Sensational

by Janet Nissenson

  “You’ll do fine,” assured Karl quietly. “Despite what you might think, your lack of actual editorial experience isn’t a big deal. Personally, I’m thrilled to have someone on board who’s actually been through the same experiences as we have. Though I’m guessing Conde Nast put you up at much nicer places than some of the borderline dumps we’ve stayed at over the years.”

  Ben shrugged. “I guess so. Though I’ve always been more comfortable roughing it in a tent or log cabin than a five-star resort. I envy some of the assignments your crew has gone on, would have much rather written an article about glacier hiking in Iceland than a new golf course in Florida.”

  Karl walked over to the door. “Well, I hope you’ll be able to go with us on an assignment one of these times. So, who’s up next?”

  After the relatively brief team meeting, Ben had met with each member one on one – except for the final member of the team and the one person in all the world he’d never expected to see again – much less under such awkward, impossible circumstances.

  “Lauren.”

  It was the first time he’d uttered her name out loud since he had left Big Sur. In the ensuing years, he had never talked about her to anyone, not even Elle. To this day, Elle still didn’t know Lauren’s name or where they’d met, facts that he was suddenly grateful for. Because there was little doubt that the two women – his past and his present – were now bound to meet up eventually, and Ben only hoped it wouldn’t be a disaster in the making.

  “Ah.” Karl nodded. “You’ve saved Her Majesty for last. And now that you’ve actually met her, what do you think?”

  Ben had been shocked – more like dumbfounded – when he’d seen Lauren’s name yesterday on the list of staff members who would be reporting to him. He’d had zero idea when he had interviewed for the job that Lauren had worked at National Geographic Travel for more than four years, that she was regarded as the most talented and innovative young photographer on staff. Seeing her name in black and white had nearly sent him into panic mode, and he’d barely been able to sleep last night as he had struggled with how to deal with such an unimaginable situation.

  But at least he’d had a good twenty-four hours to prepare himself for seeing her again. Lauren wasn’t a woman who startled easily, but it had been very obvious from the way her unforgettable green eyes had widened upon first seeing him just how shocked she’d been. He had kept his fingers crossed that she wouldn’t make a scene in front of the others, wouldn’t fly across the room and punch him in the gut or jab her fingers into his solar plexus as payback for walking out on her back in Big Sur. Instead, she’d played it cool, evidently just as reluctant as he was to betray their past relationship to the men she worked with so closely.

  It had been very apparent that she felt entirely at ease with both Karl and Chris, laughing and conversing with them easily. He’d felt an instant surge of unreasonable, outrageous jealousy to observe the casual, natural way she flirted lightly with both men, how she touched them every so often – a squeeze of their arm, a pat on the cheek, a playful ruffle of their hair.

  And it was equally obvious that her relationship with George – poor, hapless George – was not nearly as friendly or affectionate. Her disdain for the admittedly annoying young producer was very noticeable, nearly as much as George’s own palpable fear of Lauren. If he hadn’t been obliged to maintain some level of professional decorum, Ben might have allowed himself to laugh hysterically at the way George quivered with dread each time Lauren glanced his way.

  Ben was belatedly aware that Karl was gazing at him expectantly, waiting for his answer. “I think – that she’s a force to be reckoned with,” he blurted out. “And that everything you told me about her more than lives up to expectations.”

  Karl regarded him quizzically. “You know, I got the weirdest vibe when the two of you met for the first time. Almost like – well, like you’ve met before or something.”

  Ben tried his damndest to appear unfazed. “I, ah, well – if we’re being perfectly honest here – I, uh, didn’t expect her to be quite so hot.”

  Karl grinned. “Yeah, she gets that reaction a lot. I mean, a lot. Guys have hit on her on all seven continents, including the Navy Seals we met in Antarctica. But Lauren never screws around – literally or figuratively – on the job. At least, not since Mozambique her first year on the job. And before you ask,” he added as Ben arched a brow, “you’ll have to hear that story directly from her. Though I must say it’s one of her better tales.”

