Her Favorite Rival

by Sarah Mayberry

  “You know, I think that’s the first time I’ve seen you truly stumped for a response,” Zach said.

  “Hardly.” It seemed to her that she was all too often speechless and incoherent when he was around. “I’ve made a lot of assumptions about you, haven’t I? I’m sorry. That was...really dumb and rude of me.”

  “I didn’t set the record straight because I wanted an apology. I figured if we were working together it would be good if we were on the same page.”

  Very decent of him. Not that she deserved it. When she thought of all the different ways she’d misjudged him... It literally made her toes curl inside her shoes. When had she become such a horrible, narrow-minded, threatened person?

  “I feel like an enormous idiot, if it’s any consolation to you.” Along with a lot of other things—petty, smug, stupid, to name a few.

  “To be fair, I do own a Patek Philippe watch.”

  She realized a little dazedly that he was smiling, and she understood that he was very generously letting her off the hook.

  “Don’t forget your Hugo Boss shoes,” she said after a short pause.

  “And my Armani suit. Although today it’s Ermenegildo Zegna.”

  “Pretty impressive.” She meant it, too. Not because she was impressed by luxury brands, but because he’d clearly shaken off a behind-the-eight-ball start in life to get to a point where he could buy himself such beautiful things. That kind of commitment and hard work and determination took gumption and smarts and whole host of other damned fine characteristics.

  “The point has never been to impress anyone.”

  She believed him. He’d never been ostentatious about his belongings. If anything, he’d been understated—to the point where she’d assumed his nonchalance stemmed from contempt bred from familiarity.

  She picked up the photograph, studying seven-year-old Zach again. How she could have gotten it so wrong for so long was a question that was going to keep her awake into the small hours, squirming with discomfort. Which was as it should be.

  “It’s not a big deal, Audrey. I just wanted to clear the air.”

  She looked at him, studying him through the prism of her new understanding. The bump in his nose took on new significance, as did the breadth of his shoulders and the bright directness of his gaze. It struck her that she’d been right when she’d judged Zach as being different—she’d simply misunderstood the why of it.

  The beep of her phone registering an email broke the silence. She blinked and looked away from him, suddenly aware that ninety-five percent of the reasons she’d used to keep him at arm’s length had just dissolved in a puff of smoke.

  Instead of being an arrogant, overprivileged pretty boy with cockiness to spare, Zach was suddenly an approachable, high-achieving man with a very hot body and the world’s most delicious aftershave.

  And she was stuck in a meeting room with him for the foreseeable future.

  “Well. We should probably get stuck into this, or we’ll be here all night,” she said.

  They launched into work, reading over each other’s proposals and suggesting areas where more research might be required. Zach was sharp and focused, and her pride demanded that she bring her A-game, too, no matter how off-balance she felt. By seven-thirty they’d agreed to the parameters of the report and identified the data they would require to complete it.

  “Right. I guess we need to write up our separate parts and then meet again sometime next week to go over everything,” Zach said, leaning back in his chair and stretching his arms over his head.

  She did her damnedest not to notice the way his shirt pulled across his belly and chest, but wasn’t sure she succeeded.

  “What day suits you? I’ve got late meetings Monday and Tuesday.”

  “We leave for conference Friday. Will Wednesday be cutting it too fine?” he asked.

  She called up the calendar on her phone and checked her schedule. If they had a first draft written by Wednesday night, they’d have Thursday night to finesse things into some kind of coherent presentation. A close call, but not impossible, and maybe they could find some time during the conference itself to do a dry run so they were prepared to present to Whitman when they returned.

  “I think it’s doable,” she said.

  “Okay. I’ll block out Wednesday and Thursday nights.”

  She sighed. Sleep and downtime were obviously going to be scarce commodities in the next week or so.

  “It could be worse. Gary could have asked someone else to do it,” Zach said.

  She couldn’t help grinning. He was totally on the money—she would be so ticked off if someone else had won this opportunity instead of her.

  “True.”

  They packed up their things in comfortable silence, the first Audrey could ever remember them sharing. Together they walked back to the merchandising department, both of them loaded down with files and laptops.

  “To infinity and beyond,” Zach said when it was time for them to part ways.

  It wasn’t until she was back in her office that Audrey recognized his words as a quote from Buzz Lightyear. It made her think of the photograph he’d shown her, of that skinny, raw-kneed boy with the too-long hair and too-serious expression.

  It was strange, knowing so much about him. What he looked like as a child. Where he grew up. The fact that he’d earned everything he had with his own efforts.

  And yet they weren’t friends. Not by a long shot. She wasn’t sure what they were.

  Not enemies anymore. Rivals? Colleagues? Both words didn’t feel quite right.

  Audrey gave herself a mental shake. It was late; she was tired and hungry. It was time to go home and pretend she had a life.

