by Lauren Dane
Which was insane.
Probably just sexual frustration boiling over. He’d never been sexually frustrated before, so he didn’t know how that worked, exactly.
It’d only been a couple weeks since he’d rolled over to find Vanna missing from his bed, but he still couldn’t get her out of his mind. He saw her in his dreams and found himself waking in a needy sweat. He thought of her constantly. That was probably why he’d started mixing her up with Gia in his mind. Crazy since the last thing Vanna brought to mind was brilliant tech skills.
Enough was enough. Luke was tired of this feeling that something—something desperately important—was missing. He was talking to Gia, face-to-face, today.
Except she’d somehow managed to evade him at every meeting so far.
Not willing to risk it again, he headed for the door.
“I’ll be back,” he said to the room in general.
He’d had one woman escape this month because he’d let her call the shots. He’d be damned if he was going to lose another for the same reason. Before he got three feet out the door, his phone buzzed. Luke checked the text and grimaced. He had to report to Landin’s office immediately for a project update. And, if the last couple of weeks were any example, a long chat with marketing to coach them—again—on doing his old job.
Damn, this gig at Tri-Solutions was turning into a pain in the ass.
“You can’t keep hiding like a lovesick agoraphobic with wicked tech skills. What are you going to do?”
Gia shrugged off Caryn’s frantic question, focusing on typing up her notes instead of cringing at the sound of her favorite high heels rat-a-tat-tatting behind her.
Her friend was holding the heels hostage until Gia listened to her. She’d been spouting the same lecture for a week and a half now.
“What a mess. You’re totally screwed. You know that, right?”
No question about it, screwing had gotten her in this mess. Still, Gia wasn’t ready to admit defeat. Instead, she typed faster, as if her fingers flying over the keyboard could drown out the sound of stilettos hitting the linoleum.
“You have to do something. Get transferred. Quit the project. Call in sick. Something.”
Gia didn’t need to turn around to know the swift burst of air ruffling the back of her hair was caused by Caryn throwing her hands high in frustration.
“Gia!”
“I’m working.”
“You’re crazy.”
Gia’s fingers froze on the keyboard.
Her eyes closed tight, she sucked in a deep breath through clenched teeth. It didn’t help relieve her urge to scream.
She tried it again.
It took three more breaths before she could open her eyes and swivel her chair around to face her friend.
“I’m not crazy. I’m not quitting. And if I’m careful, I’m not in trouble.”
“Prove it. Why not? And how the hell do you think that’s possible?”
Gia blinked for a second, trying to sort out that response. Then she shrugged. “I don’t have to prove I’m not crazy. That goes without saying. And why would I quit? I’m so close to the next rung in the ladder I’d be crazy to leave now. As for how I think it’s possible, that’s what you call positive thinking.”
“Some people call it delusional.”
Some people were probably right. Gia grimaced. Then, fingers spread wide, she beseeched her friend to understand.
“I’ve worked hard for this promotion, Caryn. This is my shot. A chance to move up, to be more.” She wanted that so badly she could taste it. Wanted to be the one her mom bragged about, to be the friend with the great news to share. Since the idea of a great sex life was now off the table, she needed this, dammit. “This is so important to me. If I blow it, I’ll be back to writing boring code instead of designing wicked programs.”
“And if Luke Monroe finds out you’re lying to him, you’ll be looking for a new job.”
“Lying, how? If he asked me if I was the redhead who used his body as a stripper’s pole in Vegas two weeks ago, I’d tell him the truth. But he hasn’t asked. So I haven’t lied.”
Before she’d even uttered the last word, Gia was cringing. She didn’t need Caryn’s pitying headshake to know that was a pathetic excuse.
“I want this job.” She rubbed her forehead, where a nasty headache had taken up long-term residence. “That weekend was a fantasy. I really, really want it to stay in fantasyland. It doesn’t belong here, in reality.”
“And your feelings?” Caryn asked quietly.
