Accidental Rivals_An Office Romance Read online

  I ought to feel bad for leaving him on his own. I know I should. There are still plenty of interested people with plenty of questions for us, but there are things I need to take care of. Things he doesn’t need to know about.

  It’s not like a half-hour is going to kill him. He’s been coasting throughout this week. A little hard work, a little hustle, will be good for him.

  Sienna

  Hours later, we’re in the same house, but we may as well be on another planet. The backdrop has changed that much. This is my biggest move, the one that always results in either a sale or at least a ton of new connections. And Zack has no idea, which is the best part of all.

  “Okay, ladies!” I hold up my martini glass, signaling for quiet. I recognize many of the faces around me but there are at least a half-dozen strangers, which is very good. Fresh meat.

  And maybe new friends, too. That’s always nice.

  “To a lovely evening in a fabulous house,” I toast, clinking my glass with a few of the other women around me. “Now, manis and pedis have been set up in the library; and makeup and hair in the family room. We have a double feature in the media room: Notting Hill and The Notebook.” I learned a while back no matter how tough a woman is in the boardroom, she can appreciate a bit of romance on her night off. “You know where to find the drinks and food. The kitchen’s fully stocked, but please feel free to ask for anything that seems to be running low. I know I’ll be scarfing down the mini egg rolls, so hands off.”

  Everybody laughs before dispersing, moving to the areas they’re interested in. The chatter is encouraging. I’ve never had a martini go down so smooth before. I deserve it after all the hard work I’ve put into this evening. It’s not just my male clients that I understand. I understand women too, having been one all my life. And I know there’s nothing more fun than a night spent with the girls and they appreciate the chance to relax.

  I always encourage my longtime friends and favorite clients to bring friends with them, especially if they’re friends I’ve never met before. These are some seriously kickass women here, investment geniuses, CEOs, Presidents and I know that at least two of them are seriously looking for a trophy home.

  I think what I enjoy the most about nights like this ‒ aside from the chance to sell a house, of course ‒ is the fact that I can be myself around them. I don’t have to tone myself down or make myself smaller in order to protect their egos. I don’t have to pretend to be someone I’m not, just to come off as likeable.

  Though I do my best to be likeable, obviously.

  “Laughter sounds good in this house,” I observe with a smile, walking into the room where five women are sitting at portable manicure stations with their feet soaking.

  Crystal, a past client I’ve stayed in close touch with over the years, sips from her Chablis before agreeing. “I was just commenting on how perfect this house is for big holiday parties. Can you imagine? It would be spectacular.”

  Oh, thank God for her. I might have to send her flowers for that little comment. She knows just how to help me out. “You’re so right. Every time I step through the front door, I imagine what a gigantic Christmas tree would look like under the chandelier.” I leave the room on that note, letting the girls imagine for themselves.

  The hair and makeup room is much the same, with giggling filtering out into the hall. “Anybody need a refill in here?” I ask, poking my head in the door.

  “Why don’t you come in and relax a little with us?” Melissa, another old friend and client says. One of my first sales, now that I think about it.

  “Is this your way of nicely telling me I need a makeover?” I ask with a wink.

  “Please!” she shouts over the chorus of laughter which has erupted. “I should be so in need of a makeover. You look like you just walked off a film set. Do you even have pores?”

  I’m about to make a joke at my own expense, but something interrupts me. Yup, the utter darkness the house plunges into when the power goes out.

  “No flipping way,” I whisper to myself before raising my voice to be heard. “It’s all right, I’m sure it’s just a blown fuse. No problem! I’ll go out and check the fuse box.”

  Meanwhile, the words running through my head aren’t quite so calm or confident. What the hell is this? Why tonight? Why right now? My best-case scenario would be a blown fuse.

  The worst? I don’t even want to think about it. I went to too much trouble for things to go south so early in the evening.

  Using my phone as a flashlight, I step out through the back door and walk around to the side of the house, where I know the fuse box is located inside an attached tool shed. It’s full darkness out here, moonless, without even many visible stars.

  I don’t need a moon to be able to see what’s pulling away, off by the woods at the edge of the property.

