Once Upon a Dare

by Jennifer Bonds

  “Well?” Chloe prompted. “Quit stalling, Liv. Did you do the deed or what?”

  “Yes,” she admitted, her cheeks flaming with embarrassment at the admission. God, was she really blushing like a virgin? How ridiculous. She was twenty-eight years old, for crying out loud. She could have guilt-free sex with whomever she wanted, couldn’t she?

  “Eeee!” Chloe squealed, piercing her eardrums. “I knew it! I knew it!”

  Olivia held the phone at arm’s length, waiting for Chloe to get it out of her system. She loved Chloe like a sister, but at times like this, she was thankful for her status as an only child. If twenty-five year old Chloe behaved this way, she could only imagine what a handful sixteen year old Chloe must’ve been.

  “Done now?” she asked, cautiously bringing the phone back to her ear.

  “Depends,” Chloe said, sounding like a bipolar chipmunk, all traces of her sullen attitude completely erased. “Are you going to give me the scoop or not?”

  “What do you want me to say? That we went back to his hotel and had dirty, kinky sex all night long?”

  “Umm, yeah.” Chloe sighed. “Man, he was hot. I bet it was amazing. Why can’t I meet a guy like that?”

  “You meet guys like Cole all the time. The one night—”

  “Cole?” Chloe asked, cutting her off. “Even his name is sexy! Are you going to see him again? You have to see him again, Liv. He could be the one!”

  “No, I really don’t, and he is definitely not the one.”

  Was Chloe seriously trying to marry her off to some random bar guy after one night? The sex had been good, but it hadn’t been that good. Or maybe it had been. Either way, it didn’t matter, since she’d never see him again.

  “Please don’t tell me you didn’t get his number.”

  “Okay, I won’t.”

  “Liv! Have I taught you nothing?” Chloe whined. “Seriously, I can’t believe I’m hearing this.”

  “Sorry to disappoint you,” she said, unable to believe her ineptitude at dating was Chloe’s biggest problem. “What can I say? I suck at life.”

  Chloe grumbled something unintelligible under her breath. “You know, I was really hoping you were going to turn over a new leaf.”

  “The kind where I have indiscriminate sex with total strangers?” Olivia asked, laughing in spite of herself.

  “Beggars can’t be choosers,” Chloe conceded. “Any sex would be a step in the right direction.”

  “I’ll tell you what. We can revisit the topic of my love life when I get that partnership. Until then, dating just isn’t a priority.”

  Chapter Five

  Olivia nursed her coffee and sifted through emails. Her meeting with Pritchard was just minutes away, and she was too nervous to manage much else that morning. Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes and imagined her name on the door beside Jonathan’s.

  Pritchard, Masterson, & Associates

  All of her hard work was about to pay off, proving once and for all she belonged in this world, and not upstate with her parents and their antiquated views on women. She was going to get partner, and nobody could say it had been for any other reason than that she was damn good at her job.

  Her work load, which was already out of control, was likely to get even heavier. That meant no more wild nights or one-night stands. Even if Cole had given her the best orgasms of her life. Problem was, she couldn’t stop thinking about him, wondering if she’d made a mistake sneaking out. Which was exactly why she needed to get back on track and put her focus one hundred percent on her work.

  A message popped up on her screen, alerting her it was two minutes to ten. Time to meet with Pritchard. It was now or never.

  She rose from the desk and smoothed her black pencil skirt, hoping Pritchard wouldn’t see through to her nerves. She doubted ‘prone to panic attacks’ was a quality he was seeking in his new partner, the individual he would groom to lead his company when he retired in a few years. Olivia straightened her back and strode down the hall with confidence. She was relieved when Pritchard’s admin Gabby waved her right in.

  No waiting. That had to be a good sign.

  She passed through the open door, pausing when she realized Pritchard already had someone in his office. Odd, he hadn’t mentioned anyone joining them. The hairs on the back of her neck began to bristle as Pritchard looked her way. His face lit up when he saw Olivia and she found herself smiling in return.

