TRACY FLOATED back into 330 East Kilbourn Avenue, wafted up along with the elevator to the ninth floor offices of 21st Century Produce and danced into her suite, not surprised that Mia wasn’t back from lunch yet.
Paul wanted her. And she could have him. The fact that following through might be a bad idea was not allowed to enter her fantasies until tonight when she met with the girls. Then she could face reality. Right now she was too busy floating, wafting and dancing her way through the champagne-enhanced afternoon, reliving the firm possessive touch of his mouth, the way-sexy smell of his aftershave, the hard warmth of his body…
She walked around Mia’s desk to grab the mail and sort through it. What a time. What a—
“Well, hello.”
She looked up from her mail and her fantasies to see one of the hugest men she’d ever laid eyes on filling the suite doorway. He had to be well over six feet and built like a linebacker, dark and very attractive in an obvious sort of way.
“I’m Dave. And you are…” He peered at Mia’s nameplate. “Mia Templeton.”
“Mee-a.” He practically purred the name, inasmuch as an enormous bass voice could purr. “In Italian it means…mine.”
He accompanied the words with a dark stare so melting that Tracy’s jaw shot open in sheer awe. Whew! This guy must drop ’em like flies.
“I wonder, Mee-a, if you could tell me where I might find the lovely and talented Tracy Richards.”
“Right here.”
He blinked. “You?”
She nodded and couldn’t stop a snort of laughter at the surprise on his face. “Can I help you?”
“I think you can.”
Again that deep purr, like rich fur sliding over bare skin. Or something. Tracy suppressed another snort. The man was a major pro. “Shoot.”
“I think you know my best buddy, Paul Sanders.”
Tracy received this news with a gasp. Unfortunately, she also happened to be swallowing at the same time, so she got to spend a lovely minute or so nearly choking to death.
“Easy there.” He patted her gently on the back with a huge hand. “Easy. If you die I’d feel responsible.”
“Why…are you here?” She managed a full breath and bent her head gratefully, hand still at her throat.
He wandered over to the wall and examined the watercolor landscapes Tracy had chosen for her office. “I want to take you to dinner tomorrow.”
Tracy’s head shot up. He did? “You do?”
“Yeah. Since Paul is in love with you, I figured—”
“What?” Tracy clutched her chest. Dave sprang up to the desk, hand ready for more back pats, but she managed to gasp and swallow in the proper sequence this time. “He told you that?”
“Oh, no.” Dave waved a finger back and forth. “No, no, no. He doesn’t even know it yet. Just me.”
Tracy fell back into Mia’s chair so hard it rolled halfway to the wall behind it. This encounter was already exhausting. And for one weird surreal moment—disappointing. Which made no sense. Why would she want Paul to be in love with her? She wouldn’t. Because of course that would only confuse things more.
“So why does Paul being in…why does that make you want to take me to dinner?”
“Two reasons.” He cleared his throat. “One, I have something of a…reputation with the ladies.”
Now that she could believe. “Really.”
He shrugged. “When the right one comes along I’ll be as devoted and faithful as they come. But right now, why bother? Get out there and live, that’s what I say. You know what I mean?”
“Uh…yeah.” She tried not to think about that particular philosophy in terms of her and Paul. Just because she wasn’t out there screwing around didn’t mean she wasn’t living. “But what does this have to do with—”
“I figure since Paul keeps insisting you mean nothing to him, then he’s not going to mind if I take you out, right?” He winked and tapped the side of his forehead. “But I know better. Since you actually mean everything to him, once he’s faced with the fact that someone like me, who is generally…successful with the ladies, has you in his company for an evening, he’ll be forced to acknowledge his deep and abiding love for you.”
“He will.” The logic was definitely escaping her.
“In short, he’ll go nutso jealous.”
“I…see.” She scootched the chair close to Mia’s desk and picked up her mail again. Dave might be charming, but he was also apparently manipulative. She doubted very much that Paul would appreciate this kind of help with his…lust life. “And reason two?”
“Reason two, I think you don’t have the total picture that is Paul Sanders. I don’t think he has the total picture that is Paul Sanders, or at least he’s hidden it temporarily. And I’d like to share that with you. You should see it.”
“Oh.” She put the mail down again and folded her hands together in her lap. She didn’t much admire the “make him nutso jealous” part of the plan, but the honest affection and concern on Dave’s face when he talked about his friend made the rest of the idea much more appealing. Who wouldn’t want an insider’s view of someone as confusing as Paul? Maybe Dave could help her sort him out.
“And reason three…”
She frowned. “I thought there were only two.”
“The third one goes without saying. You are beautiful and I want to take you to dinner. And four…”
“Four?”
He gave her another killer smile. “I’m having cravings.”
Tracy shrank back. “Cravings.”
