Resisting Cupid

by Chanta Rand

  “This is kind of short notice,” she said, “but I have a previous engagement this weekend.”

  “Oh? How insensitive of me.” He’d sprung the news on his ‘volunteers’ without regard to their personal agendas. He was curious about Kendra’s plans. “Childcare issues?”

  She shook the honey-colored curls that hung past her shoulders. “No. I don’t have kids.”

  Yes, he knew that. He was just being nosey. He snapped his fingers. “Let me guess. You have a boyfriend waiting for you? Am I interrupting a hot date?”

  She scoffed. “Yeah right!”

  The moment the words left her mouth, she seemed mortified. Her eyes grew wide and she shifted uncomfortably on one foot. He’d gotten a brief glimpse into her personal life, but then just as quickly, she became all business again. Most women liked to gossip about themselves, but Kendra obviously wasn’t the type to kiss and tell–especially with her boss.

  “It’s just that I don’t think I’m the best person for this project.”

  Resisting the urge to embrace her with a reassuring hug, he shoved his hands into his trouser pockets. “Of course you are. I don’t think I need to stress how volatile things are right now. I know you want to do everything in your power to show Alfonse you’re committed to helping this agency succeed. You are still dedicated aren’t you?”

  “No. That’s not it. It’s just…just…” She shrugged. “I mean seriously, do you believe in all this Valentine’s Day stuff?”

  He smiled. “Sure. Why not?”

  She folded her arms over her ample bosom. He wondered how those voluptuous breasts would feel in his hands. Calm yourself, fool! There’s a thin line between admiration and perversion.

  “It’s the quintessential guilt holiday,” she told him. “And it’s the same boring trio of gifts: candy, flowers, and jewelry.”

  “You’re the first woman I ever met who had a problem with receiving jewelry.”

  “It’s not the jewelry. It’s all the retail pressure that comes with it.”

  “I’m guessing you never had a valentine before?”

  Her pretty mouth dropped open. “I think that’s getting a little personal, Mark.”

  He chuckled. He could always count on Kendra to speak her mind. That was one reason why he hadn’t made a move on her before–her tongue was sharp enough to cut a grown man into pieces! “You’re right,” he told her. “Forgive me.” He pushed on, not giving her a chance to respond. “I could use someone like you to help me create a list of sponsors. It’s good that your name was pulled.”

  “Yeah,” she pointed to the box with the folded scraps of red paper containing the names. “I never win anything. Maybe I should have you around next time I play Blackjack in Vegas.”

  He laughed. “That would be my pleasure. You know what they say: What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas.”

  Remnants of a grin tugged at her upper lip, but she denied him the pleasure of a full smile. He mentally berated himself. What was wrong with him? He hadn’t crossed the line, but he’d gotten damn close. “Okay then,” he ended the conversation. “I’ll see you back here at five o’clock. This is going to be so exciting. You’ll see.”

  “Can’t wait.”

  He knew he should resume his work, but he couldn’t help watching the curve of her backside as she walked out of his office. Seeing the usually confident Kendra Michaels out of her element was endearing, in a sexy way. She was showing her vulnerability.

  The moment Kendra left, Vanshi walked into his office. “I’m headed to lunch. Want me to pick up anything for you?”

  “No, but you can drop this in the industrial-sized shredder on your way out.”

  When she took the box of names from him, one of the folded strips fell on the floor. She picked it up and frowned. “Hey, this one’s blank.”

  He smiled. “Yep. They’re all blank.”

  Her eyebrows pole-vaulted in surprise. She sorted through the strips, looking at each individual piece. “Hold on a sec. What about the names you called earlier?”

  “I read imaginary names. I simply picked the staff members who I thought would do a good job on this project and I called their names.”

  She gasped. “You sneaky little devil. Remind me never to get on your bad side.”

  Mark chuckled, recalling the words he’d said to Kendra. “Vanshi, I don’t think I need to tell you to treat this like you were in Vegas.”

  She nodded. “What happens in this office stays in this office.”

  “Exactly.”

