Men at Work

by Karen Kendall, Cindi Myers

  “Of course not. You’ve never expressed any desire to model. Why would I do that?”

  He eyed her suspiciously. “I don’t believe you.”

  She stared limpidly back. “I don’t care what you believe.”

  “You had nothing to do with me being offered a contract as the new face and body of Rugged Wear?”

  “Oh, Ben! That’s fantastic!” She rushed to him and smooched him on the cheek. “Is it a good offer?”

  “It’s a multimillion-dollar offer! And I’m a complete unknown. Why, I’m asking myself, would I get this kind of deal unless somebody very influential was behind it? Someone, say, who has an interest in me being financially solvent so that I get over my pride and marry her.”

  Wide-eyed, Marina just blinked. “Ben, you’re barking up the wrong tree. I know hardly anyone in New York. Especially not in advertising or modeling. And, honestly, do you think I’d get that Machiavellian?”

  He looked deep into her eyes and frowned. She could see him wavering. Then he folded his arms. “Yes. Yes, I think you would.”

  Uh-oh. The only answer to this was a good old-fashioned hissy fit. “Oh, really? Well, Ben Delgado, you have a hugely inflated sense of your own importance, not to mention a paranoid streak a mile wide! Do you think I’d waste my time plotting and scheming to this degree? Just to get you to marry me?”

  He pursed his lips. “Yes.”

  “Well, I never! How dare you accuse me of such a thing? How dare you?” She stomped her right foot in her new shoe, but instead of making a satisfying crash, it only made a soft thump. Worse—it bounced, sending her knee up to collide with her breast.

  Ben tried to hide a smile. “I’m a very daring kind of guy.”

  She was so appalled at kneeing her own breast that she couldn’t answer. And it hurt!

  “I’m also a pretty forgiving kind of guy, since I know that if you did meddle it was mostly for a noble cause—me.”

  Marina snorted. “Like I said, you have a hugely inflated sense of your own importance. But even if—hypothetically—I had arranged for an agent to see your pictures, you are the one they want. You. I couldn’t possibly have engineered the Rugged decision. Or are you trying to insinuate that I flew to New York on a red-eye, broke into the CEO’s Madison Avenue office and slipped him a rufie so that I could influence him?”

  Ben ruminated on this for a moment. “Knowing you, it’s not completely out of the question.”

  “Yes, it is, especially since the children’s hospital has my Lear at the moment. They’re picking up sick kids in Guatemala.”

  “I thought you were giving up the Lear?”

  She bit her lip. “Most of the time. But never mind that. Face it, Delgado. I had nothing to do with your offer.”

  He stepped so close to her that she could feel his body heat. “Face it, Marina. I know you’re lying.”

  She stepped away before he could actually touch her. “Think what you want. But you have no witnesses and no smoking gun.” She smiled angelically, brushed past him and went into her office. When he didn’t follow, she whirled to find him dialing numbers into one of the foundation’s phones. “What are you doing?”

  “Chloe, it’s Ben,” he said, holding the receiver to his ear. “Yes, Ben the Small. Listen, I was just calling to—” The line went dead and he turned to find Marina holding the detached phone cord.

  “What are you doing?” she asked, her cheeks hot.

  “What’s it look like? Checking up on you. Chloe spends half her life in New York. If anyone has an agent buddy there, it’s her. And Chloe won’t lie to me—it’s not her style. She prefers brutal frankness.”

  “She’s out of town,” Marina said a little too quickly.

  “Oh, I see. Well, then I’m sure you can give me her cell-phone number, being her best friend and all.” Ben smirked.

  “Fine. You caught me. I did have Chloe set it up. But like I said, it’s your face. Your body. Rugged wants you, not the five hundred other guys they’ve looked at. And, that, I don’t control. I refuse to apologize, by the way, so don’t even go there.”

  “Nonapology accepted.”

  “Really? That’s so nice of you. How about a thank-you?”

  “You refuse to say you’re sorry. I refuse to thank you for something that I never asked you to do. Are we even?”

  She glared at him. “Are we getting married?”

  “You know, I’m an old-fashioned kind of guy. I like to do the asking in these situations.”

