by Kris Jayne
Regardless, Micky forced herself out of bed and into the office. She'd buried herself in proofreading all of the event handouts when Brittany called from reception.
"This is Micky."
"Someone must have an admirer. You have an amazing delivery."
"Oh, thank you."
Micky walked toward reception with a mix of excitement and dread. Of course, Nick must have sent her flowers. However, she didn't feel like answering a pack of questions from Brittany, who would tell the entire office her version of Micky's romantic adventures. She rounded the office, expecting to see a bouquet of roses, but found a gorgeous vase with beautiful tropical flowers sitting at the administration desk. Brittany could hardly contain herself as Micky approached.
"Oh, my God! They're unbelievable! Is it from that lawyer from upstairs? He called about you yesterday," she exclaimed. Micky blushed.
"Really?"
"I told him that you'd gone to that restaurant. Did you see him?"
Micky ignored the last question.
"They're from a friend."
"Those flowers are for more than friendship."
"You know how men are. Always trying to be impressive," Micky said breezily, both trying to calm the excitable receptionist and trying to keep getting flowers in perspective.
"Aren't you going to read the card?" Brittany asked.
"When I get to my office," Micky replied curtly but then smiled at the young woman. She picked up the beautiful crystal vase and started back to her desk. As soon as she got to her office, Micky ripped open the tiny envelope.
Purple is your favorite color. Mine is blue. One less thing that's a mystery.
- Nick
Normally, flowers didn't impress her. Any man can send flowers—certainly if he has money and a secretary to arrange these things for him—but she knew Nick had picked these out himself. The color was beautiful. Oddly enough, the deeper flowers were the same rich color as her bedroom walls. Not that he could know this. Smiling again to herself, she picked up the phone and called Nick's mobile number.
"Good morning, beautiful," he answered.
"If this is how you answer your phone, you must have a lot of friends," Micky replied.
"This is how I answer the phone for you." Such a charmer, Micky thought.
The compliment and the deep timber of his voice froze her for a second. "I'm just calling to thank you for the flowers. They're gorgeous—and unexpected."
"I'm glad you like them. I wanted to send you something unique."
"You hit the mark," Micky responded as Taryn stopped by her office, saw the flowers, and raised her eyebrows in appreciation before gesturing that she'd come back. "You've made me the envy of every woman in the office."
Nick laughed. "I guess that's one reason to send a woman flowers. I was only hoping to impress you. And maybe get another date."
"I'll see you Saturday, right? I listened today on the radio when they talked about tonight's game. I'm brushing up on my basketball knowledge."
"Yes, I'll see you Saturday, or if you're not busy after work tonight, we can maybe grab a quick bite. There's that great tapas place around the corner."
Micky had vowed to take things slowly, and not rush into some whirlwind, but rationality didn't sound like much fun at all. "I'd love to, but I might have to work late tonight. I have a staff meeting in about half an hour, and I'm pretty sure my boss in going to have a laundry list of things to finish. How about I let you know this afternoon? By three, I should know which way the wind is blowing. If not, tonight, definitely another time, though, okay?"
"Absolutely." Nick's voice dropped with disappointment.
"Great," Micky replied as another coworker circled past her office. "I've got to get going. I'll text you at three. Talk to you later, Nick."
"Bye, gorgeous."
Micky hung up the phone and took a deep breath. Every time she talked to Nick, he left her flushed and a little giddy. She couldn't go into her meeting looking like a blushing school girl. She turned to her reports and tried to refocus as Taryn bounded into her office.
"Okay, the flowers are gorgeous, Micky. I'm not going to ask about what happened after I left last night," Taryn remarked. "If he sent these, I don't guess I need to."
"Nothing happened. We left shortly after you did. Now, we need to make sure we're on the same page about what we've got left to do on the event plan. Have you set up the meeting with the multimedia guy? I want to walk through the show plan and make sure we have all the graphics set for the keynote and the transitions between each speaker. We also need to leave room for an executive Q and A. Don't list the speakers yet. That's TBD."
Executives from Azur and Midsummer wanted to do a question and answer session on the joint venture.
"Seriously? Nothing?" Taryn asked. "Fine. We need to prep for the meeting, but you and I are going to have drinks tonight when we finish, and I'm getting a full report."
Micky sighed and gave Taryn a little smile.
"If it looks like I'm getting out of here before nine tonight, I'm going to call Nick and see if he still wants to meet up for a drink. He asked if I was free. And that's all the news you're getting right now. We have to anticipate any open items that Ben will ask about. You know how he is."
"Let's get moving because we need to get everything lined up so you can get laid."
Micky blushed.
"I am not getting laid tonight. I barely know him. I enjoy his company. Plain and simple."
"For Christ's sake, Micky. You need to enjoy something more than company. How long has it been since Eric the snake? It's been, like, a year. You haven't sniffed it in over a year!"
"Taryn! Jesus! I don't need sniffs. I need a guy who wants more than sniffs, but we're not going to talk about that." Micky paused. "Agenda. Graphics. Signage. Did you get Ben to sign off on the lighting plan?"
Taryn threw up her hands. "He wouldn't respond to my emails. We've got to get an up or down out of him this morning."
