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“I deserve a break,” she muttered, stretching her muscles as she stood. A cup of tea sounded good, and maybe she’d drop by Meg’s office on the way back from the break room, see if her friend had any fun model gossip this morning.
The break room was a beige room with scuffed cabinets and absolutely zero decorative qualities. There was, however, always a ready supply of hot and cold beverages, the day’s copy of the Atlanta Journal-Constitution to read, and usually people with whom to shoot the breeze. All in all, a good source of procrastination.
Today, the coffee room’s inhabitants were female, with one notable exception.
Justin Hawthorne sat in a blue plastic chair amid five women, including Kate from HR; Steve’s personal secretary, Diane; a couple of ladies from accounting; and even sixty-seven-year-old Ms. Phipps, who kept casting wish-I-were-forty-years-younger glances in Justin’s direction.
The admiring glances Olivia could empathize with, but really, had Diane forgotten this was a place of business? When the curvy redhead asked Justin if she could have the issue of the AJC lying on the table in front of him, she managed to phrase the request in a breathless sultry tone that insinuated she wanted something much more. Instead of waiting for him to hand her the paper, she slowly leaned forward, brushing against him in a way Kate could have used as the what-not-to-do example in her sexual-harassment seminar.
Waggling his eyebrows, Justin said something in a low voice that caused Diane to laugh, and Olivia ground her teeth. Her annoyance was only heightened when she couldn’t help an admiring glance of her own. No man should look that good! His all-black attire today was a great foil for his light hair and bright eyes.
Basic black is back, and what could be sexier?
The man lounged in his chair like a sexy monarch surveying his coffee-scented kingdom. Or a sheikh with his harem. Olivia reached blankly for one of the mugs kept over the sink, but instead of seeing the cabinet in front of her, she envisioned herself in a flimsy costume of veils, summoned by Justin to—
“Morning.” His warm deep voice in her ear caused her to jump, and she clenched the handle of the blue mug to keep from dropping it.
“Justin! I didn’t notice you.” More accurately, she’d been too lost in her own torrid fantasies to see him stand up.
“Apparently.” He raised a dark blond brow. “Not very flattering, you realize.”
Olivia said nothing as she filled her mug with water. Was his teasing comment an invitation for her to appease his ego? Why would he need it when, as far as she could tell, the other women in the room had been generously feeding his self-esteem?
Sean’s parting words echoed in her mind. It wouldn’t be fair to the women of the world to limit myself to just one. Was Justin cut from the same cloth? Wanting that sixth woman’s attention when he already had the adoration of five, including a gorgeous redheaded secretary who was now glaring daggers at Olivia? Was that all the moment of sexual connection in her office yesterday had been about? For a few seconds, with his eyes on hers, he’d made her feel no one existed beyond the two of them, but maybe he would have behaved the same with any other woman.
Justin reached past Olivia to the coffeemaker, glancing over his shoulder at the female-inhabited table. “Did you want sugar in this, Ms. Phipps?”
“Two packets, please.”
As he stirred the sugar into the cup he’d just filled, Olivia sighed. It was much easier to maintain her cynical image of the man when he was enjoying Diane’s cleavage instead of doing a favor for the elderly Ms. Phipps.
Diane, however, wasn’t impressed with his small act of kindness. She left the room in an I’m-not-used-to-sharing-a-man’s-attention huff. The two women Olivia recognized from accounting followed behind, chatting as they walked, but they both shot wistful glances in Justin’s direction.
Seemingly oblivious, he handed Ms. Phipps her cup of coffee.
The older woman smiled. “Thank you, but I should be getting back to work now, too.”
“My loss,” Justin said with a rakish smile.
Olivia grabbed a single-serving bag of decaffeinated tea, wondering if he was a great guy who was kind to his elders, or if he was just so in the habit of flirting that he never turned it off.
After the small exodus of women, the only one remaining was Kate, who sidled closer to Justin and delicately cleared her throat. “So, um, about that dinner….”
“I’ll call you after the South Carolina trip,” Justin said. “You pick out the restaurant.”
Not a week on the job and he already had a date. Now why isn’t that surprising? The only surprise was that his plans were with fresh-faced Kate and not Diane, who stood a better chance at holding her own with a man in Justin’s league. Trying to look like something other than a disapproving eavesdropper, Olivia set her mug in the microwave.
