar for the next two weeks. I’m too nervous to work on my computer.
My eyes keep falling to the bulge in his pants. Sex, sex, sex! That’s all I can think about. It’s Hannah’s fault. I can’t get what she said about him wanting to have sex with me out of my head. I mean, does he? That bulge getting anywhere near me is unfathomable. When my gaze finds its way to his face, he’s studying me with a smirk. I look away. Did he see me gawk at his piece?
He hangs up. “So how was your night?”
“Huh?” It’s time to get a grip. “I mean—it was fine. What about yours?”
“Fine.”
I wait for more details or something about me crashing face-first into his best friend and business partner. I want to mention Robert, but Vincent’s cell phone rings.
He has a discussion with someone regarding a new app for one of the company’s publications. He asks what seems like a million questions about market viability of the app. He’s considering going digital-only with the magazine if they can’t create a need for the paper version. Apparently, they’ve gone digital on all but three publications, and that has boosted subscriptions. They’re considering on-demand issuance of paper copies.
He ends the call as soon as we reach the airfield. “I’ll be back,” he says to me.
Vincent hops out of the car. I watch him stride over to the ramp to speak with one of the
ground crew. He points up the ramp, nods, and strides just as gracefully back to the car. He opens my door.
“We can board,” he says.
He puts his hand on my waist as soon as I’m on my feet. His fingers massage me twice before he lets go. I skip a breath. He takes my hand and leads me across the pavement and up the ramp. Once inside, I fall into the first seat I see. Our hands pull apart, and I crave his touch again. He goes into the control center and closes the door.
Now that I’m alone, I can work on centering myself. Maybe I can fall asleep before he comes out. I wish I had a book or something. Instead, I turn on my computer and start a list of venues I should look into for the IK App. But I keep glancing at the door Vincent disappeared behind.
When he returns, he sits in a seat across the aisle from me. “Are you comfortable?”
“Yes,” I squeak. I swallow and try to find my normal voice. “So who are we meeting?” That’s the magic question I should’ve asked earlier.
He fastens his seatbelt. “Darius Shockey. You should put yours on.”
“Oh, right.” I buckle up. “So who is Darius Shockey?”
“He’s the organizer of the event.”
I frown. “Humph.”
“Why do you look so curious?”
I’m distracted by his teeth. They’re two shades lighter than the whites of his eyes. Then it strikes me that the reason I can see his teeth is because he’s flashing that mesmerizing smile. I look down. He’s the boss, he’s the boss, he’s the boss. Not only that, but I’m positive the leggy, slim woman I’ve seen him with is his girlfriend.
“And she ignores me,” he says.
“No, I’m sorry. What did you ask?” I’m setting an unprofessional precedence. “Wait, I remember. My research turned up the name Reginald Champion.”
He’s studying me as if I’m a mental patient. “I see.”
I turn away from that gorgeous face of his and gaze out over the airfield. The engine roars to life. Not long after, the airplane trucks backward. The sound and movement have made the silence between us less awkward. I can’t believe I’m going to have to spend the rest of the day alone with him.
There's Something About Her, A Manhattan Love Story (LOVE in the USA, #2) Page 6