Wanted: Girl I Once Met

by Sonja Gunter

  She’d said, “I’d still like to meet with you.”

  She hadn’t said date. Who was she trying to kid? He hadn’t accepted a date, he’d accepted a business lunch.

  Holy cow, she was definitely rusty on the dating scene.

  As Rane walked to Barnes & Noble for lunch she text messaged Val, to let her know her lunch meeting had been changed to tomorrow. Val’s reply made her laugh.

  Wednesday’s are better sex days. U know, hump day.

  Rane couldn’t think of a good reply so she simply typed.

  Talk 2 U later.

  She ate the soup of the day, chicken, and wild rice, and thought about all the men she’d dated. There weren’t many. There’d been David, her first love. He’d been the only guy she’d dated during her high school years.

  Nick, the truck driver, had come after the divorce and had lasted a full year. He’d been gone too much and was too crude for her taste.

  Then there’d been the banker, Tim, who had promised her the world. She hadn’t known he’d been married until Val had met him and his wife at her office. They’d been looking for a lawyer to write their living will.

  Last, but not least, Kenny, the aspiring poet. A smile easily came across Rane’s face as she remembered him. He’d been so romantic and sweet. But he’d turned out to be a leach and had only wanted someone to support him so he could pursue his poetry.

  Each one had been so different yet the same in one area. They’d all turned out to be scum. She wanted the fairytale love ever after. She wanted children and a lifelong commitment. None of them could’ve given her that or had wanted to. And she wasn’t willing to settle for anything less. The sex part had been simply okay in her book. The next man she dated was going to have to give her a resumé on his sexual prowess.

  She wanted the kind of sex that made you see fireworks, or stars, or feel like you’d died and gone to heaven.

  Grandma Greta was always telling her to be open-minded and someday her knight-in-shining-armor would appear. Her knight would make all her dreams come true. To this day, no man yet had made her feel that special. Her biological clock kept ticking and her knight had better show up soon.

  Chapter 16

  “Mr. Christmenn, are you sure I can’t get your coffee for you?” Mrs. Weber asked.

  “No. Did you see any reports come through?” Mark asked, not expecting an answer. He was trying to use small talk as a smoke screen. He’d found standing next to Mrs. Weber’s desk gave him the best vantage point to see when Rane left her office.

  “No, Mr. Christmenn.”

  “Oh, has the California plant called in yet?”

  “No, Mr. Christmenn. Did you want me to get them on the line for you?” Mrs. Weber asked as she picked up the phone, ready to call them.

  “No, I’ll call them later. Did you send Ms. Schoen the e-mail reminder about lunch?”

  He saw her raise her eyebrows before she answered.

  “Yes, and she’s confirmed the appointment. It’s set for eleven forty-five, at Jack’s. What time should I tell Philip to pick you up?”

  “Eleven forty-five at Jack’s. Thanks. No need to bother Philip, we’ll walk.” He caught a movement out of the corner of his eye. His prey was on the move. “Mrs. Weber, I’ll be getting my coffee now,” he said and rushed away, ignoring the twinkle in the older woman’s eyes.

  Rane’s perfume hit him like a speeding freight train as he headed down the hallway. There had to be something very wrong with him if perfume could make him behave like this. The scent began taking over his senses on impact and he struggled to get his emotions under control, but failed.

  All he could think about was her. He had to find her now! He was trailing after her like a dog in heat. A vision of him attached to her leg doing the Humpty Dumpty had him second-guessing his uncontrollable actions. It was an absurd thought, but it didn’t stop his ruttish behavior as he drew closer to his target. With every lungful of air he took in, he was rewarded with her wonderful perfume. He pushed open the breakroom doors and there she stood. The ultimate prize.

  A goddess, standing next to the coffee machine looking more enticing than he’d thought possible. She turned and smiled at him. Her face lit up like the morning sun. If he’d been a stick of butter, he would have melted right in his shoes. His knees went weak and he felt other parts of his body come to attention. One quick glance around the room told him they were alone.

  “Good morning, Ms. Schoen,” Mark said.

  “Good morning.”

  An awkward silence followed as Rane watched him move closer to her. She stood fixed in place, feeling his coiled power with each step Mark took toward her. When he stopped in front of her, she was overcome by his nearness, which felt closer then he really was to her.

  Damn, did he have to smell so good this early in the morning? Was Drakkar the only cologne he wore?

  She wanted to blame his cologne for the butterflies in her stomach but knew Mark was the major contributing factor.

  “I, um, I received the e-mail from your secretary about today’s lunch. I believe you’ll be very interested in some of the reports I’ll be bringing with me to go over,” she said to break the silence.

  “Yes, she mentioned you’d accepted.”

  Business? Who wanted to discuss business when she had the world’s sexiest man alive standing inches from her?

  She took in his appearance, thinking he had a monopoly on virility. Today his dark green, single-breasted suit, white oxford shirt, with a yellow and green tie made his blue eyes bluer, if that was possible. Her palms grew sweaty and the cup she held almost slipped from her hand.

  “I haven’t seen you in the breakroom before. Do you come here to get your morning coffee?”