  Jonathan could be a bit self-involved at times, but after five years of mentoring, she’d come to think of him as a father figure. Although, truth be told, he was nothing like her own father, who was just as likely to be found tinkering with his tractor as he was picking apples in the orchard. No, Pritchard was nothing like that at all.

  A city dweller at heart, Pritchard wore overpriced suits, had a trophy wife half his age, and maintained an overbooked social calendar. He kept his white hair clipped short and his fingernails manicured, and played squash every Monday.

  Every Monday except this one.

  “I apologize for the interruption,” Olivia offered. “Gabby said to come right in. I didn’t realize you were in a meeting.”

  “It’s fine,” Pritchard returned, motioning her forward from behind his heavy cherry desk. Behind him, an expansive wall of windows revealed storm clouds rolling into the city. Although she didn’t care much for the clouds, she would have killed for those windows in her own office. With any luck, she’d have a new office with an equally breathtaking view by the end of the meeting. “Come on in. We were just talking about you.”

  “All good things I—”

  She stopped dead in her tracks as the man sitting across from Pritchard turned in his chair, revealing his face. Dark gray eyes fell on her, registering the same overwhelming sense of shock that rocked her to the core. In that instant, the oxygen was sucked from the room.

  Olivia couldn’t breathe.

  She couldn’t think.

  Couldn’t move.

  She blinked. Once. Twice. Three times.

  The scene before her remained unchanged.

  Broad shoulders. Unruly black hair. Killer dimples. Cole Bennett. This could not be happening. She wasn’t supposed to see him again—ever. So what the hell was he doing in Pritchard’s office?

  “Have a seat.” Pritchard once again waved her forward like a poodle in need of coaching. Seeing no other option, she complied silently, taking the overstuffed leather chair next to Cole. She managed to avoid looking him in the eye as she crossed her legs and sat stiffly by his side. “Olivia, I would like to introduce you to Cole Bennett, my new partner.”

  No, that couldn’t be right. Did he just say partner? She stared at Pritchard blankly. Speechless. Here he sat in his posh office, pleased as pie with his new partner, while he was ripping her dreams apart.

  She felt as if her world had been tipped on its axis, throwing everything into chaos. Little black dots danced at the edges of her vision, making Pritchard, who was as sharp as they came, appear fuzzy. A cold sweat broke out on her forehead, the back of her neck, and that hollow spot right between her breasts.

  Not good.

  Olivia’s stomach dropped. When it lurched back with the fury of a category five hurricane, she feared her breakfast might make an unwelcome appearance on Pritchard’s desk.

  “Cole, this is Olivia Masterson. Olivia’s my right hand around the office and will be able to show you—”

  “Excuse me.”

  Not giving a crap if Pritchard was offended by her hasty exit, she raced from the room and down the hall, throwing herself through the door of the ladies’ restroom without an ounce of grace or dignity. She quickly scanned the stalls, which, thankfully, were empty. Moving to the sink, she braced her hands against the porcelain bowl and took a deep breath. The face that stared back at her from the mirror was pale and ashen.

  How could this be happening? Not only was she not getting the partnership, but a man who knew her more intimately than most was? Talk about ge
tting royally screwed. There was no way she could face Cole every day. Or work under him, for that matter.

  Olivia had worked so hard to keep her professional life and personal life separate. She’d spent the last five years rubbing elbows with the most eligible bachelors in the city and she’d never accepted one offer of a drink, dinner, show, or museum date. Not even when the super-hot guy from finance had invited her to the invitation-only gallery opening of one of her favorite New York artists. Compared to some of her peers, she’d been a freaking saint. It wasn’t fair. She broke the rules one freaking time and this is what happened?

  Fate was a cruel-ass bitch.

  Shaking with frustration, and needing an outlet for her anger, she spun from the sink and kicked the metal trashcan with all the energy she could muster. It banged against the wall, so she kicked it again for good measure.

