by Karen Booth
Sophie stepped out of the cubicle and tiptoed over to her office door to sneak a peek through the tiny gap between the door and the jamb.
Reginald rushed right over. “Oh, no you don’t.” He quickly closed the door, right in her face.
“Fine,” Mindy said, sounding impatient. “But will you at least call Jake Wheeler and listen to his pitch? The man is ridiculously persistent. He’s calling me twice a day.”
There it was—that name again. “I know. He sent me a fruit basket.”
“He’s got superdeep pockets, Sophie. And he sure speaks fondly of you. You’d think you two were exes the way he talks about you.”
Sophie leaned back against the wall, her vision narrowing just as her lips pinched together. “You know that’s not the case.”
“Oh, I know. I know the whole story. He’s the one who got away.”
Sophie shook her head. “He is not. He’s the snake who slithered away. And I hardly had him to begin with.” Just one unbelievably hot night of abandon.
“Regardless. Call him.”
“I’ll think about it.” Sophie already knew there was no way she would call Jake. There was a lot of wisdom in the adage about not clawing at old wounds. He’d hurt her. Badly. She would never, ever forgive him.
“Think harder. I’d like to cross him off my to-do list.”
Sophie stifled a snort. Jake Wheeler had spent two years on her “to-do” list.
Years later, she still regretted it like crazy.
* * *
Granted, expressing condolences was not Jake Wheeler’s strongpoint. He’d found it much easier to get through life by glossing over sad moments and enjoying pleasant ones. But after three unreturned phone calls, a sympathy card that garnered no response and an ignored charity donation in her grandmother’s name, he was certain Sophie Eden was not impressed with his efforts.
Jake’s admin, Audrey, buzzed the line in his office. “Ms. Eden’s assistant is on the line, Mr. Wheeler.”
Jake picked up his phone. “Lizzie, I’m worried that if we continue to spend this much time on the phone, people will start to get the wrong impression of our working relationship.”
“Sir? You remembered my name?”
“How could I not? Is this our fourth or fifth time speaking?”
“I’m not sure, sir. Probably the fifth.”
“And I’m guessing you know why I’m calling.” Jake rocked forward and back in his chair, watching out the window of his tenth-floor office in the luxury steel-and-glass tower of 7 Bryant Park. He had stunning views of the New York Public Library and other midtown Manhattan landmarks, but the one he enjoyed most was that of the building’s namesake. Down on the street, a temporary Christmas market was set up with vendors, music and ice skating. The holiday disruption had been overtaking the normally peaceful green space every December in recent years. Jake couldn’t wait for January, when it would all be gone.
“I do. And I’m very sorry, but Ms. Eden is not available right now.”
“Can you at least tell me when she’ll be back in the office?”
“She’s here all the time, Mr. Wheeler. But her schedule is packed and always changing, as I’m sure you can understand. It’s December. She runs one of the largest department stores in Manhattan. It’s a very busy time.”
“Of course.” Jake tapped his pen on his desk. “Did she get the fruit basket I sent?”
“She did. And she was generous enough to share it with the staff. Everyone has enjoyed it greatly. Thank you.”
Jake wasn’t sure what more he could do to get her to return his phone calls, and he certainly couldn’t arrive at a conclusion about why she was avoiding him. Their last interaction, years ago, at business school graduation, had been nothing but pleasant and cordial. They’d both agreed to let their shared history remain where it belonged—in the past.
“But she’s not there right now?” He purposely added a heavy tone of suspicion to the question. It was the end of the workday. If Sophie was too busy to pick up the phone, she had to still be at the office.
“I’m sorry, but she’s not available right now. No.”
Jake wasn’t sure what that meant, but he knew he was getting the runaround. “Fine. I’d like to leave a message. Again. My name is Jake Wheeler, and my number is—”
“Ms. Eden has your number.”
Jake choked back a frustrated grumble. “Please remind her that it’s very important. I need to speak to her.”
