Tall, Dark & Reckless

by Heather MacAllister

  This was so not working. But how could Piper kick Dancie out? Hadn’t Dancie taken Piper in when she couldn’t afford rent elsewhere?

  After hours of being interrupted and tamping down her growing frustration, Piper needed to get away. Returning Mark’s key was the perfect excuse. As a bonus, her hormones had definitely gone cold.

  She left Dancie and Anna assembling a cheap computer desk Dancie had bought, and headed for the Burns building. Piper had already looked up Mark’s office hours and knew he was supposed to be there.

  She could have called first, but, well, she didn’t want to give him a chance to say something like “Leave it in my faculty mailbox.” And she didn’t want Dancie overhearing her. It had been difficult enough to wrest the key away from her.

  Piper’s pulse kicked up a few notches as she opened the door to the Burns building and it wasn’t all due to the walk from the parking garage. She was looking forward to seeing Mark again far too much. Even telling herself everything she would have told a too-eager client had no effect.

  In the foyer, there was a bulletin board where meeting announcements, roommate requests, items for sale and “rides wanted” were posted. Typical collegiate stuff. But Mark Banning’s name on one caught her eye. Piper stopped to read the hand-lettered sign. Mark was advertising for an intern? Seriously? When did he decide to do that? And why? What happened to “I work alone”? Multiple copies of the sign were stuck on doors, trash cans and on the wall by the elevator buttons—places Piper was pretty sure they weren’t supposed to be.

  Mark’s office was on the fifth floor. When Piper stepped into the elevator, she was greeted by yet another copy of his notice. The elevator stopped on the third floor and three girls got in and rode with Piper to the fifth floor. The doors opened and the hallway outside them had more people traffic than Piper had seen in the building so far. She followed the girls and had a feeling she knew where they were going.

  Sure enough, they rounded a corner and Piper saw a pile of papers and folders next to one of the doors. That would be Mark’s office, she guessed. A piece of paper with his name written in the same handwriting as the notice was taped over the nameplate of the previous occupant. It might say “Mark Banning,” but it screamed temporary.

  Temporary. Piper needed to remember that. Mark was temporary. As in, not sticking around. Just passing time until he was off on his next far-flung assignment.

  Piper had wasted enough of her life emotionally investing in temporary men.

  She waited until the girls hesitantly added their résumés to the pile outside Mark’s temporary office, glanced at her and reluctantly left, whispering among themselves.

  Under the pile must be the box Mark’s notice mentioned. Shaking her head, Piper stepped over the papers that had spilled in front of the door and knocked.

  “Leave it outside the door,” she heard.

  Piper snickered to herself and opened the door. “I don’t think you—”

  “If you bring that in here, it goes directly into the trash,” Mark said without looking up.

  Even irritated, the man was a stunner. Cheekbones that could carve a turkey, a manly profile, a thick head of dark hair appealingly mussed in a way that made her want to smooth it from his forehead just to have the excuse to touch him…which she already had. Too bad she’d been in nurse mode at the time and had failed to appreciate the way his body felt against hers. She could appreciate it now. She had a good memory.

  In just the few seconds Piper had stood in his doorway, appreciating the memory of Mark’s body pressed against hers, her hormones had gone from cold to hot and were dancing in anticipation of making more memories.

  Mark sat next to a trash can. As Piper watched, he picked up three résumés, glanced at them and tossed them in. A bulging plastic garbage bag sat next to the bookcase.

  Stacks of résumés were on his desk, the chair, the floor beside his desk and in a messy pile just inside the doorway.

  Judging by all the applications and the girls she’d seen in the hall, Piper guessed her hormones weren’t the only ones doing the happy dance at the thought of Mark Banning.

  Maybe she should apply to be his intern. She didn’t need two hundred and fifty words to say “Pick me and I’ll make it worth your while.”

  Ugh. She shook her head to clear it and the movement drew his attention. He looked up and for a moment, his expression was blank.

  He didn’t remember her.

