Maddie Fortune's Perfect Man

by Nancy Robards Thompson

  But in the end, Zach liked to believe the experience hadn’t made him bitter. In fact, he liked to think it had turned him into the man he’d become. He’d learned to not get too close to anyone and only rely on himself. That way, he knew he’d never be let down. Self-reliance had been the only sure thing in his life.

  Once that had become ingrained, he’d learned that a smile and a lighthearted demeanor could open doors and give him access to people who could help him pad his bank account. Case in point: who would’ve ever thought that Kenneth Fortunado would open the door to his empire to somebody who didn’t share his blood?

  Zach had earned his way to this offer. He hadn’t strong-armed or swindled or misled Fortunado into making this offer. He’d simply shown him that he was the best person for the job.

  That’s why it was even more important to not let the stricken expression on Maddie’s face distract him from his goal. Kenneth had said, May the best man—or woman—win. Zach refused to feel guilty for trying.

  He made his way down the dimly lit hall and paused in the threshold of her office door.

  “Did someone forget to tell you you could go home?” he joked.

  “What are you talking about?” Maddie said, without missing a beat. “This is home. I thought you’d cut out early—what the hell are you wearing?”

  She scrunched up her nose and gave him a once-over from head to toe, then added, “What costume party are you attending?”

  “I had an appointment,” Zach said.

  “Where? Billy Bob’s Rodeo Clown School? This is a new look for you. And maybe not quite your style.”

  He smirked. At least she was still acting like herself. He shouldn’t be surprised, he told himself. She was a professional. The Madeleine Fortunado he knew would never let anyone catch her brooding in the office.

  “That’s one of the reasons I came back to the office,” he told her. “To change clothes.”

  Maddie grimaced. “You really went to your appointment dressed like that?”

  “Sure. I bought the hat especially for the occasion.” He tipped it onto his head. “Too bad you didn’t get to see the truck. It pulled everything together.”

  She’d been in Austin on business for a few days and he’d been out of the office closing some deals. They hadn’t seen each other since their lunch on Monday.

  He was glad to see her acting like herself.

  “The truck?” she asked. “What are you talking about?”

  She rolled her chair back from her desk and crossed one shapely, tanned leg over the other. The move inched her gray skirt up her leg a bit. Zach dared himself not to let his gaze fall.

  “The ranch is over in Sisterdale. I rented a Ford F-150 to complete the ensemble.” He gestured to his too-blue Wranglers. “I figured I might as well look the part when I met the client.”

  Maddie smirked as she smoothed her skirt down. “You know, ranchers can usually smell an imposter a mile away.”

  He cocked a brow. “Are you suggesting I’m not genuine?”

  Maddie gave his ensemble a very slow, obvious head-to-toe perusal. He didn’t mind her eyes on him one bit.

  * * *

  With the sleeves pushed up on his forearms, he looked unnervingly natural in that blue work shirt that emphasized his broad shoulders and trim waist where it was tucked into jeans. Damn if those Wranglers didn’t fit him like he’d been wearing them for years. He’d finished the ensemble with cowboy boots that somehow were just scuffed enough to look authentic.

  This was proof that the guy could wear anything and look hot.

  “Given the fact that you drive a sports car and probably spend more money on a single suit than I spend on clothes for the entire year, yes, I’d say this is not a genuine look for you.”

  But damn, you look good—

  Maddie bit back the words before they could escape and made a noise that was somewhere between a cough and clearing her throat as she made sure she swallowed them.

  “Are you okay?” Zach asked.

  Maddie waved him off. “Of course. I just have a tickle in my throat. Please tell me you didn’t actually wear the cowboy hat.”

  “I did wear the cowboy hat. Why? Do you think I shouldn’t have?”

  That delicious mouth of his had turned up at the corners and Maddie knew he was trying to yank her chain. She was determined to play along, just as she was determined to prove to him that she wasn’t the least bit affected by her father’s bombshell, that she was secure in the challenge and would succeed easily in claiming what was rightfully hers.