Kate bounced out of the room with the enthusiasm of a teenager who’d just been asked to the prom, and Olivia almost winced on the poor girl’s behalf. When Olivia had been younger, she’d worn her heart on her sleeve in much the same way…but after it had been broken a few times, she’d moved it for safekeeping.
Instead of also leaving now that his admirers had gone, Justin leaned against the counter. She watched the microwave, willing it to beep. Thursday, when she’d be trapped in the car with him, was plenty soon enough to be alone with him. She pondered the possibility of his becoming less sexy between now and then. Was there a polite, logical way to insist he didn’t wear black?
Probably not.
TRYING NOT TO BE too obvious, Justin studied his beautiful co-worker. Her gray eyes were frosty today, with no hint of the molten silver desire he’d seen—and felt—yesterday in her office. He wanted to cajole her into a more receptive mood, to prove the woman he’d seen glimpses of was in there somewhere.
“How’s your day going, Liv?” He assumed she went by the office nickname, but, personally, he didn’t think it suited her.
The more lyrical Olivia fit perfectly—as did the navy turtleneck and long tailored skirt she wore. There was a sexy contrast between how little skin was revealed and how boldly the lush curves of her body were delineated. Stopping short of a noticeable leer, he discreetly traced those curves with his gaze, wishing it were with his hands instead.
“Fine.” She dipped her tea bag in her mug. “Busy.”
Not a woman of many words.
Licking her lips, she took a step forward to go around him. “I should be getting back to my office.”
The scent of her light floral perfume and the warmer fragrance of her body wafted over him. “You smell incredible.”
She froze, spine rigid, her only movement the now double-time dunking of her tea. If he didn’t know better, he’d say her expression was hurt. He was willing to admit that yesterday, when he’d commented on her figure, his words had come out wrong, but now he could only conclude that the lady didn’t take flattery well. She ducked her head, and her long wavy hair fell over her shoulder in a dark curtain, partially obscuring her face.
“I meant it in the complimentary sense,” he said.
“Yes. I know.”
“I thought women liked it when men notice personal details and comment.”
“Maybe some do.” She looked up then, her eyes steely. “Personally, I’ve had my fill of handsome charmers with ulterior motives.”
“Now hold on a second.” Noticing the way her skirt hugged her tight perfect derriere wasn’t a motive. He’d get back to that handsome and charming part later. “I—”
“I apologize.” She exhaled, her shoulders rounding. “You said something kind, and I was rude.”
More defensive than rude, and her eyes reflected a vulnerability that seemed an odd reaction to a comment on her perfume.
Justin told himself to end this exchange and forget it ever happened. After the responsibilities of the last few years, responsibilities that unofficially ended tomorrow night, he’d earned the right to uncomplicated fun. Olivia’s changing moods and mixed signals screamed complications.
A man with any brains would ask Diane out when he got back from South Carolina. He’d been caught off guard by Kate’s dinner invitation and reflexively said yes, but she seemed like a sweet kid who needed an equally sweet boyfriend. Justin was looking for something a little less lasting—simple, clear-cut, adult enjoyment.
He looked into Olivia’s soft gray eyes, and desire tightened his body. Too bad he didn’t think the offer of no-strings fun would appeal to her.
“Maybe I should be the one apologizing,” he said, “if my remarks were too personal for the workplace.”
“No, I overreacted. I’ve been…never mind. Maybe you really are a nice guy.”
“Just ‘maybe’?” he teased, giving her a look of mock-indignation.
She laughed, and the husky sound affected him even more viscerally than when he’d overheard it yesterday, because this time he’d won it from her. Her open, welcoming expression was unexpected and transformed her from attractive to so sexy his breath caught.
He held the door open, and as she passed by, she tossed one last smile over her shoulder. “I really am sorry if I’ve been curt. I’m glad we’re going to be working together, Justin.”
So was he. Particularly if he got to work with this Olivia, not the one behind the guarded mask. He’d just have to see what he could do to keep this Olivia around more often.
3
WEDNESDAY EVENING, long after the daily noise of the office had dropped to just a few remaining employees shutting down their computers, Jeanie poked her head through the doorway to Olivia’s office. “I’m about to take off.”
Olivia waggled her fingers in a half wave. “See you tomorrow.” Unfortunately. No sunny Kaokara for her.
