Not In My Wildest Dreams (McKenna Series Book 2)

by Jamie Hollins

  Right, like Darcy would have given Heidi Schoenburg, the hot German exchange student with the humongous tits, a thumbs down, and Sean would have walked away.

  “Are you doing this because you're pissed at me about your designs?”

  “Oh, you mean the fact that you hated them, and you were too much of a pussy to say anything at the meeting about it?"

  "I don't hate them. I think they're fucking amazing!"

  What? Where did that come from?

  "Oh, wow, amazing, huh? Is that what you meant by 'They're different'?"

  She heard him groan in frustration and then a long pause. "Jesus, Darcy. I'm scared shitless about this deal, okay?” The anger that had been in his voice was replaced by anxiety. “I know what you’re going to bring to Boston on Wednesday is going to be incredible. It's just the plans are so different than anything Wellington has used in the past. I had a moment of weakness, where I thought it might be best to play it smart and stay safe with a conservative design. But you and everyone else, including Rhys Fucking Clarke, are right. It's a one-of-a-kind project, which deserves a one-of-a-kind design. I was wrong to doubt you."

  She squeezed her eyes shut. "You mean you don't hate my designs?"

  "No, Darce, I fucking love them. And the more I think about it, the more I'm convinced that Wellington will too."

  All her anger drained away. He hadn’t hated her work. For the past two weeks, she’d avoided this subject when she talked to him because it crushed her to think he didn’t respect her professional opinion.

  “Shit, Darce. I’m sorry for being such a prick. Quinn told me you were out with Rhys and it just lit me up. I’m just so on edge about this project.”

  She wished they weren’t talking on the phone about this. She wished he were right in front of her so he could look into her eyes and see the faith that she had in him.

  “We’re gonna get this deal. I know it.”

  She heard him sigh. “God, I hope you’re right.”

  “If it makes you feel any better, I told Rhys that I can’t be in a relationship with him if we’re gonna be working together.”

  He didn’t respond right away. Maybe he was saying a prayer of thanks that she had a level head?

  “Okay, good.” There was immense relief in that statement.

  “Aren’t you supposed to be at dinner?”

  Sean laughed. “I left and came to the pub. I had to get the fuck out of there.”

  “The Megan Show?”

  “Yeah. I was worried my sister was gonna say that she was pregnant. My mother might have had a stroke while my father would undoubtedly petition to have the county renamed after her.”

  Darcy laughed. “Megan County just doesn’t have a good ring to it.”

  He laughed softly on the other end of the line. After a second, he asked hesitantly, “We okay?”

  “Yeah, Sean. We’re okay.”

  Another pause. “I’ll let you get to bed then.”

  “All right. I’ll see you on Wednesday morning at your office.”

  “I’m looking forward to it.” His said it quietly, but she heard the smile in his voice.

  Darcy hung up the phone and leaned her weight against the back of the dining room chair she’d been gripping throughout their conversation. Their ten-minute phone call had completely worn her out. She’d gone from irritated to hopeful at his jealousy to blindingly angry when she’d realized the reason he didn’t want her seeing Rhys had nothing to do with her being out with another man.

  Sean’s mistress at the moment was this Wellington project. He was throwing everything he had into it. All his eggs were in one basket, and Darcy hated to think what would happen if they didn’t land the bid.

  She wasn’t going to think about that. Her grandmother always said that worry was a prayer for what you didn’t want to happen. And she honestly felt like her designs were perfect. So she tried to push all those doubts out of her mind.

  Instead, she thought about what it would feel like to have Sean’s absolute devoted attention and interest on her instead of on this project. To be the first thought he had in the morning and the last thought he had at night. To matter so much to him that he slept, ate, and breathed her every single day.

  Oh, if only she were that lucky.

  Chapter 8

  Sean sat rigidly in Rolland Construction’s large conference room ignoring Rhys Clarke’s presentation of their team’s architectural designs. He already knew everything there was to know about the designs, so he didn’t need to listen to what the big man was saying. Instead, he used the time to study Hyde Wellington.