  Ouch. Talk about a reality check. Piper was preparing to go into full professional mode and reintroduce herself when Mark’s face creased into a breathtaking smile. Literally. Piper had to remind herself to breathe.

  While conducting the interviews for The Piper Plan, she’d met a lot of good-looking men, most of whom knew it, and she’d always been able to acknowledge their attractiveness without being affected by it. Unless she chose to. Which was rare. The point being, she controlled her emotions; her emotions did not take over and make her stand mutely in doorways, acting like a fan girl.

  “Oh—hey.” Mark toned down the smile and Piper breathed easier. “You look—” his finger circled next to his face “—different.”

  That’s right. She’d been dressing for BT yesterday. Relief hit her. He hadn’t forgotten her after all. “I’m wearing contacts and I ditched the Texas big hair.”

  “So this is normal you?”

  Piper laughed and looked down at her slacks and top. “When I’m seeing clients.” Should she have worn something with more pizzazz? No. Anyway, Dancie would have noticed.

  She saw his eyes drop to her feet and slowly move upward. “I prefer normal you,” he said with a lazy smile.

  Piper not only forgot to breathe, she forgot to remind herself to breathe. Only the sound of girlish voices in the hall kick-started her lungs.

  Mark groaned. “Quick. Shut the door.” When she’d done so, he gestured to the chair. “Excuse the mess. Just shove those onto the floor somewhere.”

  “I’m not staying.” Piper had to force the words out because what she really wanted to say was, “No problem. I’ll just sit on your lap.”

  She knew she was in serious trouble because she was more worried about hurting his leg than how inappropriate sitting on his lap would be.

  He’d just boldly checked her out and didn’t mind that she could see him checking her out. And Piper, who knew what was going on, still reacted exactly the way he’d known she would. It demonstrated a self-assurance she rarely encountered.

  Even worse from her standpoint, was how flattered she felt because he’d bothered. Her body had clearly mutinied.

  Time to regain control. She went fishing in her purse. “I forgot to give you your key yesterday.”

  “I hadn’t missed it yet. I’ve been…” He trailed off and plowed his fingers through his hair.

  “I see. What’s going on?” Where was the key?

  “Applications for an internship—with me.” Which Piper already knew. He gave her a chagrined look.

  And, yes, it was utterly charming.

  By now, Piper was completely disgusted with herself. She felt like two people—one clinically observing and the other mindlessly reacting. She needed to get away from him. Why couldn’t she find that stupid key? “What happened to ‘I work alone’?”

  “Still my preference. But if BT wants me to work with someone, I’ll decide who it is. I’d rather train somebody from the start than butt heads with a colleague.”

  He’d done a complete one-eighty from yesterday. Piper wondered what had changed his mind. His leg? “Did Travis talk you into coming back?”

  “I haven’t spoken to Travis.” Mark watched her search in the bottom of her purse for the key.

  This was embarrassing. She picked her way through the papers to the desk and set her purse down. Looking around the small room she said, “These are all applications for being your intern?”

  “Yes.” He picked up a few from the stack on his desk.

  “Since yesterday?”


  “Word spread.”

  “I guess so.”

  He gave her an aw-shucks grin. “What can I say?”

  “Ever heard of email?” Piper took out her sunglasses and set them on the desk, hoping she wouldn’t have to empty her entire purse.

  “Email is too easy and quick. I figured the extra effort involved in printing out and physically delivering résumés would weed out those who were applying just for the hell of it. Also, I wanted to see who could follow directions.” Mark glanced at the top résumé and tossed it into the trash. Same with the next two. He couldn’t have spent more than a second reading them.

  “Didn’t they follow directions?” Piper asked.

  “I’m not working with anyone who doesn’t know how to spell his or her name. Kourtney with a K. Sorry, no. Jenifer with one n.” He sent another one flying into the trash with a little more force. “And especially not Marc with a c. Mark is M-a-r-k. Period.”

  Wow. “What if it’s short for Marcus?”

  “I don’t want to work with a Marcus.”

  “Well, that’s your choice—”

  “Yes.” Toss, toss. Keep.