The blonde hovered indecisively, fidgeting until Olivia finally asked, “Something else I can do for you?”
“Are you sure you don’t want to come to dinner with us? Albert’s brother is very nice.”
“Thanks anyway, but I’m just going to head home.”
Having made one last failed effort at the double date, Jeanie nodded. The other woman was gone before Olivia could admit anything stupid—such as, she’d be a lousy dinner date with Justin Hawthorne on her mind.
Could he really be the exception womankind hoped for, the stunningly sexy man who was still a nice guy? After their brief interlude in the breakroom yesterday, she’d chided herself for having painted him with the same brush as Sean just because he was good-looking. So he and Kate were having dinner sometime after the shoot, that was hardly grounds for labeling him Womanizer of the Year.
Her stomach growled, turning her thoughts from Justin’s future dinner plans to her own immediate ones. She gathered her belongings and took the elevator down to her car, looking forward to food and a relaxing bath. About halfway to her apartment, however, she realized that she’d finished off her emergency store of groceries the night before. The sole contents of her fridge were wilted lettuce and half-empty condiment bottles of everything from lime juice to Worcestershire sauce.
Deli takeout it is, then.
By the time she pulled into a parking garage close to her favorite downtown delicatessen, she was starving. She hurried across the sidewalk, her trench coat not completely protecting her from the crisp evening air. As she waited at the intersection for oncoming traffic to stop, she shot an envious sidelong glance toward the expensive four-star restaurant on the corner.
Lacking an occasion big enough to justify the price tag, she’d never dined there. Now, she unconsciously pressed a hand to her empty stomach and fantasized about the meals lucky patrons were enjoying inside. She covertly studied the candlelit booths on the other side of the thick glass window and tried not to feel too much like a gastronomical Peeping Tom.
Justin.
Her jaw dropped as she did a double take. Yes, that was definitely Justin Hawthorne inside.
Aware she was staring openly, Olivia snapped her gaze to the blinking red upraised hand across the street. But a quick glance back showed Justin hadn’t noticed her. His attention was fully devoted to the beautiful blonde seated across from him, a slim young woman in a little black dress.
The blonde reached across the table for Justin’s hand, and anger churned in the pit of Olivia’s stomach. She’d rescheduled her vacation for a dinner date! She should be in South Carolina tonight and en route to her vacation Friday, but Justin had ruined that with his “emergency.”
The sign on the other side of the crosswalk finally changed, flashing the picture of a stick-figure pedestrian, and she marched forward, fuming. She wasn’t an unreasonable woman. If tonight’s date had been, for instance, an anniversary or a marriage proposal, she could’ve understood. But if the blonde was a serious girlfriend, what was he doing flirting with Diane and making dinner plans with Kate?
Either leading on the poor sweet kid from HR, or taking a leaf from Sean’s book and cheating on his girlfriend.
Fists clenched, Olivia entered the deli. As the warm air and aroma of fresh-baked bread hit her, she realized she didn’t actually have much of an appetite left. She’d spent all day castigating herself for hastily judging him, telling herself that his being attractive wasn’t a crime. She’d apologized to him, made a point of being extra friendly when she’d seen him in the parking garage this morning—only to learn he was like too many other men, interested in beautiful women and his own selfish pleasure. Forget work or any inconvenience to anyone else’s life.
Her first self-protective instincts about Justin Hawthorne had been right. Every inch The Guy, a creature with more testosterone than conscience, he should have a bright orange warning label smacked across his forehead. Why couldn’t she learn once and for all to stop pushing aside prudence in favor of a handsome smile?
JUSTIN WALKED into the dim smoky interior of Hewitt’s Bar shortly before midnight. Although he’d need to get out of bed before dawn to drive Andrea to the airport, he’d been restless after they’d returned from dinner, so he’d called his friend Bryan Tanner to meet for a couple of beers and a game of pool. On the weekend, when management brought a DJ in, Hewitt’s was a popular spot to socialize and meet women. In the middle of the week, business was slightly slower, and it was a great place to come for a quick drink.
Lifting his gaze to the television set above the bar that was broadcasting the day’s sports highlights, Justin waited for his chance to order. He’d drink to getting his life back. Tomorrow, his nineteen-year-old-sister Andrea would leave for a prestigious cooking school in Europe. His obligation would be fulfilled.
