“My nerves got the best of me, but Devi put me in line and reminded me that every woman wants a romantic proposal.” Omar made quick work of righting his wrong. “So I got down on one knee—”
“And pulled off one of the most romantic proposals ever. I get goose bumps just thinking how he worded his feelings, talked about us and a future.”
“Then I swept her off her feet—”
“With the most romantic and heart-stopping kiss ever,” Devi finished, giving him a wink and flashing her ring again to the oohs of the crowd around them.
Devi’s skin glowed as she continued to weave the tale of their romance. If he didn’t know better, he’d think she really was the happiest girl in the room because she’d become engaged. Hell, he almost believed they’d actually become engaged, for all the normal reasons.
She linked her arm through his and laughed. “There were so many times we thought everyone knew.”
“Over the years we’ve all wondered a few times, but figured if you were an item you’d come out with it when you were ready. And from the size of that ring, you’re ready,” Bev said.
“We wanted to be sure before we said anything,” Devi indulged the group.
Finally, she sighed, caught his gaze, and winked. “Omar really shook my boots when he asked me to marry him—”
“More like I begged you.” Omar chuckled as he played along. He could get used to being so relaxed with his staff. And nobody stared at him yet like he’d grown horns, so that had to be a good sign they accepted his humor. “Believe me, I had to work to convince her.”
“Oh, I doubt that.” Nancy’s smile hadn’t budged since their announcement.
“What really convinced me was when he took me in his arms. On a public sidewalk, no less.” She lowered her voice, and the crowd around them leaned in. “It was almost like we were the only two people in the world. I’d never believed in that sappy saying about weak knees, but I’m a believer now. Wrapped in his arms, I felt like we were the only two people on the planet. I couldn’t do anything but say yes.”
“Oh! How romantic,” Nancy gushed. She clasped her hands to her chest and swayed back and forth. Her penetrating gaze rested on Omar and she gave him the biggest smile.
Women were funny creatures. Nancy had always been a hardcore romantic. She devoured books covered with men’s bare chests as if they were cookies and she didn’t have to worry about her waistline—which she didn’t. But he’d never guessed he’d be the target of her admiration.
“I love that story. Nancy is right. So romantic. Congratulations again, you two. You’ve always had the perfect working relationship. It seems only natural that it would spill over into your private life, too.” Bev’s red face clashed with her hair as she glanced at Omar.
He’d never heard her utter more than a handful of words at a time. At least in his presence. Today she’d opened up. He liked getting to know his staff, and letting them know him.
“Could it be that Bev has a romantic bone in her body after all?” Nancy teased.
Several others nearby nodded in agreement and threw in their own congratulatory remarks.
“So, when’s the big day?” Vanessa asked.
“We haven’t gotten that far yet.” Devi pulled Omar closer until they were butted up side to side. “When we have a date, we’ll let you know.”
A ripple of heat shot through him, and the awareness only intensified when Devi ran her hand up and down his sleeve. She gazed up at him with her blue-gray eyes, and he lost brain function. How come he’d never noticed that tiny mole at the edge of her bottom lip? Or how her nose crinkled ever so slightly when she smiled?
The moment she moved away to grab a bottle of sparkling cider he missed her warmth.
“Nancy, would you like another cup?” Devi opened the cider and topped off Nancy’s glass when the older woman nodded.
Leave it to Devi to remember that Nancy didn’t drink alcohol. Not since her husband regained his sobriety more than a decade ago.
“Thank you. And congrats again, but I think it’s time I indulged in a few of those chocolate-covered strawberries.” Nancy strolled off toward the snack table and a couple others followed suit, leaving him and Devi alone.
“I got those for you, O. You better grab a plate before they’re gone,” Devi said.
“I actually snuck a couple when we got back from lunch.”
“I thought the tray looked a little lighter when I set it out. Anyway, I’m going to mingle and remind everyone to fill a plate. As usual, I think I over-ordered.” She topped off her cup with some of the sparkling cider and headed toward the group in the corner.
Within minutes everyone had snacks and the pulse of several conversations filled the room. Omar enjoyed his moment of solitude and leaned against the reception counter. He took a mouthful of his drink. Devi circled the room, making conversation, laughing, and listening to a few marriage jokes. As she mingled, she picked up after everyone and emptied items into various recycle bins stacked neatly behind the reception area. Through his smile, he took another drink, draining the last of the champagne from his glass. If not for her effort, his office would never have gone green. She had a recycle bin for everything, including batteries, plastic, and paper. Of course, if she had her way they’d be paperless, too.
Warmth filled his chest. Devi had a wonderful knack of making people relax. She treated everyone the same, including him. With her he wasn’t the boss or the influential owner of Esterly Financial—to Devi, he was just a man. Her friend.
He liked the normalcy. Hell, he liked the normalcy of the entire day. Of fitting in, people joking and talking around him without fear of saying something wrong in front of the boss.
He had sensed change on the horizon. Maybe the change included more than a contract but the way he interacted with his staff. Or the tightened bond between him and Devi.