  “You already did. Then you changed your mind. I figure it’s my turn to ask now.”

  He shook his head, an annoying little smile playing over his mouth. “Nope.”

  This time she took off her engagement ring and threw it at him. It hit him square on the breastbone and bounced off, landing in Liz Olmos’s in-box. She blinked, looking very much as if she wouldn’t mind tackling the project right away.

  Ben scooped it up and put it into his pocket. “You’re not going to manipulate me like some kind of puppet, Marina. I’ll do the asking again when I’m good and ready.”

  Her heart leaped at his words, which implied that he did still want to marry her. Yet her temper snapped at the idea that he wanted to keep her on the line, like a trout, until he chose to reel her in.

  “Great, Ben. Have it your way. But by the time you’re good and ready, I just may be taken.” And with that, she shut her office door in his face.

  9

  BEN WAS EVEN LESS amused after he returned from his first trip to New York to meet his new agent. Mathew Tremaine announced, out of the blue, that he’d just created a new landscaping division of his company. And, quite coincidentally, he wanted Ben to come in as a partner and help him run it.

  Ben didn’t believe for an instant that Mathew had come up with this idea on his own. He went to his office and looked into his watery blue eyes. He noticed them blinking rapidly, artificially wide in Mathew’s frog face.

  “C’mon, Tremaine,” he said in easy tones. “This reeks of Marina. How much did she give you to start this division of yours?”

  Of course Mathew denied it, his prominent Adam’s apple bobbing up and down with every unconvincing lie.

  Ben eyed him skeptically. “What’s the payoff for you, hombre?” He snapped his fingers. “Oh, I’ve got it. You wait until we’re turning a profit and then I buy you out.” He laughed. “That’s good, I have to hand it to her.”

  Mathew blustered that Ben had it all wrong.

  Ben folded his arms across his chest and nodded. “Let me guess, she came in here wearing something cut down to her navel and shamelessly manipulated you. Did she drop a pencil and bend down to pick it up?”

  “Don’t know what you’re talking about,” Tremaine muttered, turning three shades of red.

  “Did she ask if you’d been working out? Playfully feel your bicep? Come close and bend over and whisper into your ear?”

  Beyond speaking, Mathew just shook his head. But his wormy, shamed demeanor gave him away.

  “Tremaine, those are the oldest female tricks in the book, mi amigo. Agarrate a una mamita! We need to get you laid.”

  Mathew looked as if he’d like to drop through the floorboards. But still he maintained his innocence—and Marina’s. Unbelievable.

  Finally, he recovered his voice. “I mean it, Ben. I’d like you to come on board and help me get this new venture off the ground. There’s a lot of profit in it, if we do things right. And with you there, I know we’ll succeed. You’ve got the background and the know-how and the management experience for this.”

  Ben eyed him shrewdly. “Yeah. And I’ve got the shameless hussy of a fiancée who’ll stop at nothing to manipulate a man if it will get her closer to her goal—me.”

  Mathew straightened in his chair. “Pardon me for getting personal, Delgado. But just what is your issue with marrying a gorgeous, rich woman who will jump through hoops to make sure that you’re happy?”

  Ben stared at him.

&n
bsp; “What if—and I’m not admitting anything, here—you’re right, and she set all this up for your benefit? What’s the problem? Essentially, she believes in you enough to invest in your business.”

  “I—er—”

  “You saying she’s wasting her money? I don’t think so. She may act like an airhead but that woman’s got a talent for numbers.”

  “I’m saying she’s interfering.”

  Mathew kicked his feet up on his desk and leaned back in his chair. “Well, that may be. But you don’t give her much choice, now, do you?”

  “¿Perdón?” Ben said. “I mean, excuse me?”

  “Well, hell, boy. You won’t accept her dough when she offers it to you straight. You won’t treat her as an equal, as a business partner. So she damn well has to sneak around behind your back.”

  “Aha!” Ben declared. “So you admit it.”

  “I don’t admit squat. All I’m saying is that you’re so worried about her being your…your…patron or something that you downright patronize her. And then you get pissed when she tries to do a little creative problem solving.” Tremaine grinned at him.

  “A little creative problem solving?” Ben asked incredulously. “What you mean is a little lying and manipulating and cheating.”

