by Rita Herron
You're right on time, young man. I'm glad you could come."
"I'm pleased things are working out, sir." Zack slid into the seat across from Washburn, accepting a mug as Washburn filled it from the pitcher.
"Let's toast and eat first, then we'll discuss the details,"
Zack raised his mug and clinked it with Washburn's, then sipped his beer, determined to remain professional. They ordered the lunch specials, steak and baked potatoes, and Washburn attacked his food the way he attacked everything else, with gusto. Finally, the man finished and wiped his mouth.
"Now, that was a fine meal." He cleared a space, removed the drawings Zack had dropped off from his brief case and opened the file. "You, son, are a genius. I never would have thought of using something like this to sell laundry detergent."
A drawing of some dirty boys dumping their grimy clothes into a washing machine—he thought that was ingenious?
"I must admit I was apprehensive about using a new man, but you seem to have a knack for knowing what sells." Washburn patted the checked tablecloth. "And a face and body like that will do it every time."
The kids were cute, but a body? What was Washburn talking about?
Zack's gaze fell to the drawings, and shock bolted through him.
Dear God, he'd given Washburn some of the sketches of Jenna, the first ones he'd drawn of her in the bubblebath! His eyes widened in alarm at the same time he lost his breath.
"Soak your troubles away in a nice bubblebath," Washburn read aloud. "Now, I like that, but I was thinking you might want to punch it up a little."
"But, uh, Mr. Washburn," Zack tried to explain the mishap, but he stumbled over his tongue.
Washburn's eyebrows furrowed. "Maybe, Crystal White is as gentle as a bubblebath," Washburn said with a grin. He chugged his drink. "What do you think?"
"No..."
Washburn's glass paused in mid-air.
"I mean, yes, the slogan is fine, but—"
"That face is really appealing, beautiful but down to earth," Washburn said, admiring Jenna's heart-shaped delicate features.
Beautiful and down to earth; that was Jenna.
Zack started to sweat. Thank heaven, she was covered in bubbles, but what if some of the other sketches had accidentally gotten in there?
His mind raced as he fumbled for an excuse. He could say she was purely fictional, a composite of several women he'd seen, but then if Washburn insisted on using them anyway, Jenna might see them—along with half the U.S. population.
"You think she'll model for a TV commercial?"
"No... I don't think so. In fact, she was just someone I spotted in a crowd. But we can find a real model, I'm sure." He would not have Jenna's face and body plastered all over anybody's ad, much less TV.
"But I want her," Washburn said. "So find her and tell her she can set the price."
Most likely my head on a platter, Zack thought morosely. The waiter approached with coffee, and Zack reached for the drawings, ready to stuff them back inside so no one else could see. But he lost his balance and nearly tipped out of his seat. Washburn cleared his throat just as the waiter grabbed his chair and steadied him.
"Are you all right, son?" Washburn asked. "Can't handle the beer this early in the day?"
"I'm fine," Zack stuttered as he wiped his forehead. "But I really don't think this lady can pose for us," Zack said. "She probably has her own business, no time, I simply threw this idea in as a suggestion—"
"I don't want an argument," Washburn said, his chubby cheeks growing ruddy. "I want this woman's face in my ad. Now, let's drink to our deal."
Zack swallowed his protests, his mind searching for an alternative plan. He would find a substitute that Washburn would approve of, because he definitely couldn't tell Jenna about the sketches, especially now that they had gotten into the wrong hands.
Not only would she think he'd used her, she would kill him.
* * *
Zack pumped harder, working his legs and arms to a punishing frenzy while he jogged the last mile around the park. He'd called, but Jenna was at her class.
Dammit to hell and back. How could she make love to him, then go out husband hunting?
Because she'd given up on him...
"Slow down, man. What are you doing, trying to kill me?" Mark asked.
Zack sighed and slowed his pace. "Sorry, I've got a lot on my mind." Like how I'm going to tell Jenna my biggest account, is based on whether or not she wants to pose nude in a bubblebath, and that I've been drawing erotic drawings of her ever since we met.