  “Why do I have the feeling,” asked Ben with a shake of his head, “that I’ll be sprouting gray hairs within the next few months? Especially if everything you’ve told me about her is true.”

  “Oh, it’s all true,” assured Karl cheerfully. “But what you also need to know is that in spite of her tough chick exterior, Lauren has a heart of gold. She’s always looking out for us, admittedly bosses us around a lot, but always with good intentions. She’s like our little mother at times, even though Chris and I are both older. And while she gives George a lot of shit – come on, you’ve gotta admit the dude just asks for it at times – she looks out for him, too. So don’t let the ballsy babe image fool you, Ben. Deep down, Lauren’s a sweetheart, and one in a million. The guy who finally snags her will be one lucky bastard. I’ll send her in now, okay?”

  Karl left before Ben could blurt out that once upon a time he’d been the lucky bastard who had snagged Lauren. Except that he’d also been the stupid bastard who’d walked away from the best thing that had ever happened to him.

  He didn’t know what to expect when she walked inside his office, closing the door behind her. Ben had mentally prepared himself to deal with potential anger, scorn, or disdain – or a combination of all three. What he hadn’t expected was for her to stand with her back to the door, arms crossed defiantly over her stomach, and to regard him with an amused smirk.

  “I’ve got to hand it to you, Ben,” she chuckled. “I didn’t think you could hold out that long without giving it away. Because there was no way I was going to be the first one to cave and admit to the guys that we had a history. So you can relax now. The door’s shut, everyone else is busy, and you don’t have to keep pretending that we’ve never met until today.”

  He gave a brief nod of acknowledgment. “I figured it might make things difficult for you with the rest of the crew if they knew. That they might give you a bad time about it.”

  Lauren’s smirk grew more pronounced. “Those guys know better than to give me a bad time about anything. But I appreciate your – discretion, Ben. Though I can tell you right now what I don’t appreciate in the least.”

  She shook her head in disgust as she walked right up to him, flicking the collar of his shirt disdainfully.

  “This isn’t a good look for you,” she announced in her usual forthright manner. “And it sure as hell isn’t you. What are you doing here, Ben, and exactly what are you trying to prove? You’re no more cut out for this job than I am.”

  He sucked in a breath at being this close to her for the first time in forever, trying desperately to ignore how silky soft her caramel curls looked, or how she still managed to smell like the beach and the summer sun when she was thousands of miles from California. And he couldn’t help himself from dropping his gaze to stare hungrily at the way her lush breasts lovingly filled out the dark blue ribbed top she wore.

  At the group meeting earlier, she’d still been wearing a chunky, thigh-length light gray sweater over woolly dark gray leggings and knee high boots. With the voluminous sweater now removed, the tempting curves of her petite body were on full, mouthwatering display.

  The gorgeous girl had matured into a breathtaking woman, her beauty more refined and yet still wild and untamed. She wore no jewelry, her nails were kept short and unpolished, and the only visible makeup she had on was some tinted lip gloss that made her plush, pillowy mouth look utterly kissable. Lauren had always been a confident, capable woman, but now she wore that confiden
ce like a badge of honor, and he’d never felt more intimidated by a woman – hell, by anyone – in his life. Or, judging by the way his pants had suddenly grown tighter, more aroused.

  “Still staring at my tits, I see,” she drawled lazily. “Guess that part of you hasn’t changed, unlike everything else apparently.”

  “I’m still the same person I always was,” he replied quietly. “I may dress a little differently, have a different type of job, but not much else has changed. And speaking of clothing, I can see you still like to wear as little of it as possible.”

  Lauren shrugged as she plopped herself down in one of the brown leather club chairs that faced his desk, crossing her legs. “It’s like a frigging steam bath in this place. Helpful hint – boss.” The last word had been uttered with sarcastic disdain. “Tell the higher ups they can save themselves big bucks by lowering the thermostat ten degrees. And then maybe I can stop wearing four layers during the winter.”