  * * *

  ZACH SPENT THE bulk of his spare time for the rest of the week working on the competitor analysis. He pulled company reports from Mathesons off the internet, paid for a media search, and spoke to various suppliers and industry bodies. He spent Saturday pulling all the information he’d gathered into some kind of shape, staring at his laptop until he was bleary-eyed. The only upside of any of it—apart from the potential payoff at the end when Whitman was blown away by the report—was knowing that Audrey was in the trench with him.

  Three o’clock. Sunday morning found him tapping away on his laptop, driven from his bed by restless thoughts. He swore out loud when the email notification pinged loudly in the quiet of the living room, startling him, then shook his head when he saw it was from Audrey. Nice to know he wasn’t the only one having trouble sleeping.

  What’s wrong, Mathews? Did you wet the bed?

  He was tired enough that he’d hit Send before it occurred to him that even though their working relationship had improved since their little cards-on-the-table chat the other night, it might not be up to incontinence jokes just yet.

  “Good one, smart-ass,” he told his computer screen, scrubbing his face with his hands.

  A second later, another ping.

  Had to get up to see Sven and Lars out. Crazy night. Think we might have broken the bed.

  He barked out a laugh at her bold response.

  That’s the problem with the Swedes: too enthusiastic, he typed back.

  He stared at the screen, waiting for her response.

  Is there such a thing as being too enthusiastic? I’m not sure. Speaking of...I’ve finished my first draft. Want to correct my grammar?

  Thought you’d never ask. Here’s mine, just so you don’t feel left out. In an attempt to preempt any ridicule, I freely admit that spelling is not my forte. Have at it.

  Thanks for taking all the fun out of it. I was going to print off your worst offenses and show them to Megan on Monday.

  Feel free. I’ve already posted your comments about Whitman’s sausage fingers on Facebook.

  I don’t believe I’ve ever mentioned Whitman’s freakishly overinflated digits to you before, so I’m not sure what you’ll be posting...oh, wait...

  He laughed out loud again and pulled the lapt
op a little closer to the edge of the coffee table.

  Your secrets are safe with me, he typed.

  Seriously, though...Those sausage fingers. Megan and I thought we were the only ones who’d noticed.

  Dude, you’d have to be hard of seeing not to notice those puppies.

  I haven’t been called “dude” since the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles were big in primary school.

  My pleasure.

  There was a short pause before the next message appeared.

  Hey. I just realized Can’t Stop the Music is on. And they say insomnia is bad.

  ????

  You haven’t seen it? Dude, you are missing out. Let me sketch a few details for you: Steve Guttenberg, roller skates, New York City. And if that doesn’t clinch the deal for you, it was a movie vehicle for the Village People.

  Sold.

  He grabbed the remote, flicked the TV on and changed the channel. Cheesy music blasted into the room, while the screen filled with a cityscape, complete with a man in white jeans roller-skating down the street, Walkman clutched in one hand.

  Wow, he typed.

  I know. I’ll leave you to enjoy in peace. My gift to you, fellow workaholic.

  He stared at the computer screen, only now registering how much he’d been enjoying their exchange. How engaged he’d been, imagining Audrey sitting up in bed tapping away at her laptop, wearing nothing but one of those tight little tank tops and a pair of lacy panties....

  Yeah.

  Maybe it was just as well she’d signed off, before he let lack of sleep and the intimacy of the early hour lead him into dangerous territory.

  Audrey might be sexy and funny and smart, but she was still his coworker. He had no business thinking about her panties. Especially while he and Audrey were coauthoring the competitor analysis together.

  He shut his laptop, in case he was tempted to renew contact, and settled back on the couch to watch what promised to be a spectacularly bad movie.

  He liked the idea that somewhere in Melbourne, Audrey was doing the same thing.

  In a tight little tank top.

  And black—no, red—panties.

  He was only human, after all.

  * * *

  “SO. HOW’S IT GOING?” Megan took a slurp from her milkshake and wiggled her eyebrows suggestively.

  “I’m going to go out on a limb and guess that when you say ‘it’ you’re referring to my working relationship with Zach,” Audrey said drily.

  It was Thursday, one day before they flew out to Queensland for the conference, and her last day of working hand-in-glove with Zach.

  “Quit stalling. Have you had wild monkey sex yet? Have you seen him without his shirt?”

  Audrey rolled her eyes. “You’re obsessed with sex, you know that?”

  Although it was very telling that the thought of Zach sans shirt made her heart rate go a little crazy.

  “Hello? Trying to get pregnant over here. Sex is my life. Not wild monkey sex, though, sadly. We have slightly dutiful procreational sex. Still fun, but not very spontaneous. I think it’s all the mucous checking.”

  “What on earth—” Audrey caught herself and held up a hand. “Actually, you know what? I don’t want to know.”

  “I’ll spare you. I’d hate for there to be no surprises for you if you ever decide to have children.”

  “Thank you. You’re very generous.”

  “So, I’m thinking eight inches, solid girth...?”

  “Jesus, Megan.” This time Audrey glanced over her shoulder, even though she was pretty sure no one else from work was currently patronizing the food court at the local shopping mall.