  Rane moved to the side to allow him to make his selection and deliberately studied his hand. Her heart hammered foolishly.

  He had long fingers. Damn Val!

  “I usually don’t but the coffeemaker in my office is broken. Mrs. Weber has ordered a new one,” Mark said.

  “Nice hands,” she mumbled.

  Shit! Had she said “Nice hands” aloud?

  “What? Did you say something?” he asked.

  “Newsstand. Paper. Do you know if there is someplace I can buy the daily paper?” she asked, covering up her slip.

  “Oh, the paper. You should get one daily. Check with Mr. Adam.”

  “Okay, thanks. I didn’t think so. I haven’t seen you in here since I’ve started with the company.”

  She was now back on track and with any luck her slip didn’t make him think she was an idiot.

  “Do you come here every morning for your coffee?” Mark asked again.

  He took his now-filled paper coffee cup with the day’s special blend of almond-chocolate.

  “Yes and no.” She laughed nervously. “What I mean is, yes, I come here every morning, but it’s not for coffee. It’s for hot chocolate. I have to admit I don’t drink coffee.”

  Rane hoped her declaration didn’t insult him. She winced, expecting a little backlash. Admitting to the president of the company that you don’t like the product they made was pretty stupid.

  “Did I hear you right? You do not drink coffee?” Mark asked, emphasizing each word.

  Rane couldn’t tell if he was upset or not and quickly explain. “I-I enjoy the smell of coffee but I don’t like the taste. Sometimes I do have café mochas but have extra, extra chocolate added to cut the coffee taste.”

  She’d done it again. Talk about putting your foot in your mouth.

  She decided it was time to back away to the door and make her escape before she inserted her other foot.

  “Well, Ms. Schoen,” Mark said, following her lead by heading to the door, “thanks for being so honest. I think we’ll have to do
something about your distaste for coffee.”

  “I promise to try one on the next Special Blend Day.”

  “Not everyone loves coffee at first,” he replied. “Some people never acquire a taste for it and then again, some do. I hope you’ll be one of those people who end up enjoying a good cup of coffee.”

  Arriving at the door, he held it open. “After you.”

  Their bodies almost touched causing Rane to stare into his eyes.

  “Sorry, excuse me,” she murmured as she cleared the doorway.

  “No, it’s my fault.”

  “Mr. Christmenn, I hope I haven’t insulted you. I didn’t mean to if I did,” Rane blurted, scarcely aware she’d spoken.

  “I can’t dislike or become mad at everyone who doesn’t like coffee. Everyone has different likes and dislikes. I’ll have to arrange for you to be included on the next tour of one of the coffee manufacturing plants.” Mark slowed. “I think you just missed the last one. Would you be interested in going on the next trip?”

  “Well, I, yes, it sounds interesting. I’d like to learn more about the company.”

  Rane also slowed, seeing Mark was having trouble walking, talking, and holding his coffee at the same time. It was comical to watch.

  “The company allows the employees to take a two-day trip to tour one of our plants. I feel it helps them understand the business better. One of the techniques used during the cupping evaluation is very interesting to watch. Do you know what cupping is?”

  “No.” Not wanting to seem ignorant, she added, “I’ve done some research into the coffee roasting process though.”

  “Excellent. I like it when an employee takes the initiative to find out about things they don’t know about. I’ve tried cupping several times and my findings are so different from my cupping specialists they’ve banned me from their room.” Mark leaned in toward her and added in a husky murmur, “But between you and me, I think the employees just like having the days off and a chance to try all the new coffee blends.”

  As they stood staring at each other, Rane felt the urge to move closer. His breath mingled with hers. Drakkar and Charlie mixing. Time seemed to have stopped. The sounds of people talking and phones ringing blended together in a sort of dull roar in her ears.

  Mark broke the trance by taking a step back. He wanted nothing more than to kiss Rane and that wouldn’t do, especially in the middle of the busy office area. “Please excuse me, Ms. Schoen. I’ll come by your office at eleven-thirty for lunch.”

  He forced himself to sound businesslike and gave her a weak smile and stepped away toward the waiting Mrs. Weber. He couldn’t help but notice how she followed Rane’s retreating form and then him suspiciously. Mrs. Weber didn’t ask any questions but informed him Mr. Nelson was holding. Mumbling under his breath, he kept his eyes forward sorely tempted to look behind him for one last glance of her.

  Picking up the phone, he listened intently, as all thoughts of the sexy Rane faded away. Agent Nelson advised him that Mr. Massaro had been jailed and charged with several crimes with no bond. It seemed even the bad guys had enemies.

  Some of the mob members were relieved and had stopped supporting him. Apparently, Massaro had been getting too sloppy and arrogant for the likes of them. Organized crime played by their own rules and had their own limitations on what was right and wrong.

  “I’m sorry to say the threat is still in effect. We’ve gotten some new leads but we need you to be on high alert.”

  “Have you been in contact with Philip?” Mark asked.

  “Yes, I spoke with him first.”

  “When is it going to end? I never signed on for all of this.”

  “We appreciate everything you’ve done but it takes time.”

  “Thank you for the good news. Keep us informed.”

