Never taking his eyes off her, he pulled his belt off. He walked around the desk to stand next to her.
She gave an uncomfortable sounding laugh as she turned to face him. “Are you going to spank me?”
“Well, you’d definitely deserve it. Do you want me to?”
Her focus zeroed in on his face once more.
Chance gave her a lopsided grin. “You’re a smart woman, Love. You tell me—what do you think you’re going to have to do to make this up to me?”
Her chest rose and fell a bit more rapidly. He should probably watch it or else she really would try poisoning next. Still, he couldn’t resist having a little fun with her.
Silently, she stared up at him.
“Here’s a hint,” he whispered as he leaned down to get close to her face. “It might require getting on your knees.”
Her face lost all traces of color, and those pretty lips of hers moved though no sound escaped them. After only the briefest moment of flailing, she put one hand on her hip and poked him in the chest with her finger. “I spill coffee on you—”
Chance smirked. “Accidentally.”
“And you have the audacity to ask me for a blow job to,” she made air quotes with her fingers, “‘make it up’ to you? I’ll sue you for sexual harassment, you son of a bitch.” She shook her head. “No, I’m going to kick your ass, and then I’ll sue you for harassment.”
She stepped back just a bit, balled up her fist, and swung for his face with all her might.
Only his quick reflexes saved him from a broken nose. His own hand shot up to catch hers mid-swing. This woman was definitely, undeniably dangerous—and yeah, a little scary. He could admit it. To himself.
“You’re a psycho, you know that?”
“Let me go,” she said through clenched teeth.
“Are you going to break my face?”
“I’m damn well gonna try.”
He couldn’t help it, he chuckled. “I wasn’t asking you for a blow job, you nut.”
She frowned. “What?”
“Yeah, so you’re at about a ten right now. I’m gonna need you to dial back the bitchy to somewhere around two.” He squinted as he looked at her. “Who are we kidding? You probably couldn’t go less than five without it stopping your heart.”
The corner of her mouth rose just a tad. She yanked her arm from his grasp. “If you weren’t talking about...that, then what were you talking about?”
He lifted his eyebrows. “Uh, my clothes.”
“Your—”
“I need clean clothes now, Einstein.”
She crossed her arms. “What was all that about getting on my knees?”
“It was a figure of speech.”
“Right.”
He grabbed a set of keys off the desk. “I have some extra clothes in the back of my car. Of course, they’re probably wrinkled, and since you don’t strike me as the ironing type, you can take them to wardrobe.” He tossed the keys to her and she caught them.
“But,” he continued, “they’re probably awfully busy right about now, which means you may have to beg them to fit you in.” Chance stifled the urge to laugh at her horrified expression. “Beg...on your knees...figure of speech.”
She sneered at him before whirling around and stomping toward the door.
“Oh, and could you make it snappy, Love? I have somewhere to be before my meeting at one.”
She slammed the door behind her.
Chance’s shoulders shook with laughter. That is, until he realized just how appealing the thought of her being on her knees really was. He groaned.
This woman was major trouble in every possible way.
Chapter 6
The little bar, Mister’s, drew quite the crowd after five p.m. It was the happy hour hangout spot for the KMLP crew because it was so close to the station. And Lord knew Stephanie needed booze more than she ever had before. Her day had started badly, and had gone downhill from there. This was, sadly, her life. She’d grumbled to Amber all the way from the station, to the car, through the ride over, and she still hadn’t vented enough.
“That bastard sends me out to his brand new Jag to fetch him some clean clothes. He wanted to look presentable when he snuck away to bone one of his playthings. Can you believe that? What am I, his fucking maid?”
Amber signaled the bartender. “Well, you did pour hot coffee all over him.”
“It was an accident. I tripped.”
She laughed. “You’re talking to someone who’s known you far too long to believe that.”
