Making over Maya (Hot Tide Book 2)

by Michele De Winton

  The sigh was more resigned than Dom would have liked. If this was going to work the woman needed more fight in her than this.

  “I haven’t really told her, or anyone, how I feel about him. I just thought—we’d been spending so much time together and all the signs pointed to him being interested. See, this is stupid. I’m so sorry you’ve heard even a sliver of this. Could we maybe forget it?”

  “So when you tell her, there’s no way she’d go for it?”

  “She’s my best friend. She wouldn’t touch him if she thought there was a chance I’d get hurt over it. But I’m not going to tell her.”

  “Yes you are.”

  Maya’s eyes widened. “No. I’m not. Like I said, they might make a great couple. He might be just what she needs.”

  “I thought he was just what you needed.”

  Her little pout was cute, if she could add in a touch of ironic glare, it would almost be sexy.

  “And what if it turned out that he did actually like you?”

  This time the sigh was wistful and that slight twisting in his gut made Dom frown again. Whatever.

  “He’ll never see me as anything more than a buddy and a PR manager. And I mean why would he? He’s gorgeous, has beautiful women hunting him down night and day and to top it all off he’s a consistent performer on the circuit. Solid. Reliable, charming. After this series he’ll likely be loaded too. The man deserves someone better than me.”

  “Enough with the pity party already. I seemed to have misjudged you. Tell me you’re not the best in the business, that if anyone wants something done they shouldn’t come to you, that you can smell a sponsorship opportunity at a hundred paces.”

  Her smile was sincere, but lacked the warmth he’d been hoping for. She managed a nod though.

  “So why haven’t you asked him out?”

  She waved a hand at him. “We’re practically colleagues. I work with him a lot.”

  “I thought you worked with all the best people. A lot.”

  “I do.”

  “And you work with this woman, Brooke was it, all the time, yet she’s your best friend?”

  Maya breathed out. “I work with Abby too. The two of them are the best friends a girl could want.”

  “So it’s not such a big deal if you get together with Prince Surfalot. Look, I’ve been this guy; been so busy with work that I ignored the cues a hundred beautiful women were throwing my way. If you really want him, you have to show him what he’s missing out on. And show him big. When he realizes you’re as flat out hot as a lizard drinking, he’ll come running back to you.”

  “Did you just call me a lizard?”

  He shrugged. “It’s an Australian thing.”

  That did it, Maya snorted. “Did you not hear anything I just said?”

  “About you liking him and him totally missing all your signals?”

  She nodded.

  “Yeah I heard it. I just don’t think it really means what you think it means.”

  “It means that this conversation is pointless and we shouldn’t be having it.”

  “But you never answered my question.”

  Maya paused. “Sorry. Which one?”

  “The, what if he actually did like you one?”

  “He doesn’t.”

  “Maybe he does but he figures you’d never go for him. Or maybe he does but he doesn’t know it yet. We’ve dealt with the I-work-with-him issue. Have you ever thought that as a bright young emancipated woman, you could be the one asking him out?”

  The blush wasn’t helped by the flat shade of her grey shirt, but Dom could tell that if she was wearing another color, dusky rose perhaps, the slight flush in her cheeks would probably be all sorts of pretty. That’s what came from working in the fashion industry for so long.

  “Well?” he asked as the pause lengthened.

  “I don’t know what I’d do.”

  He pursed his lips. “You don’t know what you’d do if he liked you?”

  Her nod was barely discernable.

  Narrowing his eyes he took in the out-of-kilter state of her wardrobe again. PR genius she might well be, but sparkling surf princess she was not. “You date other guys though right?”

  She shrugged, her head going down again and letting that damn hair fall into her face.

  “Oh. Smart when it comes to work, but put a pretty man in the room, even a metaphorical one, and look what happens? I can’t work with someone like that.”

  Her head shot up. “But, you said I had to tell you. I only told you all this because you made it quite clear that if I didn’t fess up you wouldn’t trust me with your business. God I’m such an idiot. You’ve listened to me prattle on and now—”

  It was all he could do to not put his finger on her lips to still her but Dom managed to stop at putting a hand on her shoulder. “I will work with you. But there will be conditions.”

