by Melissa Blue
“You like to put me in a square peg.” He closed the packet. “Why? Does it make you comfortable to be around me if you can?”
To herself Abigail could admit she couldn’t peg him and that drove her a little mad. She couldn’t predict his next move and prepare a parry. He flew under her radar, and she didn’t like it, but she wasn’t going to confess to him.
“You like to think of yourself as mysterious. You’ve let your family believe you do only God knows what for money, and that you have a bunch of little Drew’s walking around. Why?” She threw back at him. “You led me to believe it, too.”
Drew stretched out his legs, crossing them at the ankle. “They assume I’m something I’m not. Wouldn’t it be a sign of insecurity if I go around reassuring them of who I am? If they can’t be bothered to know me, then I’d rather not be bothered with them, period.”
Drew sat in her office, and not in the one Jim had offered as a loan. He wanted to be bothered with her. The idea chaffed…and sent a flutter of excitement through her. He wanted her to know the real him. It meant he had a long game stashed somewhere in that devious brain of his. But why did it matter to Drew what she thought of him? It was the part that chaffed, because it meant she didn’t know him. Again, flying under the radar and driving her mad.
“See,” Abigail said, “I think you get a kick out of misleading people. Doesn’t make any sense why you would. Be you. Everyone else can take it or leave it.”
He pressed his tongue against the inside of his cheek for a moment. “Are you exactly who you act to be?”
“I don’t act.”
He sighed and gave her an exasperated glare. “Yes, you do. Ever since I showed up you’ve wanted to question me about everything in my professional and personal life, but you’re hesitant because asking means something you can’t begin to define.” He shook his head. “Not to mention, before yesterday, you couldn’t fathom me holding down a steady job. Much less an honest job. Though you were intrigued and probably charmed by the idea of me teetering on the brink of the unrighteous side of law. You, like many women, have a thing for bad boys.”
Abigail actively ignored most of his statement. “What else was I supposed to think when you tell everyone you’re in sales?”
He straightened, leaned forward. “Most people would think I was in advertising or marketing. Door to door salesman. You think drug dealer. That says more about you than it does me. And,” he scoffed, “Greg used to tell me what you did with your friends. You’re not the responsible, staid adult you act to be.”
He had her there. “I can have facets,” she said.
“So do I. But like I said, you’d rather stamp square peg on my forehead and march ahead with the assumption. Why?”
Cautious, she answered, “At the time, when I was with Greg, I didn’t want his right hand man to be someone he’d have to bail out of jail in the middle of the night.”
He tilted his head. “That has a bit of the truth wrapped around it.”
“What truth?”
He hesitated and then nodded. “You couldn’t believe Greg, the perfect man of your dreams, would be best friends with someone like me. It screwed with your ideal of the man who wanted to marry you.”
A pang of regret strummed through her chest. Drew hadn’t said the man you wanted to marry as though the engagement happened to her. Like being struck by a car when you cross a street. Damn, if he wasn’t right. The proposal had thrown her, and it shouldn’t have. From the outset Greg had never lied about his intentions of getting married one day. It had never occurred to Abigail she might be the one Greg wanted to marry. After the shock had worn off, it felt wrong. Not just him for her, but her for him.
Drew picked up on the indecision and said what she’d feared. Even if he hadn’t, eventually Abigail would have seen agreeing to marry Greg was a mistake. But when would she have seen it for herself?
God. She desperately wanted to be the woman who wouldn’t kick out the ex-fiancée crashing the wedding. Invitation or no, showing up had been crashing. No one had expected her to actually come. And if the shoe was on the other foot? She’d kick the ex out faster than the wind could blow. She wasn’t kind or soft, and probably would never be that kind of a person. That kind of person could be what someone else needed. It sucked. It made her head and heart hurt, and she wouldn’t be thinking this morosely about her personality if Drew hadn’t brought the past up. They had a meeting to go to where she would have to encourage her team to come up with stellar ideas for the Lancaster’s account. She had to put on the face of confidence. Abigail knew it was irrational, but she would lay blame at Drew’s feet.
He sat back in an insolent yet relaxed position. “Forget it.”
“What?” Abigail never said she wasn’t contrary.
“You’ve got that look like everything’s my fault. You had it when I pointed out you weren’t really happy with Greg. You wore it on Saturday when your friend Sasha kept flirting with me.”
“You make it sound like I’m deranged.”
“In denial. You said deranged.”
She couldn’t muster up enough righteous anger and the laugh spilled out unguarded. “You do, you really do get a kick out of acting lazy and a lush, but you want to talk about me being in denial? I’m starting to think—”
“Don’t.” He shook his head. “Wait until you know more about me before making any assumptions. I thought that’s what this conversation was about. What you believe me to be and how it’s wrong.”
“I thought this conversation was about how you believe you know everything about me.”
He shrugged a shoulder. “But, I do, Abby.”
His statement wrapped around her and felt deliciously warm. She was attracted to the certainty in not only his words, but him and the possibility he did know the real Abigail.
Bad, bad, bad idea.
The intercom buzzed. “Everyone’s in the conference room ready and roaring to go.”