“Serious cravings. For meat. Ground meat. On a bun. And there’s only one place in this beertown to go when you crave ground meat on a bun.” He winked and leaned over the desk as if he was going to impart a solemn secret.
She grinned at his handsome easygoing face and opened her mouth, certain they were going to say the exact same thing at the exact same time.
“Nate’s Place.”
“SO I SAID I’D GO.” Tracy shrugged and sipped at her water. Her blissful high of the afternoon had faded into headache and uncertainty. Should she go to Nate’s with Dave? Should she go to Nate’s with Paul? Should she talk to Dave? Should she sleep with Paul? Yes? No? Should she? Shouldn’t she?
This was ridiculous.
Allegra, Cynthia and Missy stared at her around their table at Louise’s.
“Let me get this straight.” Cynthia leaned forward onto clasped hands. “You’re going out with this Dave guy to make Paul jealous?”
“I don’t think that’s right.” Missy gave a worried frown. “That stuff always backfires in the end.”
“No, no, no.” Tracy held up both hands. “I’m not going out with him. I’m just going…out with him. The jealousy thing was his idea. I definitely don’t think that will work.”
“Ha!” Cynthia slapped her palm on the table. “Then you don’t know men. They’re like little territorial pit bulls. Even if they don’t want you, they sure as hell don’t want their best friend having you. And we know for sure Paul wants you. Trust me, he’ll go ape.”
“Dave isn’t going to have me. He wants to tell me something about Paul and I…think I might want to hear.” She took a deep breath against irrationally threatening tears. Somewhere along the way she’d decided to give Paul a chance and it was obviously scaring her to death since she was ready to cry every time his name was mentioned.
Maybe Dave wouldn’t give her more than a hyped-up sales pitch, but there was always hope that her guy radar hadn’t malfunctioned as severely as she thought. That it hadn’t pointed her in such an entirely wrong direction. Maybe she and Paul could find some common ground. After all, even though they’d grown in opposite directions, they’d both started out humbly, both come into money later in their lives. And look how much she’d liked eating quail eggs and duck salad.
“I don’t like it.” Allegra shook her head so her six-inch multihoop earrings smacked her repeatedly on the cheeks. “Why don’t you go to the source? If you want to know about Paul, then ask Paul.”
Tracy rolled her eyes. “Ask him what? ‘Gee, Paul, I sense that everything you’ve shown me about yourself is complete and utter bull. Would you mind revealing your true inner nature?”’
“Oh.” Allegra wrinkled her nose. “I see what you mean.”
“I still think you should come clean about knowing he was impersonating Dan at the shore. Especially if he…” Missy cleared her throat and blushed. “Seems to want to…uh—”
“Do you like a crazed orangutan.”
“Cynthia!” Missy hunkered down in her seat.
Tracy studied her interlocked fingers. “I still think the confession has to come willingly, not be forced by me confronting him. Maybe after I talk to Dave that will all make sense, too.”
“Well, well.” Cynthia raised her eyebrows. “I sense a real change of heart in progress.”
“I think maybe your heart has already changed.” Allegra reached out and squeezed Tracy’s hand. Missy nodded.
Oh no. This time the irrational tears came irrationally up into Tracy’s eyes, rolled irrationally down her cheeks and dripped all over the innocent napkin in her lap. Then more tears. A regular mortifying irrational waterfall.
The girls immediately mobilized tissues, in Missy’s case a cotton monogrammed handkerchief, and passed them over. Tracy blew her nose on the tissues and dabbed at her eyes with the hanky. “My lord, I’m a nutcase over this man. What is happening to me?”
“You’re in love.” Missy’s face glowed with gooey-eyed happiness that made Tracy shudder, except she couldn’t tell if it was a fear-and-loathing type shudder or an eerie-excitement shudder. Or both.
Had she mentioned this was ridiculous?
“Come on, Missy. How could I be in love? I barely know the man and I don’t respect his choices or his life-style.” The denials leaped out of her mouth. “Can you picture him enjoying life on our farm?”
“Sounded to me a minute ago like you were way open to revising your opinion of his choices. And as for the farm…” Cynthia rolled her eyes.
“What about the farm?”
“The farm is a nice place, Tracy, but it’s not paradise like you keep talking about.”
Tracy bristled. “Maybe not to you. I was a hell of a lot happier there. If my dad didn’t need me here, I’d go back in a second.”
“You could be happy here, too, you’re just not letting yourself be.”
“Cynthia.” Allegra laid a restraining hand on her shoulder.
Cynthia fell back against her chair. “I know, I know, shut my mouth. I’m sorry. Sometimes I feel like things were simpler in North Carolina and I do miss that. But I sure as hell don’t want to go back to that life. Not after I’ve worked so hard to get this far.”
