Dream Guy

by Dream Guy (lit)

  Annie was astounded.

  She immediately sent a guilty look across the table at Collin. She’d only been with the company a little over a year. Collin had ten years under his belt, just like Matt.

  “Don’t worry about Collin,” Matt threw in, reading her mind. “Collin isn’t going to be available to take over the creative department. He’ll be going with me to the front office with an impressive executive assistant title.”

  Annie looked at Collin.

  Collin looked back.

  She was sure they were both thinking the same thing. All three of their salaries would basically double, without even figuring in the perks. Joe Video’s success would be a win-win situation for all three of them.

  She needed to move.

  She needed a few minutes to take it all in.

  Pushing back from the table, Annie rose to her feet and started pacing around the sunporch. She knew Matt and Collin were both waiting patiently for her response. Matt maybe not as patiently as Collin, since Annie knew Collin could care less about the money. An impressive title he could flaunt in front of his wealthy A-Gay Club members would be his reward.

  Pace. Pace. Pace.

  Think. Think. Think.

  She should have been savoring this tiny bit of power she had while their futures hung in the balance, pending her decision. And maybe she would have savored the moment if she really had a decision to make. Essentially, it was a no-brainer. Being unemployed in an already sluggish economy certainly wasn’t something she could risk. Nor would she ever be able to live with herself if she walked out and purposely tried to ruin Matt and Collin’s chances for a big promotion.

  Sales are sales are sales.

  She had to get that through her thick skull.

  As long as she had the opportunity to promote a serious version of Joe Video, why should she really care what idiocy Matt came up with?

  Annie stopped pacing.

  She walked back to where Matt was sitting, planted both hands palms down on the wicker table, and leaned forward so close he scooted back in his chair to get her out of his space.

  “I know you’re the department head, Matt, but I want full control in the development of Joe Video. Script. Choosing the actor. Everything. Right down to the wording on the packaging cover.”

  “You’ve got it,” Matt said without hesitation.

  “And if J.B. does insist that we go through with the he-said, she-said act, I intend to match you word for word. Gloves off. No holding back.”

  “Ditto,” Matt said with a challenging grin. “Anything else?”

  Annie stood up. “Yeah. I guess a situation like this one is where that line ‘all’s fair in love and war’ comes from.”

  “And which would this be, kiddies?” Collin spoke up. “Love? Or war?”

  Annie and Matt both sent their host a kiss-off look.

  Collin closed his laptop and looked down at his watch. “Okay, children. It’s nine p.m. You can stay here all night and keep working on the development schedule. But I have a nightlife reputation to uphold.”

  He looked over at Annie, who was curled up on the opposite end of his new chofa, and grinned. “Remember that pilot I told you about? The one I know has a crush on me, but is playing hard-to-get? Swedish. Tall, blond, and—”

  “Whoa!” Matt protested. “Way more information than I want to know.”

  He wasn’t homophobic, but a guy had to draw the line somewhere. Besides, he knew Collin often amused himself seeing just how close to that line Matt could be pushed.

  After he and Annie had settled their differences, the three of them had been working nonstop, laying down a game development schedule. They still had a few kinks to work out, but Collin was right. It was time to call it a day.

  Still lying on his back on the floor of Collin’s den, Matt sat up and stretched. He glanced in Annie’s direction, still amazed she was being so agreeable about everything.

  She was sitting on one end of Collin’s newly purchased “chofa”—a cross between a chair and a sofa, made popular by the Queer Eye boys who had become Collin’s new to-live-by idols. At the moment, she had an overstuffed pillow hugged to her chest, spoiling his view of her bare midriff. But it wasn’t until she unwound her long legs from beneath her and stood up that he noticed the new addition to her right foot that Collin had mentioned when he first phoned Matt earlier that morning.

  “Nice toetoo,” Matt said with an overstated smirk.

  Her cheeks flushed. “Thanks.”

