A Friendly Engagement

by Christine Warner

  “And ‘not long ago’ was at least a month or two. Seems to me I remember her name from your calendar. Either way, you have to get over this obsession with work, work, work.”

  He lifted one arrogant brow. “It worked well for my father.”

  “Yeah, look where all that work got him.” Devi’s chest still ached whenever she thought about Leland Esterly dying of a massive heart attack at the age of fifty-seven. He’d barely had time to enjoy his retirement—if you could call working close to sixty plus hours a week as an accountant in a second career retirement. Either way, he’d been much too young.

  Omar frowned. “I wouldn’t be where I am today if I didn’t work hard. Plus, unlike my father, I eat right and make sure to exercise.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with hard work, as long as you know how to play hard, too. Come on, Omar. Take a break. Do up the town with me.” She cocked her head and gave him what she hoped were her best puppy-dog eyes. One thing she’d learned about Omar over the years, he treasured his employees’ happiness. And she’d use it against him for his own good.

  “How about a rain check?” He brushed his fingers through his hair.

  “I’ve heard that before. Five years, Omar. You can have one drink with me.” Devi softened her tone as she ticked off each year on her fingers. She’d play the guilt card to the hilt if need be.

  He shook his head. “I really need to find a way inside Bartow’s inner circle. I want that account. I don’t get why a business savvy, confirmed bachelor like Bartow requires the firm he hires to live by standards he doesn’t follow himself.”

  Devi’s stomach sank. Omar had everything required to help this man build his wealth—except a family. His family consisted of a mother who busied herself on a never-ending world travel tour, and two brothers. They all lived in different states and weren’t close. Not that any of that mattered because that wasn’t the type of family the businessman was after. “Maybe he likes the Norman Rockwellness of the picture in his mind. You know—wife, kids, and probably a white picket fence. Maybe he has regrets over things he never accomplished.”

  “If he’d just listen to the plan I have mapped out, he’d realize having a wife and family doesn’t mean squat when it comes to financial planning.” Omar sighed.

  “I’m sorry, O.”

  “All that loving family mumbo-jumbo talk might be good for some people, but life is about success and moving forward. A family holds you back. Takes up your time. Hell, my father taught me that in grade school.” Omar’s voice grew hard with conviction.

  “Ouch. That’s damn harsh.” Sometimes she felt sorry for the childhood Omar didn’t get. His mother had been globetrotting the world—usually with his two younger brothers in tow—and his father had made sure his oldest son followed a rigid path to be top dog. All his life Omar tried to please his father, prove his drive and focus were worth the many sacrifices he’d made. His old man had been proud, but none of that had won either of them any kudos from the other Esterly children. And above all else, Omar had a warped sense of commitment—at least commitment outside a business circle. His dating habits confirmed that.

  Look who’s talking? After hearing about all her mother had gone through, commitment wasn’t high on Devi’s list, either. Long ago she’d decided to live life on her terms, her choices, because you never knew when the gift would be taken. She needed to depend only on herself for her own happiness. Why put that burden on someone else who probably didn’t have the same vision?

  Omar jammed his fists into his trouser pockets. “If I could get my foot in the door.”

  Devi frowned, pulled a snack bag of chips from her purse—her other indulgence into processed foods besides her weekly dog—tore open the package, and popped one rippled chip into her mouth. What she wouldn’t give for some dill dip.

  “You already said it’s impossible,” she said around a crunchy chip.

  “I’m probably overthinking this.”

  She sighed. He thought too hard about too many things. Devi only thought too hard about finding her father. The man who’d left her unwed mother the moment she’d announced her pregnancy. At least that was the scoop according to Devi’s grandmother, the strong-willed woman who’d raised her since birth.

  The barely eaten bag of chips suddenly didn’t seem as appealing. She wadded the package into a crunchy ball and dumped it into a nearby trash can.

  Time to shake off her woes. If she wanted to dwell on her past she could do that alone in her apartment with a tub of homemade, organic ice cream—salted caramel.

  Right now Omar needed saving. From himself.

