by Nicki Elson
“Thanks.” Her stomach was too unsettled from not enough sleep to eat anything, but she popped a pod into his Keurig and watched him while she waited for her mug to fill. He wore a crisp, pale-blue shirt and navy suit pants. Looking closer at what he was ironing, she asked, “Are those mine?”
“Yep.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“I’m already ready, and I don’t mind.” He switched to the other leg and smoothed it flat, checking that the front crease was centered.
Lyssa folded one arm over the other and leaned against the shiny granite counter. “I gotta say, King, this is probably the sexiest thing a guy’s ever done for me.”
He lifted the iron and blasted out a puff of steam. “So this is how you like it, huh? Hot and wet?” Lyssa laughed and poured the milk. “Drink it fast,” Hayden said, giving her pants a few last swipes with the iron and looking at his watch. “On the way to the meeting I’ll tell you all about the brilliant idea I had last night.”
She gulped down her first sip. “You were supposed to be sleeping, not thinking.” Snatching her pants from Hayden, she returned to the bathroom to get dressed, then sucked down the rest of her coffee, and they caught a cab. On the way to DH’s Chicago offices, they reviewed the order of their presentation, which ended up taking the entire cab ride to get through. Stepping out, Lyssa asked, “So what’s this brilliant idea?”
“No time now. We’ll talk about it after the meeting.”
From Lyssa’s perspective, the presentation went smoothly. The DH executives nodded often, and their questions and comments indicated they were satisfied with the candidates presented. Shep had remained quiet but didn’t appear displeased. In the end, the DH executives decided to move forward with Ardent Capital Management.
As they shut their freshly prepared reports, Hayden said. “We considered throwing something a little more radical at you, but after what the fund’s been through with Blaze, going conservatively seemed the best route for this placement. But that doesn’t mean we can’t have some fun with other portions of the fund.”
Shep twirled a pen and sat back, a smile tugging at his lips. “What do you have in mind?”
“It’s premature for me to say,” Hayden admitted. “I have to work it out with the asset allocation team, but rather than the typical approach—choosing a candidate based on cursory visits and stats and hoping it’ll work out—what if a small segment of the overall fund was dedicated to a pool of untested but promising up-and-comers? A wild card pool. When one breaks away and proves themselves, you can up their allotment.”
Shep looked bright-eyed and alert for the first time that morning, tapping the table with his pen while the low rumble of his characteristic chuckle rolled up and out his throat. “You run it past your allocation team, see what they have to say about it, and then we’ll talk. If they give you any trouble, tell ’em Shep is enthusiastic about the idea.”
Hayden kept his smile easy and professional, but Lyssa could tell he was fighting an all-out goofy grin. They shook hands with the executives and said their goodbyes with a promise to meet again in early November—in Dallas.
The Fox & Keaton associates left the building and walked a couple of blocks before Hayden turned to Lyssa. “Sorry I brought up the wild card idea without discussing it with you first. It’s just…Shep actually yawned in the middle of our presentation. I couldn’t walk out of there letting him think we’re plain vanilla.”
Lyssa nodded. “It’s okay—I mean, don’t do it again, but I get it. Is this something you really want to pursue?”
“Hell yes. Don’t you think it’s appealing?”
Lyssa shrugged and then shook her head to ward off the tiny prickles poking at her temples. “I guess.” The adrenaline that’d kept her going through the meeting waned, and lack of sleep slammed into her. “When did you…how…”
She hadn’t realized that her head had been drooping until Hayden caught one side of her face and lifted it. Peering directly into her eyes, he asked, “Are you okay? Did you eat anything this morning?”
She stared back, smiling lightly as she imagined the rich blue of his irises as swirling fairies. Her eyelids fluttered, and the next thing she knew, the side of her face was pressed into Hayden’s chest. One of his hands molded across the middle of her back, the other held her head to him. With a sharp inhale, she pushed away and stood straight, leaving both her hands pressed into his firm chest for support. “I’m so sorry, I…”
One side of Hayden’s mouth lifted. “You swooned when you looked into my eyes. Don’t worry, happens all the time.”