Stephanie sighed. “It was.” At Amber’s look of disbelief, she continued. “I mean, yeah, I’d planned on spilling some on him, but not the whole damn cup! The toe of my high heel—” She threw her hands up. “Forget it.” Her lust for revenge had only increased when she’d walked in, just in time to hear him on the phone. So this Donna was a ‘Jen’. Nice. Poor woman probably had no idea the man was busy flirting with every female within a ten-mile radius. Men—ugh.
The bartender sauntered over.
“Just ginger ale for me, thanks,” Amber said.
He turned to Stephanie.
“Tequila.”
He nodded. “A ginger ale and a shot of tequila, coming right up.” He turned to go.
“Hold it,” Stephanie said.
He turned back to her.
“Who said anything about a shot? I need a glass. You know, a regular glass? Yeah, thanks.”
His eyebrows shot up. “Okay,” he said slowly. After getting their drinks, they paid the tab, and made their way to a corner booth.
Stephanie gulped down some of her drink.
“Easy there, tigress,” Amber said. “You’re going to be hammered in no time.”
“From your lips to God’s ears,” she muttered. “Besides, you’re the one who can’t handle anything stronger than a wine cooler.”
“I just hope Carly doesn’t make an appearance tonight, or I fear her implants may end up next to the karaoke machine. You’ve got a bad temper on a good day, but you’re kind of a mean drunk.”
Stephanie thought about that for a few seconds before nodding. “I am.” She hadn’t told her friend about Carly’s plan to grab the morning co-anchor position from her. Amber would only worry when she need not. It would be a cold day in hell before Stephanie let that happen. She just had to figure out a way to stop it. “That tramp deserves a beat down, though.”
“Yeah,” Amber said, frowning. “She was totally out of line for bringing up that crap with Clay.”
“Forget that. She’s out of line for way more important reasons.”
“Like what?” Amber sipped her ginger ale as she looked at Stephanie.
“Well, uh, you know...rubbing her shiny new position as Director in my face and making disgustingly obvious plays for Valentine.” Stephanie rolled her eyes as she took another, smaller, drink.
“Why does that bother you?”
“Seriously? That...thing takes the job that should have been mine, and I shouldn’t be bothered?” Valentine was in for it. Giving her promotion to someone else had been a declaration of war. Had that asshole forgotten that Stephanie was in a position to do him great harm?
As Executive Assistant, she could easily screw things up on the sly and have all the blame squarely aimed his way. Yep. That was sounding better by the minute.
Amber shook her head. “No, why does it bother you that she’s going after Mr. Valentine?”
“She’s just always—I mean, it doesn’t bother—” She frowned. “The woman’s using sex to get what she wants, as usual. And, as usual, it’s working. Normally, I wouldn’t care, but now she’s fucking with my livelihood and I won’t just let that slide.”
Amber considered that. “Mm, true.”
Stephanie filled her in on her plans to get the GM spot in order to get Kenny back. All Amber could say after she was finished was, “Could work.”
They sat there in comfortable silence as they continued to drink and peopl
e watch. A few minutes later, Amber smiled. “At least now we can put all this craziness behind us and talk about something good.”
Stephanie stopped with her now nearly empty glass halfway to her lips. “And then she has the nerve to bring up how I’m always alone at the stupid Valentine’s Day thing.”
“Guess not,” Amber mumbled before taking another sip of ginger ale.
The tequila was indeed strong. Stephanie was already speaking a little louder than usual. “Well, you know what, bitch? I wouldn’t have to be alone if your skanky friend hadn’t banged my man.”
The couple at the table next to them looked their way.
“Steph, please,” Amber said, sliding down a bit lower on her side of their booth.
“She doesn’t think I can get a date to the party?” She snorted. “Please. I can get a man. I can get a man like—” She snapped her fingers. “That.”
“You’re gorgeous, of course you can,” Amber said. “Now can you please lower your voice?”
Stephanie ignored her. “And I will get one—an amazing one. He’ll blow hers away, right out of the–” She hiccupped. “Water.”