“She knows, sir. I’ve delivered each one of your messages personally.” Judging by the tone in her voice, Sophie’s assistant was losing her patience. That much they had in common.
“Great. Thank you.” Jake hung up the phone, more frustrated now than ever. He had to get Sophie to talk to him. He had to meet with her. Jake was a member of an exclusive investment group called the War Chest. It was run by financier Jacob Lin, and they tackled only the biggest of big deals—ones that required several sets of deep pockets. Jake had suggested Eden’s when Sophie’s grandmother had died. The other War Chest members, hoteliers Sawyer and Noah Locke and real-estate broker Michael Kelly, along with Jacob, had all voted yes on the idea. Jake assured them with a great deal of confidence that he had an inside track with Sophie. Of course, until a month ago, he’d thought he did have an inside track. He and Sophie were best friends in business school. For a brief but memorable twenty-four hours, they’d been more.
“Audrey?” he called out into the void of his office.
In seconds flat, Jake’s assistant snapped to attention in his office doorway. Audrey was fastidious, hyperorganized and very opinionated. “Sir, I really think it’s too late for coffee. You’ll get edgy, and caffeine is disruptive to sleep patterns.”
“I don’t need coffee. I’m wondering if you have any ideas on convincing a woman to call you back.”
“Jewelry. Flowers. Chocolate. A profession of love.”
Jake shook his head. “Not like that. I know that. I mean, in a professional setting.”
“So nothing romantic?”
Jake didn’t have to think about that one. He and Sophie were better off sticking to business. Of that much, he was sure. “Not intentionally romantic, but Ms. Eden does appreciate the finer things in life if that helps.”
Audrey nodded. “Ah, yes. Your unromantic fruit-basket recipient.”
“Precisely.”
“And that didn’t go over well? Who doesn’t love a fruit basket?”
“I have no idea.”
“Flowers?”
“Isn’t that a cliché?”
“Not if you buy a ridiculous amount of her favorites and show up with them in person.”
Jake raised both eyebrows at his assistant.
“That’s what my husband did when he proposed.”
“I’m not proposing marriage.”
“But you are trying to talk a woman into selling her business when it’s been only a few weeks since the family matriarch passed away. You might want to go big.”
“Excellent point.”
“Any idea what her favorite flower is?”
Jake had a recollection of a dinner at a professor’s house and Sophie commenting about the centerpiece. “The ones that look like roses, but aren’t actually roses. I think it starts with a p.”
“Peonies?”
“Yes. That’s it. Pink would be good.”
“I’m on it.”
“Thanks, Audrey.” Jake sat back in his chair and turned his sights to the city again. The sky was dark, snow flurries starting to fall. Could it be as simple as flowers? Jake doubted it highly. Nothing was ever simple with Sophie. But he needed to mix things up or he would lose ground. He knew for a fact that other investors and developers were courting her and her sister. His pitch would work so much better in person, especially if he could get Sophie
alone. She’d always dropped the tougher parts of her veneer when it was just the two of them.
Visions of Sophie flashed in his head—her lush red hair, her full lips, the way her brown eyes flickered with gold when she smiled. Each thought of her was more beautiful than the last. They’d been drawn to each other from the moment they met at a business school mixer. She laughed at his jokes and flirted like crazy with him, touching his arm and flashing her gorgeous eyes. They shared an immediate chemistry that was off the charts. In any other scenario, Jake would have taken her home that very first night.
But he made a point of keeping their relationship platonic, even when there had been days where that required superhuman strength. He wanted her. There was no question about that. But he knew how brutal those two years of school were going to be. He couldn’t afford to have a fellow classmate royally pissed at him for seducing her and then calling things off before they got serious, which was what Jake did every time. The panic when a woman started to get close to him was real. There was no erasing the part of his history that made him feel that way.