“If I had any strength left, I’d choke that cocky grin off your face.”
“Aha, so hot, wet, and violent—that’s how you like it. I learn something new about you every day, Bates.” He curled his hands around the backs of hers and slid them off him, keeping possession of one. “Come on. I’m going to take my starving partner out for eggs, and then we’ll get you tucked into your own bed.”
Chapter 7
AT LUNCH WITH THE GIRLS from work, Lyssa found it easy to put in a good word for Hayden. In fact, she put in several. As the nine F&K females batted a collection of conversations back and forth across the large table, Lyssa gave him a mention whenever it felt natural: “Hayden’s been really great to work with. I’m learning a lot from him,” or “Hayden’s fun to tease because he’s got a great sense of humor and can take it.” Soon, she found she was doing it without even trying. “Hayden’s amazing in stressful situations, totally keeps his cool.”
About halfway through the lunch, Julie, a married thirty-something who’d started at the firm around the same time as Lyssa, dropped her napkin onto the floor. On her way down to retrieve it, she grabbed Lyssa’s arm, pulling her close. “Is something going on between you two?”
“Who two?” Lyssa mirrored Julie’s quiet, conspiratorial tone.
“You and Captain America.”
“Ha! No. He’s a great guy but not really my type.”
The two women straightened as Julie rolled her eyes. “He’s everybody’s type.”
“Not mine,” Lyssa insisted. “And even if he was, it wouldn’t make any difference because I’m not his.” She leaned in and lowered her voice again. “Actually, the reason I keep saying such nice things about him is because he’s got a thing for Sabine. I promised I’d do what I could to help.”
“Ahh, that makes sense. Hey, Sabine,” Julie called across the table. “The Taft-hottie wants to woo you.”
Sabine’s eyes instantly flicked to Lyssa, who shrugged and scrunched her face in apology as she said, “He’s a good guy. Worth giving a chance.”
Three days later, Hayden surprised Lyssa by jumping up from his chair and circling his desk the moment she entered his office. Pulling her close, he planted a big, fat kiss on her forehead. “You’re the best partner ever.”
“Um, thanks?” She stepped back and eyed his wide grin. She’d seen her calm, cool and cocky partner playful before, but never this animated.
“Guess who’s got a date with the goddess from HR this weekend.”
“If you stick up your thumbs and say ‘This guy,’ I’m leaving right now.” She was glad her efforts had paid off, but couldn’t muster Hayden’s level of giddiness.
“Now, now, my snarky little matchmaker, you know I’m far too cool to do anything of the sort.” He lifted his hand to her nose and looked very much as if he was going to tweak it.
“Touch me and die.” Now she found his jubilation downright irritating.
He pulled his hand back and toned down the shininess of his demeanor. “At least let me say thank you for upholding your end of the deal.”
“You’re welcome.” While he returned to his seat, she pulled over the side chair and opened her file, ready to dig into Delicious Hawaii business. “And I hope you have fun on your date,” she added, lest he misinterpret her crankiness as jealousy.
“Thanks. So what’ve you got going on this weekend?”
“Wedding. I’m a bridesmaid.”
“Ooph. Sorry.”
She laughed. “I’m looking forward to it, actually. It’s for Amy, one of my best friends since college. I know her fiancée Chuck from school, too. It’ll be a fun party.”
He sat back and examined her. “And yet you’re less than excited.”
She gave her head a small shake. “I’m excited. I’m just…not looking forward to all the pity glances for being the only person in the wedding party without a date.”
“The pity glances are only imagined. But what happened—the programmer can’t make it?”
“Guess I forgot to tell you. We broke up.” She pulled out some papers and began organizing them into three stacks.
“Why?”
“Irreconcilable differences.” She opened her laptop and clicked around to open the pertinent spreadsheets.
Hayden remained leaning back in his chair, watching her. “Is that all you’re going to give me?”