  Chapter Two

  Devi shoved her hand through the crook of Omar’s arm and bumped him with her hip to get him moving. “Let’s have a drink. Just one. Maybe between us we can come up with a solution.” Or at least you’ll forget your troubles for a few.

  If he refused again she didn’t know what to try next.

  Omar double-bumped her hip back, and she almost lost her footing.

  “Oooh, O has a playful streak.” She hugged her middle and rocked on her heels. He’d just supplied the proof needed in knowing her efforts in reforming him from twenty-four seven workaholic to nine-to-five workaholic weren’t wasted.

  She smiled up at him, but his face had already settled back into his usual expression. Serious.

  “My mind isn’t on being social.” His monotone voice cut through her like a dull ax.

  How could such a good-looking man be such a stick in the mud? If Bradley Cooper had a twin, Omar would be it. Albeit, the olive-skinned version, thanks to his mom’s Italian heritage. His light brown hair, with hints of blond, teased the waves adorning his head and he always appeared as if he’d either just stumbled from bed or had run his fingers through it. Whatever he did or didn’t do, his hair looked perfect. And his eyes.

  Oh, his eyes.

  Yes, he was her boss, but who wouldn’t notice those mesmerizing eyes? Eyes so blue they were almost pastel. When she’d first started working with him she’d not only caught her breath every time they made eye contact, but her heart snagged a bit. She’d gotten over her adoration soon enough upon learning he only had eyes for work.

  As it turned out, his dedication had served them both well. She’d learned a lot, and he’d not only proven himself a wonderful boss but an even better friend. And that’s why she wanted him to get a life. Friends shouldn’t let friends live a boring existence. No matter how much they resisted. Everyone—even Omar—needed an escape.

  “Although our walk has done wonders for my mood, and your singing is quite awe-inspiring, I need to head back to the office. I don’t care if it takes me all night, I’m going to find a way to get invited to Bartow’s. Once I’m in, he’ll see I’m the right man for the job.” His jaw tightened as he stared off into space.

  “I’m sure you are, but you said yourself he’s all about family first. If you aren’t in the family way he’s not interested. Give it up, O. I wish I could give you an easy fix, but sometimes the lesson to be learned is you can’t win ’em all. Time to drown that frown in a frothy mug of brew.” She nudged him playfully in the arm with her shoulder.

  Her stomach knotted when he didn’t even crack a smile. If only she could provide the answer to his dilemma. She hated seeing him defeated and disappointed. If anyone deserved to get what they wanted, Omar topped the list. She glanced at the signs littering the sidewalk outside one of the more popular hotels on the boardwalk.

  What do you have to lose?

  She yanked Omar by the arm, pulled him inside the large hotel’s turnaround, and pushed him ahead until they exited in the brightly lit silver and white lobby with pops of red. “How about we find your answer with a fortune teller? According to the signs outside there’s a convention, and they’re holding readings in the Ocean View conference room.”

  Omar’s body stiffened. “Not a chance. I don’t believe in that crap.”

  “Give it a try.” She invited him with a playf
ul crook of her finger and a smile, but he stood his ground.

  “Hey, Devi.”

  Devi jerked toward the voice calling her name. She spun around as a group of her friends spilled out of the hotel’s bar. Some arm in arm, one piggyback on another, and the rest trailing behind in deep conversation. Cass, the tiniest of the bunch who always dressed the part of a ’50s pinup girl, sauntered over to give Devi a quick hug.

  “Girl, I haven’t seen you in weeks.” Cass eyed Omar. A blush crept up her neck, and she threw Devi a wicked grin. “He must be the reason why, eh? You got a new stallion in the stable.”

  Devi laughed. “Only when he makes me work overtime. Cass, this is my boss, Omar. Omar, Cass.”

  “Nice to meet you, sexy.” Cass shook Omar’s hand, dragging her fingers across his palm. She’d never been able to control her flirtatious side. Good thing her boyfriend took it all in stride.

  “Nice to meet you, too, Cass.” Omar pasted on his reserved smile.

  Even though she could see the discomfort in the straight line of Omar’s shoulders, Devi had no plans to rescue him. Omar wasn’t used to someone as direct as Cass. Well, unless you counted Devi herself.