  Thanks? Was that the only rise he could get out of her? Matt wasn’t sure what was going on, but knew he didn’t like it. From the moment he’d arrived, Annie had been way too agreeable. And definitely too calm. Even about the television program.

  It was downright scary.

  Call him crazy, but he liked her much better in combat mode. At least he was safe when they were at odds with each other. It kept him from seeing Annie as anything other than the giant pain in his ass that she usually was.

  “You need to drop me off at Paragon to pick up my car,” she told Collin, stepping around Matt and ignoring him completely as she headed out of the room.

  “I’ll drop you off,” Matt called out. “It’s on my way.”

  He’d offered only because he knew Annie would refuse. There was no way she’d agree to being alone with him. One-on-one? With the chance he might bring up the night they’d spent together? She wouldn’t let that happen. He’d bet his promotion on it.

  He smiled inwardly when she turned back around to look at him.

  Until she said, “Great. Give me a few minutes to get my things.”

  Here she was. Sitting in the front seat of his Jeep Cherokee. An arms-length away from Haz-Matt. Making a painfully silent trip to get her car.

  Her only consolation was that at least it was dark. Which meant Annie really couldn’t ogle him. She’d had a few weak moments after brunch when they’d headed to Collin’s den to work out the details of their game development schedule.

  Matt had stretched out on the floor, arms above his head as he kept playing catch with a chewed-up ball, probably just to annoy Elton John, who growled every time Matt tossed his toy into the air. To say she hadn’t noticed that his Muscles “R” Matt polo shirt kept riding up to expose his hard, bronzed stomach would have been a lie. Just as it would have been a lie to say her eyes hadn’t repeatedly followed the trickle of black hair that disappeared into the waistband of his tight-fitting jeans.

  Damn.

  Who was she kidding?

  Matt was make-you-drool sexy.

  And make-you-a-fool dangerous, Annie reminded herself.

  Just like now. Talk about feeling foolish. They were two grown adults on the verge of getting big promotions that would change their lives and further their careers. Yet they were both acting like children, too stubborn to talk about the one underlying subject that could keep them from reaching the very goal they’d both agreed to pursue.

  Annie was tempted to make Matt pull over and stop the car. Then she would grab him by the shoulders, shake the living crap out of him, and scream, “Matt! We had one night of mind-blowing sex. Stop pretending we didn’t. We both need to get past it.”

  She was actually looking for a likely place to pull over and talk when Matt broke the silence.

  “I think this is a good time to talk about—”

  “Thank God,” Annie said before he finished his sentence.

  His head jerked in her direction. “I beg your pardon?”

  Annie panicked for a second. “Please tell me you didn’t mean something work-related.”

  His eyes returned to the busy street ahead of him. “No. I meant . . . the night we spent together.”

  Finally. The subject was out in the open. No more pretending. No going back. They were finally going to have the conversation they’d been avoiding for over a year.

  “I’m glad you brought it up,” Annie said. “We need to stop pretending that night never happened. We need to t
alk it out and get past it. That’s the only way we’ll ever be able to survive working on Joe Video together.”

  “Get past it?” he echoed, glancing at her. “I assumed you were past it when you left without saying good-bye the next morning.”

  Was he for real? He knew damn well they’d been playing the you-don’t-exist-for-me game for over a year now. Unlike when she’d first joined the team. Then, they’d acted like all men and women act when they’re attracted to each other. They’d tossed the witty come-on comments back and forth. They’d made eye contact at every opportunity with those hidden-agenda, I-want-you-like-crazy gazes. Not to mention the shameless preening that would have put two proud peacocks to strut-your-stuff shame.

  Well, forget that. She wasn’t going to let Matt get away with pretending he hadn’t been purposely ignoring her just as much as she’d been purposely ignoring him.

  “I left without saying good-bye,” Annie informed him, “to save you the trouble of giving me the boss-shouldn’t-date-employees speech. Whether you’ll admit it or not, I know you were relieved that I did leave while you were still asleep.”