Still, the night they both gave in to their attraction had been magical. He couldn’t deny that. Two years of waiting and wondering and resisting can make giving in that much more delicious. They’d been studying at the library for hours, preparing for one of their final exams. Exhausted, Jake had asked Sophie if she wanted to go get a beer. She then realized how late it was, and in a panic asked Jake back to her apartment.
“My roommate is out of town and I’m supposed to feed her cat. The poor thing is probably starving. Come to my place. Okay?”
“Yeah. Sure. I just can’t study anymore.”
When they got to Sophie’s, after the cat had been fed, they sat on the couch and had a drink. To this day, he could remember the moment when he’d decided to finally kiss her. She’d put her gorgeous red hair in a pile on top of her head, and she’d laughed at one of his goofy jokes, quite possibly a little too hard, and her hair slumped to the side. She’d pulled at the tie, and it tumbled down onto her shoulders. Maybe he’d been tired. Maybe it was the beer. He only knew that after nearly two years of waiting, he had to kiss her.
So he did.
No woman had melted into him the way Sophie did. Her lips were pillow soft, her sweet smell truly beguiling, and her hands were everywhere. Before he knew what was happening, she was tugging his shirt up over his head and pushing him down on the couch, her body settling between his legs and driving him crazy with desire.
The moment when she sat back up, took his hand and led him to her bedroom was one of the most surreal. He’d fantasized about Sophie plenty, but she was also one of the only female friendships he’d managed to not only build, but maintain. He’d thought about it for a second that night, considered telling her it wasn’t a good idea for them to go to bed together, but once she took off her top and her stunning red hair tumbled back onto her shoulders? He was a goner.
They’d made love three times that night. They even took a shower together in the morning, which should have been enough to convince him that Sophie might be the one worth trying for more with. But when the time came for him to think about going back to his place, and it was clear that there were expectations for the two of them to discuss where this next went, Jake panicked just as he always had.
“You know, Sophie, last night was amazing, and I will always remember it. But we’re such great friends and we both have so much we want to do in our careers. I think it’s best if we chalk this up to two friends blowing off a little steam together.”
He knew the instant he’d said it that she deserved better. Sophie had wrapped her robe around her tight and nodded, forcing a smile. “Oh, yeah. Of course. A couple of friends hooking up, right? Happens all the time.”
He’d heard the hurt in her voice, but he told himself that with time it would go away. Sophie was too special—too smart, too funny, too beautiful. Some amazing guy, somewhere, would meet her and snatch her up and treat her the way she deserved to be treated. Jake wasn’t that guy. He didn’t possess the trust to let someone in like that. He’d tried and failed. He was self-aware enough to understand this particular shortcoming.
After their one night together, his friendship with Sophie quickly returned to its previous state, or at least close to it. Neither of them mentioned what had happened, they helped each other study, and soon enough, it was time to graduate. They’d hugged for a very long time that day. They’d wished each other luck. It was all perfectly normal and uncontroversial, except for Sophie’s parting words.
“I love you, Jake.”
Stunned, he ignored what she’d said and simply let her walk away. A few times during the eight years since then, Sophie’s words had resurfaced in his memory. He always fought them back. I love you was something a woman said right before she left forever. And sure enough, that was exactly what Sophie Eden did.
Two
Once again, Sophie had to start her workday by rushing through the shoe department, but she didn’t make it far before she stopped dead in her tracks. A stunning pair of chartreuse-green Blahniks had appeared since yesterday. Perched on a tall pedestal, with small bundles of sparkly beads and intricate lacing up the front, they were like a phoenix rising from the ashes of the other, lesser shoes. They stole her breath. She had to have them. They were sexy as all get-out. If only she had a man to test them out on. Her dating calendar had been tragically light since coming to work at Eden’s.
“Marie,” Sophie called out to the department head. She was training a new salesperson. “Can you set aside a pair of these for me?”
Marie smiled generously. “I thought those might catch your eye. They’re already in your office, sitting on your desk. Just have Lizzie buzz me if you don’t like them and I’ll have someone come by to pick them up.”
“Do you really think I might not like them?”
