Players

by Rachel Cross

  Brice was stunned. This was not what he’d expected.

  “It was certainly presumptuous of me to assume that the rep would be someone other than the receptionist, but I am pleasantly surprised.” He gave her a shaky smile, and nearly choked on the lie that spilled out of his mouth. I am so screwed.

  “Now that that’s cleared up, before you begin, I have a few questions.” Candace picked up her pen and looked at her notepad, suddenly all business. “Tell me about your company. How long have you been in operation?”

  “The name of the company is Security Matters, and we are an organizational software development enterprise. My partner and I only started the business over a year ago, but thanks to referrals and word-of-mouth, it has grown extensively. We’ve developed various multilevel antivirus software programs for businesses interested in streamlining their IT security planning and operations. Currently, our target audience is corporations with branches nationwide and internationally.”

  “Well, that sounds impressive, but I have to ask, if your main interest is in corporations and big businesses, why take small business referrals?”

  Damn. Not even ten minutes into my spiel, and I’m already busted.

  “That’s a good question. A few days ago while I was giving a presentation, the subject of small businesses came up as a side discussion. Most small business owners know that cybercrime exists, but underestimate the severity of the threat and lack the training and technology to prevent it. Our client believed that corporations should develop programs to educate the smaller businesses, because what affects them could ultimately have a cascade effect on larger commercial enterprises. And I happen to agree with him.

  “I told him that my company was interested in initiating a pilot program to educate and train the small business sector. I asked if he knew of any good candidates for what we had to offer.”

  There, that sounded plausible, didn’t it? And for an idea that was generated completely off the cuff, it sounded good enough to actually consider putting into practice.

  “Um, I guess that sounds plausible,” she muttered, as if reading his mind. “What is your experience in the field?”

  “I worked nine years as a computer programming specialist and software developer with another company, and I have a master’s degree in computer science. Like you.”

  “Do you have a list of references?”

  “Yes,” Brice answered, and handed her a sheet of paper.

  “So far, it sounds like an interesting process, driven by a logical purpose.” Sitting back in her chair, she crossed her legs and gave him a heart-stopping smile. “Okay, Mr. Coleman, it’s showtime. Impress me.”

  “Okay, but to tailor this briefing to suit your specific needs, can you tell me what problem areas you would like to focus on?”

  “I’m concerned about the security of patient files and personally identifiable information, and how to address the threat beyond the traditional ‘wall-and-fortress’ approach. I’d like to know more about access to technical support and how often the operating system is updated with software patches. And I’d like easily accessible computer security awareness training for the employees.”

  Brice felt as though he’d been slapped in the face. She hadn’t been kidding. Candace wasn’t just a pretty face; she was technologically savvy and an honest-to-God computer geek. Suddenly he was caught up in the thrill of being with a woman who was sexy, beautiful, and the same freaking computer nerd that he was. Forgetting all about his anxieties and his hastily thrown together harebrained idea, Brice pulled out a chair and sat down next to her.

  “Those are very valid concerns, Ms. Brown, and I’d be happy to address each one.”

  “Please, call me Candace,” she interrupted, the sound of her voice softly tinkling in his ears, rolling over his scalp, and sliding down his spine. But this time he ignored the sensation, amazed at how much easier it was to do, now that he’d discovered there was more to her than just a pretty face.

  “All right, then. Candace it is. And I’m Brice.” Brice then segued into his presentation. They engaged in a back-and-forth discussion throughout his briefing, both excited about the prospect of applications, until his hour was finally up.

  After putting away his equipment, he gave her handouts and company brochures along with his business proposal.

  “You certainly get into your work, don’t you, Brice?” Candace chuckled as his excitement winded down.

  “Yes.” He laughed. “I have to admit I get a certain kind of thrill from talking about computer techno stuff. It’s my bread and butter and my second love.”

  “Second? What’s your first?” She smiled openly and looked directly into his eyes.

  “Music.” He was standing too close, staring too deep, and falling too fast into those honey-colored eyes. “It gives me a kind of freedom.” Now that the mental rush had dissipated, he quickly reverted back to feeling those incredible sensations he experienced each time he was near her. Candace returned his stare, her brows raised and her gaze inquisitive.

  “So, Candace.” He took a step back and made a concerted effort to break the threads of the spell she was weaving around him. “What do you think? Are we in bed together, or what?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Business. Are we in business together?” he quickly amended, feeling a slow burning heat travel up the back of his neck and make its way to the tips of his ears. “Dr. Jeffers said if I sold you on my proposal, I could consider it a done deal. Are you sold?”

  “Yep, I’m sold. It’s a deal.” She stood and offered her hand. He accepted.

  Chapter 8

  Brice sat in his usual spot on his oversized sofa, cradling his saxophone like a lover. Tonight, his mind was on Candace. The day’s mission had failed miserably. In fact, it had made matters worse, because the more he’d learned about her, the more he was attracted to her. He’d walked away from his meeting more confused than when he’d started. Everything about that woman had him twisted into knots. Not good.