“Yup.”
Amy and Chuck’s close family friends and out-of-town relatives joined the bridal party and their dates, minus one, at the rehearsal dinner on the second floor of the crab house at Navy Pier. Surrounded by views of nautical activity on Lake Michigan, Amy’s dad made a cheesy toast about his daughter and her groom setting sail on a new life adventure. After everyone laughed and clinked glasses, Chuck walked over to Lyssa with a moderately attractive guy in tow.
“Lyss, I want you to meet my cousin, Sean. He’s from upstate New York.” Turning to his cousin, Chuck added, “Lyssa goes to New York City for work all the time.”
“If by all the time you mean twice so far in my career, then yeah, I’m a regular. Nice to meet you, Sean.” She offered her hand.
As Sean shook it, Chuck announced that he’d better see what Amy was up to and hurried away. Apparently, Lyssa wasn’t the only one playing matchmaker this week. Sean flashed an embarrassed grin. “Subtlety has never been my cousin’s strongpoint.”
“Subtlety’s overrated,” Lyssa said, liking the way Sean’s smile ignited sparks in his pale green eyes. When she’d spotted him earlier, she’d judged him to be older because of his receding hairline. Now that she saw him up close, she estimated him at closer to her own age. She’d get the skinny from Amy later. “I guess since he made the effort, we at least owe him a little small talk. Do you get into New York City often?”
They chatted about the city for a few minutes but then were summoned to take their seats for dinner and separated. After eating, most of the younger set drifted down the pier to the dark coziness of Harry Caray’s Tavern. By the end of Lyssa’s first pint, Sean had circled around to where she, Trish, Jo, and Amy huddled together at one end of the bar.
“Any of you ladies care to join me and a few of the others for a night on the town? I’m going to see if the infamous Rush Street lives up to its hype.” His eyes fell onto Lyssa.
“Sorry,” she said. “We’re actually about to leave. Bridesmaids are having a sleepover in the honeymoon suite.”
“Yeah, paws off my friends until tomorrow. No boys allowed!” Amy shouted, wagging her finger in his face before throwing her arms around her friends and squeezing them. “I want a night of my girls all to myself before my big bad husband drags me away to live in San Diego.”
“The transfer’s official?” Lyssa asked.
“Yep, as of last week.” Amy’s smile only faltered for half a second before firmly locking back into place, letting Lyssa know this wasn’t the time to talk about the impending cross-country move.
Sean persisted. “Then at least let me buy you all a round of shots before you leave.”
“Naughty boy. I can’t be hungover on my wedding day,” Amy said. And then, without any arm-twisting by anyone, “Well okay, maybe one!”
After toasting the happy couple with top shelf whiskey shots, the girls cut off the bride-to-be from any more alcohol and got her properly hydrated and to bed at a decent hour—early enough that she sang them all awake first thing in the morning with a poorly-executed rendition of a Disney princess song, complete with dancing.
JoAnne opened one eye and aimed it across the air mattress at Lyssa. “We should’ve let her get tanked last night.”
From the bed, Trish groaned. “She’d still be waking us up at the crack for our hair and makeup appointments.”
Amy pirouetted between the air mattresses, nearly clocking Lyssa in the head as she lost her footing on the backspin.
“Yeah, but it would’ve at least brought her down a few decibels,” Jo griped.
They got their perky friend married off and made their way through wedding photos, introductions, toasts, and dinner. The occupants of the head table gathered for one final group photo, then clinked glasses, vowing to make up for what they didn’t drink the night before. Amy and Chuck had given their friends input on the DJ’s playlist, and in Lyssa’s opinion, the selections were excellent. She stayed on the dance floor for several songs, not feeling the least bit awkward for not having a date, though she found herself occasionally searching the room for Sean. She caught glimpses of him but assumed he’d lost interest after she’d turned down his invitation to cruise the bars the night before.