  The resounding clang reverberated through the empty bathroom, bouncing off the tile floor and providing a much needed reality check. As if her day wasn’t crappy enough, she’d just scuffed the hell out of the Burberry heels she hadn’t really been able to afford in the first place. The trashcan hadn’t fared so well either, and was now sporting a rather massive dent.

  Stellar.

  She’d be faced with the evidence of her meltdown every time she came to pee.

  Olivia turned on the faucet and splashed cold water on her face. She had to keep it together. Okay, maybe it was a little late for that, but she could recover from this. She couldn’t afford a total breakdown, seeing as how the floor wasn’t going to swallow her up and put an end to her misery any time soon.

  Sure, she’d been kicked in the teeth, but she wasn’t a quitter. Hadn’t she proven that time and again throughout the years, overcoming everything life had thrown at her? Cole Bennett would be no different. She would go back to Pritchard’s office and hear what he had to say. Then she’d return to her desk and do her job. Come hell or high water, she’d show Pritchard he’d made a mistake.

  She could do this. She had to. What other choice did she have?

  …

  Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Cole hadn’t believed his eyes, or his bad luck, when Olivia had walked into Pritchard’s office. She was wearing a pair of black-framed glasses and her hair was slicked back in a bun, but there was no mistaking those legs or the sway of her hips as she crossed the room. Damn, she had nice stems. He shouldn’t have been looking, but he was only human. And just seeing those legs again got his blood pumping to areas best not roused in the office.

  Eight million people in New York and she worked for Pritchard? He’d have been less surprised if she’d showed up in nine months toting a baby on her hip. No, this definitely wasn’t how he pictured the morning playing out. Judging by the look on Olivia’s face as she’d stormed out of Pritchard’s office, the feeling was mutual.

  He had the distinct impression she’d rather be anywhere else. Not that he blamed her. He was pretty damn uncomfortable himself. But the more he thought about it, the more sense it made. After all, it had been the receptionist downstairs who’d recommended Olive or Twist for happy hour. It was practically in the lobby. Odds were lots of people headed over there to unwind after a long week.

  “I wonder what’s gotten into her?” Pritchard mused aloud. “I hope she’s okay. Olivia’s the best of the lot, a consummate professional. She’ll be an invaluable asset to you as you’re getting acclimated. Smart as a whip and works twice as hard as anyone else on the team. I actually considered making her an equity partner before I heard you were looking to invest in New York.”

  Fuck.

  Was Pritchard really that oblivious? The least he could have done was let her down easily, in private. This couldn’t possibly end well. He’d screwed her brains out and screwed her out of a promotion? No wonder she looked like she was about to puke.

  Guilt racked Cole. He never would have slept with her if he’d known. He could only imagine what she was thinking. Showing up to work and finding out your wild one-night stand was the new boss? That would be a tough pill to swallow for anyone, but for a woman like Olivia? It would be devastating.

  He tuned Pritchard out as he tried to see a way out of the mess that had just become Pritchard, Bennett, & Associates. So much for learning his lesson across the pond—never mix business with pleasure.

  Pritchard rattled on endlessly, but Cole didn’t pay much attention until he abruptly stopped speaking. At first Cole thought he’d been asked a question, but then realized Pritchard’s attention was directed elsewhere. He twisted in his seat to discover Olivia had returned.

  “Is everything okay?” Pritchard asked, rising from his chair. His words were rich with concern, momentarily overriding his usually gruff demeanor.

  “Yes, I’m fine, Jonathan.”

  Olivia reclaimed the empty chair next to Cole, but didn’t so much as cast a wary glance in his direction. She kept her eyes trained on Pritchard as she spoke, her voice taking on a hard edge. He noted some of her color had returned. She didn’t have the flushed look he’d enjoyed Friday night, but at least she didn’t look like death warmed over. It was a start.

  “I’m so sorry about running out of here like that. I had something that didn’t agree with me this weekend.”

  “Oh, not food poisoning, I hope?” Pritchard asked as he gracefully slid back into his chair.

