“LUV, YOU’VE BEEN staring at that same screen for a half hour. The CEO from Wilson’s will be here in twenty minutes.” Bebe’s voice broke through the haze that was her thoughts. Dang her. All morning Ainsley had tried to think of something other than her night of heaven with Ben. But—
“Ainsley! Bloody hell.” She glanced up to find Bebe shouting from the door frame.
“How do you know I wasn’t working?”
Her friend rolled her eyes. “People who are working make clickety clack sounds with their keyboard. Usually your constant rattle on the keys drives me bonkers. But today, you keep sighing and then nothing. Are you going to tell me what happened this weekend? You’ve been acting weird ever since you walked in the door. And what’s with the gutted look?”
Was she gutted? Maybe. She shook her head. No one, as far as she was concerned, would ever know what happened with her and Ben. It was a special night she was going to keep in her fantasies, probably for the rest of her life. They’d made love three times and her body still felt the effects, a wonderful soreness that she didn’t want to forget.
Even though she had to. That was it. They weren’t even repeating that night. If only she could get the image of the hot Marine out of her head.
He’d had to leave before it was light out; he needed to get to the base, and she was still mad because she’d barely been able to open her eyes when he was gone. He’d whispered something but she couldn’t remember the words.
She’d pay big money to know what he’d said.
When she’d opened her eyes finally, he was no longer there. She’d wanted to make love to him one more time. Just to get him out of her system.
Yep. That’s why.
Bebe cleared her throat.
She glanced up at her friend. “I’m on it, okay? You know how I am when I’m working on those creative problems. Sometimes I stare off into space. Go make the coffee or something, already.”
Bebe quirked an eyebrow.
Cranky. “Sorry. Sorry. I’ll make the coffee.”
Her friend smiled. “Don’t worry about it. I’m just giving you a hard time. I already know about your midnight shag with the handsome Marine.”
“What?” Her hands flew out and nearly knocked over her coffee cup.
“Well, technically, I didn’t know. I guessed, but you just gave it away.” She held up a newspaper. There was a picture of her dancing with Ben with the headline Military Men Break Charity Records.
Kill. Me. Now. What would Ben think of that photo? She hoped he didn’t mind being in the paper or linked to her. Sometimes she forgot about the fact that some people were interested in her life just because her parents were wealthy. But the story really did seem to be more about the charity. At least there was that.
“So we danced.”
“Yes. And then what? You must have been snogging the heck out of that Marine,” Bebe said. “Look at how he’s staring at you, like he could never get enough of you. Whew. That’s some heat, luv.
“And you’ve been starry-eyed all morning. So this is what you’re like when you get some good sex! Quiet, and introspective. Those aren’t two words I’d ever use to describe you. Maybe it should happen more often. Should I call the Marine for another session? He might be better than meditation or even yoga.”
“Shut it.” What if he’d seen the photo? Would he be embarrassed? And her expression wasn’t much better than his. What had she been thinking right then? Because she looked like she was ready to rip her clothes off and have him... Well, she sort of, in a way, had been thinking exactly that.
No. No. Don’t go there. He’d been doing her sister a favor and now here was his picture. No doubt it was online, as well. Would he get in trouble with his boss? He’d mentioned a couple of times how the officers were expected to lead by example and she didn’t know what he might think about ending up on the social pages. A big part of her was too chicken to even text him to ask.
“Hmm. You are smitten. Fifteen minutes until one of our best clients arrives. You might want to at least look at your presentation, which I did just email to you. I think you’ll like the gifts I picked out for the executive level.”
“Bebe?”
Her friend turned back. “Yes?”
“I really do love you best.”
Her friend and business partner grinned.
Ainsley downloaded the presentation and sure enough, her friend had outdone herself.
Her phone dinged, and she glanced down to see Ben’s name flash across the screen.
Her pulse quickened and she might have gasped a little.
OMG. She hadn’t expected to hear from him again. They’d both agreed. She reached down to swipe across the screen, but stopped.
There were voices in the outer office. Shoot.
Ben would have to wait. Even though reading his text was the only thing she wanted to do. This was why she couldn’t do relationships, or fun in general. Life was too busy and she had to put all of her energy into her business. Spending hours mooning over some guy was not the best route to being productive.
That settled it.
Leaving her phone on the desk, she gathered her laptop and headed into the conference room of the old house where she and Bebe worked. She lived upstairs, and the bottom of the Georgian home was where she did business. The conference room had actually once been the front parlor. She’d inherited the house and had planned at first to use it as a rental, but when she moved back to Corpus from Dallas, she and Bebe fixed up the downstairs for their offices.