She smiled across the room at him. If you could bottle happiness, she’d be the secret ingredient. Her bright smile filled her face and stopped his pulse. Hard to believe a few hours ago she’d been in tears. Her story about her mother had gripped his heart and squeezed. Ever since their talk, he hadn’t been able to get her out of his mind.
Hell, be honest. She’d been on his mind since last Friday night.
He’d tried to pound down the feelings, but he couldn’t. Over the last few days they’d each peeled away another layer of themselves and grown even closer.
He’d never felt more protective and helpless at the same time. To the point your body clenches at the idea of her crying? Or you want to punch out her so-called father if he dares break her heart?
Devi stopped to chat with Doug. Omar couldn’t take his eyes from her. The line of her neck as she gave him her profile, the way she tossed back her head when she laughed, the sparkle in her eyes when she leaned in close to hear what someone was saying, as if they were the only person to matter.
And the way her tongue would slip out to wet her lips…
He didn’t like this new train of thought.
Hadn’t he already decided Devi was off-limits?
Chapter Six
Devi slung the strap of her oversized duffel bag over her left shoulder, huffed out a breath, and punched Omar’s number into her phone.
He picked up before the second ring. “Omar.”
From the beginning, the way he answered the phone made her smile. Instead of the normal greeting he used one of two words, either “yes” or his name. Both said with an arrogant air of authority.
“Okay, I know part of my job is to keep you on task so that you don’t get caught up in a new project and run late, so think of this as your courtesy call. I’ve been standing on the sidewalk in front of my condo for fifteen minutes. It’s hot out here.” She swiped at her forehead with the back of her hand.
His throaty chuckle reverberated through her earpiece and she shivered. He sounded naughty and oh so nice at the same time. How was that possible? And why was she picturing him in the raw
?
“Quit your whining. It’s your fault I’m late.”
“And how’s that?”
“I have a surprise for you.”
“Me?” Devi could think of several surprises she’d like from Omar about now. An image of him wearing nothing but a smile flitted across her eyes when she blinked. Her newfound awareness of him invaded her thoughts and pushed her sanity over the edge. She had to stop thinking of him in any other way but her friend. And friends didn’t daydream of friends bare-skinned.
Unless you were friends with bennies. Stop that!
She wanted him to loosen up, but she didn’t need to have him loosen up with her to that extreme—no matter how tempting he’d become. She rubbed her temple as if her fingers would erase such thoughts.
“Turn your head to the right and you’ll see what I’m talking about.”
She followed his suggestion and her smile grew, and so did that burst of butterflies hibernating in her belly. He had the top down on his convertible—the car she loved—and waved over the windshield. She waved back, unable to take her eyes off him as he drew near. The light breeze lifted several strands of his hair, and the morning sun sent a halo of light around the edges. He wore those mirror-type aviator sunglasses. She did a double take as her expression bounced off the surface and right back at her. Could she look any more impressed? She smothered her smile along with the excitement swirling around her belly. With a leap of nonchalance she didn’t feel, she readjusted the neckline of her oversized blouse as the silky material slid down to reveal one shoulder. She might be a tad excited by his arrival, but she certainly didn’t need to look wanton.
Devi cleared her throat. Best to concentrate on his ride. And by that I mean keep your eyes above his waist. The breath left her lungs as she ran her gaze over the glossy red of his powerful car. “You drove my baby.”
“I knew you’d want to see her. Plus, she’s the perfect touring car to take up the coast.”
Devi disconnected their call and stepped back from the curb as Omar slid into the parking spot before her. The engine idled with smooth perfection. Of the four cars he owned, she loved the classic ’55 T-bird the most. The car symbolized so many things, most importantly the turning point a couple of years ago between Leland and Omar. After he’d signed on a huge client, Devi had urged him to fork over the Benjamins and treat himself. Hell, it wasn’t like he couldn’t afford it. Or, better yet, that he didn’t deserve something for all his hard work.
She’d never expected the fight that followed between father and son. The old man didn’t believe in frivolous spending, or any spending that didn’t benefit the firm. Omar stood up to him, and the shift in their relationship became visible. The respect Omar had always shown his father had been returned.
In that moment, Devi’s hope sparked that Omar didn’t have to be a replica of his father. All work and no play…
She still carried that hope. Little by little Omar gave her reason to believe. She ran her fingertips along the hood.
Omar stepped from the driver’s seat and eyed the one piece of luggage hanging from her shoulder. “Is that all you packed?”
“You’d be surprised at all the things you can cram into a duffel bag.” Especially one the size of a walk-in closet. Her smile died a quick death as her gaze traveled his length. “You read the same email from Mr. Bartow that I did, didn’t you?”
The right side of his mouth lifted. “I’m sure, since I forwarded it to you.”
“Then why are you dressed like that?”
Devi had expected to be a little nervous. Who wouldn’t be? She’d even expected Omar to run late. But what she hadn’t expected was what Omar had decided to wear. Here she’d dressed in a funky, oversize, feather-print top with an angled hem, matching turquoise capris, and multicolored rock shoes, and he wore a suit and tie.
“I thought this week was casual. How come you’re dressed to the nines and I’m in my comfy casuals?” She shifted her weight from one foot to the other. All the excitement over seeing him pull up in his amazing car vanished.