"Alright, what else?" Micky jotted notes down on her to-do list with purpose. In the back her mind, the thought of sleeping with Nick hovered. It was way too soon, but she wondered how long it would be before she slept with him. How would it happen? She imagined his arriving to pick her up on Saturday, opening the door and just saying, "Fuck it," and throwing herself at him. What did she care about the NBA? His tongue on hers. His hands on her breasts. Him naked, pinning her to cold tile of her foyer.
"Micky? Hello? Did you talk to the hotel about the conference meeting rooms?" Taryn stared at her.
"Umm, yeah. We have three rooms for meetings and an executive suite like we discussed. You'll need to maintain the schedule for press and analyst interviews."
"You know, once you do him, he'll be out of your mind, and you'll be able to focus," Taryn said, smugly. "When I started dating Jeff, I couldn't get him out of my mind. He's so tall and handsome, with the most luscious lips I'd ever seen on a man. The fantasies I had about those lips kept me up at night. Then, I tasted them. Spent a whole weekend with them."
"And that got him out of your mind? You're engaged. Obviously, it didn't get you over him."
"No, I fell madly in love with him and with his adorable little girl. But, it settled things down. I could focus on other aspects of our relationship. I'll never get over him. Or his lips. Or his tongue. Or any other part of him."
"You are so inappropriate. I'm calling HR."
"I'm a truth teller, Micky. Think it over. We better get to that meeting," Taryn noted, glancing at the clock.
As Micky stood up to go, she thought about Taryn's other grand idea: That having sex with Nick would erase his mystique. Somehow, she doubted it.
By three o'clock, it was pretty obvious Micky wasn't getting out of the office anytime soon. She had hours of meetings left and then a few items to pull together with Taryn so the marketing team in France had what they needed by morning. While sitting in yet another status briefing with the client on a conference call, sh
e shot a quick text to Nick.
> No way I'm going 2 make it. Meetings until 9. Sorry! M
>> No dinner?
> Ordering in and working through.
>> That sucks.
> See you Sat! Maybe meet earlier? Call me later.
She hated putting him off until Saturday, but it might be good. Her mind—another other less intellectual parts of her—were getting a bit carried away. She didn't want to move so fast. Ever since their kiss, she'd been drowning, euphoric and afraid.
Micky didn't need Eric 2.0. She'd see Nick on Saturday. With that, she turned her full attention to the spreadsheet projected onto the wall of the conference room.
Chapter Twenty
While Nick had decided he couldn't pass along the information he gained from Micky's computer, it prompted him to research Midsummer over the next several days. He zoomed in on the screenshot and recognized it as a press release.
Azur and Midsummer had agreed on a new go-to-market plan, where they'd partner in approaching a customer segment new to both companies. It didn't discuss a merger, but quotations from both executives talked about "future collaborations."
Nick figured he could include Midsummer in his next report along with a half dozen other potential bidders, losing all the specifics and emphasizing that Azur wanted to strike a deal now. He compiled all he had into a presentation, which he and Bob would deliver to Tom, Jonah, and their strategist Andrew Caldwell.
Walking into the meeting, Nick squared his shoulders, and the men shook hands. Bob kicked things off and then ceded the floor to Nick, who spent thirty minutes painstakingly detailing why Tom Moran needed to stop dithering.
"That's your advice for us? A go or no-go in the next week?" Jonah asked. He folded his hands in front of him, mirroring his father's posture.
"I don't like feeling pressured," Tom grumbled.
Nick glanced at Andrew, who'd provided some of the data indicating they needed to move quickly. Andrew jerked his gaze down to his notebook.
"All indications are that Azur already has something in the works. If you don't get in now, you'll have missed your shot. If you review appendices D through F, you'll see three possible offers that we believe could get you in front of them immediately," Nick pressed. Rather than continue to stand with his laser pointer, he slipped into a chair so he could be at eye level with the ultimate decision maker.
"The price on these offers is still too high. I don't see how a company that we all agree is in need of a cash infusion to maintain its growth could reject an offer twelve to fifteen percent below your lowest estimates," Tom argued.
Nick kept his expression steady even as he kicked and screamed on the inside. Tom was wrong. Crazy wrong. Out of options, Nick turned to his boss with widened eyes.
"Let's go back a bit and look at the facts," Bob said before launching into a reiteration of what Nick had already presented.
Tom shook his head. "I need a day or so to kick this around. You've done all the work to prep us. We can move quickly if need be. No worries."
Nick had only worries. He possessed the one piece of hard data that could push Tom over the edge, but couldn't bring himself to use it. Part of him didn't want Tom to win. After he poached information from Micky, he'd be adding insult to injury to help make Tom her boss. Eventually, Moran would probably break the company up and sell it off for more money.
Nick pulled his palm down over his face and glanced out the window. Maybe he could jump.
Late that afternoon, Nick did get some good news. His PI called him with a report on his investigation into Vivienne's blackmailer.
"I talked to the manager at the UPS store. He remembers the guy who dropped off the package. He comes there all the time with large packages, and the letter-sized packages stood out to him. Said the guy seemed nervous."