“You don’t have to impress him,” Abigail said. “That’s my cross to bear.”
Her assistant snorted and cut off the intercom.
“You have a way of making a guy feel welcome.”
Glad the moment had passed, she smiled at Drew. “I know.”
Chapter Six
Drew stopped at the door to the conference room. “I should tell you I’m going to break up the team into two. Since I’m fair, I’ll let you get first pick.”
“What?” she rasped.
He answered by walking into the conference room. She passed him, and in a harsh whisper said, “You could have told me.”
Drew pretended to be affronted, but kept his voice low. “You were too busy maligning my character. You looked like you were having fun. Didn’t want to interrupt.”
Bitterness filled his mouth, and he couldn’t wholly direct his anger at Abigail. She’d seen Drew as he needed her to see him: the loafer, the lush, the womanizing cousin. The persona ensured and strengthened the boundaries that should never be crossed. A few days couldn’t undo a few years work. The honest truth, the man he let her see back then had a basis in truth. Yet, the type of person he could have become as a teen had nothing to do with the man he was.
He sighed, brushed the matter aside for the moment and took in the room. A good portion of her team was made up from advertising along with sales and the creative team. The last two were part of marketing and promotion. Six all together, he knew three were on loan, all looking at him with wary expressions. He strode to the front of the room and let his smile start the process of putting them at ease.
The first lesson he’d learned in consulting, never start the conversation with a grim expression. Plus, it was simple common sense.
“Good afternoon. I haven’t been introduced to some of you, but I’ll start first. I’m Drew Carter and I’m a consultant. What I’ll be doing here for the next couple of weeks will improve your sales and client satisfaction.”
He left out the part about possible layoffs. Inf
ormation like that never gave you the person’s best work. What you usually received was crap produced out of desperation. So, Drew nodded to the man closest to his right. Older, a mustache covered most of his face and he’d gone without a jacket. A drawing pad sat open in front of him. “Michael, Creative.”
From there the rest of the room followed. Janice, Creative. George, Advertising. Stephen, Marketing. Abigail had situated herself in the chair behind Nancy from Advertising, but she only watched him. Her impassive features told him nothing. The pin-straight ebony strands glossed in the fluorescent light. The angular jawline softened at her chin. He smiled to himself. Probably the only soft thing she allowed anyone to see. A crazy thought to have while people waited to hear his brilliant plan.
He cleared his throat and dropped the bomb. “The best way to know your strengths and weaknesses is to work against them or make things work in spite of them. You’ll be split into two teams. I’ll be the leader of one and Abigail will be the other.”
Stephen leaned back with a grin. “What’s the prize? Has to be one.”
Young, ambitious and cocky. The man’s entire closet probably cost more than he made in a year. Stephen would like the idea of winning.
“The campaign the client chooses will win bragging rights.” The people in the room groaned, and he laughed. “Also, a grand each from my own money.”
With that announcement Abigail leaned forward. “You must be quite sure of yourself.”
“I am,” Drew said. “You pick first.”
Leslie, from promotions spoke up. “I’m the only one for promotions.”
Drew shrugged. “You’ll work in tandem with both teams. Think of it this way—you’ll be getting a guaranteed grand. If, which isn’t likely, my team loses, they won’t get a dime, but you will.”
Leslie’s dimples winked. “I think I like you already.”
“Bribery,” Abigail threw at him, but her eyes gleamed from the challenge.
“She’ll be putting the product in the customers’ hands.” He crossed his arms. “But first we’ll go over what we have now. Paint me a clear picture. This will be a normal meeting, except afterward I’ll get in contact with my team to set up further sessions.” He nodded to Abigail. “Pick.”
She picked all the members of her core team without any hesitation. This time he said, “So sure of yourself?”
“It’s a team I already put together. I know they can do what the clients need. They have before and will again. No offense to the others.”
Drew checked the reaction of the other members, the ones she loaned from time to time. There wasn’t a flinch and not because they didn’t respect Abigail. He’d seen them with her. If he didn’t already have a thing for her, he would have now.
“You hear that?” Drew said to the room. “Can’t buy respect from your boss. All right. Michael and Nancy, tell me what you’ve got so far.” He leaned against the table and listened for the next hour. By the end of it, he was impressed by what they already had. It was damn close to what the client envisioned, but he saw the hole. He made sure to get his teams’ contact information before they filed out of the room.
Abigail stayed seated, tilted her head and frowned at him.
He moved to her, sure to keep a comfortable distance. “What are you thinking?”
“You’re smooth. You didn’t come across as aggressive. You didn’t state your way will be the only good way. Though, you’re cocky.”
“Some jobs you can’t come across as meek, but there’s also no need for me to beat my chest. The point is to get both teams thinking about a different way of doing things. When you become familiar with people, you get stuck in a cow path.”
Looking amused, she said, “And it helps when you pave the way with charm and money as a prize.”
“It’s effective, and it costs me nothing.” He shrugged. “The grand each is part of my fee. I get paid an outrageous fee and parting with some of it…” He shrugged again.