  Ben regarded her somberly. “I told you once that you’d never call me your boss. Or that anyone would ever truly be in charge of you. I never thought we’d be in a position where I actually was your boss.”

  Her face closed up instantly, the expression in her green eyes almost murderous. “Well, boss, the first thing we need to get straight is that any mention of what happened four years ago is strictly off the table. Got it?”

  He shook his head. “Lauren, we need to talk about it. I need to explain – a lot of things. I have to tell you about why I had to leave, why I didn’t - ”

  She held up a hand. “Stop. Right now. I mean it, Ben. Because the only explanation I’d ever accept is that four years ago you were dying of some incurable disease and wanted to spare me the aftermath. Even that would have pissed me off enough to kick your ass. And since you’re obviously hale and hearty, there is no other explanation you could ever hope to dream up that I’d want to listen to. So don’t ever talk to me about Big Sur, or try to explain or apologize. Because there’s no excuse, no explanation, for what you did, and I’ll walk away if you even try to discuss it. Now, let’s talk business, shall we – boss?”

  He stared at her in dismay. “Lauren, you’ve got to let me explain. God, you have no idea how much I’ve regretted what I did, how many times I – mmphh!”

  She’d sprung up out of her chair and pressed her palm against his lips, cutting off what he had been about to say. “I told you,” she bit out in an almost deadly calm voice, “that I have no interest in hearing your half-assed explanations. And I sure as hell don’t need to listen to your pathetic lies and excuses. If we’re going to work together, then any references to the past are completely off limits. Understand?”

  At his nod, she removed her hand and sat down, gazing up at him in mock obedience. He recognized the stubborn set of her small chin, and realized with a sinking spirit that any attempts to explain on his part would be met by deaf ears. Lauren could be incredibly pig-headed when she felt strongly enough about something, and it was very obvious that she wasn’t prepared to listen at this particular moment. But there were certain things that had to be discussed whether she liked it or not.

  “I’ve seen some of your work,” he stated, abruptly steering the conversation in a different direction. “And it’s sensational, by far the best of any of the other photographers on staff. You’ve done well, Lauren. Or should I call you Your Majesty?” he added, smiling.

  She rolled her eyes in exasperation. “I can’t believe Chris told you about that stupid nickname.” She plucked at a piece of lint on her woolly leggings. “Did you know I worked here when you took the job?” she asked quietly. “Is that why - ?”

  “No.” He shook his head firmly. “I didn’t know until yesterday that you worked here. When I interviewed for the job, I wasn’t exactly in a position to question who the members of my staff would be. I was just as shocked as you were to realize we’d be working together.”

  Lauren nodded, evidently satisfied with this explanation. “Though I still don’t know why you would have pursued a job like this. From what you told me once, you loved the travel as much as I do. Why would you give all that up for a boring desk job where you get to plan adventures for other people?”

  Ben hesitated, not sure if this was the right time to mention his relationship with Elle. But since it was quite obvious that Lauren had zero interest in even hearing his explanation about why he’d walked out on her – much less taking up where they’d left off – he figured he might as well break the news.

  “I’m – involved with someone,” he began hesitantly. “At first we were just platonic roommates, but we’ve, um, been together for a few months now. And all that traveling is tough on a relationship.”

  Her expression remained solidly impassive at this news, and aside from a brief shake of her head she didn’t seem to be in the least affected by it. “You’re an idiot,” she told him brusquely. “An absolute idiot to give up a job you’ve always wanted for the sake of a relationship. You can be damned sure I would never have agreed to something like that. Or expected someone else to do it for me. You must really be crazy about this woman is all I can figure. What’s her name?”

  “Elle,” he replied quietly. “Elle Kimbrough. She’s a writer for The New Yorker. We met when I first moved here.”

  “Pretty name,” acknowledged Lauren. “Very feminine. Is she an outdoors person like you are?”

  He couldn’t help chuckling at the mere thought of dainty, tidy Elle going rock climbing, paddle boarding, or mountain biking. She preferred indoor activities like swimming in her health club’s pool, or taking Pilates classes.