  As the idea took shape, Dom was impressed with his ability to turn this madness into something quite so neat. Really? You’re going to pat yourself on the back for using the woman’s problems? Hardly, he was helping them both out. Just because he got exactly what he wanted out of it for Wolfe Clothing, assuaged his guilt about not being a better big brother and she came out feeling like he was a proverbial knight in shiny shiny armor didn’t mean it wasn’t a good idea.

  His shoulders broadened as he smiled in satisfaction. “You teach me all there is to know about surf sponsorship. Who’s who, what the kids are really into these days, what they should be into and why no one has gone there yet. If you do your job right, help me get the best possible face for my brand, and create the perfect PR campaign, you get a nice fat sponsorship contract with Wolfe Clothing, standard terms. But because I’m expecting inside secrets, all the tricks of your trade, and for you to sort out any issues in my favor no matter what, I’ll help you out too. I’ll help you win Mr. Prince Surfalot. Although once we’ve sorted him out, he won’t be Mr. Prince Surfalot, he’ll be Mr. Maya Taylor.”

  Maya’s face was a picture of disbelief. Wide eyes, open mouth, tight shoulders.

  “What? No one ever offered to help you out before?”

  “Not the CEO of a major fashion company. No.”

  He shrugged. “Like I say, it’s a win win. And when I say I want all the tricks of the trade, I mean the real inside nasty stuff. I know you PR types like to keep it shiny, but if I’m going to get Wolfe Clothing back into the black and stop ZeeMen carving up my market share in this segment, I need to know what I’m up against. And I need to know how to deal with them before I have to deal with them again.”

  “Isn’t that what you hire people like me for?”

  “It is. But I don’t know you yet and I can’t take any chances on this rebrand. I’ve learnt the best way for that to happen is for me to be hands on, at least at the start.”

  “Fair enough.” The disbelief and shock had melted away and the glittery steel of her earlier determination was back in her eyes. “You’ve got yourself a deal. On both counts. I’ll put you in my diary for tomorrow morning at ten and we can spend an hour going through the who’s who to start with. I’ll meet you at the beach.”

  He shook his head. “No. An hour won’t be long enough. I’ve got a suite overlooking the beach. I’ll get you a key and you can meet me there. I know you’ll have a few meetings you won’t be able to get out of but I expect total commitment from all my staff. So plan on giving me your full attention for at least three hours tomorrow.”

  Maya moved to the very edge of the sofa. “Is this how you always do business?”

  “Hardly. But we don’t have much time. Your surf competitors aren’t here long and I need this rebrand happening yesterday. We can look at the talent from my suite and work at the same time.” It made good business sense. Mostly.

  Maya’s phone pinged into life. She didn’t move.

  “Aren’t you going to get that?”

  Her blush flared again. “It’s just a text.”

  “An
d you don’t answer your text messages? I thought you PR types jumped on all forms of communication. What if it’s someone important?”

  “I know who it is.”

  He had to lean in to hear what she’d said. Then he suddenly twigged. “Personal tone?”

  She nodded.

  “It’s him isn’t it?”

  Again, she nodded, with an even smaller movement of the head.

  “And?”

  She reached over and glanced at the screen then took in a deep breath as she looked at the ceiling. Dom reached over and grabbed the phone. Hey babes. Napkin and surf wax got into a fight. Could i get Brooke’s digits again? Thanks, you’re a star.

  Dom would have rolled his eyes but didn’t want his disdain for the guy she obviously had on a pedestal make Maya turn down the offer to work with him on Wolfe Clothing. He did need to get to work as quickly as possible, and if she was as good as he suspected she might be, he wanted her giving him her complete attention. How complete? Whatever. She was about as different from his usual type as it was possible to be. This was a work deal. “Need me to tell you what to text back?”

  “No. I can do that.”