  “What?” Megan asked, a devilish glint in her eye.

  “I don’t want to think about Zach’s...girth, okay? We’re working together.”

  Not that she hadn’t given some consideration to the more intimate aspects of his body over the past week, most notably when she’d been drifting back to sleep at four o’clock Sunday morning, picturing Zach doing the same thing on the other side of town. She was only human, and he was the sexiest man she’d ever spent so much time with.

  Hands down.

  All he had to do was walk into the room these days and she could feel her body warming. She didn’t even want to imagine what he could do if he put his mind to it.

  Okay, she did. But she wasn’t going to, because she loved her job, and she wanted to get ahead, and sleeping with Zach was the best way she could think of to destroy both those things.

  She would dearly love to discuss all of the above with Megan, however, because that was what they did best. It would be so good to get her friend’s perspective. But Megan would make a big deal out it, along with encouraging all sorts of reckless fantasies and behavior, and Audrey so did not need that kind of encouragement right now.

  It was bad enough dealing with her own inappropriate thoughts and feelings.

  Megan sighed heavily. “I knew it. You’re wasting this golden opportunity by squabbling with him, aren’t you?”

  “No.”

  Not since the night he’d forced her to see him as he really was. Nope, since then they’d been getting on just fine. Chatting in the staff room. Popping into each other’s offices to pass on new pieces of information they’d dug up. Emailing each other in the dead of night and having inappropriate, unprofessional conversations.

  “Why are you smiling like that?”

  Audrey adopted a more serious expression. “Is that better?”

  “You’d tell me, wouldn’t you, if you and Zach were doing the dirty?” Megan asked beseechingly.

  Audrey suspected her friend was only half kidding.

  “You’ll be the first to know. Outside of Zach, of course.”

  “Cross your heart and hope to die?”

  “Stick a needle in my eye,” Audrey promised.

  It wasn’t as though it was ever going to be an issue, after all. She might be sexually frustrated, but she wasn’t an idiot.

  “Okay, fine.” Megan pointed to the half a sandwich still left on Audrey’s plate. “Are you going to eat that?”

  “It’s all yours.”

  “Thank you. That sub barely touched the sides. I think I’m having a growth spurt.”

  Audrey managed to change the subject then, but Megan’s words popped into her mind as she hit the mall afterward to shop for a present for her sister.

  The truth was, she was finding it incredibly difficult to believe that she had ever not liked Zach. He was funny. He was cheeky. He said amazingly clever things that made her brain hurt trying to keep up. And he was also one hundred percent male.

  Hot, firm, hard male.

  Yesterday, they’d shared a pizza and worked into the night as they pasted their separate sections of the analysis into one coherent report and massaged it into shape. At some point he’d loosened his tie and she’d kicked off her shoes. She’d been tired after days of doing her normal job as well as working every spare minute on the project, but Zach had made it fun.

  Be honest. He made it more than fun.

  Okay, he’d made it exciting. Sitting in the same room with him when the rest of the building was dark and silent had created a special sort of intimacy. They’d laughed and told jokes in between bouts of intense productivity. And they were doing it all over again tonight.

  There was no denying the frisson of excitement that fizzed through her belly at the thought. There was also no denying that she’d dressed with particular care this morning, choosing a black pencil skirt and fitted latte-colored silk blouse that made her feel like a heroine in a forties movie. And yes, she’d even spritzed on perfume, something she didn’t usually bother with for the office.

  “He’s your coworker,” she murmured to herself, in case that rather important fact had slipped her mind.

  “Excuse me, ma’am? Can I help you?”

  Audrey lifted her gaze from the scarf display she’d been eyeing and realized that the sales assistant had overheard her talking to herself
. Such a good look.

  “I’m just browsing, thanks,” she said with a sheepish smile.

  “For yourself or are you looking for a gift?” the young woman asked.

  “It’s a gift, for my sister. Her thirtieth, actually.”

  “Something special, then? Were you thinking a scarf? We have some lovely French silk scarves....”

  Audrey blinked at the display. She had no idea, really, why she’d stopped in front of it.

  “I was thinking maybe a watch, actually. Or a piece of jewelry.”

  “Lovely. Jeannie is over in the watch department. She’ll be sure to help you out,” the saleswoman said, already drifting away to serve another customer.

  Audrey made her way to the shiny glass display cabinets in the jewelry department, finally locating the watches. She did a slow circuit of the cabinets, running her eye over the range, hoping something would jump out at her as being perfect for Leah.

  Her gaze moved from watch to watch, doubt and indecision gnawing at her. Despite the fact that there were only four years separating them, she and Leah had never really been close. She had no idea whether her sister would be all over a watch loaded with shiny bling, or if she would prefer a more conservative, traditional model.

  Funny, because she could still remember how excited she’d been when she’d learned her parents would be bringing home a little sister for her from the hospital. She’d mistakenly believed that it would be her and Leah against the world.