  “No, I don’t think so,” she returned in a dangerously sweet tone. “More like something rotten.”

  “If you need to take the day off—”

  “That won’t be necessary.” She shook her head, dismissing the suggestion. “I just had to get it out of my system.”

  “Well, wherever you went, I hope you won’t be going back.”

  “Mmm. It wasn’t very memorable, so I can assure you it’s a mistake I won’t be repeating,” she replied, turning cold eyes on Cole and acknowledging his presence for the first time.

  Talk about going straight for the jugular. Every fiber of his being bucked at her mocking his sexual prowess, but he’d take his licks—this time. Olivia was hurt and angry and needed to lash out at someone. He could be that bastard. It was a role he knew well.

  The sick thing was, she’d just called him rotten and lackluster, and she was glaring daggers at him, but damn if he still didn’t want her. An image of Olivia climaxing on the desk flashed through his head and he shut it down immediately. The last thing he needed to do was add a hard-on to the already awkward situation.

  No, what he needed to do was steer clear of her, act like the other night had never happened, and move on. That would be the smart thing to do. On the other hand, he had never been all that smart when it came to women. He wanted what he wanted, and damn the consequences.

  He studied Olivia, admiring the long lines of her body and the determined set of her jaw. She was working hard to ignore him. It was sexy as hell. And it only made him want her more. They could still be good together—if he could get her to let her guard down.

  Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all. Chemistry like theirs was meant to be explored, not stamped out. Perhaps fate had intervened on his behalf. He had wanted to see her again. Not that she was likely to let him get within five feet of her—at least, not naked. He’d have to work on that. If everything Pritchard said was true, and it probably was, since the old man was sparing with his praise, she was an incredibly valuable asset to the company. They couldn’t afford to lose her. He would have to find a way to make things right between them. If only to prove to himself that he hadn’t completely fucked up again, pissing away his future like his old man had.

  Dissolving his partnership in London and relocating to New York hadn’t exactly been the long-term plan, but then again, long-term plans didn’t seem to work out for him. Pritchard had needed an influx of cash, and Cole had needed a fresh start away from the memories London held. PBA might have been a marriage of convenience, but he intended to make the most of it, bringing a portfolio of powerhouse clients and sinking the majority of his assets into th
e company. Despite recent cash flow problems, Jonathan had built a solid agency with a great reputation in the advertising industry. Together, they would take PBA to the next level. He’d do whatever it took to make that happen, because the fact was, he had to succeed in New York. And success meant fixing things with Olivia.

  Maybe she just needed some time to adjust to his presence. She was a passionate woman, but when the flames died down, who knew? For Cole, there was only one certainty: the idea of having those legs wrapped around him again was tempting. Yes, he would definitely have to work on getting under Olivia’s skin the way she’d gotten under his. But first he’d have to earn her trust, and that was going to be an uphill battle all the way.

  Chapter Six

  Olivia removed her glasses and tossed them onto the desk blotter. She closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose. Her head was throbbing and the Tylenol stash she kept hidden in her top left drawer was depleted. Thankfully, it was almost quitting time.

  This would be a day for the record books, because she planned to be out the door by five-oh-one and on her way home to a nice bottle of merlot. She wasn’t normally one to drown her sorrows in alcohol, but if Pritchard’s earlier bombshell wasn’t wine-worthy, what was? A soak in the tub didn’t sound half bad either. She’d slough off the day and start fresh in the morning. Tomorrow would be a better day. It couldn’t be any worse.

  A knock at the door startled her. She didn’t have any appointments scheduled, and normally no one dared come by her office this late for fear of getting sucked into an evening work session. Her team was strong, but none of them shared her dedication or drive. While Olivia lived to work, most of them favored Chloe’s “work to live” philosophy.

  She opened her eyes to find Cole leaning on the doorjamb, arms crossed over his chest like he owned the place, which, technically, he did now. The whole thing smacked of “boys club”. He flashed her a dimpled smile that she suspected was meant to be disarming. It only pissed her off more.