The Geek Billionaire Makeover

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The Geek Billionaire Makeover Page 8

by Theresa Meyers


  “Look, how do you expect me to mold you into something to catch her attention if I don’t have any idea who she is?”

  For four days all they’d worked on was imagery, breathing techniques, and mantras in an effort to work through his fears, but she needed to know what kind of scenarios to put him in if he were indeed shooting for the attention of someone specific.

  “You’re going to tell me. You have to.”

  “Aubrey Wymer.”

  Caroline stared blankly at him. She’d never heard of her.

  He looked away from her, as if he were embarrassed to be telling her. “She’s Senator Wymer’s daughter, and he’s the head of the Senate committee that deals with aerospace commissions.”

  Ah. Suddenly the pieces clicked into place. She was part of his business plan. All the warm, fuzzy thoughts that had begun to sprout in her mind about Josh and how he wasn’t as mercenary as she’d originally believed frosted over and withered. The desire to find those plans for Mr. X and be done with Josh got another boost. “So she’s a pawn in your plan.”

  His jaw ticked. “Sounds bad when you say it that way, but I guess it’s accurate.”

  Caroline set down her glass and shook her head. “No, I get it. You’re focused. That’s not a bad thing, but Josh, what about Aubrey? What if you break her heart after this when you get what you want?”

  He laughed out loud. “Break her heart? I’ve never broken anyone’s heart. That means women would have to want me for more than my money, and that has yet to happen. That’s why I quit trying.”

  “You really haven’t taken a good look at yourself lately, have you? With a little more work on your fears, you’re going to be everything women want. Funny, handsome, rich.”

  “Handsome, huh?”

  Caroline sighed. “That’s not the point. What are you going to do once you get her attention?”

  “Date her.”

  “Have you really dated before?”

  “Yes, but most of them don’t stick around once they figure out I’m not an ATM.”

  Caroline started pacing. “This will require some research. We need to know what she likes. Where she hangs out. Who her friends are.”

  “Now who is sounding calculating?”

  She pointed a finger at him. “You’re the one who asked for this. Don’t forget it. Are you sure you want Aubrey Wymer?”

  …

  Hell no. He didn’t want Aubrey past what it might do to encourage her father’s interest in Aeon. He knew nothing about her except who her father was and what he was capable of. He really wanted Caroline. In his bed. She’d drawn a very defined line in the sand between client and employer. But sand shifted. He’d find a way to get her to see him as more than just an employer. Just thinking about kissing her derailed his thoughts and he realized Caroline was talking and he hadn’t heard a word.

  “Well?” she said, clearly expecting a response from him.

  “Sorry. Say it again?”

  “Are you ready to get started?” She left her spot against the counter and started walking back to his living room. He had no choice but to follow. Her dark hair shifted, revealing her neck. At one time all he’d thought of was getting her to talk to him, to kiss him. But now that he’d done that he was thinking of far more he’d like to do with her. How would her skin feel beneath his fingers? The way each hollow and dip of her form might taste. Her soft jasmine scent teased him further. It was a miracle he could think straight around her, let alone keep focused on their lessons.

  The furniture was pushed back against the walls, a team of fifteen lifelike mannequins with ugly wigs set up in clusters as if they were gathered at a social function. The first four days had been spent working on techniques she said would help him navigate a crowd without freaking out. On the fifth day they added more and more mannequins to the room and she made him walk among them over and over again, trying to desensitize him to the sensation of people surrounding him in close quarters. Today was day number six and he was growing antsy, wanting to move on.

  “Let’s try it again,” Caroline said, her tone no-nonsense but encouraging at the same time.

  “This is a waste of time.”

  “Deep breath, hold it. Walk through the crowd and repeat your mantra.”