"What's wrong? Business?" Mark asked. "'Cause if you need a loan—"
"I don't need a loan." Zack stopped mid- track, then jogged over to a park bench and dropped onto it, panting. Mark followed and dropped down beside him.
"I really screwed up," Zack said, dabbing a towel across his sweaty face.
"Don't tell me, it's a woman."
"Worse. Business and a woman." He winced and looked at Mark, well aware Mark wasn't going to like what he had to tell him. Still, he needed advice. He'd belabored the problem all afternoon and was completely brain dead.
"It's Jenna."
Mark clenched his jaw. "I warned you—"
"Just shut up and listen," Zack snapped. "I really care about her, Mark."
That comment silenced Mark quickly.
"Well, man, I never thought I'd see the day."
"Yeah, but I don't know what to do about it."
"Does she know how you feel?"
Zack remembered their intimate night.
Mark must have read his mind because he hissed. "Jesus, you slept with her, didn't you?"
Zack knotted his hands in his lap. "Look, Mark. I didn't trick her or seduce her or anything so don't go off on me, alright."
Mark simply glared at him.
"It just happened. We're both adults, you know."
"And now what?" Mark asked, his face etched in granite.
"Now I'm hung up on her," Zack admitted, wringing the towel in his hands. "And I'm trying to overcome this—you know, this reaction I have every time I think about the big 'C' word."
"Commitment?"
"Yeah."
"Maybe you should see a shrink," Mark suggested.
Zack released an expletive. "That's only half of the problem."
Mark folded his arms. "There's more?"
Zack stood and paced as he explained the situation. "I remember the wind blowing the sketches all over the desk one day and when I stuck them in my briefcase they must have gotten mixed up."
"You are a real piece of work, bro." Mark stood up angrily. "I tell you not to hurt this girl, then you not only take advantage of her but you give clients nude drawings of her."
"I didn't take advantage of her," Zack fumed. "She wanted me, too. And she was covered in bubbles, she wasn't naked."
"Oh, no problem then. I'm sure that'll make her feel better."
Zack's heart sank. "Look, I told you it was a mistake. You think I wanted that man to see those sketches of the woman I'm in love with?"
Mark's dark eyes filled with shock, then slowly a grin split his face. "So, you've finally fallen?"
Zack scrubbed his hand through his hair. "She's driving me crazy."
Mark crossed his arms. "What are you going to do about it?"
Zack sighed in exasperation. "I don't know." The last thing he wanted to do was to hurt Jenna, but no matter how he handled the situation, he'd look like an asshole. "My client insists on having Jenna's face in the ads. If I decline, I'll lose the account."
"You couldn't use those drawings anyway unless she signed a release. You're just going to have to tell her the truth."
Zack draped the towel around his neck, his pulse racing. "About the drawings?"
Mark nodded.
"She'll either think I'm a pervert, an idiot, or that I used her."
"I still think you should be honest. Colleen says it's one of the most important characteristics of a lasting relat
ionship."
And of course, his perfect wife would know. "I suppose you're right." Zack's stomach plummeted.
"Then tell the client 'no' about the sketches and confess your feelings to Jenna," Mark added.
"But there's no way I can tell Jenna how I feel about her if my company's not stable." Besides, he was already feeling nauseous.
"She won't care about the company or how much money you make," Mark said in a quiet voice.
Zack shook his head. "I know. But I care. This whole relationship thing is new to me. The last thing I'd want to do is try to make a... a—"
"Commitment," Mark interjected.
"Yeah, I couldn't do that without knowing I could take care of her. I'm going to spend all night trying to design another campaign for Washburn. Then maybe I can ask Jenna to m... m... move in with me."
Mark frowned. "You want to shack up with her?"
Zack winced. "It's not like that. I just want to ease into things."
"I don't know, Zack." Mark hesitated. "But I agree with you about work. A man shouldn't bum off a woman. Colleen says it's egotistical male pride, but I still believe a man ought to be financially stable before he takes on a wife."