  Chapter 3

  Hours later, Kendra sat in the cozy conference room adjacent to Mark’s office. She’d always liked this room. The over-stuffed couches and coffee tables made it seem more like a living room than a work area. Her eyes flitted over the Tiffany-style lamps and potted plants. In the corner sat an air hockey table. Totally out of place with the décor, it was conducive for the creative process. She knew everyone in the group. Marge from Accounting, Caleb and Ginger from Marketing, Lonnie from Customer Service, Banta from Human Resources, and herself from Vendor Relations.

  She’d already resigned herself to the fact that she was not getting a spa day tomorrow. Tatum was going without her–and she’d be here working. Kendra guessed she shouldn’t complain. Her job allowed her to travel to exotic places. She’d taken a trip to Madrid and a cruise to the Netherlands in the past year. Giving up one spa day wouldn’t kill her.

  “Okay people, let’s get started.” Mark stood and addressed the group. He looked calm and in control with the sleeves of his white shirt rolled up. His tie was gone. Crisp black hairs peeped through his open collar. Hmm. So he wasn’t bare-chested. Nice to know.

  What do you mean nice?

  You are not supposed to be thinking about his chest hair!

  Mark pointed to a table piled high with containers wrapped in tin foil. “Vanshi was gracious enough to have dinner catered for us. We’ll be here brainstorming for a few hours. Feel free to dig in whenever you get hungry.”

  Murmurs of approval rippled through the group as they meandered to the table set up with potato salad, baked beans, and barbequed brisket and chicken. Kendra could say one thing for Mark Sullivan: he did things with flair. Filling bellies was a way to make sure nobody stayed pissed off at him for working late on a Friday night.

  The team worked late through the night. Despite her personal feelings about Valentine’s Day, Kendra gave her usual one hundred and ten percent to the project. She came up with most of the ideas for sponsors to be used in the Cupid’s Chance promotion. She’d even suggested a new name, Escape with Cupid, which was eagerly adopted by the group. She had to admit, the promotion was shaping up–even for a cynic like her. By ten p.m., she and Mark were the only ones still working. She normally took the dart train to work, but of course, it didn’t run this late. She was in the middle of calling a local cab company when Mark interrupted. “You don’t need to call a cab,” he said. “I’ve got my car. I can take you home.”

  Despite working for twelve hours straight, Mark still looked and smelled good. The faint scent of his rugged cologne conjured up images of a self-assured man who knew how to handle himself. Kendra had a sudden urge to pull him next to her and bury her nose into the open collar of his shirt. She shook her head. She was trippin’. She wasn’t used to being in such close proximity to him. She could only imagine what it would feel like to be sequestered in his car with him. “I don’t want to inconvenience you,” she protested.

  He swatted the air. “It would be my pleasure. On the way, we can stop and check out a vendor.”

  Kendra eyed him suspiciously. “What vendor is open at this time of the night?”

  “You’ll see.”

  ********

  Downtown Houston had a busy nightlife on weekends. Most clubs stayed open until two a.m., and those that closed earlier, usually offered some type of dinner. Francesca’s was a late night dinner club with a bar offering the finest top shelf liquor and its signature crab cake
s.

  Mark nursed his chilled glass of Merlot. “You should try this. It’s great.”

  Kendra sat beside him at the bar, her long legs dangling from the barstool. “No thanks. I prefer sweet, white wine. “She sipped the Moscato she’d ordered. “I can see why you like this place,” she mused. “It has great ambiance.”

  He nodded. “I spoke with the owner earlier today, and he’s convinced Francesca’s would be a perfect sponsor for Escape with Cupid. They have live entertainment on Thursday nights. We could include a local getaway in the package offering dinner and drinks.”

  She smiled. “As usual, you have everything planned down to the smallest detail.”

  Not everything. No matter how much he planned, he hadn’t been able to get this close to Kendra in the three years he’d known her. He’d convinced her to ride to the bar in his car and he offered to drop her at her condo afterward. She looked good sitting on the smooth, peanut butter leather of his Mercedes. Each time he shifted gears on the stick shift, he had to fight the urge to stretch his fingers over to the passenger seat and stroke the sexy knee that peeped beneath her skirt. “So, tell me about your Valentine’s Day hang-up. Why do you hate it?” he asked.