  He glanced sideways again. “That’s what you really expected from me? A dating protocol speech?”

  “Oh, puh-leeze,” Annie said. “Miss Delusional As Usual has never been that delusional. A boss having a personal relationship with one of his employees is never a good idea. We had one night of scrape-you-off-the-ceiling sex. Let’s leave it at that and move on.”

  There was a hint of surprise in his voice when he said, “Scrape-you-off-the-ceiling sex? Really? That’s how you’d rate it?”

  Annie groaned. “What a typical male response. Forget trying to have a mature conversation here. Let’s focus on the performance factor instead.”

  “Yeah, let’s do.” He glanced in her direction with a devilish grin this time. “Just curious. But what would scrape-you-off-the-ceiling sex rate on a scale of one to ten? Definitely more than a six, I’d imagine. More than a measly eight. Not exactly a—”

  “Not important,” Annie insisted. “I was only trying to make a point. We were attracted to each other when we first met and we acted on it. But as great as the sex was, we both had enough sense to know it could never work between us. I’m not interested in an occasional booty call. And you’re not a relationship type of guy.” For good measure Annie threw in, “End of story,” it being Matt’s all-time favorite expression.

  He let out a long sigh.

  “What?” Annie demanded. “Please don’t insult my intelligence by trying to pretend that everything I just said isn’t one hundred percent truth.”

  “No, everything you just said is true,” he admitted. “And that’s what really irks me. Why can’t two consenting adults go out, have a great time together, and even enjoy great sex without automatically landing on the relationship doorstep?”

  Annie turned sideways in her seat to face him. “I’m not sure I understand the question. Isn’t that exactly what we did?”

  He thought it over for a second. “Well, yeah. But. Say we’d decided to see each other again. That’s the rub. That’s where things would have gotten complicated with all that relationship bullcrap women like to beat a guy over the head with.”

  Annie clenched her teeth together. Should I start sharpening the ax? Lizzie Borden whispered in her ear.

  “Well, I’m sorry, Matt, but yes, if we’d continued seeing each other, even for a good time and great sex, we’d still be in a relationship. A casual relationship, at best. But a relationship just the same. And that goes back to my original statement. I want more than a casual relationship. You don’t.”

  When he didn’t answer, Annie said, “You can make fun of me forever, but I seriously want a real-life Joe Video. I want to be cherished and adored. Twenty-four-seven—three-sixty-five—until death do us part.”

  He had the nerve to laugh. “You’re kidding yourself, Annie. You’d be bored to death if some guy adored you twenty-four-seven. No conflict? No sparks? No challenge? Sounds like a pretty dull existence to me.”

  “You’re wrong,” Annie told him, relieved they were finally pulling into the Bank of America Plaza parking garage. “I’ll take being bored and adored any day of the week. I’ve had enough conflict in the relationship department to last me a lifetime. The next time around, I’m going for Olympic relationship gold. Nothing less.”

  Matt swiped his employee card and drove through the parking gate when the arm lifted. Obviously sensing she was thinking about her most recent “Dumpee of the Year” bronze medal, he said, “Dave’s a jerk, Annie. At least you weren’t in love with him.”

  Annie looked in his direction. “How do you know?”

  Matt pulled up beside her VW and switched off the engine. He turned to face her. “Well? Were you? In love with Dave?”

  Annie sighed. “No. But I thought there might be a possibility we could eventually head down the road to love. I guess that’s why the sudden detour took me by such surprise.”

  Matt actually sent her a sympathetic look. “Look on the bright side. Dave’s detour gave you the brainstorm for Joe Video. You have nowhere to go but up. Career-wise, anyway.”

  They kept staring at each other, the lights from the parking garage allowing Annie to see the sincere expression on his face. The fact that he was actually trying to comfort her made Annie realize how little she really knew about Matt. Other than what Collin had told her, that is.