  Josh deliberately closed his eyes, letting the words roll silently through his head: I’m safe. I’m in control of the situation. I know exactly where I want to go. He let the words echo inside him and seep into every pore, taking him over. He took one deep breath, then another, letting the tingling sensation in his hands and feet go back to normal. It was so much better than it had been even a few days ago, and his vision no longer blurred as he stared at the gauntlet of mannequins. He slowly and deliberately walked past them, then turned on his heel and marched back. “I don’t get the same feeling from them. They’re just big dolls and I know it. Look, I’m not even breaking out in a sweat.”

  Caroline crossed her arms and gave him a smile. “Good. You’re ready to move on to a real cocktail party.” She turned to the mannequins. “You can move now.”

  Then the damnedest thing happened. The mannequins moved. They pulled off their wigs and made themselves at home, sitting down on his living room furniture. He recognized them instantly. It was his executive team from Softech. Caroline had handpicked them knowing they had the most invested in seeing him succeed.

  “Man, I had no idea how tiring it was to stand still,” Carvales said. He grinned, clapping Josh on the shoulder. “You’re doing great, Josh. Just keep doing whatever she’s telling you.”

  His first instinct was to throttle Carvales. He kept expecting his mouth to move, for words to come out, but nothing did. He’d truly thought they were mannequins, just like the other times she’d made him practice. He’d hardly paid any attention to them. He’d been focused on her. The way her waist curved in from the flare of her hip. The slope of her neck and shoulder, and the sweet-smelling skin just below her ear. The knowledge that he’d breezed through a group of people and not felt a thing shocked him. It had been easy.

  Too easy.

  He finally pulled enough brain cells together to form a coherent reply to his friend. “I didn’t realize you moonlighted as a dummy, Carvales.”

  Carvales grinned. “Not that far off what you pay me to do every day, man. I just sit around and class up the joint.”

  Josh laughed. He knew better. Without Antonio Carvales at the helm of his PR department, the entire deal for Aeon’s liftoff would have fallen apart.

  “She’s like some sort of miracle worker, isn’t she?” Carvales said.

  Josh crossed his arms and leaned in a bit closer to his friend. “Yeah, well, it’s going to take a miracle for me to snag the interest of Aubrey Wymer, if we’re going to pull off this contract to get Aeon off the ground.”

  Carvales lifted one dark brow. “Got to give her credit. She aims high, doesn’t she?”

  “Caroline Parker doesn’t know the meaning of low expectations.”

  Carvales nudged him with an elbow in the ribs. “Good. You need someone to keep you in line.”

  “She’s my image coach.”

  Carvales winked. “Sure, boss. Whatever you say.”

  Was his interest in her that obvious? Shit.

  He turned to Caroline, trying to concentrate on just her in the crowded room. “Well, coach. Now what?”

  She gave him a smile that fisted around his heart and squeezed. “I think you’ve earned a break for tonight. You’re progressing faster than I expected.”

  He just wished the same were true of their personal relationship. He had to get her to fall for him…not the other way around. And for once in his life he was failing miserably. “Are you taking the evening off, too?” he asked, trying to keep the hopeful tone out of his voice.

  Caroline shook her head. “I’m going to research Aubrey Wymer and come up with a plan guaranteed to get you on her radar.”

  “Workaholic.”

  She grinned. “Takes o
ne to know one.” She gave him a side hug. “Rest up. Tomorrow night, we’re going out.”

  …

  The clink of glassware and the low hum of conversation in the bar competed with the blare of a sports broadcast on the televisions. The hot, greasy scent of fried food and the smoky tang of barbecue wings competed with mismatched perfumes and the odor of beer.

  She’d deliberately picked a place that was a better-than-average hole-in-the-wall near C-Link field, rather than anything too upscale in Belltown or Bellevue where he might be recognized by the techie set.