  “Strong terms. Very strong—for a guy who gave his word and then went back on it.”

  “What the hell are you talking about?” Ben started to get truly angry.

  “You asked her to marry you, didn’t you? And then you broke it off.”

  “I—”

  “You, what? Did the noble, righteous thing?” Mathew snorted. “Because you couldn’t give her more money that she doesn’t need?”

  Ben closed his mouth.

  “Is it pride, Delgado? Or is it that you don’t feel you deserve such good luck? A woman who looks like that, loves you to distraction and has millions on top of it all. Well, I gotta tell you, if you don’t think you deserve it, then plenty of guys will be lining up to take your spot. Me, for one. I will never forget that kiss as long as I live—Hey!”

  In one fluid, savage motion, Ben had yanked him out of his chair by the tie. “Kiss? What do you mean, kiss, pendejo?”

  “No tongue!” squeaked Tremaine, as Delgado pulled him across the desk. “No tongue, no tongue, no tongue!”

  Ben let go and Mathew dropped back into his chair, clutching his throat. “You’re an asshole.”

  “You kissed my fiancée,” Ben said.

  “No, she kissed me.”

  Ben growled and started to grab him again.

  “It was a goodbye kiss, you moron!”

  “Well, why didn’t you say so?”

  “Christ Almighty. Get out of here and stop being a bully to me and a wuss to her. Go solve your relationship problems. Then you can give me an answer on my business proposition.”

  Ben eyed the frog-faced, balding beanpole in the bad tie who dared to call him, Delgado, a wuss. “Fine,” he said. “I’ll let you know.” He struggled for a moment. “Thanks,” he finally said.

  “My pleasure,” Tremaine told him. Then he winked, the bastard.

  MARINA SAT with an artificial smile on her face, opposite a man with a boxy jaw and oddly rectangular eyes. His name was Kirby Keller and he was selection number 121 from a local dating Web site. She was not impressed.

  How could a man’s eyes be rectangular, for heaven’s sake? Had he gotten some kind of cosmetic surgery? Come to think of it, his mouth was rectangular, too. And his chest.

  He had no lips to speak of, but his mouth was moving. At least it was until he put his beer bottle to it. Putting a round peg into a square hole, she thought, her brain far away from the conversation. She smothered a yawn and tried to ignore the fact that the underwire of her bra dug savagely into her flesh.

  “Don’t you think?” Kirby the Rectangular asked.

  “Pardon?”

  “Have you heard a word I’ve been saying?”

  “Oh. Um, of course.” She smiled.

  Just then the waiter appeared with the entrees Kirby had taken the liberty of ordering: Salmon for her and swordfish for him. “Pepper for madam?”

  “Mademoiselle,” Marina corrected. “And no, thank you.” She looked up and froze. Ben was making his way purposefully across the restaurant, his dark eyes fixed on her.

  “Pepper, sir?” the waiter asked Kirby.

  “Yes, please,” Ben said, from over her dinner date’s shoulder. “However, you may remove this very large and unwelcome hors d’oeuvre.” He looked at Kirby with contempt. “Surely, he’s not to your taste, mi corazón?”

  Marina put her hand over her mouth.

  The waiter gaped like a white-jacketed guppy.

  Kirby Keller turned and glared at Ben. “Who are you? And what the hell do you want?”

  “Her,” said Ben, simply. “I’m her fiancé. Please leave.”

  “Fiancé?”

  “I don’t have a fiancé,” said Marina, pointedly. “This man is delusional.”

  “Of course you have a fiancé,” said Ben patiently.

  “I do not. You haven’t asked me to marry you again, and I haven’t accepted. Now, do you mind? I’m out on a date, Ben!”

  Other guests in the restaurant started to notice the commotion at Marina’s table.

  “Yes,” Kirby emphasized, “she’s on a date, and—”

  Ben ignored him and spoke only to her. “Unfortunately, mi vida, I do mind.”

  Keller pushed his chair back, stood and almost rammed his cubic jaw into Ben’s. “Do I need to teach you a lesson?”

  Ben’s eyes gleamed. “No, for I have already learned it. But many thanks, señor. You are so kind to offer.”