  “Good. I’ll help you, you help me. Let’s get to work.” He didn’t bother to hold back the grin. He’d made it plain what he wanted and it was all on track. What wasn’t there to smile about? “You can tell me who the hell those two fashion bloggers are for starters. Why have I not heard of either of them?”

  She laughed, a real laugh, and Dom was surprised at how fresh it made her look. First things first, they were going to have to get her out of that brutal grey ensemble if he was going to be seen with her. And she was going to have to start smiling a whole lot more.

  Chapter Three

  Dream deal? Much? Maya looked at the door as it closed after Dominic Wolfe and couldn’t quite believe what had just happened. Whatever fairy godmother had decided to bestow the CEO of a major fashion chain on her deserved more than a nice block of chocolate. That particular fairy goddess needed a full three course dinner with champagne and two helpings of dessert.

  Maya took a deep breath as she pondered the timing. Maybe a little objectivity was just what she needed at the moment. Separate work from personal business, profit from pleasure? Rick from reality?

  Grabbing her laptop from the table, Maya flicked back to the Our People page of the Wolfe Clothing site. Dominic Wolfe, thirty and already a multi-squillionaire. That’d be nice. Once she had his campaign sorted and had pocketed the bonus, she was going to be doing alright too. Not a squillionaire, but she was going to be able to afford the place of her own she’d been saving for all this time. That part of her plan looked like it might be back on track within her timeline. She had one more month on tour, then she’d be back in the States, working with her clients and their sponsors for next year’s campaign.

  Giving herself a little hug, she pictured the studio apartment in California she’d always hankered for. Somewhere she’d finally be able to call home for once in her life. Somewhere she and her partner could use as a base while they built their combined lives into something solid enough to take the next step. The house, kids, dog and happily ever after step. A step Dominic seemed sure she was going to be including Rick in.

  She scanned Dominic’s bio but didn’t learn anything she didn’t already know. Whoever had done Dominic’s company PR had made sure he kept his private life private. The only tidbit that might be of use later, was that he’d left school at the ripe old age of sixteen and had built his company on the back of hard work, determination and—she reread the last line—sausages? Ha that seemed like the most Australian thing possible. Dominic had run a chain of beach-front gourmet BBQ stands to raise the capital to start his own fashion line. The snort that emerged was neither elegant nor feminine and she slapped a hand over her mouth. Who was she to judge how the guy got started? Australians loved their BBQs as much as Americans loved hotdogs. Maybe even more. What mattered was where he was now. And that was on the beach, demanding her attention and promising a big fat pay check.

  Putting his name into google images she flicked through his out and about partners out of force of habit. A good PR girl was a well-informed one. There were plenty of snaps of him at clubs, with beautiful, elegant women on his arm. LOTS of beautiful, elegant, tall women, and one in particular who appeared more often than others. The little ripple of disappointment startled her. Whatever. Flicking through the images she came across one of him by himself dressed in casual clothes instead of a suit. She stared at the picture on screen.

  Corn-blue eyes with an even darker blue rim stared out at her with a look of pure concentration that she found a little unnerving, as if he was still in the room with her. If he’d soften his gaze, he’d rival plenty of the surf boys on her books for smexy appeal. But then he obviously didn’t care what she thought of his looks, not if he’d offered to help her land Rick. He was someone who knew how to control a room, and to win the women in it. She sighed again and gazed over at where he’d left the bottle of gin. She’d planned a nice evening of feeling sorry for herself. Just this once. And Dominic had gone and stolen it by filling her head up with—with what exactly?

  There was a knock at the door and she jumped. Surely Dominic wasn’t back already with more demands? She glanced around the room. He hadn’t left anything obvious behind. Cracking the door open she was surprised at the slump somewhere around the middle of her chest when Summer and Brooke’s faces appeared. Maya dismissed the sensation and waved her girlfriends in.

  “Summer kicked ass. Again. I merely patted some fine ass on the fine ass.” Brooke swung herself onto the couch and spying the gin bottle grabbed it. “Got any tonic to go with this?”