"Exactly," Zack said, knowing he wasn't stable just yet. Not financially or emotionally. "It's a matter of male pride," Zack said.
Mark gave him a wry look. "Colleen says male pride is the death of a relationship."
Zack shuddered. "So men have to give up everything. The remote, our bachelor life, the recliner, and our pride?"
Mark chuckled. "It's not so bad. You get used to it. And there is a trade off."
"What's that?"
"That nice warm body in your bed every night."
An image of Jenna in his bed every night flashed through his mind, and Zack's pulse clamored.
Mark pounded him on the back. "Now I'd better get home to my bride."
Zack swallowed hard and stood, struggling for courage. But the word bride made his legs buckle.
Dear God, maybe he did need to see a shrink.
* * *
Jenna closed the shop, then grabbed her cell phone debating over whether or not to call Colleen. She was going crazy—Zack hadn't phoned or stopped by since their fantasy night.
He'd sent flowers, but she hadn't heard one word from him in two days.
Darn it. She had to accept the inevitable and move on with her life. Go back to class. Continue her husband hunt. Let Colleen fix her up with her friend Blair.
Zack was a wonderful, fantastic memory. And unfortunately the man she loved.
But not the man she would end up marrying.
Her finger slipped on the button and she dropped the phone, deciding to hold off another day.
Her calendar mocked her though. It was the end of the month, almost the end of the year. Her biological clock was ticking away.
So was the month. She needed to see Mark about the budget for her store. Hmm, an idea began formulating—it would be a good day to swing by Mark's office, and maybe while she was there she could fish for information about Zack. She glanced at the floor where they'd made love.
After all, Zack West, her one true love, was worth a little more effort.
Fifteen minutes later, her nerves were strung as tight as an electrical cord as she opened the door to Mark's accounting firm. She'd been there countless times, but never with a personal agenda.
Her stomach knotted.
What would Mark say? He'd warned her to stay away from Zack, that Zack was a womanizer. She'd look like a fool if she admitted that she'd fallen in love with the man.
Mark's secretary greeted her and gestured toward Mark's open office door. Jenna made her way through the seating area, suddenly anxious.
"Jenna, it's great to see you," Mark said, rising from his plush leather chair as she entered. She paused to admire the Atlanta skyline visible through the large picture-glass window.
"I came to drop off my monthly reports."
Mark nodded. "Right on time."
Jenna laid the file on his desk. "Thanks for suggesting your brother for my new ad campaign. His new slogan should have the store booming with customers."
Mark's smile tightened. "I'm glad my brother could help."
Oh, he helped me right into bed. "He's been wonderful," Jenna said, furious with herself when her voice cracked.
Mark smoothed down his tie in a gesture she recognized as nervousness. She'd seen him do it seconds before he had to deliver bad news about a business problem.
"Is there something wrong with my account?" Jenna asked.
Mark's dark eyes drew together. "No, not at all." He chuckled, a little too lightly. Another sign of nerves.
"What is it, Mark?"
He fiddled with the gold-plated letter opener, avoiding her gaze, and Jenna tensed. Zack must have told Mark about their fling. Had he been bragging to Mark?
She squared her shoulders, determined to maintain her dignity. "Zack told you about what happened between us, didn't he?"
Mark's guilty gaze swung to hers. "It's really not any of my business, Jenna."
"No, but Zack is your brother, and you care about him."
"Yes, I do. But Colleen and I care about you, too."
Jenna gave him a grateful smile. It really wasn't fair for him to be in the middle. "Thanks. That means a lot. I value our business and personal relationship, too."
Although images of Zack still tormented her. Fair or not, she had to know the truth. "Mark, what did Zack say about me?"
He pulled his hand down his chin. "He's trying to work out some things. I warned you he had trouble with commitment."
"I know you did." Jenna sank into a blue leather chair and curled her hands in her lap. "It's not his fault I fell for him. He didn't lead me on either. It's just we were so good together that it's hard to believe we won't see each other again."
