Closing the Deal

by Marie Harte

  Closing the Deal

  A Wicked Warrens story

  When stubborn meets sexy, love is up for grabs...but one of them is playing for keeps.

  Derrick Warren has lusted after Sydney Fields ever since he first spotted her. All he has to do is let the old Warren magic do its thing...until an ex with an axe to grind shows up. To his utter shock, he realizes he’s going to have to work to win her over.

  Thanks to her mother’s bad example, Sydney is determined to never need a man. Just when she’s moved Derrick to her “loser” column, though, she’s tricked into giving him another chance. To her surprise, he not only satisfies her deepest desires, she finds herself actually craving his company.

  But when she realizes they’re making love, not just having sex, her old instincts kick in. Because she’s starting to like the man, not just his body. And that, more than anything, scares the hell out of her...

  WICKED WARRENS

  ENJOYING THE SHOW

  CLOSING THE DEAL

  RAISING THE BAR

  MAKING THE GRADE

  BENDING THE RULES

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and plot points stem from the writer’s imagination. They are fictitious and not to be interpreted as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locations or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  ISBN-13: 978-1642920055

  Closing the Deal

  Copyright © May 2018, 2011 by Marie Harte

  No Box Books

  Cover by Sweet ‘N Spicy Designs

  All Rights Are Reserved. None of this book may be reproduced or used in any manner without express written permission from the author, except in the case of brief quotations used for reviews or promotion.

  http://marieharte.com

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  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  An Excerpt from Raising the Bar, the third in the Wicked Warrens series

  About the Author

  Chapter One

  “Don’t hang up.”

  “I’m sorry. What?” Sydney Fields fiddled with her cell phone and cast a worried glance at the doorway. Her client was due to show up at any minute. “I’m working right now, so you can just—”

  “Damn it, don’t hang up. I’m trying to apologize!”

  “Don’t worry about it. As far as I’m concerned, it’s done. So if you could just—”

  “I didn’t agree with Brittney. I had no idea what the hell she was even talking about. I wasn’t listening. Christ, I broke up with her six months ago. I just wanted to get her off my ass and away from our table before you came back from the bathroom. But she wouldn’t leave. Woman was clinging to me like a freakin’ vine.”

  Sydney forced herself to keep her cool. She could handle Derrick Warren. She’d been handling him for three months now. Three long months spent talking, flirting and laughing over the phone with the man of her stupid dreams. She’d seen him once or twice, but not for longer than it took to say hello or goodbye. He was so handsome, and he’d been so charming. Sydney, a woman who didn’t do relationships, had considered making an exception for him. Too bad he’d turned into a complete ass on their first—and last—date.

  Gritting her teeth, she tried again. “I will not have this discussion with you.” I’m a mature and level-headed adult. My temper has nothing to do with my hair color.

  Brian Goode, her client, suddenly appeared in the doorway. Just her luck.

  She held up a hand. “I’ll be right with you.”

  “Who the hell is that?”

  As if he had the right to ask her anything. Sydney took a breath, searching for calm, and tried again. “I’m working right now.”

  Her client took a step back, giving her privacy to finish the call she shouldn’t have answered in the first place.

  “Working on my last goddamn nerve,” Derrick muttered. “Come on, Sydney. You’re hot, smart and funny. We both know you could kick Brittney’s ass if you really wanted to. Hell, it took us three months just to get to dinner. At least gimme a chance to make things right.”

  All she heard was last goddamn nerve and her infamous temper got the better of her. She turned in her chair, away from the doorway, and whispered harshly, “I have a life that doesn’t include you, Derrick Warren. Don’t call me again. My fragile ego and fat ass can’t take it.” She disconnected the call, muted her phone and shoved it in a drawer out of sight. Turning to the doorway, she saw her client standing there, his expression even. She couldn’t tell if he’d overheard her or not.

