Ben stepped around him toward the back door on Krista’s side. “Oh no, I knew full well what I’d get if I ate her pizza. She gets cranky when she’s hungry. Or when you eat leftovers she was looking forward to. She’ll get over it.”
Sean crossed to the driver’s side as the other man got into the car. Ben was a trip. Small, nerdy, mousy—he wasn’t a type of guy Sean had ever hung out with—which was about to change. Ben obviously knew Krista well, which meant they were friends. It was another “in” to her life, and Sean would take everything he could get. He wanted to get bit again.
When Sean crawled in, the two were sitting in silence. “All set?”
“Yup,” Ben said, crossing his hands on his lap. Krista looked out the window.
“Kris, I didn’t have any choice. You can just order more,” Ben said reasonably.
“I know. I need a minute to mope.”
“Are you like this with all food, or just pizza?” Sean asked as he started the car.
“Never touch her chocolate,” Ben declared as he looked over his pile of art in the back seat.
“So what are you working on?” Sean asked Ben.
Chapter Eighteen
Krista immediately zoned out. Once Ben got going he was unstoppable, and it all sounded harebrained. To Krista, a sculpture made out of junk was still just a pile of junk. To Ben, it was an expression of humanity’s struggle with garbage. And he was paying top dollar to express that. Purely illogical.
Once they got to the building and parked, Krista and Sean helped Ben carry all his crap up to the office Sean would soon move into. Apparently Ben would get to work in the art department later, after Sean was sure everyone had gone home. They all walked in to the giant office, equipped with a bookcase, a giant desk, a table with chairs around it, and a great view.
“Nice life,” Ben said, looking around. “It’s bigger than my bedroom.”
“It was not easy to get.” Sean crossed to a visitor chair and pointed for Ben to take the plush leather seat behind the desk. Ben looked way out of place.
“Krista, show him what we got and what we need,” Sean said as he leaned back, closed his eyes and crossed his ankle over his knee.
“Please,” she replied in her mother’s voice.
“S’il te plaȋt,” Sean said in French with a smirk. Krista got a zing in her stomach that he used the familiar form. Also that he even knew it. “But first, look in the right top desk drawer.”
Krista slid the drawer open and stared down at a well-organized drawer full of office supplies.
“Right desk drawer.”
“Oh,” Krista said, not quite done moping about her pizza. She’d grown up with a little sister who ate everything of Krista’s. Literally everything. Ice cream was the worst. When you got home after school and you wanted your Rocky Road, especially after thinking about it all day, and you opened the carton, so excited, and you found … an empty freaking carton with a note that said, “Loser!” it really killed a girl’s mood. It didn’t matter where she hid her food, either, her sister found it and ate it—even the stuff the wench didn’t like.
It was now one of her biggest pet peeves.
She opened the drawer and found a Snickers.
“Will that help?” Sean asked, observing her.
Krista snatched it and met his sparkling green eyes. “You keep candy in your desk?”
“Snickers for when I can’t get out to lunch and need a lift, but I’ll start stocking more from now on.”
“Wise,” Ben nodded.
Krista held on to the Snickers as she leaned over Ben and logged into the computer. She accessed the art database and presentation, both showing him the research, which he blinked at and shook his head, and then the art portion.
When she was done, he said, “That’s a mess.”
“Can you put it together?” Sean asked, hope replaced with worry.
“Well, do you have any other pictures? Those don’t really go with what you’re trying to convey.”
“Show him the files,” Sean gave a vague motion with his finger.
“Please,” Krista said again, hiding a chuckle as she clicked the mouse over Ben’s shoulder.
Sean sighed. “Pretty please.”
“Don’t sigh around Jasmine,” Ben said as his eyes followed Krista’s hands on the keyboard. “She’ll flick you in the head. It hurts.”
Sean sat forward laughing as Krista showed Ben how to search the database. Ben was a smart kid—it took him one pass and he was on his own. He made happy sounds of an art nerd’s wet dream. It took him all of fifteen minutes to find what he was after, then another fifteen putting everything together. He lost no time in accessing Krista’s research and changing the layout. “Kris, I don’t know how to work with this graph and stuff.”
Mouth full of Snickers, she saw her information in different colors and different places on the page. The only thing she’d done that still looked the same was the actual data.
“Sean seems to think I do good work,” she said in humorous exasperation. “Then you come in and change everything like I’m a dunce.”
Ben shrugged, “It’s the hair color.”
Sean started laughing again.
Ignoring Sean, but unable to keep a small smile from her lips, Krista changed the graph to Ben’s precise, and irritating, qualifications, then straightened up and looked at him.
“Print,” Ben commanded. “Now you can just put it together while I look through all this great art! My company doesn’t hold a candle to all this!”
Sean opened his eyes with a gleam. He now knew how to sell Ben on a job. Krista wondered how long it would take to bring him over to the dark side. Her guess was not long.
She got everything off the printer, put it in order, including her revamped table of contents, and gave it to Sean.
“Amazing,” he breathed quietly.
“It will work then?” She asked, inadvertently noticing the bulge of his pants as they tightened over his man parts. She wondered what kind of underwear he wore. Also, if he was this big when relaxed, she wondered how big he was when he was at full mast...