Tracy smiled at her friend, pitying her a little. Cynthia had indeed worked hard. So hard that she still felt the need to deny where she’d come from. As if poverty and shame would suck her back if she acknowledged her past.
“How do you feel when you’re around him?” Allegra squeezed lime into her soda water, peering over her bright red half glasses.
Tracy considered, then let out an involuntary, slightly hysterical giggle. “Horny.”
Cynthia burst out laughing. “Atta girl.”
“But horny isn’t love.” Tracy put up a protesting hand. “It’s just…horny.”
“What else? You must feel something else.” Allegra dropped the squeezed lime into her drink. “Dig deep inside and remember.”
“Well, he is funny and charming. And at the restaurant when he saw I was a little intimidated by the menu, he offered to order for me. That was nice.”
“Do you feel different around him? More yourself?” Allegra shrugged. “More like somebody else?”
Tracy swallowed and let out a long sigh. “At the restaurant. At the end. I…didn’t feel so out of place. I guess there was that. And…”
“And?” Three heads leaned closer to her around the table.
“I felt…bolder.”
“Bolder how?” Cynthia asked.
“…sexually. I mean I said things that…it was like I was someone else.”
Missy covered her ears. “I don’t think I want to hear this.”
Cynthia yanked her hands down. “Yes you do.”
“Don’t you see?” Allegra reached and patted Tracy’s arm. “You feel safe with him. You can let parts of yourself out that no one else has seen.”
Tracy’s arm tensed under Allegra’s soothing pats. She had this immediate crazy urge to cry again, so she laughed instead. “Well that sounds pretty dramatic.”
“But you know what, Tracy?” Cynthia leaned forward. “Even I’m in on this one. You got it really bad for this guy. And you’d be an idiot not to go for it.”
“Wait a second, let’s not go too far.” Missy made a time-out T with her hands. “That’s exactly why she shouldn’t ‘go for it.’ She loves him. She could get hurt. Men don’t think about sex the same way we do.”
“Speak for yourself.” Cynthia winked. “Worst thing happens, she has a great time in the sack, it doesn’t work out, and she cries for a day or two. Worst case. If his best friend thinks Paul’s in love with her, then there’s a chance he is. I say do it. Talk to the best friend first. Then call Paul, feed him Nate’s burgers and go home with him. Then be sure to call the Manhunters in the morning and tell us all the good stuff.”
Allegra held up a finger. “But I agree with Missy, you need to clear up the business at the shore first. You can’t enter into this—”
“Or let him enter into you…”
Allegra smacked Cynthia’s shoulder. “You can’t get involved with him with any kind of deception still brewing. It’ll screw up your karma from the beginning.”
“I agree.”
Tracy looked around the table at the three women. She’d come here for advice and she’d gotten it. And by the excitement burgeoning up from under her superficial protests, it was exactly what she wanted to hear. Hadn’t the Manhunters made a pledge to explore this kind of chemistry? Wasn’t she aching for more of that addictive thrill of being with him? Yes, she could get hurt, but maybe Dave did know something about Paul’s true feelings. Maybe by being with him, she’d find out that—
Tracy scowled. To hell with reason. To hell with justification. The whole tangle boiled down to the fact that she wanted to be in Paul Sanders’s bed more than she didn’t.
She’d go to dinner with Dave, find out what he had to say, then call Paul…and for once in her life, in Cynthia’s immortal words: go for it.
PAUL JIGGLED his key in the lock on his condo door, arms full of files, jacket slung over his elbow, mail clenched between his teeth. Hell of a day. Seven-thirty, no dinner yet, hadn’t had time to go to the gym, didn’t have time to now.
He turned the key, pushed open the door and shut it behind him with his foot. The smell of cleaning fluid met his nose. Sue must have been in today; the place was immaculate.
For one head-clouding second, he imagined the house smelling of dinner and Tracy. Imagined her home already or expected soon, greeting him with a peck on the cheek.
Hi, honey, how was your day?
He shook his head and changed the picture. No. Tracy greeting him in a sexy little black dress that showed off her fair skin and slender figure.
No. In a lace bra and panties under a white transparent robe.
Uh-uh. Totally naked spread-eagled on his bed, her dark curls contrasting with the white cotton of his pillowcases and her darker curls contrasting with the white skin of her thighs.
He shut his eyes and dumped the files on his kitchen counter so he could adjust himself under his pants. Man, had she ever gotten into his system. Even on one of his nightmare busy days he didn’t go more than twenty minutes without thinking about her and whether she’d take him up on his offer. Didn’t answer one phone call without hoping it was her. She had his damn balls in a sling.
He pressed the playback button on his answering machine and opened the refrigerator, scowling at the contents. Half a pot of fennel leek soup, Pol Roger champagne, marinated asparagus…nothing appealed. Tonight he was in the mood for some serious meat and potatoes.