  Please tell me I used my indoor voice. If not, time for some damage control. “Mr. Goode, I apologize for the delay. I shouldn’t have picked up that call, but I thought it might have been an unlisted buyer who’s been trying to reach me.”

  “Call me Brian.” He sat in the chair across the desk and studied her for a moment, trying unsuccessfully to stifle a smile. “Fragile ego?”

  Sydney blushed. At least he hadn’t repeated the bit about her fat ass. “A bad date gone horribly wrong. Unfortunately, he won’t stop calling me.”

  “I can’t blame him. Men are suckers for an attractive redhead.” Brian smiled, and a dimple appeared at his cheek.

  Though Sydney wasn’t into blonds—or men at the moment—she could see making a future exception in his case...once she sold him a house. “You’re a charmer.” She smiled, enjoying the focus of an appreciative man. “Now I hate to change the subject, but you did tell me you were on a schedule.”

  “Unfortunately.” He sighed and checked his watch. “What have you got for me?”

  Sydney showed him pictures of several potential homes, high-end residences that her client could well afford. Single, wealthy and handsome. He had to have the crazy gene tucked away under that charm. No woman, or man, would let a guy who looked this good on paper stay single.

  After an hour spent answering questions about the market, exploring the option of buying property to build on versus a finished home, and miscellaneous questions on the city in general, Sydney wrapped up their meeting.

  “I can’t tell you how nice it is doing business with you,” Brian said as he stood, his papers in hand. “You’re very knowledgeable. You definitely live up to your reputation.”

  “Thanks, Brian.” She walked with him into the small but classy lobby she and her partner had decorated and nodded at the listings she’d handed him. “Let me know if any of those interest you and we’ll go out and take a look at them. In the meantime, I’ll keep an eye out for anything I think you’d like.”

  He smiled and took her hand in his. His touch felt warm and firm. Even his skin had a nice peachy glow.

  “I’m in good hands,” he murmured, slowly extracting his palm from hers.

  She fisted her hand and lowered it to her side, still unsure of the signals he seemed to be sending. “Ah, thanks?”

  He laughed and walked toward the door, saying over his shoulder, “I’ll call you later. Thanks, Sydney.” He stopped, turned and winked. “And for the record, there’s absolutely nothing wrong with your ass.”

  She watched him leave, not sure what to think. That she couldn’t ignore. He was interested, but he was also a client. Sydney never mixed business with pleasure.

  Considering the last man she’d been out with had let some bimbo all but call her a cow, Brian’s attention buoyed her self-esteem. Sydney didn�
��t have the best track record with men, but she’d never before had issue with her self-confidence. That she’d allowed herself to feel demeaned because she’d wanted so badly to impress Derrick Warren bothered her more than anything.

  She’d been born with a wealth of auburn hair that framed her face to perfection, according to several of her past boyfriends. Her blue eyes had been compared to sapphires and her skin to pearls. She had curves she showcased in stylish dresses and designer outfits, as well as jeans that accentuated her toned legs—courtesy of a strenuous workout routine she couldn’t afford to miss unless she wanted a fat ass.

  Thoughts of Derrick Warren made her see red. For that Neanderthal to let that plastic doll of a blonde insult her... Her temper rose, and she forced herself to stop thinking about him. So what if he was one of the most attractive men she’d ever seen, that her libido went into overdrive whenever she laid eyes on him and that her best friend would soon marry his brother? He was a jerk, a macho headcase who thought he could juggle two women at once.

  Screw Derrick Warren. Stalking back into her office, she unmuted her cell phone, conscious she couldn’t ignore her work just because of one man. She deleted the messages he continued to leave on her phone and set her ringer to identify his calls—what she should have done a week ago. The minute Loser by Beck, played, she’d know it was him.

  Satisfied by her clever, if less than mature, response, she returned to work. Houses sure as hell weren’t selling themselves these days.

  Derrick Warren stared at his phone in disbelief. “She won’t answer. The damn woman is ignoring me.”