  A sports car. A rather splashy one. A car which has no business being here right now and whose driver seems to be in an awful hurry to get away.

  Zack. Damn him to hell.

  How did he find out? He didn’t really need to be sneaky about it. He could’ve just shown up to check on things and found us. The dick.

  And sure enough, all that needs to be done to bring the lights back is flipping the breaker. He’s so basic in his sabotage. Did he imagine being a girl, I wouldn’t know how to flip a switch. Now, I’m more certain than ever that he did something to make the house stink the night I brought Mark over. How juvenile can he be?

  My hand reaches for the breaker.

  I stop myself just before flipping it.

  Maybe there’s another way.

  Sienna

  “I knew I remembered seeing a million candles in the basement.” I chuckle on lighting the last of the many the girls helped me set up in the library. “Mani/pedi by candlelight. I only regret that we can’t show the movies now.” There were only two or three women in there at the time the power went out, anyway. Most everyone was more interested in a night of beauty.

  We’ve moved everything to the library, which is more than big enough for all of us, and even though the hair stylists can’t do their blowouts, they can still create classy up-do’s and fun, cute styles the women all seem to love.

  The room is absolutely gorgeous with the light from the candles flickering off the walls while the mood is cozy, warm and full of girl talk. If anything, it’s better than before.

  Best of all…it looks like I handled the situation with panache and grace, and that I know how to make lemonade out of a pile of lemons. All of this is working in my favor.

  I ought to send flowers to Zack, too, while I’m ordering an arrangement for Crystal. Wouldn’t that burn him up? I won’t even explain why. I’ll just send a “thank you” card with them.

  The thought makes me smile as the girls gossip about their work and their men, and in some cases how long it’s been since they’ve gotten any. I know how that goes—boy, do I—but I can’t speak up. Unprofessional. I settle for smiling and nodding, laughing in the right places, answering questions about the house as they come my way.

  And sipping another martini. Because I deserve it.

  Crystal catches my eye and points to one of the girls, who happens to be walking toward me. Her name is Faye, I remember, and she’s one of Crystal’s friends. An interior designer with her own thriving business and a very rich boyfriend. “Do you have a second?” she whispers.

  “Of course. What can I do for you?”

  “I just wanted to let you know that I’m very interested,” she murmurs with a smile. “We’re all having so much fun, I almost hate to break it up by talking about business.”

  “But that’s also what we’re here for.” I grin. “I mean, ultimately. I wanted everyone to see this place, because it’s incredible. I want it to go to a nice person, especially someone who will know what to do with it. Because it has so much potential.”

  Her eyes go round. “Oh, I’ve been imagining for an hour now how I would decorate it!”

&nbs
p; There’s so much giggling going on, including between Faye and me, that I almost miss the sound of the front door opening. A latecomer? No, it’s far too late for that.

  My heart sinks when one, then two male voices ring out in the entryway. I should’ve seen this one coming. Why didn’t I?

  “What’s going on in here?” Zack steps into the library, all smiles, followed by an almost supernaturally tall man who I think might be a professional basketball player. If he’s not, he ought to be.

  Zack must feel the weight of my stare—more like a glare—because he turns to me right away. “What happened? No power?”

  This dick. This unfathomable dick. “No, we’re fine.” I smile broadly. “Just a little flub with the fuse box. But it gave me the idea to set up the candles, and we’ve been having a great time.”

  His face darkens a bit, but that might just be a trick of the candlelight as it flickers. Then, he smiles. “That’s nice. I’m glad to know my friend and I can walk through with no trouble.”

  But his friend doesn’t seem to care much about the house anymore. He’s more interested in the nearly two dozen women hanging out around the library—and they are interested right back, whispering and nudging each other and making eyes at him like they just got back from several years on a desert island.

  Not surprising, they’re even more interested in Zack. I bite my tongue before I have the chance to tell them not to stroke his ego. He doesn’t need any help with that.

  “Hello, ladies.” He grins, his voice warm and friendly. Naturally, he’s picked up on the energy in the room.

  God, I hate him so much.

  “I didn’t know boys were allowed to this party,” Faye murmurs, raising an eyebrow.