  But why Zach? Why did her dad have to challenge her with Zach? If he wanted to prove a point, he could’ve brought in someone from the outside. He could’ve poached a competitor or recruited some hotshot who raked in millions of dollars in sales.

  No, he’d chosen Zach. Her crush. He didn’t know that, of course.

  “Maddie?” Zach said. “The hat? Shouldn’t I have worn the hat?”

  “Only if you wanted to look like an even bigger fool.”

  He winced. “Next time I’ll know better.”

  “I suppose you bought the belt buckle, too?” Her gaze dropped to the oversize, square silver belt buckle that featured a gold-toned steer head right in the center.

  “Yeah.” His gaze dropped, too. She knew that he knew that her gaze had fallen due south. She crossed her arms to keep him from seeing the shudder of longing that rippled through her.

  “It’s a beauty, isn’t it?”

  Maddie swallowed hard and forced her eyes up.

  “So, when are they going to make their decision?” she asked.

  He smiled at her and she could’ve sworn he seemed happy that she’d been looking at him. God, she loved the way his blue eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled. Eyes like that could sink ships and break hearts.

  Right this moment was proof positive of that.

  She needed to be careful. He was the enemy. The one person standing between her and everything she’d been working for. Yet, she couldn’t resist flirting with him. Hell, forget the flirting. She wanted to walk right up to him and unbutton that blue shirt and see if his abs were as washboard flat as they looked. She wanted to relieve him of that belt with the ridiculous buckle and slip her hands beneath the waistband of those Wranglers and see if his hidden assets looked as promising as advertised.

  “What do you mean?” he said.

  She bit her bottom lip. “I mean are they talking to other brokers? When are they going to let you know?”

  “Of course, they’re not talking to other brokers. Do you think I went to all this trouble and drove all the way out to Sisterdale to walk away without the listing?”

  “You got the listing? Dressed like that?”

  “Of course I did.”

  Maddie felt her cheeks flame as a little voice inside her said, This is why your father is giving him a shot. The logical part of her knew this was true, even though the emotional part of her swelled up and eclipsed the voice of reason.

  She wasn’t about to let him know it bothered her.

  “Good for you,” she said. “I guess it was worth dressing like a greenhorn.”

  * * *

  He could have made a comment about going the extra mile and how it might do her some good to get out of her comfort zone and think outside the box like he did.

  But he didn’t.

  All he said was, “Looks that way. Listen, I need to go finish up the paperwork.”

  “Right,” Maddie said. “Are you going to the Thirsty Ox for happy hour?”

  On Friday nights, a handful of Houston-area real estate professionals had a standing date to meet for drinks and compare notes. They were supposed to share tips and tricks, but mostly, it was a report card for the week, a show-and-tell as to who’d sold what and had secured the most listings. It was a license to brag and posture, masquerading as cooperative business. He hadn’t been part of anything like that in San Antonio.

  “That’s right.” Zach glance
d at his watch. “That is tonight. I have to finish my paperwork, and I have a thing later tonight, but I think I can stop by for a few minutes.”

  It wasn’t that he disliked sharing; he just wasn’t used to operating that way. This was business. He didn’t see how it helped to brag about your clients and closings. But to each his own. In the name of self-correction, he knew being more community-minded could only help him in his effort to win the Fortunado promotion. Kenneth was a social guy. In most regards, it was the only area in which he and Fortunado differed. Zach had always held his business ventures close to the chest, Kenneth’s philosophy was that glad-handing only bolstered his business.

  Maddie cocked a brow at him. “You have a thing? Is that a technical term or a formal occasion?”

  He laughed. “Neither. It’s just a thing. Don’t you ever have things?”

  “Can’t say I do,” she said. “I’m usually too busy working for that kind of nonsense.”

  “You need to get out more, Madeleine,” he said.