  Caroline ignored the attention from the men in the room and looked intently at the women. This was the strangest date she’d ever been on. Okay, really, it wasn’t a date, she had to admit to herself with a twinge of something she didn’t recognize. She pressed her knuckles into the ache below her sternum to ease the sensation away. This was just business. Either way, people were going to assume she was either bi or gay because of how she was checking out the women, and Josh was either her beard or her best friend. The lighting was low enough that it was a challenge to see much. She nudged Josh with her finger into his shoulder, and found it smarted just a little when it hit solid muscle. “What about that one?”

  Josh threw her a sideways glance. “She looks like you.”

  Caroline tapped her finger on the polished wood of the bar. The woman had vaguely the same color and length of hair, but was also tall, gorgeous, and had a killer body. The two of them couldn’t be more dissimilar. Was that how Josh saw her? “You have to start somewhere. Just get her to notice you when you walk by. You don’t even have to talk to her yet.”

  Josh took a sip of his microbrew and eased off his barstool. He tugged on the sleeves of his jacket and rolled his head side to side like a linebacker going into the last quarter of a football game. He glanced at her. “Okay, coach, I’m going in.”

  She gave him an encouraging nod and watched his broad shoulders melt into the crowd as he crossed the crowded bar. From the slow pace of his steps she could tell he was doing his deep breathing exercises as he walked. They’d practiced enough for him to be able to move through a crowd and block them out.

  He was back in fifteen minutes, his mouth set in a grim line. “This isn’t going to work.”

  Caroline nodded to the bartender and he slid a short glass with a caramel-brown liquid over ice in her direction. She nudged it in front of Josh. “Drink. It’ll help.”

  He raised one brow in silent question. “Contrary to what you might believe, drinking doesn’t give courage, it only makes me look like an inept drunk, rather than merely inept.”

  She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose, and gave her head an exasperated little shake. “You aren’t going to make this easy for either of us, are you?”

  He picked up the glass and took a sip. “You picked the good whiskey, didn’t you?”

  She nodded.

  “Why should I make this easy? It isn’t easy for me. And you aren’t the one out in the spotlight with no clue what to do, are you?”

  “My services for clients usually don’t include teaching them how to become a consummate pickup artist, but in your case I can see I’m going to have to make an exception.”

  “Why?”

  “Because if you want to get on that list in People magazine, you’re going to to need some eye candy hanging off your arm in every photo they take of you in public.”

  “But I can pay—”

  She instantly cut him off by raising her hand in a firm stop motion. “They’ll know. It has to be genuine, or they aren’t going to buy it.”

  “Fine. What’d I do wrong?”

  She shook her head. Where the hell did she start? “You can’t approach a woman you are interested in dating like it’s a business meeting. They aren’t interested in your agenda and they aren’t going to hang on your every word hoping you’ll agree to their proposal.”

  “I don’t act lik—”

  She put a finger on his mouth and stopped him mid-argument. His lips were far softer than she expected and a shot of awareness zinged up her arm, making her own mouth tingle as she remembered the kiss they’d shared. “Yes, you do. Look, you paid for my expertise, you might as well take it.”

  He frowned. “Then what am I supposed to say?”

  “You’d better sit down. This could take a while.”

  Josh grabbed his drink and followed her to a booth. He grumbled and slid over the vinyl seat until he was an arm’s length away. “Fine, Yoda. Teach me, you will.”

  She twisted in the booth seat to face him. “Step one: get her attention. Make eye contact. Hold it long enough that she recognizes you’re looking at her, but then look away. You don’t want to just be staring at her, because that seems stalkerish.”

  “Eye contact. Get her attention, then break eye contact. Got it.”

  He was staring deeply into her eyes, repeating her words, but watching his mouth move drew all her attention. If he was as good at other things as he was at kissing, what would it be like to spend a night with him?

  No. Stop. Off-limits. You’re supposed to get other women interested in him.

  “Where was I?”

  The corner of his mouth lifted in a half smile that told her he’d noticed her distraction. “Eye contact.”

  “Right. Eye contact. Chances are once you’ve made eye contact she’s going to either be intrigued by you or be totally disinterested. If she’s sending out interested signals, but still not coming over to see you, that’s when you send out your wingman.”