  The Englishman was impressive. Not because he was impeccably dressed in a three-piece Armani suit or because he had a full head of thick black hair that he kept off his forehead in a slick fashion. No, Wellington was impressive because the man was locked up tight, like a fucking fortress.

  The presentation was going well. Sean had opened the meeting with a summary of Rolland Construction’s credentials, outlining their portfolio and the merits of working with a local Boston contractor on this hotel project. When Sean was finished, he’d handed it off to Rhys.

  It wasn’t that he was breathing a sigh of relief because his part of the talk was through. He’d known that the presentation was far from over, but there was a building excitement in the room as the minutes ticked by.

  Their team was solid.

  He’d assembled a group of highly intelligent professionals, and he couldn’t see how any of the other teams bidding on this project could do any better. But when he looked at Wellington and realized the man could be watching paint dry for all the emotion he had on his face, Sean wasn’t so sure.

  The man had no tells. Nothing to give away what he was thinking. No narrowing of the eyes, no pinching of the lips, no tapping his hand against his thigh. His sharp, dark brown eyes pinned you in place while he sat stoically in his chair, his face remaining completely impassive.

  At the moment, Wellington was looking at Rhys’s appealing sketch of the harbor side of the hotel. Wellington’s head was slightly tilted as his eyes roamed the projection screen. His mouth was relaxed but remained in a straight line. His reaction could be one of utter fascination or sheer boredom.

  Sean considered himself a pretty good judge of character. He’d been studying Wellington ever since he and his colleagues had gotten there that afternoon. And he still couldn’t figure him out.

  Wellington had given Sean his absolute attention the entire time he was speaking. He’d occasionally nodded to show his understanding but hadn’t cracked a smile when Sean threw in a small joke.

  It didn’t make any sense to him, because he knew Wellington had a sense of humor. When they’d first arrived, and he was making introductions to the rest of their team, he’d been speaking with one of Wellington’s associates when they all heard a loud laugh belt out from the other side of the conference room. Everyone’s attention flew over to see Wellington bent over at the waist, one hand on his stomach and the other on the back of a chair for support, laughing his ass off.

  The big man had moved aside, covering his mouth to stifle his laugh, and there was Darcy standing right in front of him with a small smile on her face. She’d shifted her eyes, and when she’d seen Sean, they’d widened ever so slightly and her smile had grown.

  Of course she’d be the one entertaining their biggest potential client. He didn’t care what joke or story or lewd comment she’d just said to him as long as Wellington was amused. As the Englishman wiped under his eyes, the wide-eyed expressions on his associates’ faces told Sean that their boss’s gut-busting laugh wasn’t something they saw every day.

  Now that laugh was gone, and a stony expression was glued in its place. A couple of times during Rhys’s slide presentation, Wellington leaned forward and asked a few questions about some design decisions that Rhys’s team had made. As expected, the architect answered sufficiently. Wellington would just nod and sit back in his chair.

  Rhys con
cluded his portion of the presentation, and Sean moved to the head of the table to address the room.

  “Now that you know what Rolland Construction can do, and what our idea is for the physical design of the structure, it’s time to find out how we plan to make everything sparkle and shine on the inside. Darcy, it’s all yours.”

  Darcy stood and walked to the front of the room, taking the projector’s remote from Rhys. Dressed in a snug short-sleeved dress that matched her jet black hair, she looked gorgeous. Her outfit reminded Sean of a flight attendant. It was attractive yet also made her look perfectly capable of saving your life in case of an emergency.

  Professional Darcy had a way about her that was completely at odds with the Darcy he knew personally. She wasn’t loud and in-your-face or over-the-top in any way. She always gave the impression that she was comfortable in every situation, and when she spoke, she sounded like she knew what she was talking about.