  “What’s that one’s name?” Piper asked about the keeper.

  “Grace Goodheart.” Mark smiled. “Now, that’s a name.”

  “Probably fake.”

  “Don’t care.”

  Fascinated, Piper watched him quickly dash the dreams of a few more aspiring journalists. Only one résumé caught his attention long enough to scan the second page. Then he tossed it.

  “That was Jennifer with two n’s,’” Piper said. “What was wrong with hers?”

  “She’s a freshman. I’m not taking an eighteen-year-old overseas with me.”

  Piper thought back to the meeting and BT emphasizing that Mark needed someone who could stand up to him. No way would a young intern dare challenge the great Mark Banning. “Your plan won’t work, you know.”

  “Why not?” While she’d been standing there, he’d finished sorting an entire stack and reached for another.

  “BT won’t agree to a college intern.”

  “Sure he will. He knows only a complete monster would take stupid risks around a kid.”

  “They’re not kids and you never think your risks are stupid.”

  He looked up at her. “True.”

  “He’ll still have to approve anyone you take on assignment.” And then she heard herself offer, “I can help you with that. When you’re ready to interview, I can screen the candidates and tell you which ones BT will find acceptable.”

  Mark’s gaze hardened and Piper realized she should have phrased her offer to emphasize compatibility with Mark and not BT’s approval. Oops.

  “By the time we leave, I’ll have been working with my intern for a couple of months. Why would he disapprove?”

  “Because he can,” Piper said bluntly. “It’s about control and reinforcing his image of himself.” And then she quoted the twin’s mother. “You’ve got to go around him, not through him.”

  Laughing lightly, Mark shook his head and continued plowing through the résumés.

  “Actually, hiring an intern is a good strategy,” Piper said. “It shows a willingness to compromise on your part—you did not just roll your eyes!”

  “Look, Piper.” Mark abandoned the papers and sat back in the chair. The fact that his navy crewneck sweater showcased his chest—why hadn’t she been paying attention to his chest before?—was a bonus. “I’ll admit I was curious about you, so I read a few of your columns.”

  He’d looked her up? He’d read her columns? Piper’s heart thudded and she barely restrained herself from asking what he thought.

  No problem. Mark proceeded to tell her. “I’m sure you’re very good at what you do, but there’s a lot more involved in choosing an intern than matching up grid squares to find somebody who can make nice with BT.”

  As a tone of patronization crept into his voice, Piper’s heart stopped thudding and beat normally. “Did you go to my website?”

  He gave his head a slight shake, his expression telling her he hadn’t thought it worth his time.

  Her hormones quit dancing and yawned. The tug of attraction she’d felt withered and died, leaving Piper able to acknowledge his looks without being distracted by them, just as always. She was disappointed. “If you had gone to my site, you would know that matching grid squares is an over simplification. There is more to ‘what I do’ than that.”

  “Right, right.” He rolled the chair behind his desk. “But compatibility is the least important aspect I’ll need to consider.” He actually looked her right in the eyes as he said it.

  “Really.”

  He didn’t seem to be aware that he’d insulted her, which was even more insulting.

  “In our business, you meet a lot of people in all sorts of circumstances.” Mark settled back in his chair, the very portrait of The Great Man Dispensing Wisdom. “Professionals can’t let personalities get in the way of doing their job. The applicants I interview will know that. Personality won’t be a factor.”

  “It’s always a factor,” Piper insisted. “People can suppress their true nature for only so long. Eventually, it comes out.” Like yours just has.

  Mark regarded her with an expression that incorporated a touch of pity for the mere mortal that she was, along with a condescending smirk. Honestly, it made her want to grab the stacks of résumés from fawning students and fling them at him.

  “You have to understand that I’m offering the chance of a lifetime.” He sounded like someone on an infomercial. “An internship with me on a résumé will open any door. It’s a career game changer.”

  How nice that his ego hadn’t suffered from being out of the limelight this past year. “Since the position is so important, I would think you’d want to use every resource available to screen your candidates. After all, you and your intern will have to get along with each other, as well.”

