by Tina Holland
Laverne didn’t miss a beat. She was familiar with Peter’s less than subtle sense of humor along with the inability to admit when he was wrong. Sometimes, she felt more like a parent than a secretary. She watched out for Peter’s best interests, professional and personal, and probably understood his motives better than anyone else. “Bill has to install a patch. It should be completed before the end of the week.”
“Anything else?”
“No, that should cover it. I’ll get you the number for the florist as soon as my porn is done downloading.” She winked back at him and returned to her desk.
He reviewed the portfolio in his hand. Peter wasn’t surprised that Buzz called him. Damn! When did the stocks go up? They were only up a few points, but Buzz was purchasing them by the hundreds, and the money would soon stack up. Peter questioned if he missed something when he originally reviewed the stock. He picked up the phone and dialed Buzz’s office.
His secretary answered. “Buzz Caulfield’s office.”
“This is Peter Kane. I’m returning Mr. Caulfield’s call.”
”One moment, please.”
As Peter waited, he looked again at the flowers. Why hadn’t he figured out this problem with the stock sooner? He was pre-occupied with the pursuit of Sydney. Granted, there hadn’t been any pursuit yet. Nevertheless, he was already more infatuated with her than with any woman of the past. He made a mental note to try and stay more focused on tasks at hand, not where he wanted his hands to be. He thought of her breasts under the white halter-top as they'd eaten breakfast. I’d love to touch her—
“Peter! What the hell kind of Mickey Mouse operation are you running? You may be able to rob me in the air, but I’ll be damned if you’re gonna steal from me where I live!”
“Buzz, calm down.”
“Calm down! Have you seen the morning paper?”
“This is not totally unexpected. We need to watch it a few more days, to see where it will trend. Remember when you bought Tekno Plastic, and the roller coaster that was?”
“Hell, yes! But it was brand new.”
“Technically, this is, too. The stock’s been public fewer than six months. If you want, I can have Laverne fax over their latest prospectus.”
“Now, that sounds like the first capital idea you’ve had.”
“I want you to be comfortable with where we put your money.”
“So do I. Now, how ‘bout sending over those plane specs of yours?”
“I don’t think so, Buzz.”
“Hell, it was worth a try.”
“Indeed, it was.”
Peter hung up the phone as Laverne walked into the office. “Laverne, I’m going to need a prospectus for Mr. Caulfield’s latest investment faxed to his office.”
“Not a problem.” She still stood there.
“Yes?”
“I have the floral shop’s number. It’s local. I made a phone call, and they informed me that Miss Sydney Wagner always orders flowers from them.”
“Really? Why’s that?”
“Because it’s right next door to her own storefront, The Starving Artist.”
“Which is?”
“A bookstore.”
“Laverne, you are a gem. Lunch is on me.”
“If lunch is on you, why not pick it up at the bookstore, they have a café too.”
“Did I mention you are a genius?”
“No. However, I’ll remind you when I need a raise.”
“Agreed.” Peter grinned, if all went well, Laverne would get her raise.
Peter arrived at The Starving Artist within fifteen minutes. He entered the small storefront and was assailed by the noise of people. They seemed to fill every chair, every niche. Apparently, Sydney had no trouble keeping the place busy, but he didn’t see her anywhere in the store. Peter waited in line at the café counter. There was a petite brunette with a pixie haircut running her tail off behind the counter. As he looked around the store, he admired the red oak bookshelves and maple floors. The red, green and gold color scheme worked well. Peter wondered who did the decorating. Sydney? If so, she had real talent and should seriously consider taking up a design career.
“Can I help you?” the girl behind the counter asked.
“I’m looking for Sydney Wagner.”
“Why is that?” She placed her hands on her hips and suddenly appeared serious.
“I’d like to speak with her.”
“About?” She was agitating him.
“Nothing that concerns you.”
“If it’s about the store, it does concern me; I’m her partner.”
So, that was the burr in her butt. “It’s not business.” He tried to give her a dazzling smile. “May I speak with her?”
She squinted skeptically at him before speaking. “Wait over there.” She gestured to the chaise lounge in a corner near the window. “I have some customers to wait on and then I’ll fetch her from the back.”
Peter complied; he didn’t have much choice. He sat down. What a horrible person to have to work with…
* * * *
Sydney stared at the screen in front of her. How did they contract a virus in their payroll system? Ugh! She and Courtney would pull an all-nighter on payroll. At least we’ll have coffee this time. The last time they did payroll was right after they opened. It hadn’t been done in almost a year, since they got the new automated system, complete with punch clock.
“Syd?” Courtney stepped into the office. “Something wrong?”
“Looks like we’ll have to dust off the calculators and brew the Braun all night; we’ve got a virus in the payroll system.”
“Crap! How’d that happen?”
“Wish I knew. We’re lucky there are only three of us working here or this would be a nightmare.”
“Did you call someone about the virus?”
“No, but that’s a good idea.”
“Oh. I thought maybe…” Courtney paused.
“Maybe what? You wanna try it? Court, the last time you touched this thing, I had to re-install half the software.