  She shrugged. The light from the overhead chandelier cast prisms on her silken blouse. “I don’t hate it. But I do believe it makes single women feel bad. Every year, for practically a month leading up to February fourteenth, they’re bombarded with these images of couples celebrating. It makes them feel inadequate because they have no man.”

  “Do you feel inadequate?”

  “No. But I have a lot of self-confidence.”

  “I can see why.” She glanced sideways at him, a smirk hovering near her full lips. He clarified. “What I meant was you’re smart and you take care of business. You’re the best at what you do. And you look good doing it.”

  “Coming from a man who’s always dressed to the nines, I’ll take that as a compliment.”

  He grinned. “So, you’ve been sneaking peeks at my wardrobe, huh?”

  When she laughed, it was contagious and he grinned even harder. His ego was buoyed by the fact that she’d been checking him out.

  “Just because I don’t believe in Valentine’s Day doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate a sharp-dressed man,” she said.

  He watched her drain her wine glass. The way her lips cradled the glass was erotic. He wondered what else those lips could do. The bartender, a busty blonde, refreshed Kendra’s drink without being told. “I think you’re being too hard on this holiday, Kendra. It’s not about guilt. Or suckering people into buying something. It’s about the thought that went into the gift. Valentine’s Day is merely a physical way for people to manifest their feelings for each other.”

  She sipped her fresh glass of wine. “That was so smooth how you broke that down.”

  He chuckled. “It’s easy to be smooth when you’re telling the truth.”

  “Um hmm. Okay, your turn. Tell me about you, Mark Sullivan. Why are you so into this holiday? Just using it to pick up chicks?”

  He swallowed a mouthful of Merlot. “I believe in romance.”

  Kendra harrumphed.

  “You cannot be that cynical,” he declared.

  She pursed her lips. “You don’t know me. Trust me when I say I’m jaded.”

  He dragged his eyes from her glossed lips to her hazel eyes. Up close, he could see they were a mixture of green and tan, with flecks of chocolate thrown in. Beautiful. “I’m willing to bet I know a lot more about you than you think.”

  “I wouldn’t be so cocky if I were you.”

  Mark signaled the bartender. “Two shot glasses and a bottle of Grey Goose, please.” He turned to Kendra. “You ask me a question. If I give the right answer, you’ll take a shot. If I’m wrong, I’ll take a shot.”

  He saw the flame of challenge flickering in her eyes. “Okay. You’re on!”

  He filled their shot glasses with the top shelf vodka. To the novice drinker, this clear liquor was deceptively pure tasting. Distilled so fine it tasted like water, this vodka would have you flat on your ass if you weren’t careful. “Question. Number. One,” he prompted, slowly drawing the words out and building anticipation.

  Kendra playfully rolled her eyes at his dramatics. “Question number one: what is my favorite color?”

  “Black.”

  Her mouth dropped open. “How did you…?”

  “Easy. It’s the only color you ever wear.”

  She smirked. “I see I’m not the only one who’s been peepin’ somebody’s wardrobe.”

  He laughed. “Drink up, woman.”

  She swallowed the shot in one gulp. A look of surprise crossed her pretty features. “Tastes like water!”

  “Yeah right. Ozarka on steroids.”

  She wagged a finger in his direction. “You got lucky that time. This time I’ve got a harder question. What makes me laugh?”

  “Ooh,” he pretended to think about it. “I rarely see you laugh, so my first inclination would be to say nothing makes you laugh.”

  “Hey!”

  He squeezed her hand as it sat atop the bar countertop. “Just kidding.”

  Their eyes met and he saw the spark of interest in her irises. Had he imagined it? He’d like nothing more than to test the theory, but he had to tread lightly with Kendra. If he misread the signals, he’d end up looking like a jackass.

  “Why are you looking at me like that?” she asked.