  Cass scanned him from head to toe, then turned her attention back to Devi with a wink. “Are you here to enjoy the nightlife or to get a reading? Even though it’s early, I don’t recommend the bar. A total yawn.”

  “No plans for the bar. But I’m all about the reading.” Devi shot Omar what she hoped was a do-it-or-die look.

  “I had mine read. Everything she said was right on the money.” Cass flung a section of her near waist-length purple and red striped hair over her shoulder.

  “See, O.” Devi cocked her head to the side and threw her hands on her hips.

  “Anyway, how about you join us at Remy’s on the pier?” Cass laughed and waved away the comments from the others who were coaxing her to hurry up.

  “Is your band playing there tonight?” Devi loved Cass’s music. A little bit of soulful blues and a few soft rock tunes thrown in for good measure.

  Cass shook her head. “Not tonight, but Trev’s band is headlining. Which is why I want to get down there. I plan to dance while the love of my life owns the stage.”

  Although Cass and Devi were a lot alike, their similarity ended when it came to relationships. Devi didn’t believe love happened for everyone, but Cass and Trev had found something real and were cupid advocates. Over five years running and they still shared soulful glances and tender touches. Although anything on paper had been deemed off-limits, their commitment was heartfelt.

  “What do you think? Want to join us?” Cass backed away slowly, waiting for Devi’s answer, but at the same time letting her know that the natives waiting were getting restless as they called out a second time for Cass to hurry.

  “Sounds great. I would love to get my dance on.”

  “The best part is Trev said that margaritas are half price ’til ten.” Cass tipped back her imaginary glass and licked her lips.

  “Even better.” Devi’s taste buds went on alert as she anticipated an ice-cold fruit drink.

  “I’ll see you when you get there, then. Oh, and bring your boss.” Cass scrutinized Omar from north to south and then back up again. “He’ll definitely add amazing to the atmosphere.”

  Devi’s eyes widened as she glanced up at Omar. “You guys would eat him alive.”

  “And I bet he’d taste delicious.” Cass winked and gave them her back as she strutted across the lobby to rejoin her friends. The group of boisterous women piled into one stall of the turnaround. Before they filed out into the street they turned and blew a group kiss at Omar.

  Omar blew them a kiss back, and Devi caught her breath in surprise. She laughed as her friends’ shouts and excited catcalls met her ears. “You might regret encouraging them.”

  “I don’t believe in regret.” He crossed his arms and turned his focus toward her. “And you know Cass how?”

  “Before I landed my dream job with you, we waitressed together at the Tarantula.”

  He frowned. “The Tarantula?”

  “You wouldn’t know it. Not your type of hangout.” She flicked her wrist. “Anyway, they closed a few years back.”

  “Well, she’s definitely not shy.”

  “Can you imagine any of my friends being shy?”

  He acknowledged her question with a lift of his chin and a lopsided smile.

  “So, how about reconsidering? You’ve just gotten a taste of what to expect. Fun.”

  What did he think of her friends? Had they scared him off, or did he like their playfulness? What if he found them immature and annoying? She opened her mouth to ask, but he beat her to the punch.

  “Why don’t you catch up with them? I’m going back to the office.” He made a move toward the exit.

  Devi’s stomach clenched, and she grabbed him by the arm. “Nope. You’re going to talk to one of these psychics first.”

  “You don’t really believe in psychics, do you?” He waved his words away. “Never mind, forget I said that. Of course you believe.”

  Devi shrugged. She might not believe whole-heartedly, but who knew for sure? “Why not? The earth is a mysterious place with mysterious and interesting people. What makes you think some of them can’t see the future?”

  “Not happening.” He positioned his hands on her shoulders and propelled her toward the exit.

  She turned, and he had no choice but to stop in his tracks. “No. You come on. What have you got to lose?”

  “My rep.”

  “I doubt that.”

  “I don’t want to risk it.” Omar guided Devi toward the exit with firm pressure on her back. Once they stepped outside, he turned in the direction leading to their office building and moved down the sidewalk with purposeful strides.