Amber rolled her lips in and nodded. “Water might be a good idea.”
She widened her eyes, and reached over the table to clasp Amber’s hand. “Help me.”
“Uh...”
“Help me find a date for the ball.”
“The ball?” Amber laughed. “You are so drunk.”
“Amber,” Stephanie snapped.
She stopped laughing and took a deep breath. “Okay, um, how about that guy you met a few months ago when we were at that conference in Tulsa? He was cute, right? You had a boyfriend at the time, though, and now you don’t.”
Stephanie rubbed her temples. “Why am I not drunk enough for that to make sense?”
“What’s wrong with my idea?”
“I don’t know how to find that guy,” Stephanie cried. “I don’t even know his name.”
“Relax. It’ll work out.”
She gave her an incredulous look. “Because things so often do for me, right?”
Amber waved the question away as she looked around the room. She turned back to Stephanie with excitement in her eyes.
Stephanie groaned. “What now?”
“Let’s leave it to fate.”
“I don’t even know what that means.” She polished off the rest of the tequila.
“The next available guy through those doors,” Amber hitched her thumb in the direction of the entrance, “is your date to the...ball.” She giggled.
Stephanie sat back. “No way. My luck is shit. I’d end up with some stinky octogenarian or something.”
Amber shrugged. “You never used to back down from a dare,” she said lightly.
“I still don’t. This wasn’t a dare, this was—” Too late she realized her mistake.
“Then let’s make it official. I dare you to hook up with the next available guy through those doors and make him your date to the party.” She gave her a sweet smile.
“You little—” Stephanie rolled her eyes. “Fine. I’ll accept your challenge, but if I end up with a total loser, I will be making an appointment to kick your ass.”
“I love you, Stephie Baby.”
“Just shut up.”
Amber laughed and they turned to look at the door at the same time.
Never one to back down from a dare, Stephanie was seriously rethinking this one. She sent silent prayers to God, and whoever else was up there.
Please, don’t stick me with a dud.
“Um...oh my.” Amber’s gaze was riveted to the man who had just entered Mister’s.
Short and very round, he wore thick, horn-rimmed glasses on his cherubic face and sported a comb-over of thinning, light brown hair. The guy looked to be in his mid to late fifties.
Stephanie curled her lip as she stared at him. “Oh, hell no.”
“Are you acknowledging your loss of this dare?”
She took a deep breath as she stood up. “I don’t lose dares.”
Smiling, Amber put her hands up. “Steph, you don’t have to prove anything. I know you’re crazy enough to do it.”
Stephanie squared her shoulders and made her way across the bar to the man. God obviously did not like her much or else she would have been praying for the man not to be available. That was now her only out.
She sidled up to him as he stood at the bar. “Excuse me,” she said, trying her best to keep her tequila down.
He looked over at her and smiled. “Hi.”
“Hey.” She gave him an up nod. “I’m Stephanie.”
“Oliver.” He eyed her body appreciatively before meeting her eyes again.
“Are you seeing anyone, Oliver?” She felt like she was about to hurl.
Oliver’s eyes grew as large as they could behind the thick lenses that made them appear unnaturally small. “Me?”
“Yeah, dating anyone?” She held her breath out of pure anxiety.
“Nope.”
Of course you aren’t. She forced a shaky smile. “No?”
Oliver shook his head. “Been married twenty-seven years. The missus would kill me if I started dating.” He laughed.
Stephanie released her pent-up breath. The relief was so overwhelming, she began laughing too. “Well,” she said, giving him a quick slap on the back, “congrats on making it work all these years.”
She hightailed it back to the booth and slid in.
Amber leaned forward. “Well? Is that pumpkin taking you to the ball?”
“You’re hilarious.” She stared at the door again. “And no, he’s married.” She glanced Amber’s way.
“Thank God,” they both said, returning their attention to the door.
“Next guy ought to do it.”