  “You’re in training.” Maya tried to be stern but Brooke’s face was too perky to keep it up and anyway, her pity party had been interrupted, she was due a drink or ten. Brooke could take care of herself. “Hang on.” She returned with three glasses and the tonic she’d started earlier.

  “Hey, May.” Summer put a hand on Maya’s shoulder. “You’ve been crying.”

  Damn. That didn’t take long. “Just allergies.”

  “Whatever. I call BS on that, spill.” Brooke might lack subtlety but sometimes a little dose of straight up was exactly what Maya needed. She gazed at the two women and couldn’t believe she’d managed to go so long without telling them everything about Rick. Time to fess up, especially if she really was going to take up Dom’s offer of help. And are you? That was something she wasn’t quite ready to decide yet. Two years of pining after a guy was a long time to let go in one afternoon. Whether she could kiss goodbye to all that unrequited lust depended a lot on Brooke. Maya looked carefully at her girlfriend for signs that she might already know what had brought on the waterworks. Or for a sign that Rick had called and asked her out on a date.

  Nope. Nothing.

  “Uh, hello? You’re staring at me and it’s weird. Something’s got under your skin so spill. And don’t think you can PR us. We’ll know.”

  Summer nodded her assent and Maya took a deep breath before launching into the whole, depressing story of Rick Hunter. For a change she didn’t leave anything out or try and finesse the situation to make it slightly less awkward.

  Brooke’s face was a picture of incredulity. “For two years?”

  Maya nodded.

  “And you never told us?” Summer said quietly.

  Again, Maya nodded.

  “But you gave him my number after a couple of minutes?”

  The shrug belied the way her heart had practically imploded in her chest as she’d written out Brooke’s number. Brooke’s number. “Oh crap. He just texted me for it again but I forgot to text him back.”

  “Seriously, B?” Brooke’s voice was full of distain. “You think that I would swoop in on someone you’ve been crushing on like forever?”

  “Not forever.”

  “Two years is forever. And don’t avoid the real issue.”

  “Y
eah, what she said,” Summer chipped in.

  “I just thought that maybe he was right. You know, that you could use a little stability in your life. The two of you might be a perfect fit.”

  “Babe, have you met me?” Brooke said with a look of vague revulsion on her face. “He is so not my type. I’m sure he’s nice and all but—”

  Summer leapt in. “The real question is whether you want to let go. You might rationally think he’s a perfect match for Brooke, although I’d question your sanity there, but if you’ve had a thing for him for two years there’s gotta be something more there. Am I right?”

  Was she? Maya tried to do an internal x-ray of her heart but came up blank.

  “Forget him. He obviously has great taste and everything, I mean, what’s not to like.” Brooke ran her hands down her toned and tanned body. “But only a douchebag asks for a girl’s number from her girlfriend instead of going to the source.”

  Summer put a hand on Brooke’s arm but looked at Maya. “It’s not that simple. It’s not like he knew you had a crush on him. Did he?”

  Maya shook her head. Rick had the whole package. The looks of course, but also the career she could make something of, the brand that she could take to a whole different level. And he was sensible. Safe. Together they’d make the perfect couple. A happily ever after couple with a happily ever after life. Unlike the one she’d had growing up.

  “If you still like him, really like him, we’ll support you. Won’t we Brooke?” Summer nudged her friend. “But promise you’re not going after him because you think he’ll be all safe and solid. I know your dad screwed stuff up for you as a kid, but that doesn’t mean you should seek out men cos you think they’ll be the antithesis of him.”

  Maya tried to not let her eyes bulge. Best friends who knew her were one thing, girlfriends who could read her mind? Freaky didn’t even begin to cover it.

  “Just because he comes across squeaky clean doesn’t mean he won’t have any skeletons in his undies-drawer. Just remember that, okay? He’s a big boy who can look after himself, he doesn’t need you looking out for his every move.” Summer’s voice was as gentle as her appearance but there was steel underneath her every word. “And don’t shut us out again. Promise?”