  “It’ll be my intern’s job to get along with me,” Mark stated.

  Yeah, the double-alpha arrogance finally made an appearance. “With that attitude, you’ll never find someone BT will approve of. But I can.”

  Piper abandoned her search for the key and unzipped the inner pocket in her purse where she kept her business cards. And there was the key. It figured. Now she recalled putting it in there so she could find it easily.

  “Thanks, but no thanks,” Mark said just as her fingers closed around his key. “I get that you want to prove yourself to BT. He was pretty harsh.” His voice was full of sympathy. Probably faked. “But you’ll have to prove yourself with somebody else. This is…bigger than you’re used to. The person I take on assignment with me will be operating at the very highest levels of journalism.”

  Oh, please. Typical alpha, thinking he was the most important thing in the universe.

  She’d secretly hoped he was different, but unknowingly, he’d just proved her theories. She was relieved. Truly. She should be running a victory lap. Actually, she should stop wasting time and get out of there.

  Withdrawing a business card along with his key, she set them both on the desk. “I hope operating at the very highest levels of journalism doesn’t leave your intern too dizzy to do basic research, since you clearly don’t have the time.”

  She turned around and walked out, tossing a “Call me when BT rejects your candidate” over her shoulder.

  * * *

  THAT WAS UNFORTUNATE, Mark thought as he watched her leave. But he’d recognized the expression on her face—a bit dazzled and a lot interested. Ever since he’d become well-known, he frequently encountered that awestruck look on women’s faces, especially the young women who signed up for his classes. It was not as wonderful as the Guys of Texas readers liked to believe. A man couldn’t have a discussion of any depth with a woman who looked at him like that. Their minds were off in a fantasyland of romantic possibilities where he was the star.

  A woman looking interested was okay. It w
as the dazzled part that led to trouble. It was hard to snap them out of it. Being subtle didn’t work. Letting them down gently didn’t work. Being a jerk was the only thing that did. But that left them angry and no longer interested. And then they’d tell all their friends that he was a jerk.

  Mark generally extricated himself before it got to that point.

  He was surprised to see the dazzle on Piper’s face. It hadn’t been there yesterday, but yesterday, he’d been in a world of hurt. Not at his best. Not dazzling. Piper had been the only bright spot in an otherwise awful day. He’d liked that she hadn’t been dazzled by him.

  Even so, he’d decided she wasn’t his type. So when she appeared in his doorway looking exactly like his type, there were a few seconds when he might have looked dazzled, himself.

  But not dazzled enough to jeopardize his return to the field. So now she thought he was a jerk.

  He looked at the stacks of résumés and 250 word essays on “Why I want to intern with Mark Banning,” and knew there were more piling up outside. The intern position had gone viral. Social media. Gotta love it.

  Mark pocketed the locker key and picked up Piper’s card. He allowed himself a moment of regret and started to throw it away. He should throw it away, but instead he tossed it into his desk drawer.

  6

  Step six: Get to know your man—and let him get to know you.

  PIPER HELD HER HEAD in her hands as shrieks of laughter reverberated through the walls. It had been a week and a half since Dancie commandeered her waiting room. A week and a half of Piper telling Dancie to be quiet, to keep it down, shushing, holding up a hand, miming zipping her lips, reminding Dancie how sound carried through the flimsy walls, knocking on said flimsy walls and even telling her to use her inside voice. Figuring at least once per appointment with a few reminders thrown in between times, it meant Piper had pointed out over fifty times to Dancie that she was too loud. Without effect. Except on Piper’s blood pressure.

  Worse, Dancie had corrupted the formerly quiet Anna, who now felt free to babble all kinds of opinions that Piper—and her clients—didn’t need to hear.

  But it wasn’t just the noise and the crowded reception area and the lack of privacy. Dancie had started chatting with Piper’s clients and giving them advice. Yes, trading dating stories, talking about men, talking about herself. And since sound carried in both directions, Piper could hear when Dancie contradicted her advice after Dancie clearly eavesdropped on the sessions.