“Once again, I’m sorry about the systems crash. I’m not computer literate, okay? Besides, that wasn’t what I was going to mention.”
“Sorry. I’m listening.”
“There’s a suit here to see you.”
“You don’t think it’s one of those building permit guys, do you?”
“God, I hope not.” Courtney turned about three shades of red, and responded, “I was rather rude. Told him I was a partner, and he could speak with me. Only, I wasn’t quite that tactful.”
“Jeez, Court! You gotta learn to think things through.” She got up and started walking down the hall, toward the opening right behind the café counter. “Where’s he sitting?”
“In the alcove, by the window.”
Sydney eyes swept past Daisy working the counter and instantly turned around, pressing her back against the wall, hoping he hadn’t seen her. “How did he find me?”
“You know him! Who is it?”
“I can’t believe he found me.”
“Is he a stalker? Do you want me to call the police?”
“Why should I have a stalker?”
“For the…”
Sydney cut her off. “No need to call the police. He’s not a stalker. Peter’s a stock-broker.” She laughed at the pun.
“Stock-broker? What do we need a broker for?”
“We don’t. I met him on my way to Missouri.” Sydney found herself receiving the questioning look. She refused to acknowledge the gaze.
“On the way, not at the convention?”
“That’s right,” Sydney replied tersely, hoping her tone would put a stop to this questioning.
“Is he your detour?”
“Not that way.”
Courtney gave her a yeah-right look.
“I had a flat tire; he changed it for me. Afterwards, we ate breakfast together.” Courtney started to laugh. “What? What’s so damn funny?”
&nbs
p; “You.” She wiped her eyes. “If you aren’t the pot, and I’m the kettle. You just got done telling me how I don’t think things through and you’re getting help from total strangers. You had a phone to call home. Apparently ‘not thinking’ is in our genetic code.”
“It’s just that he was…”
“Tall? Blonde? Handsome? I do believe Gwen has finally converted you.”
“Gwen has not converted me! If you would let me finish my sentence, I’d tell you that he was there when I’d about given up changing the tire myself.” That sounded believable. "Trust me. You would have been the first person I called at four in the morning.”
“You didn’t leave until four-thirty.” Courtney corrected. Sydney thought her sister’s expression was smug.
“Whatever. I should have called. Now, if you don’t mind, I’ll go see what he wants.”
Courtney watched her sister stomp away. Sydney was pretty sensitive about this. The circumstances gave Courtney pause as she watched the couple interact. For the first time, she saw a man that might lure Sydney away from the life they struggled to build. Courtney was relieved that her sister may have found Mr. Right, yet saddened that she could lose Sydney. Of course, he might only be Mr. Right Now, which would do just as well.
* * * *
As a shadow fell across The Fargo Forum, Peter’s eyes traveled up. He never saw a more annoyed face. Sydney was quiet spectacular when irritated. Her displeasure was unmistakable, but he couldn’t suppress his pleasure at seeing her.
“Hello.”
“What are you doing here?” She was definitely peeved at him.
“I came to thank you. The flowers were a nice gesture, but totally unnecessary. I already enjoyed your company, serving you. That was thanks enough.”
“Serving me? Weren’t you satisfying your curiosity and serving your libido?” Her luminous sapphire eyes seemed to search for his true motives.
“I did satisfy my curiosity. I’m still hoping to satisfy my libido,” he admitted with a chuckle.
“Is that what you want now? Satisfaction?” She put her hands on her hips as if that would stop him. It wouldn’t. He found her challenge arousing. There was something about the fire in her eyes that made him want to dominate her.
Peter stood as he spoke. “I would like satisfaction.” Leaning over, he whispered into her ear “That can come later. First, I’d like pleasure.” Peter paused. He couldn’t resist. He leaned back, studying her face. He wanted to see the reaction in her eyes but was unable because they were closed. “The pleasure of your company, say, over dinner?”
Sydney opened her eyes. Peter saw curious, profound longing, followed by a blush. "Dinner?”
“Yes. The pleasure of conversation. The satisfaction of food. What did you think I meant?”
“You know very well what I thought.”
“I have no idea. Would you care to enlighten me?”
“No.” The blush began to spread, and he began to harden.
“Maybe you’d like to explain this pleasure and satisfaction over dinner?”
“I can’t.”
“You’re a writer. Do you have trouble with words?” He loved teasing her.
“I meant I can’t have dinner with you.”
“Why not?”
“Boyfriend. Remember?”
“I was hoping you’d forget," he mumbled.
“What’s that?”
“How bad could it get? I’m just asking you out for dinner.”
“You insinuated something entirely different.”
“Did I? What would that be?” Peter spoke a breath away from her lips.
No answer.
Peter lowered his gaze and saw her staring at his lips. Who knew the trick to quiet her pretty, little mouth was to tempt it? This discovery increased the pressure in his already hard cock. “Miss Wagner?” Stepping back, he waved his hand.
The spell was broken.
“Dinner?” Peter really needed Sydney to say yes.
“Just dinner?” She seemed wary.
“Did you have something else in mind?” The double meaning of his gaze was obvious.