Their gazes clashed. “This is casual.”
“You look like you’re on your way to a business meeting. I see no casual, unless of course, you’re looking at me.” She waved her hand down her midsection. What had she expected? Omar was always exact in his appearance, but he probably didn’t know how to dress casually. If he owned jeans, or even shorts, she’d be surprised. And if he possessed a pair of sandals, he’d be the type to pair them with socks.
“It’s not like I’m wearing Armani.”
“I think the point of this week, at least from what I read in the email invite, was to give Mr. Bartow the chance to meet his prospective choices on a more intimate level. Everyone is bringing their families. We’ll be swimming, playing tennis, having a bonfire, enjoying poolside meals. Basically I read ‘bring something comfortable to wear’ written between the lines. As in casual. Everyday.”
Omar shrugged. “This is how I’m comfortable.”
“O, you’re overdressed. Please tell me you’ve packed at least a pair of shorts, a few tees, some tennis shoes or sandals?” She rose up on tiptoes to grab a peek inside his car, as if by spotting his luggage she’d suddenly have x-ray vision.
His smirk grew into a mischievous smile, and he stepped in front of her to block her view.
“Please don’t make me run inside to grab scissors and cut your trousers into Bermuda shorts.” She positioned her hands on each of his shoulders and jumped up a couple of times to see over his height, laughing when he continued to block her view either with his head or by pulling her down. “You’re a jerk.”
“And you never give up.” He grabbed her duffel bag and tossed it into the trunk before she could peer inside. “You need to relax. We’ve got this.” He wiped his hands against each other as if he actually did already have this in the bag and their meeting with Bartow was a minor formality.
“You’re too confident.”
“Nothing wrong with that.”
“Okay.” She shrugged, attaching her hands to her hips. “You’re the one who wants this contract.”
“And I’ll get it.”
“Let me see what you packed.” She let out a long breath and tried to grab the car keys. He dangled them over her head and out of reach. She jabbed him playfully in the stomach, and he laughed.
“You’re awfully cute when you’re all flustered. I’ve never seen you so—panicked. But, no worries, I’ve packed appropriately.” He jerked one shoulder. “If you don’t think you can trust me, go ahead and check my luggage.”
The butterflies in her belly eased. She waved away his offer of the car keys. “No. You’re right. I trust you. I’m just a tad nervous about meeting Bartow. About pulling this off.”
“Don’t overthink this.”
Devi grinned at how their role reversals had thrown off her game. Instead of her being the sane voice of reassurance, he’d become the calm one.
“Are you sure you don’t want to at least change before we get there? This really is supposed to be casual. And we want to make a good impression.”
He strolled around to the passenger side and opened the door, calling her over with the crook of his finger. “I’m all about first impressions. I want him to remember me. From the charcoal gray of my suit, to the crisp pinstriped shirt beneath—”
“And the amazing red of your power tie. That just happens to match your car. Did you plan that?”
He showed his agreement with the lift of his chin. “Now you get it.”
She slid into the passenger seat and fixed her sunglasses over her eyes. She smiled up at him, her focus on the edge of his mouth, the firm line of his chin, and the way his throat worked when he swallowed. The butterflies returned.
Omar closed the door, tapping down the lock with his palm. “Are you ready?”
She wet her lips. “More than you’d probably care to hear about.”
He gave her a funny look and then returned her smile.
Could her timing be any more off? How come she picked now—when they were going to spend the entire week pretending to be a couple—to become attracted to O? Of course her attraction would play well into their plan. Nothing like being attracted to look attracted.
She closed her eyes and settled her head against the back of her seat. They didn’t speak as Omar maneuvered the vehicle through town. Within minutes the car purred down the highway.
The cool midmorning breeze ruffled her hair. She should’ve worn a hat, or at least put her hair back with a scarf. Several sections whipped across her cheeks and stung her neck. If she didn’t act quickly her hair would be a giant rat’s nest by the time they arrived. She gathered all the wayward strands at her nape and twisted her hair into one big knot, tugging it tight so it wouldn’t loosen. She glanced at Omar. The sun softened his profile. He had one hand on the wheel with a relaxed grip and an easy smile on his lips.
“How long before we arrive?” she asked.
He hooked his wrist over the steering wheel to see his watch. “Maybe thirty to forty minutes.”
Devi sucked in a breath and let her head fall against the back of the seat. The passing scenery and warm morning sun lulled her into a relaxed state. She could so easily drift off.
“Penny for your thoughts?” Omar’s deep voice penetrated her consciousness.
“Hmm. Thinking about when you bought this car. Do you think you’ll treat yourself to another luxury buy after you sign Bartow?” She turned toward him, and even with her sunglasses on the light stunned her vision. It became easier to study him with one eye open and the other squinted shut.
He didn’t take his attention from the road. “Haven’t thought about it.”
“You deserve it. Like I said all those years back when you bought this car, you can’t take all that money with you. It’s in your pocket to be enjoyed.”
“Hmm.”
“Okay, penny for your thoughts.” She scooted upright and turned in her seat toward him, shielding the sun from her vision by arching her hand over her eyes.
A Friendly Engagement Page 7