Abigail shook her head and chuckled. “Like I said, smooth.” She hesitated, “I’m impressed.”
“But not convinced I’m going to win?”
“I have to beat you, or I’ll lose my team.” She sighed. “Sit, because I hate that you’re looming.”
Drew pulled out the chair in front of Abigail. This setting felt better. There wasn’t a desk or antagonism to keep a wall between them.
“This is me calling a truce,” Abigail said.
He spread out his hands. “There’s no reason for one.”
“So you’d rather we keep butting heads? We want the same thing. For this consulting job of yours to work,” Abigail added. “My team looks good. I look good for working with you amicably. I keep my team. You get paid and ride off into the sunset.”
“True.” He kept his gaze locked with hers.
“But,” she said, “I feel one coming. You want more.”
He shrugged. “Friendship would be nice.”
“Friendship?” She looked and sounded skeptical.
“Yes, have nice things to say to each other.” He tapped his fingers on the chair’s arm. “Have inside jokes.”
“And I’m sure, go out too?”
He measured his words. The opportunity he wanted was knocking and he refused to screw it up. “I think if we ever met up somewhere, we’d have a good time.”
“Friendship…and that’s it?”
Her tone made him grin. “And I won’t even ask you to sign in blood or give me your first born.”
“Friends.” Again, she tilted her head and gazed at Drew as if seeing him for the first time. “How many other women do you have friendships with?”
He kept the laugh in check. “Let me break out my phone and I’ll check all the female contacts. This may take awhile.”
“Exactly what I thought.” She crossed her arms.
Drew leaned to the side and pulled his phone out of the slack’s pocket. He placed it on the table between them to let her see for herself. Taking up the challenge, she began to scroll through and, likely, not just his contacts. He waited patiently knowing what Abigail would find and knowing that she’d still have suspicion.
“One. Keri. I know the other name, Marilyn, is your oldest cousin. Also, you don’t delete text messages. Or media mail. Don’t you hate the ones ’if you love me you’ll send it back?’”
Her answer surprised him, and it fed the attraction to her. Abigail didn’t always say and do exactly as he expected. She was confident and passionate. She was a lot of things and what he didn’t know, he wanted to uncover. The only way to get her to put down her guard was to offer friendship.
“You say I don’t know you,” he said. “Let me get to know you and you can do the same. I think we could get along pretty well.”
“Just friends?” She paused and then added, “No funny business?”
He glanced at her, attempting to appear full of innocence. “Are you asking me if I will keep your virtue intact?”
She narrowed her gaze. “I’m saying if, a big one, we do go out as friends, you won’t try to …” She rolled her hands in the air, likely, to indicate funny business.
The smile was slow coming, but it spread across his face. “I must write this down. Abigail Johnson is at a loss for words.”
“Not a loss,” she said slowly. “Confused about where this came from. I can get why you flirt. You’re good at it and you do it shamelessly. This is a different speed.”
“Flirting is a form of flattery. It’s harmless if done right. I flirted with you and your friends at the wedding and the reception.” He shrugged, unapologetic. “But, I take who I befriend seriously. You won’t lie to me about the important stuff and maybe if we knew each other better, you wouldn’t feel the need to lie about the little things either.”
She shifted in the chair. “Calling me a liar isn’t the way to go.”
Drew edged closer when he said, “Look me in the eye and tell me you don’t hold me, just a little bit, accountable for the break be
tween you and Greg.”
“I don’t,” she said, but didn’t look at him. “Anyway, I’ll think about your offer.”
“Lunch?” He counter-offered to keep Abigail on her toes.
She laughed. “I said time to think. That was seconds.”
“Time is relative. Shouldn’t be hard to decide whether or not you want to go to lunch with me. If after that you don’t want friendship, fine. We’ll work together and that’s it.”
A long moment passed as she bit her lip and looked at him with a narrowed gaze, but she finally agreed. It took everything in him to fight back the grin.
Chapter Seven
They stepped out the office building to a cool, early autumn breeze. The air felt good against her bare arms. The sleeveless, green-silk blouse crossed the line for work, but while in the office the jacket covered it. Now, lunch—and so not a first date—with Drew foregoing the buttoned-up appearance seemed appropriate.
The noon hour had changed the pace of comers and goers, and people in their business wear hurried in and out of the offices lined up on both sides of the street.
“Where to?” Drew had also left his jacket in her office. He stood with his hands in his pockets, taking in the street in an unhurried manner.
“There’s this Mexican place. We can grab something quick.” She turned in the direction of the restaurant and waited for the argument.
“Ok.”
She gave him a sidelong glance, but he was still enamored with the scenery. “So, what do male-female friends talk about?”
“My other female friend, and even my cousin, confide in me about their relationships. What’s going in their life in general. You know, hash over our feelings unlike my male counterparts,” he said in a dry tone.
“No need to be sarcastic. I don’t have any so I don’t know the protocol.”
“Not one male friend?” He shortened his stride to match hers.
She frowned at the action, but answered his question. “Not a one. There’s Sasha and Emma. Trust me, they’re a handful in the friends’ department.”