Her feelings were pure misery, layered in unhappiness, sprinkled with intense longing.
Not prepared for how overwhelming those feelings were, Gia’s eyes filled before she could look away. She shook her head quickly and held up one hand to stop Caryn from saying anything.
A couple of deep breaths—if she kept this up, she was going to need plants in her office to recycle the oxygen—and she had control again.
“I miss the great sex,” she said, trying to sound upbeat.
“That weekend was more than sex, though.”
Through pained eyes, Gia inspected her friend’s face. There was no judgment there. Nor, for the first time since their margarita night, was there any hint of a pending lecture. A little of the tension drained from her spine and Gia gave a tiny shrug.
“It wasn’t supposed to be. I didn’t intend for it to be. And I don’t want it to be.”
“Sweetie, you’ve heard that saying about not always getting what we want, right?”
Gia rolled her eyes. Then, needing to hear the words to help her believe them, she offered a dismissive wave of her hand and gave Caryn a reassuring smile.
“Look, I’ll get over this. I’m sure it’s just fantasy overload or something. Like when you’re anticipating something for a really long time, you know? You build it up in your mind.” She thought of all the months she’d fantasized about Luke. All the times she’d sighed when she saw him in the hall. “Then you get the experience. And it’s even better than you’d imagined. It’s the kind of thing that wakes you in the middle of the night, your body trembling at just the memory of how great it felt.”
“Weren’t you supposed to be explaining how you’d get over this?” Caryn interrupted.
Oh, yeah. Gia bit her lip.
“I will get over it. What else can I do? I’d have to be an idiot to stay stuck on a guy like Luke.”
“Because?”
What was with the twenty questions? Gia wanted to say enough. But if she did, Caryn would be sure it was proof of, well, whatever it was she was trying to prove. So Gia ground her teeth into a stiff smile and kept on answering.
“Because he’s out of my league. Luke Monroe is special. The golden boy, you know. And now that he’s staying here” –damn him– “he’s off-limits. Toss in the fact that he’d justifiably think I lied to him if I ever came clean, and there you have it.”
When Caryn just stared, her brows arched in question, Gia sighed and finished with, “Like I said, I’d have to be an idiot to stay stuck on him.”
Which, given how she was feeling, meant she could get the word idiot tattooed on her ass any day now. A nice permanent reminder of her emotional stupidity.
“Maybe you’re right,” Caryn said slowly, finally sinking into a chair and sticking her feet out so she could admire Gia’s shoes. “I mean, that weekend was all about wild sex. Even the memory of it will fade soon.”
“Of course.” Then, frowning, Gia couldn’t stop herself from correcting, “It was fantastic sex, but there was more than just that. I mean, we talked. We shared. It was the weirdest thing. I could say anything, tell him any secret, and it felt, well, right.”
“That’s just the sex talking,” Caryn said dismissively. “I mean, what’s it like now? After you’ve spent so much time with him? Fully clothed time, I mean.”
Gia snickered.
“Now? Now I know that he’s just as sweet as he seemed naked. And he’s smart. Clever a
nd nice and motivating. He sees what works and finds a way to help the team see it, too.” She went on for another few minutes singing Luke’s praises, describing how he’d brought the team together and kept everyone motivated. Then she noticed the glum look on Caryn’s face and broke off. “What?”
“You really are in love with him.”
“I am not,” Gia exclaimed, sounding as insulted as if her friend had just accused her of buying her shoes at the dollar store.
But she couldn’t meet Caryn’s steady gaze for more than a few seconds. Blinking, Gia looked at her computer screen. She tried to read the code, with Luke’s encouraging comments, but her eyes burned too hot to see.
She barely noticed her friend’s movements until she slid the Giuseppe Zanotti peep toes onto the floor next to her feet. Gia looked up, blinking away tears as Caryn balanced on one foot, then the other to put on her own shoes.