  “For sure, Mr. Christmenn,” Agent Nelson said.

  Their conversation ended, and Mark stared at the phone. After all this time, he was close to be getting his life back.

  Life? What life?

  Mark lifted the picture on his desk.

  Why had he kept it all these years?

  Because the girl had intrigued him. She hadn’t seen him as a rich boy with everything. The girl had treated him as if she’d found a new friend but had never given him her full name, only a nickname. He knew it had started with the letter R and over the years, he’d been through every name book he could get his hands on, but the name still evaded him.

  Mark sat back arduously in his chair to clear his mind. He rubbed his hand over his chin and mouth. A bad habit when he was frustrated. Suddenly an uncanny feeling came over him. An employee earlier had greeted Rane by calling her Ro.

  Ro. Rane. Ro. Ro. Rane.

  Over and over, he said the name. Could it be a shortened version of Rane’s name? It had a familiar sound to it. Could it be the nickname he’d been looking for all these years? The more he thought about the two names, Rane and Ro, the more confused he became. What were the chances Rane was the girl?

  She couldn’t be. Maybe he only wanted it to be the name and wanted her to be the grownup version of the girl. It couldn’t be that simple.

  Out of curiosity, he withdrew her personnel file and went over it yet again. Nothing. He couldn’t find any connection between Rane and the girl who’d hand-drawn the picture for him.

  Did Rane look like the girl?

  No, she wasn’t anything like the girl he remembered. Rane was beautiful. No, she was stunning. There was no way Rane was the plain girl-next-door type.

  All these years the picture had given him hope. Now as he stared at it, he saw it for what it had been. A childish promise, one that was never meant to happen. It saddened him as he let the old promise begin to fade.

  He was ending it here and now. He was moving on. Rane didn’t need to be the girl who had made him promise to meet her twenty years ago for him to be interested in her. Damn it, if he wanted to ask her out, he was going to.

  “Excuse me, Mr. Christmenn, its eleven-fifteen,” Mrs. Weber announced from the doorway.

  He glanced at Mrs. Weber and nodded. Before the twenty-year-old picture could make him change his mind, he laid it facedown and left his office with a new conviction on life.

  Chapter 17

  Again, Rane’s perfume overtook him as he neared her office. Mark couldn’t stop an image of the two of them locked in an embrace, naked and covered in sweat to be exact. He found himself in unfamiliar territory. No woman had ever made him want her as badly as Rane was doing. They hadn’t ever kissed but yet his body was reacting as if they’d shared a night of hot and heavy sex.

  Their glances met; blue eyes to blue eyes.

  “I see you’re ready to go,” Mark declared in a cool tone, trying to hide his growing desire. “You can leave the file. If I need to see something we discuss at lunch, you can show me when we return.”

  “Oh, okay, thanks. I was wondering if you really wanted to see the charts now or later.”

  Rane was relieved not to have to carry the file to lunch, but surprised because this was to be a business lunch, not a date, like Val had reminded her ten million times today.

  “I thought we’d walk to the restaurant. It’s a nice day. Is that all right with you?” Mark asked.

  “That’s great, I prefer to walk. Sometimes when you sit all day, it’s nice to merely walk around. I’ve been trying to make sure I get out for lunch to do just that. I mean walk.”

  She silently scolded herself. She was rambling and needed to stop as they waited for the elevator. Thankfully, she was saved and their conversation ended as soon as the door shut. But being in such close quarters with Mark made his cologne ten times stronger. The intoxicating aroma, all manly, was drowning her in its sexual aura.

  She felt her better judgment diminishing.
Not only could she smell him, she felt his body heat, and his breath on her hair. He stood behind her to the right and if she leaned back and turned, she’d fit very nicely into his arms.

  As if her body had a will of its own, she felt herself gravitating toward him, wanting the comfort of his embrace. The opening of the door saved her from doing something so irrational that she quickly stepped out as if she’d been freed from jail. She made sure there was plenty of empty space between them as they continued on their way.

  “Good afternoon, Mr. Christmenn. Good afternoon, Ms. Schoen,” Karen called out as they passed her desk.

  “Karen, if you see Philip, please have him call Mrs. Weber,” Mark stated.

  “Yes, Mr. Christmenn,” Karen said.

  Once safely out of earshot, Rane asked, “Is she always that happy?”

  He turned and smiled at her, which softened his face, making him appear sexier than he already was and caused her heart to skip a beat.

  “Ms. Schoen, may I call you Rane?” Mark asked. Seeing her nod, he continued. “Are you always this straightforward?”

  “Yes, I am. Sometimes it gets me into trouble. My mother was always able to tell when I wasn’t telling the truth. Oh my, I didn’t mean I make a habit of lying.”

  His teasing laughter had her searching for a plausible explanation and she added, “My ex-husband would never allow me to play poker. You see, he said I would lose my shirt.”

  Val was going to kill her. Dating rule Number Two: Never talk about your ex until the third date because by then they’d be hooked. Then again, this wasn’t a date. She was having a conversation with her top boss.

  But she couldn’t undo what she’d said. It had just come out. What was she going to do? All she could do was pray it would work to her advantage.