  Even with that said, Sean knew she was nervous. He could tell it from the way she folded her hands in front of her so no one would see them shaking. He could see it in the way she locked both of her knees to keep from pacing. But listening to her talk, you’d have no clue.

  “I’m Darcy Owens, and I’ve been contracted to handle the interior design on this project. Let’s take a tour of the hotel as if we were a guest arriving for the first time.”

  Instead of sitting back down in his seat, Sean leaned against the wall of windows. It wasn’t that he was restless. He was sure Darcy was going to do great, but just in case there were some tough questions about the project that Wellington raised, he wanted to be close enough to jump in.

  Darcy clicked the remote, bringing up a vibrant CAD illustration of the hotel’s lobby. She described the features of the sprawling space, noting flooring choices, furnishing textures, window treatments, and the reception desk.

  As he listened to her soft voice carry through the room, he saw the lobby so clearly in his mind that he didn’t need to look at the screen. She continued and guided them through the hotel bar, then the outside terrace on the harbor side, followed by the elevator bay and the main grand staircase leading to the first floor of rooms.

  Her shoulders relaxed as she moved on and presented each portion as if she were standing inside the structure looking at the room with a critical eye, hoping to pass on the love of every piece of the design she’d carefully thought through. Seeing the excitement build in her eyes made Sean grin.

  He pulled his attention away from Darcy and looked around the room. Michael sat at the far end of the table with his arms crossed at his chest, next to Charlie, whose eyes were glued to the presenter. Michael’s face was lit with anticipation, knowing that the meeting was going well and this was the last segment to get through.

  Regardless of what happened today, Sean knew that Michael had been impressed with his efforts. As for Charlie, he guessed that the middle-aged man had a small crush on Darcy.

  Ever since they’d had that introductory dinner meeting, Sean noticed the procurement specialist’s ears would perk up whenever Darcy’s name was mentioned. Even now, with Charlie’s absolute attention hanging off every word that passed her lips, Sean was amused. He didn’t think Charlie was exactly Darcy’s type.

  Next to Charlie was Rhys, who was another story altogether. The big man sat back in his chair, looking relieved that his part of the presentation was over. He’d loosened his tie a bit, allowing some air to get to that giant neck of his.

  Sean watched the big man study her. When Darcy would turn to point at something on the screen, Rhys’s gaze lowered to her ass. At one point when Darcy used her hands to talk, her movement pulled the top of her dress tighter across her chest. Sean noticed Rhys run his tongue against the inside of his lower lip. No matter that Sean had warned him off of Darcy weeks earlier at his party. The big troll still wanted her.

  He’d have expected this type of reaction from his team if they were watching another woman. Take the new receptionist, for instance. Rebecca was a tall, leggy redhead with a body that could keep a man’s attention for hours on end. She had enough common sense to answer phones, smile politely at any visitors who stopped by, and she knew the alphabet, so filing was right up her alley.

  Although he had no way of knowing for sure, Sean would bet that the woman could also flirt like a demon and give great head. She was the type of woman whom men ogled.

  Not Darcy.

  Darcy was probably the smartest, most hardworking woman he’d ever met. Darcy could hold her own in any situation, drink like a fish, cuss like a longshoreman, and give a presentation to one of the biggest hoteliers in the world.

  Darcy ran circles around women like Rebecca.

  In fact, while Sean studied his friend, he conceded that there really wasn’t much Rebecca had over Darcy at all. Actually, he’d never seen her look more appealing than at that moment, when she was explaining the benefits of cherry hardwood over oak.

  There were so many layers to Darcy he didn’t even know how to begin to understand them. And in a room full of people who’d only met her weeks before, why was he the last one to realize this?

  “Up until this point, Mr. Wellington, you’re probably wondering what is so extraordinary about our project. Besides the amazing team that Rolland Construction has put together and the state-of-the-art architectural plan that Rhys just presented, I’d like to show you the part of the interior design that I’m most excited about.”

  Darcy clicked to the next slide, showing a split screen of four computer-generated hotel suites.