  “No. Elle isn’t much for outdoor adventure,” he admitted. “She likes going to the museums, the theater, and the symphony and ballet.”

  Lauren burst out laughing. “Oh, God! Please do not tell me that she’s dragged you along to listen to Mozart or see Swan Lake! And I’m just guessing that your girlfriend is responsible for this new look of yours.”

  He shrugged. “She might have given me some advice. I’m not exactly an expert on fashion, you know. Now, if you’re determined not to listen to my explanation – at least, not now – let’s talk instead about how we’re going to deal with working together.”

  She arrogantly propped her booted feet up on the edge of his desk, reclining further back in the padded leather chair. “No big deal, really. I’m only here in the office about two weeks out of every six or so, and either on assignment or back home the rest of the time. We won’t be seeing all that much of each other, and the rest of the team is always here during wrap-up and planning sessions. Why? Did you think I’d be bursting into tears each time I saw you? Or stalking you like some crazy ex-girlfriend? Relax, Ben. What we had was over a long time ago, and it’s obvious that both of us have moved on. And I am always, always, a total professional when I’m on the job, so you don’t need to worry about inappropriate behavior from me in the office.”

  Ben wasn’t prepared for how deeply her nonchalant admittance of having moved on bothered him, and he had to stifle the urge to confess that it wasn’t her inappropriate behavior he was concerned with. Rather, he didn’t know how in hell he was going to be able to constantly resist the very, very powerful allure she still possessed where he was concerned. And he had an extremely unsettling suspicion that having Lauren on his staff was going to be the absolute toughest part of his new job – in more ways than one.

  Chapter Nine

  Late January

  Lauren grinned at the really cute, college-aged server who lined up six shot glasses filled with premium tequila in front of her. “Thanks, sweetie. You’re the best. I’ll make sure George here leaves you a really big tip.”

  The server, whose name badge read Riley, blushed a little but returned Lauren’s deliberately flirty grin. “Anytime,” he told her with a wink, as he set down the salt and lime wedges she’d also requested.

  George glared at her as she prepped and downed the first of her shots. “And why am I leaving the
tip?”

  Lauren regarded him as though he was a three year old child. “Because you’re picking up the tab tonight, Georgina,” she told him in a falsely sweet voice. “Or have you already forgotten the bet you made – and lost – on our last night in Melbourne?”

  “Crap,” muttered George. “I did forget.”

  Lauren arched a brow. “Which just goes to prove my point all over again – I can drink any one of you under the table anytime, anywhere. And especially you, Georgina, since you were evidently too wasted to remember you even made such a foolish bet.”

  George groaned, shaking his head in disgust. “And aren’t those shots of Patron Gran Platinum you ordered? Damn it, Lauren, those probably cost twenty bucks each!”

  Karl chuckled as he took a long swig from his bottle of Stella Artois. “And she’s just getting warmed up, buddy. I’ve seen her put away a hell of a lot more than six shots. Hope your AMEX card has a big credit line.”

  Lauren winked at Karl before taking her second shot. “Sure it does. After all, George is a trust fund baby. Daddy and Mommy are from old New England stock, and own something like half of Newport, Rhode Island.”

  George gaped in shock. “Who told you that? That’s confidential information, so if someone in HR is gossiping - ”

  “Dude, you told us that stuff yourself,” interjected Chris with a shake of his knit cap covered head. “You really can’t hold your liquor, can you? Maybe I should videotape you the next time you have a couple of drinks. You’d be shocked at how loose your tongue gets.”

  While George was busy grousing about how much this bar tab was going to set him back, Lauren very calmly took her third shot. God knew she needed the booze after the past ten days. Fortunately, she was flying home to California day after tomorrow, and could finally stop pretending to everyone for a little while – herself included – that Ben Rafferty meant nothing to her any longer and was simply her boss. Lauren excelled at many things, but acting had never been one of them, and it had been a real test of her limited skills to maintain the façade.