“We’ll see,” Stephanie mumbled. The door slowly opened and her heartbeat accelerated. It was like roulette. Would she land on red or black, odd or even? She wasn’t even sure what would be best in this situation.
She didn’t know anything about roulette, actually, but it didn’t really matter because, Lord, he was coming through the door. And, suddenly, there he stood.
“Why didn’t I think of that?” Amber asked softly.
Stephanie’s mouth dropped open. Oh no, no, no. A thousand times, no. He was a chauvinist asshole of a man-whore. He was a schmuck. He was also...her boss.
Grinning from ear to ear, Amber turned to her. “Guess this is what happens when you leave things to Chance.”
“One more joke out of you and I swear to God...” Stephanie shook her fist in front of Amber’s face.
Amber clasped her hands together and laughed. “This is delicious. I mean, really, it’ll probably clog your arteries, it’s so yummy.”
Stephanie’s gaze locked in on Chance’s tall, muscular form as he walked to stand in front of the bar. Suddenly, she knew what else would be delicious—
Wiping that smug look off Carly’s face when she found out Chance would be going to the party with none other than her nemesis.
Narrowing her eyes, she studied him from across the room. Even better—sex seemed to help Carly climb a ladder or two. Did Stephanie dare?
She told a skeptical Amber about the devious little plan forming in her mind. He’d only be around for a short time. She could easily ride his bossy ass all the way to the top before he left. If only she could hop aboard the unethical train just long enough...
But, really, who was she kidding?
The thought that most thrilled her was riding him, period.
Chapter 7
“Hey,” a bright, perky voice called from behind.
Chance turned to see Amber making her way over. “Hi.”
She gazed up at him and tilted her head. “How are you doing?”
He drew his eyebrows together. “Uh...”
“You know,” she continued, “this is going to sound a little weird, but could you do me a huge favor?”
Despite himself, his curiosity
was piqued. “What kind of favor?”
“I know it’s a bit presumptuous, asking your boss for a favor, but...”
“What is it?”
“It’s just a tiny one, really. I’m here with a friend, but I have to run. It’s sort of an emergency. Anyway, she’s not ready to go right now. Could you give her a ride home when you’re ready to leave?”
Chance sighed as he scanned the room. “Who’s your friend?”
Amber gave him a bright smile before resting her eyes firmly on his dress shirt. “You know, that is a really nice color on you. The blue really makes your eyes pop.”
Folding his arms, he waited for an answer.
She took a deep breath. “It’s, uh, Stephanie.” She pointed over her own shoulder. “She’s back there. Anyway, great color.”
Chance chuckled. “Stephanie...Love?”
Amber leaned to the side, feigning interest in the drink selection behind the bar. “They make some of the best Cosmopolitans here.”
“No offense, but I don’t want to spend one second more than I have to with that woman.”
Frowning, she returned her attention to his face. “Why?”
He shot her a disbelieving look. “Why?”
“Okay,” she said, holding her hands up in surrender, “I know she can be a bit abrasive, a bit...grouchy.”
“A bit doesn’t even begin to cover it. The woman has homicidal urges, I’m sure of it.”
“Not that many, I swear.”
Chance smiled. “Still, no. I’m sorry.”
Her face fell and her dark brown eyes seemed to become even darker.
He almost felt bad for her. Not bad enough to put his life on the line, though, and that’s exactly what he did anytime he was around that little demon pal of hers. He couldn’t even believe Love would want him to take her home. “Wait...does she even know you’re asking me to do this?”
Amber nodded enthusiastically. “She doesn’t mind.”
“Somehow I find that hard to believe,” he muttered. Love wanted him to take her home. Right. He almost smirked at the thought when another hit him like a ton of bricks—he’d wanted to take her home all right, and this opportunity had fallen right into his lap. Of course, in his fevered fantasies, he hadn’t exactly dropped her off at her door. And if she was willing, something he still didn’t quite believe, why wouldn’t he be?
Chance on Love Page 4