“You’ll get over him,” Caryn assured her quietly. “But like anything, the first step is admitting you have a problem.”
“Why didn’t you get that psych degree again?” Gia asked, trying to sound upbeat instead of defeated.
“Too neurotic.” Caryn’s hand was warm as she rubbed it over Gia’s shoulder. “You need to make some decisions.”
“Like, leaving-my-job decisions?”
It’d been so much easier when Luke was the one leaving. She’d never have gone for him if she’d had any clue that he’d stick around.
“Not the job, but maybe the project.”
Gia sniffed, blinking again until the code on her monitor came into focus. She loved this project. She’d been rocking it, too.
Still, she could only play this hide-and-seek game for so long before it all blew up at her. Hanging on now was pure stubbornness. Thanks to Luke, she knew she wasn’t average. She had the best sexual adventure story ever, and because he kept pushing her, questioning her on this project, prodding her to go further than she’d thought she could, she now realized she was good.
Not average.
Damned good.
“I’ll go talk to Pete about a transfer,” she murmured.
There. She was safe. Her secret would stay tucked away in Vegas, where it belonged. She should have been relieved. And she would be, she promised herself. Just as soon as she got over the misery of knowing she had to stay away from Luke.
For good.
Caryn’s fingers tightened on her shoulder for a second before she moved away. Then, in that upbeat, overly cheerful tone people used when someone was dying or had gotten a really horrid haircut, she said, “At least now you can go back to wearing cute shoes.”
Gia forced a weak smile. She didn’t change into her peeptoes, though. Instead, with care and using the side of her foot, she slid the Giuseppe Zanottis to the side of her desk. She simply wasn’t ready for them yet.
She felt like pure crap. Misery wrapped around dejection soaked in hopelessness. And that was the kind of thing not even Giuseppe Zanottis could fix.
Luke stared at the whiteboard, the brightly colored writing a rainbow blur.
“Dude, you ready to go?”
“Head on without me,” he told Matt without looking toward the door. “I’m going to be here for a while.”
“Hitch in the project?”
Luke just shrugged. He wasn’t a sharing kind of guy. And this wasn’t something he wanted to talk about.
So he was glad when he finally heard his friend’s footsteps depart.
Luke looked at the board, noting the name of each team member and their progress. Gia was twice as far into her own assignment as anyone else.
She was also the only name on the board with a red line through it.
Transferred.
He ground his teeth together to keep from cussing.
The best player on his team.
Gone.
Figured.
Gia was a smart gal.
Smart enough to run circles around the geek twins and the rest of the team.
Smart enough to rewrite complex code in a way that made this project smooth enough to skate on.
And smart enough to seduce the hell out of him in Vegas, leave him panting for more, then hide her identity while working with him.
Luke’s fists clenched in his pockets, the blurry whiteboard taking on a red haze.
Oh, wait.
She was almost smart enough for that last one.
Unable to stand still for a second longer, he shoved away from the desk to storm from one end of the room to the other. The chat with Landin had gone long, so he’d had to postpone the project meeting. He’d got back to find a notice waiting. Gia had transferred off the team. Luke had actually laughed. She wouldn’t leave. They were kicking ass together. Sure it was some kind of error, he’d gone in search of her cubby. But she hadn’t been there. Her station had been shut down, and there hadn’t been a purse or jacket lying around.
What there had been, what he’d only noticed as he was halfway out the door, were shoes.
A very sexy, very red, very familiar pair of high heels.
He’d stared at those shoes for a solid minute before the implication of what he was seeing sank into his brain.
Sonofabitch.
Not only had she freaking ditched him. Again. But she’d straight up lied. Played him for a fool.
Gia, his dream tech, was actually Vanna. His dream woman. The realization had made his head spin, his body harden and his fury mount.
He should have pushed her into a face-to-face sooner. Should have made her play with the rest of the team.
Should have used the blindfold to tie her to that damned hotel bed so she couldn’t escape while he was passed out in a fog of sexual exhaustion.