  “My what?”

  “Wingman. The guy, or girl, who’s the buddy on your side who’ll tell her what a great guy you are and how she should meet you.”

  “Isn’t that a bit—”

  “A bit what?”

  He shrugged. “Junior high?”

  She laughed and covered her mouth with her hand. “Yes, but we’re starting with basics. All this begins in junior high and we get a little more discreet about it as we age, but the basics are the same.”

  Josh stared at the glass in his hand, his thumb tracing an arc in the gathering condensation on the glass. “I still don’t see why I shouldn’t just go over and introduce myself.”

  “Because you want to make her come to you. It puts you in the power seat.”

  His intense blue gaze connected with hers, making her suddenly very aware of how she was dressed.

  “What if I see a woman I want to talk to, but she shuts me out after I look at her?”

  All the signals his body was throwing off, the angle of his shoulders, the way he leaned toward her, the rapid pace of his breathing, all indicated he was interested in her. Her pulse rate increased and her skin heated in automatic response, but she deliberately ignored the signs.

  She broke the connection between them by looking out over the crowd inside the bar. “Good question. You’re thinking strategically now. If you don’t have her interest you can use your wingman to engage her in conversation, then stroll in later and have him or her introduce you to your target.”

  “I prefer to fly solo. What if I don’t have a wingman?”

  She looked at him. “Then you can always try the bait-and-switch approach.”

  He frowned, looking a bit confused.

  “I thought it might be easier for you to grasp if I used the advertising equivalent. Bait and switch is simple enough. You go up to whoever looks like your target’s best friend and start talking with her. Focus your concentration on the friend. Then once the conversation is going, introduce yourself and have her tell you both her name and the target’s. Once you have that information, then you can start including the target in the conversation as well.”

  A grin worked at the edge of Josh’s sexy mouth, daring her to lean in and kiss him. “You know this isn’t much different than being in an acquisition or merger meeting. You have an objective you desire and you keep chipping away at the negotiation until you get what you want. I like it.”

  Caroline place
d a hand on his shoulder. It was far more muscular than she anticipated and she resisted the urge to squeeze. “Do me a favor—don’t talk about business when you do get your target’s attention. That’ll end things faster than anything else.”

  He glanced at her hand. A jolt of attraction sparked in the air between them, enough that she physically felt the wash of heat across her skin and a jolt up her arm. “Step two: Keep the conversation going. Women like to be listened to, rather than talked at.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “No. Wrong response. Let’s try that again with, ‘That’s interesting. Tell me more.’ Draw me into the conversation. Do a little mining on what my likes or dislikes are.”

  His eyes brightened and he leaned in closer. Her stomach flipped. “You mean like researching a competitor for acquisition for their weaknesses for a potential merger.”

  “Something like that, I guess. Remember, no business references.”

  He locked his gaze on her, the intensity of the blue sucking in her attention, making her want him to peel her out of her dress. “Hmm,” he said, his tone dropping an octave so it sounded like the bedroom voice of a Hollywood actor. “That’s interesting. Tell me more.”

  It was so over the top that she fought the urge to burst out laughing. Her lips twitched as she struggled not to even crack a smile. She needed to encourage his progress no matter how slight. “Much better.”

  He gave her a sly grin. “And how did you find out about this technique?”

  “A friend taught it to me.”

  “Uh-huh, and where did you meet this friend?” He took one of the olives in the bowl on the table and popped it into his mouth.

  “At a gay bar. He was my college roommate’s brother and he had a knack for picking up any guy or girl he wanted.”

  Josh launched into a coughing fit. Caroline was afraid he sucked the olive down the wrong pipe and was going to choke. She pounded him on the back. “Are you all right?”

  Josh waved her away, but still kept coughing, tears streaming down his cheeks. She realized he was both coughing and laughing.

 

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