  She found herself asking, “And what about you, Matt? Aside from your career? Don’t you ever see yourself married someday? Kids? A house in the suburbs?”

  He grinned. “I won’t say never. But I have three older brothers. All of them are married with children. Not one of them fails to tell me on a regular basis that I need to hold on to my single life as long as possible.”

  Annie smiled back. “Collin has a theory, you know, about what he calls your relationship procrastination.”

  “Collin has a theory about everything,” Matt said. “But I’m game. Let’s hear it.”

  “You’re holding out because you’ve already had the all-American family. The football coach dad, proud of his four strapping all-male sons. The Betty Crocker mom, who doted on all of you completely. You grew up in a secure and loving environment. That’s why you don’t feel the pressure to hurry and find someone to share your life. You have no reason to believe you won’t have that same all-American dream when you do decide to settle down.”

  His look was thoughtful. “As opposed to you and Collin, you mean? Who didn’t grow up in an all-American family?”

  Annie nodded. “You have to admit it makes sense. Collin’s father died when he was five, and he grew up being cared for by a string of nannies while his mother jet-setted here and there. Knowing Collin as we both do, I’m sure he’s already told you about my incredibly dysfunctional family tree.”

  His rather embarrassed expression told Annie her assumption was correct.

  He was tactful enough to say, “I know your mother is a prominent civil liberties attorney here in Atlanta. And that she’s a bit of a feminist.”

  Annie laughed. “That’s a nice way of putting it, Matt. But praying to a Gloria Steinem icon on a daily basis makes my mother more than just a bit of a feminist.”

  If he knew about her mother, that meant Collin couldn’t have kept himself from telling Matt about her father. About the man who had been much older than her twenty-two-year-old campus activist mother. An esteemed professor of philosophy at Cornell University. Sixty-four years old, to be exact. Who’d had a massive heart attack at a nuclear energy protest and left the starry-eyed-in-love-with-her-professor Beverly Sue Long both unmarried and pregnant with a daughter who had been nothing but a big disappointment to her. Mainly, Annie knew, because Annie refused to live by her mother and Gloria Steinem’s famous motto: A woman needs a man like a fish needs a bicycle.

  When Matt squirmed slightly in his seat, Annie suspected he feared she would bring up the uncomfortable subject of t
he man who’d unintentionally but ultimately made her a bastard. She decided to let him off the hook.

  “Let’s go back to the original subject about the differences between you and me when it comes to relationships,” Annie said. “You’re anti-relationship for now, so you think my quest to be cherished and adored is dull and boring. I’m pro-relationship, so I think your single-guy life sounds dreadfully sad and extremely lonely.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong,” Matt said and winked. “I’m seldom ever lonely. If you get my drift.”

  There. That was the Matt she knew. The cocky, self-

  assured I-love-being-a-player Matt. It was safer, Annie decided, if she didn’t try to scratch beneath the surface, didn’t try to uncover another side of Matt. Let him be satisfied with a lifetime of one-night stands. What did she care? Her first new order of business in the relationship department was going to be installing a frog-proof filter for her dating pool. And a guy like Matt would be bounced out of the pond before he could charm her with his first throaty suck-you-in ribbet.

  “Well,” Annie said, hoping he would take the hint.

  He did. “Yeah,” he said, looking down at his watch. “It’s getting late. We’d both better get going.”

  Implying what? That he had some hot overnight date? Well, to hell with him. She couldn’t care less.

  He was out of the Jeep and opening her passenger-side door before Annie had time to prepare herself for his hand on her arm as he helped her step down from the Jeep. When he released her, he closed the door. Though she truly wished he hadn’t, he started walking with her across the short space to her VW bug.

  He propped up against her convertible, his elbow resting on the ragtop roof, and the cocky grin on his face reminding Annie why she should be thankful they’d both agreed they had no future together.

  “Think a new car might be in your future when you get your promotion?” he teased. “Department head image? All that.”