They’d kept the original style, but freshened up the place. It didn’t have the opulence of any of her parents’ houses, but that was one of the reasons she liked it here. This house felt like a home, not some museum where you couldn’t put your feet up. Straightening her shoulders, she didn’t bother glancing back at her phone. Even though she really wanted to.
It was strange that Mr. Wilson wanted to meet here at the office, but who was she to question him? Saved her the drive to downtown, since her house was in one of the quaint neighborhoods near the beach.
She pasted a smile on her face and entered the conference room. When he stood to shake her hand, the smile became real.
Mr. Cam Wilson III was wearing board shorts and a T-shirt with flip-flops. Not exactly his usual Armani.
“The waves up today?” she asked.
“Yes, as a matter of fact they are. Packery Channel Beach is reporting five-foot swells—not so big, but bigger than usual.” He clapped his hands together. “We have twenty minutes. Show me what you got.”
And this was what it was all about. Her business and the clients who depended on her.
“Five minutes, and I’ll have you out of here. Wait until you see what we’ve come up with.” Thank goodness for Bebe. Maybe she really should talk to her friend about giving her a raise. She’d saved her today.
She’d get through this.
And then she was going to read the message Ben had sent, even though she really, really shouldn’t.
* * *
AN HOUR LATER, she was in her car, still not sure what to do about Ben’s text or where she was going. He’d texted I need an emergency gift. Can you help me out? Call me. Please.
It was business. She had to call him back, right? This was dumb. And he spelled all the words out. She liked it when people did that in a text. Half the time she struggled to know what people were trying to say. Megan only used emojis. Ainsley had yet to figure out what ice-cream cones, flowers and clowns stood for in a conversation.
Just call him.
She pulled into a grocery store parking lot because she didn’t trust herself to drive, but before she could push the call button, her mother’s number flashed across the screen.
“Hey, Mom.”
“Hello, my lovely child. Where are you?”
“Heading to a client meeting.” She was worried her mom would keep her on the phone for a while; technically, she was picking up lunch because she’d been so rude to Bebe about the coffee earlier and the guilt was still weighing on her. And she needed to get away from the knowing looks from her friend. Bebe shared Ainsley’s intuitive nature, which was good for their business, but bad when Ainsley was trying to hide something from her friend.
“Oh, I was hoping we could have lunch before I head back to San Antonio to meet your father and some friends for dinner.” Her parents had pretty much moved their base of operations to San Antonio two years before she’d graduated college, though her mom was in Corpus Christi at least once a month for a charity function or to visit friends. And they’d kept their house on Ocean Drive in Corpus. The monstrosity sat empty most of the time.
“Sorry. Crazy day ahead. It’s my—”
“Busiest time of year. I know, dear. Are you going to be coming up for your father’s football party this weekend? I can’t remember which game it is. Anyway, he had some people he would like you to meet.”
That was code. By people, she meant eligible bachelors. Ones who were well pedigreed, and probably boring, or really narcissistic jerks. She never liked to generalize, but the men her parents thought appropriate would never be her type.
If she had a type. Which she didn’t. But if she did, it might be Ben.
No. Not Ben. Why couldn’t she get it together? It wasn’t as if she’d never had sex before—just not like that.
“Ainsley? Did you hit a bad cell area?”
She had to stop thinking about him. “No, I’m here. Was just checking my phone. Sorry, no can do. Busy, busy this weekend.” That wasn’t a lie. Her parents, or more specifically, her father, didn’t see her business as something relevant. He thought it was more of a hobby for her. Her father didn’t understand why she couldn’t drop everything when he expected her to be around.
“How about the Christmas party? You’re not going to disappoint us, are you? The whole family will be there, and won’t your busy season be over by then?”
Not exactly. The last few hours before the holidays were insane. Last year, they were still dropping off presents at midnight on Christmas Eve, mainly for men who had somehow forgot to buy a gift for their significant others. How did you forget your partner? It didn’t say a whole lot about marriage.
There was no getting out of her parents’ holiday party, though. It was a family tradition, and they always had their big family get-together the next day. That part she liked. The party, not so much. Despite the decorations, drinking and general merriment, it always seemed a bunch of people trying to kiss up to her parents.
“Of course, wouldn’t miss.” And she’d already made plans with Bebe to hire some part-time staff to help them with the last-minute deliveries.
“Lovely. I’ll tell your father you can meet his friends then. Bye, darling girl.”
“Bye, mom.”
Oh, well. Maybe she could find a date for that party. That would show her dad. She’d never understood why he raised her and her sister to be decisive, independent women, and then he wanted to pair them off with the nearest available bachelors. Correction, the nearest available well-connected and usually shallow bachelors.
She loved her dad, but she was tired of the game he’d been playing the last two years.
A plan began to form in her brain.
She couldn’t. No. It was so very wrong.
Oh, but she was so going to do it.