  Devi skip-ran to catch up and fell into step beside him. “You could really be missing the ticket here. Maybe it’s not me who’s supposed to show you a whole new world but one of the mediums hidden inside the Ocean View conference room.”

  “I like to follow my own path, not one laid out by some psychic.”

  “But what if she told you all you needed to do was forget about work for a minute, find a life, maybe meet a special woman, fall in love, get engaged, and you’d have an in for Bartow’s meet and greet?” Devi’s words came out rushed. She raised her brow in a challenge, biting her lip at the same time to hold back her laugh as her teasing took effect. Like anyone could accomplish that list within a week.

  Omar’s lip twitched as he held back a glimmer of a smile. One brow raised in a perfect arch. “I’d say she was a hell of a lot more than psychic.”

  “Or maybe she’d tell you that if you joined me and my friends for a night out, you’d meet that lucky lady. Or at least have some fun.” This time Devi couldn’t stop the chuckle that escaped. What was it about teasing Omar that she enjoyed so much? Definitely had to be the shock value that she gleaned on occasion. Or the way he’d loosen up for a few minutes with a genuine smile or laugh.

  “By the way you’re acting, I’d say you already had a few drinks in you.” Tiny laugh lines around Omar’s eyes betrayed his humor.

  Devi might as well go for broke. She straightened her shoulders and tugged at his arm so he’d slow down. A fluttery sensation filled her chest. “I guess we’ll never know how the medium could’ve affected your future, will we? She might have given you a love potion, or something else otherworldly to make it happen. If nothing else, we’d have had a good time. Maybe even a laugh or two. And who knows, maybe if you loosened up enough a few answers about securing Bartow might come your way.”

  Omar came to an abrupt halt and she stumbled into him. The look on his face—bright-eyed with a hint of mischief—eased some of the tension from her back.

  “You changed your mind? You’re going to talk to the medium?” She clapped her hands, bouncing on the balls of her feet. This might not be a night of dancing and sipping on an umbrella drink, but chatt
ing up a psychic would be fun. And maybe if he had a little fun, he’d change his mind and join her and her friends.

  Omar looked down at her with an odd twinkle in his eyes, almost as if he’d forgotten she stood beside him.

  “No, but you’ve given me a great idea, Devi Boss. One that’s been staring me in the face all day, and nagging my ass down the sidewalk all evening.”

  She ignored the second half of his comment and grinned. He looked downright self-assured. More so than he had since they’d begun this conversation. “I did?” she squeaked, swallowing a ball of trepidation.

  “You did. You’re game for anything, right?”

  She compressed her lips and studied Omar through a narrow gaze, taking in the way his overly bright eyes concentrated on her face as if memorizing every pore. Her gaze traveled south to the non-existent rise and fall of his chest and how he pushed his suit jacket aside as he placed his hands low on his hips. He’d stopped breathing while he waited for her reply. That made her more nervous than anything.

  “Normally I am game for anything, but considering the man asking the question, I’m a little nervous.” She licked her lips.

  Omar shook his head, swallowing her hands in the warmth of his. “No. This is a great idea. I can’t believe I didn’t see it before.”

  “I’ll hold back on saying I’m glad I could help until I know what you’ve got pinging around your brain.” She tried to pull free of his grip, but he only grasped her fingers tighter.

  Her inner voice told her whatever plan he’d cooked up included her and she wouldn’t be thrilled with the role.

  “Bartow wants a family-first firm. He wants a planner who is married, blah, blah blah.” He dismissed his unfinished words with the thrust of his chin.

  Devi nodded, her mouth going dry. Was he planning to hire a wife, or about to propose?

  “I might not be married, but what if I were engaged?”

  She didn’t want to jump to conclusions about the proposal so she pasted on a tight smile. “Do you have a serious girlfriend hidden away I don’t know about?”

  The thought unsettled her, but she pushed aside the heaviness in her gut. Omar and relationships mixed like fire and ice. Not that women didn’t find him attractive and vice versa, but his true love would always be work. Most sane women wanted something more than a workaholic commitment-phobe.