  Maddie was pretty in a natural way that some men might overlook, though her natural beauty wasn’t lost on him. She had smooth skin, which she didn’t hide with makeup. Her clothing usually leaned toward the expensively understated. While her clothes were never flashy or, God forbid, sexy, Zach recognized the good quality of the classics she chose. She usually wore her long blond hair pulled back off her face with a headband or ponytail. Tonight, she’d twisted it on top of her head and secured it with a yellow pencil. He considered ribbing her about her improvised hairstyle in the same fashion in which she’d kidded him about his faux cowboy ensemble, but he thought better of it. Not tonight. Not when he still had work to do and then he had to go out to real estate show-and-tell.

  As he stood there, he realized he wasn’t sure how much they should tell the happy hour gang about the way Kenneth was auditioning his replacement.

  Maddie was a strong woman. In fact, some considered her downright prickly, which probably added to her untouchable quality. It was something that transcended the unspoken off-limits mandate of her being the boss’s daughter. With her Ivy League education and her sheltered upbringing, a woman like Maddie was way out of his league. Besides, in the little bit of time he had for pleasure, he wasn’t looking for anything too serious or heavy. There would be plenty of time for that, after he’d secured his future. For now, he needed to keep his eye on the prize.

  “We need to talk about your father’s announcement and how we want to handle it if it comes up tonight,” he said. “It has the potential to make things uncomfortable between us, but I want you to know that it doesn’t have to be.”

  “Okay.” Her answer was remarkably level and devoid of emotion. He’d hoped that if she had a problem with it or harbored any resentment or lingering animosity toward him—Monday at their lunch it was apparent that she wasn’t happy with the arrangement—he hoped they could talk it out.

  “If you need to say anything to me, now is the time to say it,” he said. “Go ahead. Don’t hold back. I can take it.”

  She looked at him as if he’d sprouted two heads.

  “Such as you won’t be offended if I tell you how much you’re annoying me right now by talking to me instead of letting me get my work done? Is that what you mean?”

  Her blue eyes flashed a mischievous glint as she smiled at him. There wasn’t a trace of the hurt and animosity he’d sensed days ago. In fact, he half expected her to good-naturedly accuse him of trying to undermine her, but she didn’t. So, he took it as his cue to exit.

  He smiled back and held up his hands. “Sorry. I’ll leave you to your work.”

  As he started toward his office, she said, “Zach?”

  He turned back to her. “Yes?”

  “You know I intend to win. What are you going to do when I do? I mean... Will you stay?”

  They both needed to get to work. He wasn’t going to stand here and go back and forth about who was going to win. They both wanted it.

  “Honestly? I don’t see how I could stay if I don’t get the promotion. So, that means we’re both in it to win it.”

  “I guess we are,” she said. “Bring it on.”

  Chapter Four

  Bring it on?

  Maddie cringed inwardly as she replayed the conversation she’d had with Zach an hour ago in the office. She shouldn’t have said it—again. It made her sound bitter and spiteful...and uncool. Not that she’d ever been cool a single day in her life.

  She should’ve just kept playing it cool. But once again, she’d tacked on those final three words: Bring it on.

  If Zach was going to leave Fortunado if—when—she won the promotion, then she might as well kiss him and get it out of her system.

  She inhaled sharply at the rogue thought. She blinked and took a gulp of beer, glancing around the Thirsty Ox looking for colleagues, as if they might be able to read her mind if they were close by. The thought was ridiculous. Both thoughts were ridiculous: mind-reading colleagues and kissing Zach to get him out of her system.

  But was it such a bad idea?

  She was going to win. He was going to leave—and who could blame him? If Zach bested her for the promotion, would she really want to stay around? It wasn’t that either of them were sore losers. It was a matter of principle, of self-preservation.

  If he was going to leave anyway, why not just kiss him now and get it out of her system? Then she would be able to clear her mind—cleanse it of all lustful Zach McCarter thoughts—and better focus on the colossal task ahead of her. Because once she kissed Zach, it would be like popping a balloon. The illusion would be debunked. The great and powerful Oz would be exposed to be a mere mortal.