  He rested his chin in his hand and thoughtfully considered the unopened bottle of tequila on the table. Normally he didn’t much care for hard liquor. An ice-cold beer was his usual preferred poison. But tonight he might have to make an exception. Maybe a searing fire in his belly could make him forget the red-hot heat running through his veins. He got up and grabbed a shot glass, a knife and cutting board, a saltshaker, and a small bowl filled with limes. He returned to his seat and cut the limes into several wedges, and then broke the seal on the bottle and poured his first shot. The drink went down as smooth as silk, warming his innards as it streamed to his stomach, chased by salt and the biting tang of lime.

  He picked up his saxophone again and leaned back into his position of meditation, his mind was blessedly blank. Then, out of nowhere, Homer’s The Iliad and The Odyssey popped into his head, the two epic Greek tales of Ulysses’s journey back to Greece after the Trojan War. The return route took the ship close to the Isle of the Sirens, mythical sea nymphs who possessed voices so irresistible they drove sailors mad and lured them to their death. Ulysses brilliantly saved the crew by filling their ears with melted wax. However, wanting to hear the voices for himself, Ulysses ordered his men to lash him to the mast of the ship. When the ship passed the Isle, the nymphs’ voices were so compelling he fought and begged to be released. But fortunately, the wax prevented his men from hearing and obeying him, thereby saving his life.

  It was no wonder Brice kept comparing Candace to a mythical siren. Everything about her reminded him of something out of a fantasy. With her looks, charm, and unbelievable voice, she could have stepped directly off the pages of a fairy tale. All she needs is a pair of fluttering wings, a magic wand, and some fairy dust. A chilling feeling traveled down his spine, and all of a sudden he felt a lot like Ulysses—fighting against his restraints and losing his grip on sanity. Leaning forward, he selected another lime and poured another shot.

  • • •

  He woke with a
start, his eyes wide open and staring unblinking at the ceiling. His heart pounded hard as the lingering vestiges of a fantastical dream still swirled in his head. He lay in dazed silence, remembering the dream in shockingly vivid detail . . .

  They lounged upon a large blanket in a luscious green meadow under the low-hanging branches of a massive oak tree and picnicked on wine, fruit, and cheeses. Both were dressed in white, she in a long flowing pristine linen wrap, her arms, neck and shoulders exposed, and her feet bare. He wore linen drawstring pants and a matching loose-fitting shirt, completely unbuttoned. His chest and feet were bare. Her tawny brown hair, highlighted with streaks of strawberry blond, was springy and full of curls that spiraled around her face and fell about her shoulders. Looped around her neck was a long, wide chain of gold that held a large iridescent seashell amulet nestled between her breasts, and her ears were adorned with golden hoops. The warm rays of the sun shimmered radiantly on her soft, brown skin, and he lay there in the shade basking in the glow.

  She fed him grapes, sunshine, laughter, and kisses, and he greedily took all that she offered. He could lie there forever with his head in her lap and her fingers running lightly, lovingly through his hair. They spent the day bathing in joy, whispering of love and wishing for forever after—until a sudden shift in the wind brought the smell of the ocean with the late evening breeze. His heart fluttered as he felt the harbinger of change that drifted in on the wind.

  She stood and turned her head, listening to a voice only she could hear that seemed to come from the ocean beyond. He came to his knees and took her hand and placed it on his heart, to keep her with him a while longer. “No. Not yet,” he begged. She smiled sadly and touched her fingers first to her lips then to his, then turned and ran across the meadow toward a stand of trees. Her white wrap flowed and billowed loosely in the breeze. She was a spirit in the wind.

  He jumped up to follow, running through the trees to stop her. When he reached the end of the woods, he saw her standing at the edge of an overhanging cliff, facing the waters with her arms held high above her head. She looked like a high priestess. Her voice rose in song and went out across the waters to answer the call. The sound, melodic and magical, held him immobile, frozen in place. She spun and gave him one last look, then turned back to the ocean and jumped off the cliff’s edge.

  The spell broken, he ran forward to look over into the depths, to only see the white wrap floating on the incoming tide. He dropped to his knees, his face in his hands and his shoulders shuddering from grief and loss, until he heard a loud splash and the siren’s musical voice once more. And there she was. Her beautiful hair had thickened and lengthened to cover her now-naked torso. Her arms were wrapped in golden bangles, and her necklace sparkled and glittered with the light of the setting sun. She cupped her hands to her mouth and sent a message on the wind, whispering that she loved him and that she’d see him again.

  Then she was gone. The last thing he saw were the beautiful, iridescent blue-green scales of a very large fanned fishtail as it disappeared into the ocean . . .

  Brice stuffed his face into his pillow and groaned out loud. Too much alcohol and too much imagination equaled one hell of a dream. He rolled over flat on his back and stared up at the ceiling. He was stunned by the detailed memory of color, texture, and emotion—especially the emotion. It was so real he swore he could literally feel an ache in his chest.

  “That’s the last time I try to drink an entire bottle of tequila all by myself.” He dragged himself out of bed and stumbled into the bathroom and was confronted by his reflection in the mirror. He saw sleep-tangled hair, the darkened shadow of a morning beard, and bloodshot eyes. He was still fully clothed. What the hell happened last night?