  His brother shrugged. “I told you not to take her to Sundance. You knew Brittney and her friends hang there.”

  “Gimme a break, Gage. That place serves the best steaks in town. Besides, we’re all adults. How was I to know Brittney Adams would be there that night, or that she’d have a mental breakdown? She never acted like that when we were dating. Hell, she seemed fine when we ended things.”

  Gage snorted.

  “What?”

  “Women never act like that around you. They’re too busy falling at your feet.”

  “But that’s part of the Warren charm.” Derrick didn’t understand it. He and Brittney had had fun, nothing serious. She’d taken their breakup six months ago with calm acceptance, mostly. Sure she’d cried and tried to talk him out of it, then thrown a hissy fit when he failed to give into her demands. But a few days later when he’d run into her, she’d been peaches-and-cream nice. So why had she turned into a crying mess with a nasty streak last week? And just when he’d finally had the delectable Sydney Fields to himself.

  It had been three long-ass months of phone conversations and a few random meetings with Gage or Hailey—Gage’s fiancée and Sydney’s best friend—always present. Conflicting schedules had played havoc with their social lives, and then like magic, a free Saturday night had appeared on both their calendars. Time for Derrick to get Sydney Fields into his bed. And then Brittany and her rotten timing had fucked up everything.

  Gage shook his head. “You’re screwed. Sydney told Hailey all about it. She overheard it all.”

  Derrick tried to remember just what Brittney had said. Most of the night was a blur, except the part where Sydney had taken off after dumping his wine in his lap.

  Christ. What a mess.

  Gage continued, “Your ex wanted to know why you, of all people, had lowered yourself to date a bad dye-job with a fat ass and saggy tits. Then she asked if maybe Sydney was pregnant, because you’re the type to always do the right thing, which apparently made sense to her, because she hated to think you’d lowered your standards all that much. So is she?”

  He’d been so concerned Sydney might return from the restroom to see Brittney fawning all over him that he hadn’t paid much attention to her. And then her sudden tears had stunned him to immobility. “Is who what?”

  “Is Sydney in the family way? Should I tell Mom? You know how much she wants grandkids.”

  “You’re not funny, Gage.” Derrick stewed. “Shit. Brittney really said all that?”

  “Yep. Hailey told me. She heard it word for word from Sydney.” He paused and shook his head. “I can’t believe you were flirting with Brittney Adams of all people. Why the hell did you agree to a date with Sydney if you still have a thing for Brittney?”

  “Damn it, I don’t! I was yessing Brittney to death to get her the hell away from the table before she caused an even bigger scene.”

  Gage chuckled. “I hear Sydney did that all on her own.”

  “She threw her glass of wine in Brittney’s face, then dumped mine in my lap.” Derrick grimaced. Unfortunately, Sydney had stormed out of the place so fast he hadn’t had a chance to catch her before she’d left. Now she wouldn’t answer his calls. Hailey wasn’t talking to him either. God help him if his mother got wind of what had happened.

  “Dylan thinks you intentionally sabotaged yourself,” Gage said, kicking back in his chair.

  “What? You told Dylan?” His twin brother knew him pretty well, but when he used his psychiatric degree to overanalyze, he turned downright obnoxious.

  “Hell yes, I told him. Wine thrown in your lap by a hot chick at one of the most exclusive restaurants in town? Classic!”

  “Fuck you.”

  “Back at ya, bro, because you aren’t getting it from the hot redhead.” Gage snickered. “Dylan thinks Sydney threatens you on some level. So when Brittney screwed up your date, you took it in stride.”

  “Gage, I’ve been calling the woman all week. She won’t talk to me.”

  “Have you tried seeing her face to face?” Dylan asked from the open doorway.