"So, it's over?"
"I suppose so." Jenna shrugged.
Mark propped his hip on the edge of his desk facing her, his tone low. "For what it's worth, he didn't intend to hurt you, Jenna. To Zack, commitment means having a long-term affair with the same woman. I couldn't believe he was going to ask you to move in with him anyway. Even that would be a big step to him."
Her gaze shot to his. "Moving in together?"
Mark shifted uneasily. "Don't tell me he didn't ask you yet?"
Jenna bit down on her lip. "No."
Mark's face paled. "Geez, I shouldn't have said anything."
"No, I'm glad you did." Jenna sighed. "What else did he say?"
Mark tugged at his tie again. "The mix-up with the sketches, well, things got out of hand there. Zack respects you as much or more than any woman he's ever been with."
Jenna twisted a loose thread on the sleeve of her blouse, confused. "What are you talking about—what mix-up? And what sketches?"
Mark paced to the window, clearly agitated. "It was an accident. I'm sure he's going to tell you about it once he straightens it out with his client."
Jenna's pulse drummed doubletime. "What was an accident?" Jenna asked warily.
"Damn, I've done it again." Mark squeaked. "I should have just kept my big mouth shut."
"Mark," Jenna said impatiently. "Tell me what you're talking about."
Mark stuttered and stammered and apologized profusely, but he eventually spilled the story. Jenna rubbed her temple, a headache threatening. Somewhere in the haze of Mark's jumbled explanation, she'd thought he'd said Zack had admitted he cared about her.
But if he had, why hadn't he contacted her in the past two days?
And why had he drawn nude sketches of her?
"Personally, I'd like nothing better than to see you and Zack together," Mark said, his hand twisting his tie into a wrinkled knot. "But I know my brother, Jen. And I'm sorry. I can't say as he'll ever be ready for marriage."
"And I can't settle for simply living together," Jenna murmured. "And not having children."
Sympathy lined Mark's face. "I'm
really sorry, Jen, but it's probably better you know how Zack is up front instead of getting your hopes up."
Too late for that, Jenna thought, her heart breaking as she realized that no matter how unselfishly she'd given herself to Zack, deep down inside, she'd hoped her love could change him, that she could convince him that the two of them could make a relationship work.
But obviously her love hadn't been enough.
"You know Colleen wants you to meet Blair," Mark said, cutting into the haze of pain surrounding her. "He's a pediatrician, has his own practice."
Mark's last words jarred Jenna back to reality.
"He's stable. Settled down. Colleen even said he works with disabled kids."
Jenna stroked her hair down over her ear absent-mindedly, conscious of Mark's underlying meaning as he regaled her with Blair's assets. She and Zack had never discussed anything serious, much less marriage or a family. There could possibly be problems with a child of her own.
If Zack couldn't commit to her, what would happen if they had a child with a disability?
Old memories surfaced—her parents and how they'd tried to shelter her, her big brother and the way he'd protected her, the schoolchildren who'd made fun of her. Oh, yeah, there could be problems.
Zack hadn't even had the guts to be honest and confess about the sketches and the mix-up with his client. She'd been living in a dream world for the past few days. Had completely forgotten reality. Had allowed her own love for him to make her believe in fantasies.
Her throat thick, she stood, forcing a smile to her lips that was painful in its falseness.
"And Blair likes to ski—"
"Thanks, Mark. Tell Colleen to give me a call." Then she turned and left his office with her shoulders squared. She had survived disappointment and rejection as a child; she would survive now.
It was back to the dating game.
A half hour later she pulled into her apartment complex, her shoulders heavy as if the world had just been dumped on her. Weary, she hauled herself up to her apartment, then checked her mail.
Bills, bills and more bills. Then a letter, Hmm. She sniffed it, and detected the faint scent of a masculine cologne on the letterhead. Suddenly curious, she ripped open the envelope and unfolded the single sheet of paper.
"Join me for a romantic evening on Saturday. Steak, dancing, moonlight... we'll make our own fireworks. Zack."