  “I’m appreciating your beauty. You’re like a fine painting in a museum. I can’t take my eyes off you.”

  She boldly gazed back, not bothering to hide the desire in her eyes. Yes, he was right. She was feeling it too! “I’m waiting,” she breathlessly entreated.

  “And I’m ready and willing,” he answered.

  Suddenly, she cracked a smile. “I’m still waiting for you to answer my question, Mark. What makes me laugh?”

  “Oh! Sorry, I got the feeling we were talking about something else.” He gathered his wits about him. He’d only had one glass of wine, but he was drunk on the euphoria of sharing his evening with Kendra. Every time he looked at her, his body temperature rose a degree. Another twenty minutes with her and he’d be running a fever. Even now, the muscle between his legs stirred thinking about what he wanted to do to her luscious body. “I believe I can show you better than I can tell you what makes you laugh.”

  He leaned over and tickled her where her blouse was neatly tucked into the belted waistband of her skirt.

  She burst into a fit of giggles, slapping his hands in the process. “Stop!” she pled. “I’m ticklish.” She doubled over with laughter, catching the attention of a few men who threw envious stares his way.

  Mark grinned. “That’ll teach you to doubt me again.”

  Kendra’s eyes were bright from laughing too hard. Her caramel cheeks had taken on a rosy glow. “I’m impressed with your tactics, mister. That was low down, but creative.”

  He pointed toward the second shot glass and frowned.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked.

  He shook his head as if perplexed. “That shot glass is full when it should be empty.”

  She playfully punched him. “Alright, I can take a hint!” She drained the shot in the same manner as she’d swallowed the first.

  “Still taste like water?” Mark taunted.

  “You’ll know in a minute. This next question is one you can’t possibly know the answer to.”

  He cracked his knuckles and jerked his head from side to side, mimicking the movements of one of his favorite heavy-weight boxers. “Hit me with your best shot.”

  “What do I do on Valentine’s Day each year?”

  She was right: he didn’t know the answer. So, he said the first thing that came to mind. “You sit around wishing you had a special someone to share it with.”

  “Wrong!” she filled a shot glass with a flourish, spilling a few drops on the bar. “My best friend, Tatum and I actually have an anti-Valenti
ne Day’s party. We celebrate our singleness. I have commitment issues,” she added.

  He would have never guessed that about Kendra. She looked like the type of woman who had men falling at her feet. She’d already told him she was jaded. Was he biting off more than he could chew by pursuing her? He tossed the contents of his shot glass to the back of his throat. The smooth liquor felt good sliding down his throat. “Now, I get to ask you the questions,” he said.

  “First I need to visit the little girl’s room.” She stood and teetered on her high heels.

  “Dang, woman, I’m going to have to make yours half-shots from now on.” When he reached out to steady her, she fell backwards into his lap. His body reacted instantly.

  She wiggled her ass against his semi-hard erection. “Um,” she teased. “Somebody is happy to see me.”

  She tossed her springy curls over her shoulder and flirted with him by batting her long lashes. The gesture was too tempting–and so were the full lines of her mouth. Without thinking, he leaned in and plied her soft lips open, pushing his tongue inside the warm wetness. Her mouth melted against his. Their tongues wrapped seductively around each other, performing an intimate dance that sent an electric charge through his veins straight to his dick. He was stunned by the force of their kiss. He eagerly suckled and nibbled her lips, starting with the corners and moving toward the middle, where he gently pulled on her bottom lip. Kendra’s arms linked behind his neck and pulled him closer to her.

  Somewhere in the recesses of his mind, he heard the sounds of people talking and glasses clinking. He barely registered the fact that he and Kendra were giving each other tonsillectomies in a public bar. It was only when he heard a loud throat clearing that he reluctantly broke the contact. “Come back to my place,” he rasped in her ear.

  She pulled back and eyed him suspiciously. “How do I know you’re not some crazy serial killer? You could chop me up into little pieces and store me in your freezer.”

  “Baby, I can think of many more interesting things I’d like to do to your body—and chopping it into little pieces is not on the list.”