When his parents had been killed in a boating accident shortly after his twenty-second birthday, Justin had taken on the unexpected responsibility of raising his two sisters. A decade older than Andrea, with Lisa in the middle, he’d made a lot of unplanned changes to his young bachelor life to set a good example and supplement the life insurance settlement to provide for his sisters. He loved them both dearly, but over the years, whenever the situation had been especially stressful, he’d repeatedly vowed that as soon as he had the house to himself, he would make up for lost time.
That started tomorrow. Lisa was in a co-op program at Auburn, with a job lined up after next year’s graduation, and now Andy was headed abroad.
A woman shuffling a round plastic tray jostled him. “Hey, handsome. Don’t usually see you in here so late.”
He smiled at the blond waitress—Natalie, if he recalled correctly. “I had something to celebrate.”
“You’ll be here all night if you wait on Kurt.” She nodded to the other side of the room where the bartender was taking his time mixing a drink for an attractive patron. “Have a seat in my section, and I’ll bring something over.”
Justin asked for a draft beer, then chose an empty booth against the wall. His future loomed promising and new, devoid of helping anyone with homework, having awkward discussions about dating or attending sports events and milestone ceremonies that their parents should have been here to see.
Natalie sauntered up to his table with a full frosty mug. “So what are we celebrating?”
The freedom to walk around at home stark naked if he felt like it, the freedom not to worry that he was a lousy day-to-day role model. “New job.”
Freelance photography hadn’t been dependable enough for a man raising two sisters and the travel that had excited him became an obstacle. He’d taken a job in design at Hilliard, but had jumped at the chance to join Sweet Nothings now that they were expanding. On-staff photographers were costly, and Justin, though his portfolio displayed his talent, lacked the experience other candidates could have used to negotiate more money.
“Good for you,” Natalie congratulated him. “Drink’s on the house, then.”
“You don’t have to do that,” he said, knowing “on the house” probably meant out of her pocket.
“Honey, you’d be surprised what I pull down in tips. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m a good-looking woman,” she said with a grin.
“Trust me, I noticed. I’m guessing your boss would object to your sharing a drink with me right now…maybe another time?”
“Ah, but see, that my boyfriend would object to.”
“Boyfriend, huh?” He lifted the mug. “Then I’m no longer celebrating. I’m officially drowning my sorrows.”
She laughed. “Beer’s nice and multipurpose that way. Don’t worry, a guy who looks like you won’t be lonely long. You never know,” she added before moving toward the next table, “maybe you’ll meet someone at this new job.”
Olivia Lockhart’s face came to mind, but he banished it immediately. Never gonna happen. Despite finding their way to friendlier ground in the breakroom yesterday and chatting amiably in the parking garage this morning, he still couldn’t imagine Olivia agreeing to meet him for drinks. She’d find a polite way to turn him down, then avoid him around the office.
“Hey, buddy.” Bryan Tanner, rumpled and grinning as ever, slid in on the other side of the booth, making quick eye contact with Natalie as she passed.
Justin nodded in greeting. “What’s with the lumberjack look?”
His dark-haired friend didn’t truly look like a lumberjack, but the flannel shirt and unshaven stubble along his jaw invited taunting. Heckling each other unofficially cemented their friendship, and since Bryan so often won by default of actually having a life, Justin took his shots where he could get them.
“Go ahead, make fun if you want,” Bryan said with a sly smile, “but the ladies love the casual look.”
The ladies obviously loved something because Justin’s friend never hurt for dates.
Bryan did lucrative contract work setting up network systems all over the country, but between jobs, he roosted in Atlanta. While Justin would never come out and say anything so touchy-feely, he was grateful for the way his friend had stayed in contact despite the traveling. Other ex-college buddies had drifted off sooner, unable to relate to Justin’s sudden domestic crises and raising two young women in the suburbs. Watching Bryan bounce around from place to place, coming home to a different woman each visit, Justin had often envied his friend’s life.
“I don’t get it.” Justin shook his head. “You’re a glorified computer nerd. Do you pay women to spend time with you, or are they compelled by pity?”
Bryan grinned. “It’s all that talk about my hardware. Master and slave drives are nice openers, too.”
Natalie edged up to the table with a bottle of Bryan’s regular beer.
“Thank you, sweet thing. Tell me you aren’t still seeing that boyfriend of yours.”