  “Shit. Don’t you have patients to screw with? I have a business to run. And shut the door. You’re letting all the cold air in.” Warren Construction Company was his baby—well, his and Gage’s. Derrick designed the homes that Gage and their crew built. Their small trailer currently sat on the lot of the new complex he and Gage had commissioned.

  Dylan closed the door behind him. “Well, have you?”

  “Have I what?”

  Dylan sighed. “Have you seen her in person, Derrick?”

  “Not yet. Don’t look at me like that. Hell, the way she threw that wine, I’m sure a punch or two is next. I figure if I can get her to talk to me on the phone, she might be more receptive to a second date.”

  Both of his brothers regarded him with amusement.

  “This isn’t funny.”

  Dylan had the nerve to laugh. “It sure is. You haven’t had a woman turn you down since, well, never. Nice to know there’s one out there who’s immune.”

  “Bullshit. I’ve had plenty of women turn me down.”

  Gage shook his head. “You and Dylan never have a problem with the opposite sex.” He glanced at Dylan. “Or even the same sex. Which is it this week, Dylan? You doing dudes or chicks?”

  “I’m not doing anyone. Not that it’s any of your business, but I’m between partners at the moment. You know, it still amazes me Hailey puts up with you. You sure she said yes and not take your proposal and shove it up your ass?”

  Derrick snorted.

  “Say what you want, but I have a hot fiancée. Prince Charming over there can’t even get Sydney to return his calls.” Gage nodded at Derrick.

  Dylan shook his head, eyeing Derrick with pity. “Derrick, you’re giving us a bad name. The Warren twins have a reputation to uphold.”

  Derrick swore. “What the hell do I do? She won’t take my calls, and she sounded way too nice to someone in her office. No doubt some guy trying to charm his way into her pants.” Jealousy reared its head as he imagined all the men after her. He wished to hell he’d never seen Sydney Fields. He didn’t do jealousy, rage or frustration when dating. Sydney was tying him in knots.

  “You’re bothering her at work?” Dylan asked as he sat next to Gage.

  Derrick didn’t want to answer, wondering why today of all days his brothers seemed to have not
hing at all to do. “I’m not bothering her. I’m trying to open a channel of communication,” he said, quoting his mother’s favorite line.

  Dylan gaped. “You must be desperate if you’re asking Mom for advice. Did she sit you down on the couch?”

  “I’m not a patient of hers, asswipe. I’m her favorite son.” Derrick ignored Gage’s huff. The little snot. Just because he’d snagged a woman first, their mother thought he could do no wrong. Of course, it helped that Hailey had brains, beauty and a heart under that killer rack.

  “Favorite, my ass. She pities you. Gage is nothing more than a baby-maker. I’m the favorite.” Dylan preened, pulling at the cuffs on his designer shirt. “Culture, charm, good looks and a real occupation. What’s not to love?”

  Gage flipped him off.

  Derrick had come to the end of his rope. “You going to help me or not?”

  “I guess. My advice would be to surprise Sydney at home. Force her to listen to you.”

  “No, no, no,” Barbara Warren said from where she leaned in the doorway.

  The three of them jumped as if they’d been scalded. They needed to put a goddamn bell on the door.

  “Mom, when did you get here?” Derrick asked. The woman moved around like a friggin’ cat. And she had a way of looking at him that made him want to run in the other direction. Despite his thirty-six years, he felt all of five again.

  Barbara didn’t look pleased. “I had an interesting talk with Hailey and rescheduled my appointments for this morning. You, Derrick Christian Warren, are coming with me.”

  “Mom, I have a business to run. I can’t—”

  “With. Me.”

  His brothers watched with pity as he stood and dragged his feet forward.

  “I’ll handle the business, no problem,” Gage offered. “Go easy on him, Mom. He’s not thinking right.”

  “Yeah, wine in the lap will do that to a person.” Dylan nodded, looking sad.

  Derrick glared at him over his shoulder but knew better than to say anything. In addition to stealth, Barbara Warren had ears like a bat. He left with her without a word.