Marie shook her head. “Not a chance.”
Sophie grinned. Her job was sometimes overwhelming, but this was one of her favorite perks. Without another second to waste, she rushed back to the elevator and up to the top floor.
“Morning, Lizzie. What’s the gift-basket count today?”
“Five, I’m afraid. I think people are trying to outdo each other now.”
Sophie trailed into her office and set down her things, bypassing the baskets and zeroing in on the beautiful heels nestled in a box and tissue on her desk. She sat down and removed her pumps and worked her feet into the new shoes. “Did we at least get anything good?”
“How do two dozen gourmet caramel apples slathered in chocolate and sprinkles sound?”
“Like I need to skip lunch. Which is perfect because today is crazy.” Sophie stood up and took the new pumps for a spin around her office. “What do you think?”
“Honestly? Sexy. Super sexy.”
Sophie admired her feet again. Sure her toes were pinched and her arches would be screaming by the time the day was over, but she didn’t care. Right now, beautiful shoes were the only things that were making her happy. “If Marie comes by, tell her I’m keeping them.”
“Will do. Now, back to your crazy day. There’s a long list of fires that need putting out all over the store.”
“Great. Can’t wait.” Sophie gave the statement all the sarcasm it deserved.
“All six employees of the coat check have come down with the flu. We got someone from housewares to fill in, but you know how people feel about working the coat check. The ladies’ lounge on the fourth floor flooded at some point late yesterday and nobody noticed. There’s some water damage on three, but I have maintenance on it. Lastly, the perfume counter somehow managed to run out of Chanel No. 5, which seems like a problem at Christmas.”
“A huge problem.” Gram would’ve been horrified.
“Unfortunately, the distributor can’t get us anything for a week.”
“I�
�m on it. Can you call a temp agency to see if we can get somebody else to cover the coat check? People stay a lot longer in the store if they don’t have to carry around their winter gear.”
Lizzie left and Sophie wasted no time getting to work, first taking care of the more urgent matters, like the critical depletion of the Chanel No. 5 supply. After that, she pulled up the previous day’s sales numbers, which, although good, weren’t where they needed to be. This was one of those instances where she really needed Mindy to help her brainstorm on new marketing and store ideas for next year. But, of course, Mindy hadn’t merely expressed her disinterest; she’d said she absolutely refused to help out.
Lizzie rapped on Sophie’s door. “It appears that Jake Wheeler has taken things to the next level.”
“What now? Giant gourmet fortune cookies?”
Lizzie shook her head. “No. He’s here. With flowers. Lots and lots of flowers.”
“Here? He’s here?” Incomprehensible excitement rushed through her, followed quickly by a dizzying dose of jitters. She hadn’t seen Jake in eight years. It had taken three of those to get over him, and even then she wasn’t totally sure she’d managed to get him completely out of her system. Knowing what the mere mention of his name did to her made it seem that much more unlikely she’d accomplished the task. “What did you tell him?”
“He knows you’re here. Sorry, but Marie stopped by to check on your shoes and he heard me say that you were wearing them right now.”
“Lots of flowers?”
“Lots and lots.”
Sophie sucked in a deep breath and decided it was best to just get this over with. She couldn’t hide from him forever, even though she desperately wanted to. “Okay. I’m coming out.” She straightened her clothes, admittedly happy she’d worn a sleek, curve-hugging black dress. Jake didn’t need to know that it was one of the more comfortable work outfits she owned. All he needed to know was that she looked amazing in it, and unless he’d lost some visual acuity in the last eight years, he should have no trouble seeing that.
The problem was she wasn’t prepared to see him, especially not as she marched into the reception area and was confronted by his face, somehow more handsome eight years later, poking out above an armful of her favorite flowers—pink peonies. It was as if her subconscious had constructed this scene to disarm her. To leave her as a puddle on the floor. Between the heady smell of the flowers and the mind-blowing sight of Jake, she was surprised she could still stand.