  “We propose an individual suite design for this boutique hotel. Each suite, although structurally similar, will be a unique, one-of-a-kind design. Guests flying in from other countries will get their pick of whether they’d like to stay in the Royal Suite,” she said, pointing to the room tastefully decorated in rich royal purples, “or the Crimson Room,” she explained, indicating the design with rich reds and scarlets mixed with subdued cream and ivory.

  She clicked to one more screen showing two additional room designs.

  “Each room is truly unique, giving the guest a new experience with every stay. Repeating guests may wish to return to stay in the same room to relive memories from a delightful trip to Boston. Other loyal guests may wish to try a different room with each stay as if, every time they return, they are staying at a completely different hotel. One common thread among the rooms will be the layouts and the fact that each will be filled with the highest-quality furnishings.”

  The whole time, Wellington remained passive, and Sean wanted to smack that expressionless look right off his face. Didn’t the man see how amazing Darcy’s designs were? Good God, they were perfect.

  A million thoughts ran through Sean’s head. He was thankful to her for being so brilliant, thankful that he’d thought of her when they decided to put this team together. He felt foolish for doubting her ideas. But mostly, he was proud of her. She was talented in so many ways… ways that Sean had never seen before and probably more ways than he’d even considered.

  In the middle of a remark about the hallway light fixtures, Wellington suddenly held up a finger to stop the presentation.

  “Sorry to interrupt, Ms. Owens, but I do have a question.”

  “Of course,” she said.

  “Why would a client, let’s say from London, come all the way to Boston to stay in the Gilded Suite, which looks like the Palace of Versailles?”

  Darcy tilted her head, momentarily quieted by his question. Sean shifted his weight to his other leg as he leaned against the window. He felt this irrational surge of anger that out of all of them, Wellington would hit Darcy with such a pointed question.

  If it had been Sean up there, he could have taken it. He was sure that Rhys would have been able to deflect it, too. But Darcy didn’t have the experience presenting to clients. She could probably count on one hand the number of client presentations she’d done, and this particular one just so happened to be the biggest client presentat
ion that she would probably ever have in her career.

  “That’s a very good point, and I thank you for bringing it up. We anticipate that you’ll have guests from all over the world. In my presentation design booklet, which I’ll provide for you to take with you, I have over thirty different design ideas. Some, as I’ve shown you, are themed with colors or atmosphere in mind. Others are traditionally American. For instance, there’s the Liberty Room, which is outfitted in rich navy and red with gold adornments that will be symbolic of early Colonial history. There’s the Revere Suite, encompassing different themes held dear to those from Boston. Also, the New England Room, which will call forth colors and textures that evoke the lakes and forest vistas of the New England states.”

  Wellington nodded slowly, his dark gaze piercing into Darcy as if he was committing her words to memory. “Why give me over thirty designs when I’ve asked your team to give me a final product ready for production?”

  Sean pushed away from the window, fully intending to jump in to deflect the question. As he pulled in a breath to do just that, Darcy beat him to it.

  “I do have my top twelve designs picked out for you, Mr. Wellington; however, I know that your wife was particularly interested in this project and thought she might like to add her personal touch to the hotel. My thirty designs can be presented to Mrs. Wellington, and she can assist with the final decision on which rooms are included with the project.”

  Wellington narrowed his eyes for a split second, and Sean thought his own heart would stop beating. Then the man smiled. Not a polite business smile but a big toothy grin that lit up his face.

  “My wife would like that very much.”

  Thank fuck.

  Sean didn’t know if Darcy had gambled on the whole wife helping idea or not. Maybe she figured if the man was building a hotel for his wife, he must love her. And if his wife was anything like any of the women Sean knew, she’d love to pick out designs for a hotel. What woman wouldn’t?

  “Maybe you can give me a clue as to which is your favorite room?”

  Wellington relaxed back into his chair now. The business tycoon wasn’t at the table anymore. Now he was just a big old softie who still had a hard-on for his wife.