Sean glanced up and caught her look. He cocked his head with that devilish grin playing on his lush lips. It was awfully hard to bluff when you kept showing your cards to everyone at the table.
He held her eyes for a moment longer, heat kindling, before he tore them away and looked down at the new report. He cleared his throat then said, “This is perfect. I need to add a few things of my own, then it’s ready for John. This company needs people in charge like you and Ben. This took half a work day, tops, and it’s in perfect shape. Just think what we can do with more time?”
After the report was ready for Sean, and Ben got a tour of the art department, which had his eyes sparkling like a man in a mid-life crisis looking at a Ferrari, everyone was left to their own devices, which meant Krista, who refused to take Sean’s money for pizza, went home alone to an empty house and an empty calendar. She would have had an empty belly, too, since without the pizza the fridge she was down to moldy cheese, OJ, and Abbey’s labeled items, but five minutes after she got home she got a text from a number she didn’t recognize telling her Goat Hill was on its way.
She now had Sean’s number. It was the whipped cream to the mud pie of the day.
Once Sean had Ben’s phone number, effectively pushing aside the middle man—Krista—it was only a matter of time before he talked Ben into a job. She had absolutely no doubt it would happen. Not many people could say “no” to Sean for long when he had something in his sights, and Ben barely needed a push. Once he saw the empire the catalogers had built, and the fully stocked art department, he was begging to be brought over.
So barely a week later, when Ben plopped down next to her on the couch one evening, she figured Sean was somewhere, relaxing, complimenting himself on his effective sales work.
“He talked you into it,” she stated without preamble.
“He said that someday I co
uld be the head of the art department. And after all, I need a job, why should it matter which company? And your company is seriously set up in a way my other company wasn’t.”
“Ben, he could tell anyone they could be the head of the art department. It doesn’t mean you will be.”
“But he said if I worked with you then we would probably rise up together. And that makes sense because we do make a good team.”
“We would be in different departments. It wouldn’t be our choice to work together.”
“But he’s right; I can work anywhere while I am going to school. I might as well work in the place that gives me the best deal.”
She couldn’t argue with that. If it was a good deal for Ben, and knowing Sean, it was, then she couldn’t fault Sean for making it happen.
She answered by shrugging. The decision was made and she hoped Sean and company didn’t gobble him up.
After watching TV for a few minutes, Ben said, “He is a very attractive guy.”
That’s an understatement. But where was he going with it? Ben wasn’t g*y, but he did have an artist’s perspective. A glance at him revealed nothing. Was it just commentary in general, or aimed at her specifically? She knew Ben would never point out that Sean was out of her league, but her brain certainly put the implication there.
“Indeed,” she replied nonchalantly, hopefully leading him nowhere with her response so he would have no choice but to elaborate.
Frustratingly, he left it at that! That meant she had to, too, or else it would be glaringly obvious she liked the guy, which was something she didn’t even want to admit to herself, let alone say out loud.
The day approached for the long-anticipated dinner and wine fundraiser. As promised, the whole team would go sans dates, along with, but not in the same ride as, the executives and some prominent members of the company. Sean’s team would be solely responsible for hanging around and hopefully talking to someone important. They were given assigned tables and, apparently, paired with someone they could dazzle. Krista’s person of note was one of the guys in the presentation room so long ago. In other words, no one of consequence. All she had to do was let him look at her boobs and it was in the bag.
Which meant she had an excuse to show them. Dazzle factor: check!
She was wearing a new dress that made her bod look super sexy, but was still mostly conservative. It covered all the necessary elements while still showing off her form. And yes, maybe it could have covered a little more boob, but it was still G-rated, and she did have an excuse for that, so she didn’t worry about it.
She did her hair in a long flowing coif and applied striking makeup since it was a dressy affair. She had a ton of fun making herself look glamorous, which meant she completely lost track of time, so when the doorbell rang, she threw out a curse, hastily grabbed her heels and sprayed on some perfume before she rushed to the door.
Ray was standing there, waiting patiently, dressed in a well-tailored suit and perfectly combed hair. His shoes were like mirrors and relatively new. He probably hated dressing like this, but being a salesman, he was an old pro at it.
“Ready?” he asked pleasantly.
Krista checked to make sure everything was in place. “Crap, my clutch!” She clattered down the hall like a lame horse. When she returned with everything accounted for, Ray led her down the front steps, holding out his hand to help her. Apparently the unlady-like clomping on wood floors made him nervous.
“I got it,” she said, daintily following him. She figured she’d better be extra elegant so he didn’t think she was homicide in heels.
It was then she was greeted by a fantastic sight! Nothing said important like showing up in a limousine! This was shaping up to be a good night.
“Going in style!” Krista said as Ray opened the door and handed her inside.
“Krista, honey, you look ravishing!” Marcus exclaimed as she climbed in.
Krista smiled radiantly. “Thanks, kind sir. I just bought this dress.”
“Who is it?”
“Michael Kors. I can’t afford Gucci.”
“Not yet, honey. Not yet. But someday soon you will.” Marcus and Judy laughed together as Krista got comfortable, a non-hopeful smile on her face.