So much frustration churned in his gut that Luke was ready to punch something. He pulled out his cell and tried calling Gia.
Again.
It went direct to voice mail.
Again.
“This is Luke Monroe. We need to talk. Call me,” he said into the phone. Again. This time being pissed won over good sense, causing him to threaten, “If you don’t call back today, I’ll come find you tomorrow. That’s a promise.”
He threw the phone on the desk with enough force to send it bouncing off his monitor, then ricocheting back at him.
“I’d heard those new iPhone cases were crazy durable. Nice way to test it.”
“I thought you left,” he said, giving Matt a dismissive look before sliding the phone into his pocket.
“And leave you all stressed out? What kind of friend does that?” Matt crossed the room, holding up two Starbucks cups as he came. “Can’t bring booze in, so I figured caffeine was the next best thing.”
Luke offered a half smile in thanks as he took the cup.
“So what’s the problem?”
“Nothing.”
“Women tell me I’m easy to talk to,” Matt said. “At least, I think that’s what they say. I don’t really listen.”
Luke gave a short laugh, knowing his friend expected it. But he still shook his head.
“I’m not six, this isn’t sharing circle, and we’re not girls. I don’t want to talk about it.”
Matt didn’t push. Instead, he scanned the project board, making impressed noises as he drank his coffee.
“Looks like you’re ahead of schedule. Guess you’re on your way to padding your rep as the golden boy.”
Setting his untouched coffee on a table, Luke crossed the room to glare at the board.
“This was a mistake.”
“What was?”
“Taking the lead job.”
“But you’re rocking the project.”
“No. I’m rocking at motivating my team. At pushing them. I’m a people person. Not a tech.” If nothing else, at least he’d figured that out this week. He hated this stuff. He missed interacting, selling, teaching.
“Is that what’s wrong? You’re bumming over the realization that you don’t like your new job? Now, that’s a serious waste
of energy. Just go get your old position back. Or call Kettlemens. They’d still grab you up.”
Luke shrugged. He didn’t want his old job, nor did he want the Kettlemens gig. He thought of Vanna’s—or was it Gia’s—scoffing comment that he had it all too easy. She was right. He wanted a challenge, but he wanted one he’d enjoy.
Like finding her, stripping her naked, tying her to a desk and forcing her to confess her every crime. He was pretty sure he could maintain his righteous anger before he gave in to the desperate need to lick his way up and down her body.
“I’ll figure it out,” he said dismissively. Then, figuring he’d explode if he didn’t spit it out, he said, “Job issues are a hell of a lot easier to handle than women.”
With a toast of his coffee cup, Matt laughed in agreement.
“Dude, I don’t care how easy you make it look figuring out women is one huge pain in the ass. Especially when they count.”
“When they count…”
Which was really the core of the issue.
Gia counted.
“Why do you think I play the field?” Matt asked, tossing his empty cup into the trash. “I keep it light and loose. Otherwise my head’d be all messed up. That’s what women do. Mess with our heads. Make us question every damned thing. Make us think about all that crazy stuff like fidelity and commitment and, you know, that ugly l word.”
That pulled a laugh out of Luke. Before he could respond, though, a couple of women passed the open door. Their voices were like loudspeakers, their tone the one some women used to share secret gossip they wanted everyone to hear.
He and Matt exchanged eye rolls.
“Did you hear?”
“About the girl in Marketing and the new VP of sales?”
“She thinks she’s going to get a promotion on her knees, I’ll bet.”
“Oh, yeah. Like that poor tech last year? The one who had an affair with her boss? Remember how fast she was fired. I think she still had her keyboard in hand when her butt hit the curb.”
“She should have known better. She claimed it was love. But I didn’t see him loving her enough to take the hit when they were busted.”
As the voices faded, so did part of Luke’s anger.
“And then there’s that,” Matt pointed out. “Women get ugly when other women are happy.”