“No! Dinner is fine.” A blush crept into her cheeks and he hoped her mind was bombarded with the same images he had.
“Okay.” Peter leaned back, assessing her reaction.
“Where are we going?”
“How ‘bout we decide when I pick you up?”
“All right.” She seemed to relax.
“Where should I pick you up?”
“Here’s good.”
“Seven-thirty?” He peered at her intently.
“Sure.”
“See you then.” Peter began walking towards the door. “I look forward to it.”
“That makes one of us,” Sydney mumbled.
Chapter 5
Peter pounded on the glass door again. Meet her here, that’s what she said. He thought Sydney would be working late. The bookstore was locked up and closed for the night. Peter turned, frustrated, and headed back towards his car.
“Mr. Kane.”
Circling around, he was speechless. He told Sydney to dress up. Under dressed was more like it. She was wearing an unadorned black cocktail dress with a plunging neckline, exposing a fair amount of cleavage. Peter made a mental note to take her dancing and get a better view. She wore a double-strand pearl choker, and her hair was down, one strand curling and outlining a nipple, teasing him. A shame she didn’t have bare legs, with those black pumps. Peter felt like lifting that dress and pumping into her. “I was worried you changed your mind.”
“I was afraid I’d be changing my doors. These are glass, you know. Not meant for a beating.”
“Let’s say I was impatient.”
“Let’s say you owe me a new door if this one cracks anytime soon.”
“Deal. You ready?”
“I need one thing from upstairs.”
“Upstairs?”
“I have an apartment upstairs. You wanna tour?” She motioned for him to follow and led him past the deli counter, down a hallway then up a set of stairs right before an office.
Peter pursued Sydney up the stairs. As she swayed, he was left speechless. Not only did her hips swing seductively, but he managed to catch a glimpse of stockings and garter straps. Peter paused to breathe.
“There’s more to see up here.” She beamed back at him. “Come on.”
Did Sydney have any idea what that phrase suggested to him? Or the exquisite torture her ensemble was putting him through? Did she care? Peter doubted it. Sydney would probably laugh, and her breasts would vibrate, and her lips would curve up and her sparkling blue eyes would dance … Peter shook his head and followed her up. How was he going to get through this night?
When he reached the top of the stairs, she pointed to a door on the right, “This is my brother’s room.” Sydney turned left to turn around the railing, pointed to her right again “My sister’s room.” They continued along the banister, towards an open area on the left of the L-shaped hall. “This is our living room and over there to the left is our kitchen/dining area. If you need the bathroom, it’s off the kitchenette to your left.”
“Where are you going?” Peter asked as she headed to a door off the right.
“My room.”
“Need any help? Undoing a zipper? Washing your hair?”
She laughed. Her breasts bounced, and she closed the door. Torture! There was no other word to describe the ache in his groin.
Peter glanced around, hoping to find a distraction that wouldn’t perpetuate the hard-on he already had. Their living room windows were the same style as downstairs, and they had put cushions in to add extra seating. The kitchen did seem rather small. Four bar stools on the living room side of a counter served as a dining room. The living room looked to entertain, whereas the kitchen seemed designed for more intimate family gatherings. She mentioned a sister and brother. That was good; at least she had protection. “Where are the siblings at?” He asked loudly.<
br />
“They went to my mom’s,” she responded from the other side of the door.
“Where’s your mom live?”
“North side.”
“Dad?”
“Good question,” Sydney said as she entered the room. “I think I have everything.”
“What you were missing?”
“My lipstick and an evening bag."
“The evening bag you need. The lipstick will come off.”
“Not if I can help it,” she vowed.
* * * *
Sydney observed Peter with lowered lashes as he drove to The Constellation, a rooftop restaurant downtown. She wasn’t sure how much longer she could maintain a cool façade. Peter was wearing black slacks, a white shirt, and no tie. The first few buttons on his shirt were undone, making Sydney want to undo the rest. How was she going to make it through the night without leaping on him? She must be getting desperate.
She could kill Lance for his lack of interest. Lance wasn’t to blame for how their relationship turned out or for her attraction to Peter. A discussion between her and Lance was long overdue.
“You look sexy,” Peter’s voice interrupted her notions.
“Um … thanks.”
“You’re welcome. You don’t take compliments well.”
“Does anyone?”
Peter chuckled. “More than you know.”
“I always thought it a sign of vanity.”
“You aren’t vain?”
“There’s a big difference between vanity and pride.”
“I agree. You are prideful.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Do you forget how we met? You’d no doubt still be fumbling with that tire cover," he teased her.
“I think you like the idea of a woman being helpless. If you hadn’t come along, I would’ve been lost. You must have a hero complex.”
“If helping someone makes me a hero, I’ll accept that.”
“I take it back. You think your God’s gift to women.”
“I’m not God’s gift to women.”
“Really?” Her voice was ladled with sarcasm.
“I wouldn’t mind being your gift, though.”
“Maddening, that’s what you are.”
“No need to get mad. You can un-wrap me later.”
“I think there’s a little bit of the devil in you.”