  “Smart-ass,” Kirby grunted. And then he threw a punch, which didn’t work at all well, since Ben blocked it.

  He got an arm around Ben’s neck in an attempt to haul him backward and out of the restaurant, but Ben apologetically flipped him onto his back, knocking the breath out of him so that Keller lay there on the floor with his eyes bulging, heaving like a large-mouthed bass.

  The entire room fell silent except for a few shocked murmurs.

  “I’m so sorry!” Marina said to Kirby, whirling on Ben. “Stop it! You’re ruining my evening, you jerk.”

  Ben countered by dropping to one knee. He fished her engagement ring out of his pocket. “I only meant to ruin his evening. I’d like to feature as the highlight of yours, mi amor. Will you marry me?”

  She put her hands on her hips. “You’re proposing to me over the body of my date?”

  Ben shrugged. “Sí.”

  “Do you have any idea how rude and socially unacceptable this is?”

  Two large and burly men wearing white aprons emerged from the kitchen and headed toward them, while the buzz of other restaurant patrons grew louder. “I believe that these two gentlemen may be about to inform me,” Ben said. “So will you take the ring or not?”

  With an exclamation, Marina snatched it and jammed it onto her finger.

  “Out!” said one of the burly men to Ben. “We do not tolerate assault and battery in our dining room, sir.” The other one bent over Kirby and offered him a hand up.

  “Actually,” Marina said, “the gentleman on the floor threw the first punch.”

  “After extreme provocation!” Keller said, outraged.

  “But you did throw the first punch.” She smiled at him sweetly. “Look, Kirby, I’m sure you’re a very nice man and you’ll make someone a wonderful husband one day. But sweetie, we have nothing in common and I despise piña coladas, which you ordered for me without asking. So run along now, won’t you, darling?”

  Kirby Keller cast Marina a look of dislike. “Run along? You sure think you’re something special, don’t you? Well, you’re just a—”

  “Do not make me knock you down again, señor,” said Ben. “This time it will be much more forceful, I assure you.”

  Keller snarled at both of them, dusted off his jacket and trousers and stalke
d out of the restaurant, muttering invective.

  “Wherever did you find him, mi corazón? He looks as if he was popped out of a loaf pan.”

  Marina couldn’t help but laugh. “He’s a very nice man. I met him through an online dating service.”

  “A what? That is not acceptable. You will remove your photo and name from it immediately.”

  “Awfully dictatorial, aren’t you? For a man who has no claim on me.”

  “You’re wearing my ring, señorita.”

  “But I haven’t said yes.”

  “You will.” He advanced upon her, a dangerous gleam in his eye.

  “How do you know? Maybe I just like the ring and I’ll wear it on my right hand instead of my left.”

  “You will wear it on your left hand, fourth finger, please?” But Ben said it as a request.

  Marina elevated her chin. “Why?”

  “To show the world you are mine.”

  “I thought that I was supposed to forget you. That you didn’t want me. That you couldn’t afford me, Delgado.” She tried to keep the hurt out of her voice but didn’t quite succeed.

  “I’m doing my best to ensure that you don’t forget me. And I always wanted you,” Ben said quietly. “As for the other, my circumstances seem to have changed, and I hear that you’re now poor. Especially since Mathew Tremaine seems to have received a large capital influx from a mysterious source. For a new landscaping division of his construction company.”

  Marina widened her eyes in an approximation of childlike innocence. “No!”

  “Save it,” Ben said shortly. But he smiled tenderly at her. “I don’t want to hear your lies, but I do want to discuss the reasons for them—and not in public, in a restaurant. So, mi vida, since I am being thrown out, how would you like to accompany me in my disgrace?”

  Marina threw some cash on the table and put her arm through his. “That has to be the loveliest invitation I’ve ever received,” she said, and kissed him.

  10

  SINCE HE’D BEEN asked to leave Azul, Ben steered Marina to the right, down the stairs and out the door to the Mandarin Oriental’s bar/café, where he promised the hostess no brawling and only minor canoodling if she’d just seat them at the far table to the right on the rail. Below them,, the water of Biscayne Bay rippled gently in the warm breeze.