  He stripped and got into the shower, hoping the hot water would clear the cobwebs. It helped, some. But his head hurt like hell. Afterward, he wrapped a towel around his waist and put on a pot of coffee.

  The first sip of the hot liquid scalded his tongue and throat as it traveled down to his stomach. He didn’t care that it hurt. The pain was penance for his stupidity. He took another sip, more cautiously now, and let the black gold warm him inside and ease the thumping in his head. He took his coffee and stumbled over to the breakfast nook and sat down. He lowered the cup with still shaking hands and turning his jumbled thoughts inward, he began to take silent inventory of his life.

  At thirty-five, he was still single. It was by choice, not by fate. He enjoyed his life the way it was: free and uncomplicated. He wasn’t afraid to settle down, but dammit, he wasn’t ready yet. He’d watched as most of his friends took the plunge either into committed relationships or matrimony, David being the most recent to fall. So far he’d managed to sidestep the trap and keep his distance, but it seemed that everywhere he looked, love was in the air. Like some kind of virus. And he had a sinking feeling that he was about to be infected. Because no matter how hard he tried to fight it, he knew with every fiber of his being that Candace Brown was every bit the threat he’d first perceived.

  Chapter 9

  “Doctor Jeffers’s office, how may I help you?”

  “Hi, Candace, it’s Brice. How are you doing today?”

  “Hello, Brice. This is a surprise.” There was a slightly puzzled note in her voice. “Isn’t it customary to give a potential client a couple of days to review the proposal?” Her teasing lyrical lilt poured through his veins.

  “Yeah, I know it’s ridiculously early to be calling, but I guess I’m feeling a bit anxious. What did your boss think of my proposal?” He was stalling. For the first time in his life, he didn’t know what to say to a woman.

  “To be honest, I haven’t brought it to her yet. She’s been busy. But I promise I’ll get with her today, even if I have to tie her to her chair.”

  “Yeah, okay. That’s great, Candace.” He paused and took a big breath. Get to the point, you idiot, before you lose your nerve. “But I think I should come clean about the real reason I called.”

  “There’s another reason?”

  “Yeah, there is. To be honest, I didn’t call to ask about the proposal at all.”

  “You didn’t?”

  “No. I called to ask if you’d have dinner with me.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “I’m inviting you to have dinner with me.”

  “Yes, I’m sorry. Of course you are.” She sounded confused. “I heard you the first time. You just took me by surprise, that’s all. Why are you asking me out to dinner? You don’t even know me.”

  “That’s why I’m asking you out. I want to get to know you.” He contemplated all of ten seconds before making up his mind. He’d gone this far; he might as well take the plunge. “Look, Candace, I’m going to be honest with you. I’ve been trying to avoid this very thing since the first time I saw you, and I don’t mean yesterday. We both know we were in the same place at the same time four days ago. I was attracted to you then and it grew even more after our meeting. And, at the risk of blowing the possibility of your saying yes to my out of left field invitation, I may as well confess that I engineered the entire security meeting just to meet you face-to-face. And before you get the wrong idea, I’m not a stalker or a psycho, because believe me, I really tried to ignore the attraction. But I figured the best way to get you out of my system was to ask you out, and try to find something about you that I couldn’t possibly like.”

  • • •

  Although taken completely by surprise, Candace found his self-proclaimed predicament endearing and she couldn’t help but interject a bit of humor into the moment. “I’m sorry to hear I’ve been the source of such irritation. I can’t help but feel that I’m an innocent party in this, um, situation. However, I’d like to point out that we have a pending contract proposal between our two businesses. Now, in my mind, that presents a problem that falls somewhere between personal influence and professional ethics. For all I know, you may be trying to wine and dine me for the sake of a signature on a contract.”

&nbs
p; “No problem, I’ll withdraw the proposal. Consider it null and void, and you can shred it.”

  “Wait a minute.” She laughed. “I like the proposal, and my boss needs what you have to offer.”

  “Then make up your mind, woman,” he teased. “What’ll it be? Are you going to let a small thing like ‘ethics’ stand between doing the right thing and saving a man’s reputation?”

  “Reputation? What sort of reputation are we talking about?”

  “I’ll tell you all about it over dinner when you say yes.”

  “How about I let you know later? I need time to think this over.”

  “Sure, Candace, no problem. But to give you some peace of mind, we can meet anywhere you want, and I’ll leave you with all my personal info. I don’t want you to feel pressured or uncomfortable. I want you to feel safe.”

  She smiled at his thoughtfulness. She’d been on plenty of dates, but never with a guy who’d ever been so concerned about her state of mind. That alone was pushing the odds in his favor. “Okay, Brice, I’ll take your invitation into consideration and get back to you later today.” After taking down his personal information, they talked for a little while longer. He cracked jokes as he plead his case and had her laughing out loud.

  She was still glowing over the call when Joyce arrived at the office.

  “Good morning,” Joyce delivered her normal cheerful greeting, then immediately became suspicious upon seeing the look on Candace’s face. “Okay, spill it, right now. What’s put that ear-to-ear grin on your face this early in the day? Because whatever it is, I want some of it.”