A terrace overlooking the Chicago River bordered one wall of the banquet room. That’s where Lyssa sought cool air after working up a sweat on the dance floor. The patio was only lightly populated with a few smokers on the chilly late-September evening. Lyssa went to the railing to watch the city’s lights reflect off the jelly-like ripples of the river. She wouldn’t last long with her bare arms in the night air, but she wanted to take a few minutes to fully enjoy the facilities that had to be costing Amy’s parents a good chunk of their retirement funds. She laughed at herself: always finance on the brain. Hayden would be proud.
“What’s funny?” It was a man’s voice approaching from behind. She turned and saw that it belonged to Sean.
“Nothing really. I was just thinking about how much this reception must’ve cost.”
“You can probably find out easily enough at the hotel’s website.” He stepped over to stand next to her at the railing.
“Yeah, but then I realized it was none of my business.”
He curled his fingers and ran his knuckles along the side of her arm. “You’re ice cold. Here.” He slid out of his jacket.
“No! You don’t have to do that.” She held up both hands in protest.
“Don’t worry—my motivations are purely selfish.” He hung the jacket off both her shoulders and tucked the sides to cover her arms. “I don’t want you to use being cold as an excuse to run away from me.”
Maneuvering both arms through the deliciously warm sleeves, she smiled. “If you’re so worried about me running away, what took you so long to give me something to run away from?”
“What took you so long to be out of the midst of a gaggle of girls so I could approach you?” He raised one eyebrow, and the moonlight fell across his face, accentuating the strong lines of his features.
She laughed. “Point for you. So here you are. Now what?”
“Now I tell you how beautiful you look tonight.” When she rolled her eyes, he followed up with, “Seriously, you should wear a dress more often.”
“Have you been talking to my mother?”
“Does your mother think you have sexy legs, too?”
“Hold up.” Lyssa eyed him, suddenly suspicious. “Last night’s the only time you’ve ever seen me not in a dress—how would you know how infrequently I wear them?”
He gritted his teeth and raised his top lip in a half snarl. “Whoops. Busted.”
“Busted?” Lyssa took a step back, but he stopped her by laying his hand over hers on the railing.
“No, it’s not…I’m not a stalker. At least I don’t think I am. I just…when I arrived in town a few days ago, I asked Chuck for the lowdown on the single ladies who’d be at the wedding, and you were one of them. Amy was more than happy to indulge my curiosity by
pulling up her photos, and I noticed you wore pants in pretty much all of them.”
“Oh.” His explanation was only slightly less creepy than what she’d been thinking of him a few seconds ago.
“Please don’t look at me like that. I know my methods were sort of sketchy, but I only had limited time to work with and didn’t want to waste any of it trying to find out what Chuck and Amy could easily clue me in on. At least I’m being honest with you, right?”
She narrowed her eyes again and studied him. A bump along the ridge of his nose indicated it might’ve been broken at one time. He suddenly struck her as a tantalizing combination of rugged and sophisticated. “Honesty is good. I suppose as long as you promise to keep being honest with me I’ll stay and talk to you. But I’m taking back that point I gave you earlier.”
“Fair enough.” His intrigued smile went from his lips to his eyes, warming Lyssa in ways his jacket couldn’t.
“Now that you’re being totally honest—what happened? Did the other girls in the lineup fail to fall for your tricks and that’s why you’re out here with me?”
“I don’t have tricks. And for the record, I had my preference narrowed down to you alone before the rehearsal dinner.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
“Why?”
“Honestly?”
“I think we’ve already established that.”
“Well, because you’re cute but not ridiculously so—I didn’t want to have to fight off a bunch of other guys. Then when Amy told me you’d just gotten out of a serious-ish relationship, I figured you’d be the least likely to have formed attachments to anyone else and the most likely to be feeling a void that only a rebound fling could fulfill. In other words, you seemed gettable.”
She let her jaw hang open for a moment before saying, “Y’know, there’s a difference between being honest and being brutal. Do you get your overture advice from Fitzwilliam Darcy?”