Beep. The answering machine clicked into action. He kept scanning the refrigerator, but stopped registering what he saw. Had Tracy left one of the messages? Even knowing she didn’t have his home number didn’t keep him from hoping.
“Hi Paul, it’s Mom. Just calling to say hi. I know you’re busy. Love you.” Beep.
“Paul, it’s John, gimme a call sometime, we can play golf.” Beep.
“Yo, Paul.” Dave’s voice boomed over the machine. “You didn’t call me back.”
Paul winced and pushed aside a bag of Belgian endive. He’d tried once, then the day had overtaken him.
“Remember how you said you weren’t interested in Tracy?”
Paul straightened and turned to stare at the answering machine, as if watching it would prepare him better for whatever Dave was about to say.
“Well, I wanted to talk to you first, but you didn’t call back. In any case, I stopped by her office yesterday and met her.” He whistled suggestively.
Paul shut the refrigerator.
“I figured since you weren’t into her, you wouldn’t mind if I asked her out.”
Paul took three steps toward the machine.
“I wanted to clear it with you first, but it kind of happened fast. I’m taking her out tonight. To Nate’s.”
Nate’s. Paul recoiled as if Dave’s fist had made contact with his midsection; his muscles bunched instinctively for counterattack.
What the hell is this, Dave?
“Just wanted you to know. See you around buddy.”
The machine beeped and clicked off. Paul put his hand to his forehead. Okay, think. Dave was trying to make him jealous. Part of his ludicrous She’s-The-One matchmaking plan. In fact, Dave had probably left the message with information about where they were precisely to make Paul show up at Nate’s in some crazed caveman rage, demanding his woman. Well, think again, Dave. Paul wasn’t that easily manipulated.
He dropped his hands to his hips. Be rational. Nothing was going to happen tonight. Dave was far too good a friend and far too honorable a person to take advantage of the situation. He’d take Tracy out, they’d talk, Dave would keep one eye on the door for Caveman Paul and that would be the end of it. Even as much as Dave loved scoring, he’d control himself this time. For Paul’s sake. For sure.
Right. Paul clapped his hands together. Nothing to worry about. It was actually nice that Tracy wanted to get to know Paul’s friends. Really nice. He could picture her and Dave hanging out together in comfortable, casual clothes, chatting amicably, easily over their burgers. Maybe even right then, Tracy was laughing at something Dave said.
Paul smiled to himself at the thought. See? He could picture that no problem. Tracy sitting opposite his best friend. Laughing.
Her eyes came alive like nothing he’d ever seen when she laughed. It was as if she opened up to let someone else through. In those moments he realized how muted and sad she was the rest of the time.
Now Dave was probably doing that for her. Making her happy. Making her laugh. Dave was a funny guy. Charming. Irresistible.
He moved his jaw which for some reason had set itself painfully rigid. Good! That was good. Tracy needed to be happy more often. He’d like to make her that happy all the time, keep her eyes that alive. As alive as they were when she baited him at Chez Mathilde, said those tantalizing things, her breath as high as her color, trembling a little as if she was taking her life into her hands for the first time and finding the danger well worth it.
At that moment, his brain turned inside out, his body rock hard under the tablecloth, he’d realized how ludicrous it was to pretend to himself or anyone else that his feelings for Tracy were either platonic or easily controlled. At that moment he’d decided that he wanted her in bed and damn the consequences.
He forced his fists to unclench. Relax, relax. She wouldn’t take that same sensual risk with Dave. Just because Dave had picked her favorite restaurant, where she’d be at ease and at home, while Paul took her to the fussiest place in town, knowing she’d be way out of her element. He’d tried so hard to impress her with his class without thinking of her comfort. While Dave…Dave knew.
Freaking Nate’s Place.
And the damn irony was that Dave had never seen a day’s deprivation in his life.
Paul stalked into his bedroom, unbuttoned his Thomas Pink shirt, bunched it and threw it on the bed. Fine. Terrific. Dave’s stupid, transparent, manipulative little piece of bullshit had worked. Paul was like a helpless guppy caught in a tidal undertow.
He pulled off his undershirt and yanked down his suit pants, opened his bottom drawer and rummaged around until he came up with a pair of jeans and his Attitude! T-shirt. She wanted Nate’s? Fine. She’d get it. But not with Dave, damn him all to hell.
He kicked off his Prada dress shoes, tossed his Tse socks over his shoulder and pulled on plain cotton sport socks and his beat-up hiking boots. She was going to spend the evening at Nate’s with him. He was going to eat her precious hamburgers, bring her back home and start their relationship back at square one. Come clean about the Dan charade and indulge every spark of their electric attraction as he should have that first night on the beach at Fish Creek.
And if he had anything to say about it, she’d end up feeling as helpless and guppylike in the face of this powerful passion as he did.