"Great. Does he know the guy? A name or even a description would help."
"Nope. I mean it sounded like he knows the guy and has a name, but he wouldn't give it to me. But I noticed a security camera for the strip mall. After some finagling, I got a bit of footage from around the corner of the shipping place. Around the time of the shipment, there's one car on the end of the shopping center. You can only see part of the vehicle, but I got a partial phone number and a logo—like a company service vehicle. Dug a little more and ID'ed the company. It's small—only eight regular employees. So, I have a list of names I can easily check out and ask some questions. I've already checked to see if any of them live at or near that apartment complex. Came up empty."
"No, no. I don't want to spook the guy. Where does he work?"
"Here's the thing, I don't know the nature of what's going on here. I can look into whatever you want, but turning over a list of names when all but one are probably innocent. Can't do it. If you tell me who the target is and what the pictures were that they got, I can cross-reference their info with info on my list. Narrow it down."
Not a bad idea, Nick thought, but he knew Vivienne would freak out about sharing her problem with a private investigator.
"That's not going to work. Listen, I'm not trying to cause a bunch of drama for people. I'm interested in one name and that's it. I need to know who the person is. I may never contact them at all. I don't know. I'm certainly not going to whack anybody, if that's what you're thinking."
Rick wasn't convinced. "No one is going to tell you in advance that they're going to whack somebody. And anyway, I'd give you a single name, if I had one, but as long as things are unsure, I can't turn this over and let you be Nancy Drew."
"Alright. Let me take this back and let you know."
Nick hung up, wondering how to proceed. Maybe he could go talk to the store manager himself. All he needed enough information to get his own trail to follow.
Driving on Interstate 30 in rush hour traffic put Nick in a surly mood by the time he reached the shipping store in south Fort Worth only fifteen minutes before close. He hovered at the end of the line as people hurried to get their last-minute packages in the mail by the end of the day, then approached the clerk. The pimply kid looked barely old enough to drive.
"Hi. Is the manager here? I had a question."
"I'm actually the manager here. What can I do for you?" the young man asked with a squeak.
"Oh. Well, I had a question about a package that was dropped off here a few weeks ago. Nick pulled out the envelope with the tracking number. I needed to return some information to the guy, but the address here isn't a good one."
"Has to be. That label was printed online. All addresses are verified before you can pay, sir."
Nick regrouped. "True. I should be more specific. The address is for a real location, but it's an apartment complex with no apartment number or anything."
"Maybe call the guy who sent it?"
"That's just it. There's no name either. See, it lists the complex name and address, but no person."
The manager looked at the package more closely. "Oh, this is the same package a guy asked me about the other day. I'll tell you the same thing. I can't give you any information about the person who sent it. You have to have, like, a court order or something. Unless you're the police? That guy wasn't the police."
Nicked eyed the clerk, trying to figure out another approach. The younger man fidgeted under Nick's gaze. Nick smiled to relax him.
"I totally understand. Rick mentioned that you said that, but I didn't think it'd hurt to try myself. I guess I can see where he works. I really need to ask the guy some questions."
The manager nodded. "That makes more sense. You can run over there. It's just that I can't say anything. Privacy, you know. I wouldn't feel right."
The guy must work nearby. Doing what? A delivery business?
"Okay, just one more question, not about him, but just for you. Of all the packages you get through here. How'd you remember this one?"
"I asked him what it was because normally, he's stumbling in here with big boxes. I mean, he's not here that often, only when they mi
ss the UPS guy who stops at their place during the day. People want their computers back, you know? So, he's got to get them out ASAP. Little envelope like that seemed weird. He wouldn't tell me. Seemed embarrassed or something. I don't know. Look, I gotta lock up, so anything else?"
"Nope. Sorry. Thanks for your time."
Nick shook the manager's hand and left, tossing what he'd learned from the clerk with what Rick told him. The guy had to ship back people's computers and used a service vehicle. There had to be a PC repair shop or something like that nearby. Nick did a map search on his phone for PC repair. Speedy Tech hardware repair services was less than a quarter of a mile away. That could be the small company with only eight employees.
Nick dialed the number, but it was seven o'clock, so the call went to voicemail. Tomorrow, he thought, he'd call again and also talk to Vivienne. He might convince her to give the investigator more information.
His stomach twisted. He couldn't take much more intrigue. Spying for Vivienne. Spying for Tom and the firm. The lying gnawed at him. At least fighting blackmail qualified as a good deed. He couldn't say as much about what he'd done to Micky. As he drove back to Dallas, Nick wondered what he could do to make it right.
Chapter Twenty-One
Another family dinner wasn't exactly what Micky needed in the midst of a long and exhausting week at work, but she knew it was incredibly important to her brother. Tonight, Pete planned to propose to Clarissa, and he wanted his family there to support him. Clarissa's parents arrived in town for a long weekend and to meet his mother, which is why he'd picked tonight for the proposal. Their father had an emergency and missed his flight. He was "trying" to rebook. Pretty typical.
Micky escaped the elevator right at 5:00 p.m. to head out when she got a text from Nick asking how her day was going. Rather than just text back, she called him when she got in her car.