  If that were true, then why were her lips tingling at the thought of tasting his, and her girl parts bucking for more than a kiss?

  Oh, hell.

  She crossed her legs, trying to stanch the need. Even though she thought she might want more, she told herself one taste would be enough to send her feelings for him into a downward spiral. That’s how it had always worked in the past. A big buildup, only for the fireworks to fizzle out with a pitiful whimper.

  Kissing Zach would be no exception.

  Where is everyone?

  Now, more than ever, she needed the distraction of colleagues talking shop. She’d arrived at the Thirsty Ox a little later than usual since she’d been late getting out of the office. Usually, she was the first one here on Friday nights, single-handedly holding down the fort until the rest of their group arrived. But as she was wrapping up her day at the office, she’d figured someone else could man up and hold the tables—usually the three six-toppers in the center of the pub. But when she’d walked in, she was surprised to discover she was, as always, the first to arrive.

  The Thirsty Ox was their place of choice. There was an English pub in the front, where people could meet and order drinks and pub fare. In the back was a full-service restaurant. The casual atmosphere and delicious food made it a popular place, and it was busy every day of the week, but at Friday happy hour, it was a madhouse.

  By this time, they were all usually on their second or third beers, the ones who’d decided to stay later were considering adjourning to the restaurant in the back where they could enjoy offerings such as fish and chips and shepherd’s pie. The ones who were just doing a drive-by were contemplating their departure.

  Where was everyone?

  She glanced around the place, its Tudor décor embellished with neon beer signs and perennial Christmas tree lights. The pub buzzed with groups playing darts and shooting pool amid the noisy music. But Maddie recognized no one—or had somehow missed them. It was a casual arrangement. No one RSVP’d, and not everyone could make it every week, but there had never been an instance in the five or so years that they’d been meeting that everyone had been absent on the same night.

  Everyone except for her. Because this was her big night out every week.

  A little voice deep inside hollered up from the darkness, You
’re twenty-nine years old. What if you’ve put all your eggs in one basket for nothing? If Zach wins, what will you do?

  Zach wasn’t going to win. Kissing him would be her lucky charm, the motivator that would drive her over the finish line.

  But what was she going to do? Walk up and plant a big smacker on him?

  That’s romantic.

  There’s nothing romantic about this.

  Her lady parts begged to differ. There could be.

  She got up from the bar and glanced in the back to see if her colleagues had skipped happy hour and headed straight to dinner. When she didn’t see anyone, she grabbed a table for four that was newly open. Maybe others were late, or maybe they had other plans. Her sister Val had a date tonight. Maybe everyone had dates tonight. Zach had mentioned that he had plans. Maybe after the unceremonious brush-off she’d given him, he’d decided to skip happy hour and go straight to his thing that he had this evening.

  Maybe she was the only one who didn’t have a personal life outside of the office.

  Maddie took another pull from the long-neck beer bottle, which she’d purchased just as happy hour was winding down. If no one showed by the time she finished her drink, she’d call it a night.

  Why was she taking this so personally? The Friday night meet-up wasn’t mandatory. It wasn’t as if the lot of them had blown off her personal party. But she always looked forward to these get-togethers. It was the one time during the week that she let down her hair and blew off steam.

  She really did need to get a life, didn’t she?

  Work had been her life. It was her boyfriend, her lover. She’d been so focused on climbing the corporate ladder, she hadn’t had time to meet men and date. What a fool she’d been.

  Her mind kept replaying her father telling her that there was no guarantee, that just because she was his daughter, he wasn’t going to hand her the job.

  All promotions must be earned.

  When had she given him the impression that she was just sitting there waiting for him to hand it to her? That was the humiliating and maddening part. Maddie thought she was showing him her best by putting in eighteen-hour days, working weekends and forgoing vacations and dating. Obviously, her best wasn’t good enough.