Krista surveyed her surroundings as Ray handed her a glass of champagne. Sean sat near the front of the long, totally decked out limo. An overdone-up Monica sat beside him in a pair of tall stilettos, a super tight, ultra revealing black dress, and her entire bag of makeup applied to her face.
Those two were sitting in no-man’s-land, which was the very end of the limo, without a door in easy access. A person at that end had to crouch, scoot and climb down the middle of the smallish aisle while trying to look graceful and not tripping and falling on their head. If you were a girl with heels and a tight dress, like Monica, it guaranteed a fall! Krista should know, she’d been there before. Twice.
“Jesus Geek Girl, you live out in bum-fuck nowhere!” Marcus exclaimed.
“A.K.A. by the beach,” she retorted.
Marcus and Judy sat halfway down the long aisle, across from the champagne.
“Yeah, way out by the beach,” Marcus said as he looked out the window at the not so distant waves. “I haven’t been out this far in I don’t know how long.”
“Well, at least you’re doing it in style!” Judy said in high spirits.
Judy and Marcus looked a perfect pair. Both were dressed in sleek, black numbers. Marcus was in a suit that made him look young, hip and at the height of fashion. His handsome face was shed of all stubble and his smile was never misplaced.
Judy was the model of conservative, with a high-neck, form-fitting dress. It was flashy without being tight or revealing. She had a cute pair of pumps that seemed well placed on her matronly, yet somehow still sleek, appearance. Krista hoped she looked half as good at her age.
And if she’d said that out loud, she’d probably get slapped. Mental note.
Then there was Sean.
Krista had to hand it to him, the man made the world sigh when he went all out. She didn’t get to see him standing, but she could imagine. Armani suit, she was sure of it. She would later learn it was perfectly tailored to his outstanding body. His hair was spiky in front and tamed on the sides, which made him look trendy and bad-boy at the same time. The man was a confident, shiny million-dollar-bill.
She refrained from looking at him other than in glances, because Monica was overbearing in her scrutiny of the newcomer. Krista did not want to get in a catfight for a guy she had no interest in pursuing. How high-school.
It took about ten minutes before Sean started his tirade of what to expect, who was important, and what to say. Moreover, what not to say. None of this dealt with the idiot at Krista’s table, so she let the bubbles wrap her up as she looked out the window in the lap of luxury.
At one point in the hour-and–a-half-long drive she came to realize a limo ride sucked without tunes, and reached up to the console above her head to flick on her favorite station. It wasn’t until she noticed the entire limo looking at her that she remembered this was a work function, and Sean had been talking.
“Oops,” she half-shrugged with an apologetic grin at five astonished faces. Well, four astonished faces. One was frustrated and mostly angry.
She smiled sheepishly and turned the thing off, but for some reason, “My bad,” didn’t erase Sean’s look of death. He might have been under the impression she wasn’t paying attention.
All too soon they arrived and were immediately thrust into the social work-world of Monica’s devising, which, being honest, she fit into perfectly. She twittered and moved around the crowd, touching men’s arms and laughing constantly. She was a social butterfly in mating season; it was gross.
Krista, in comparison, was the bearded lady. There was a special area for people like her, but unfortunately, she wasn’t in it. She was the nerd among cool people. The youth among adults. The poor college student among the business elite. And like a
poor college student, she went to the bar. She knew how to fit in like a pro at the bar! Who said she didn’t have experience?
~*~*~*~
“You made it,” John said as Sean joined him.
“Just got here. There was more traffic than I expected.”
“Perfect timing. Tory just arrived. He’s without Emily.”
Sean looked around and spotted Tory over by the list of names and seating arrangements. “That’s not a good sign. He’ll probably try to duck out early.”
“That’s what I was thinking. Who have you got him next to?”
Sean turned away from Tory so the man didn’t realize he was the object of scrutiny. “Marcus. Tory doesn’t trust either of us and there was no one else.”
“What about Judy?”
“No.”
“Monica? She is looking hot tonight. She’s good for that sort of thing.”
“She doesn’t know the product. And she isn’t the right sort to talk to him.”
“True. Did you bring the cute Research girl?”
“Yes. She’s by the bar.”
John scanned the twinkling social hub and whistled. “Wow. Nice rack.”
“She’s not one I’d pair with Tory,” Sean said, looking the other way uncomfortably.
He could watch Krista all night. In fact, that’s all he wanted to do. Despite the pressure of their job here tonight, it’s all he wanted to do. Earlier in the limo, as they’d pulled up to Krista’s house, Monica had spread her legs so her knee brushed his, trying to focus his attention on what waited between her thighs. And two years ago that might’ve still worked. But the second Krista’s body was silhouetted in the door frame, sporting a sleek, glittering blue dress that showed her off as he had never seen before, his thoughts and eyes stuck to her. Monica was pretty, sure, but in a manufactured sort of way. Krista was different. She was real. Too good for a guy like him. Too pure.
And if that would stop him trying for her, he’d truly be a changed man. He was more mature now, but he still had the arrogance of youth. He just wished he had a few tricks up his sleeve that she’d buy. She was a magician’s worst nightmare.
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