  I want to wave my arms in front of her face and remind her of what we were just discussing before the interruption. I fear the moment is gone and I need to find a way to rope her in again, but it won’t be possible while she’s looking Zack up and down like he’s a slice of juicy steak.

  “Technically, there aren’t,” I manage to growl through clenched teeth.

  “I would’ve steered clear had I know there was a party,” Zack points out.

  His smile is a little too tight, but something tells me I’m the only person who notices. The ladies are too busy being dazzled by the outer package to pick up on what’s going on between us. “Something tells me you wouldn’t have,” I hiss at the back of his head as he allows Crystal and one of the others to usher him further into the room, offering him the food and drink I worked so hard to bring together. How does he keep managing to do this? How does he always come out on top, or close to it?

  I was so close to getting Faye on the hook, too. Now, she’s peppering Zack’s tall buddy with questions about his life while shooting longing looks in Zack’s direction. Looks like she’s forgotten all about her boyfriend. Meanwhile, Zack is busy fending off no fewer than three of the girls, all of whom are feeling sassy and sexy thanks to new makeup and too much wine.

  And oh, he’s lapping it up like a dish of cream. That’s the worst part of all. It’s not enough that he ruined my girl’s night. Now, he has to spike the ball by flirting shamelessly. If I hear him mention one more time how lucky he is to be in the middle of so many beautiful ladies, I’ll throw up.

  I might make sure to be close to him when I do, too. He deserves it.

  It’s a relief when things start to wrap up a half hour later. I feel unfulfilled, let down, though Faye did promise to call me in the morning. Maybe she’ll be able to focus when Zack isn’t around. I wish I were as lucky as her, with the chance to leave and never see him again. I air kiss them all goodbye and close the door.

  Sienna

  “Need some help?” Zack asks as I begin cleaning up. He leans against the wall by the door, hands in the pockets of his jeans. Even in casual clothes, he looks like a million bucks. The candlelight is so not helping matters. He looks sexy. Smoldering.

  “You’ve helped more than enough, thanks,” I mutter, turning my back to him so I won’t have to see him anymore. There are too many conflicting opinions battling for domination in my head and other parts of my body somewhat further south.

  “At least let me go out there and turn on the lights.”

  I manage to snort instead of screaming. “You ought to know how it’s done, since you’re the one who turned them off.”

  “It was a dirty trick you pulled. You left me here today, and for what? So you could plan this for tonight?”

  “What about it?” I demand, tossing a handful of crumpled napkins into a garbage bag. “Like you haven’t done anything dirty to me. Nice stink bombs, by the way.”

  He lets this roll off his back, like he expected me to figure out it was him.

  Gee, does he actually respect my intelligence? Or maybe he wanted me to know. I wouldn’t be surprised.

  “That’s what you get for going behind my back.”

  “Like you did with Kent, you mean?” I offer my nastiest smile. “Is selling this house on your own really that important to you? Or is winning all that really matters?”

  “I could ask you the same question.”

  “Listen up.” I drop the bag on the floor, hands on my hips. “Let’s finish this now. You’re the one who set the tone in this arrangement by telling me to dump the listing.”

  “I didn’t tell you to do anything,” he argues. “I suggested.”

  “Bullshit,” I snarl. “I was ready to be professional. Civil. To work with you. You’re the one who started this, and now you have the nerve to get mad at me for turning the tables on you. Maybe you’ll remember how it sucks to be on the receiving end of that sort of treatment the next time you want to work your wiles on a woman.”

  “Is that what this is about?” he asks, eyebrows almost shooting up off his forehead.

  “What?”

  “Working my wiles?” He chuckles, stepping away from the wall. “Did you think I was flirting with you? Did you expect more where that came from? And now you’re disappointed?”

  “No! Don’t make me laugh. All I meant was, you thought you could muscle me out of it. Then, you thought your charm would do the trick. Sorry to disappoint you, but I’m not as naïve as the women you charmed tonight.”

  “Look who’s talking!” He laughs, coming closer, fists still jammed in his pockets. He blinks rapidly, fluttering his eyelashes. “Oh, Kent, you’re so funny!” he coos, sarcasm dripping from his voice.

  “I never once said that.”

  He drops the imitation, sneering. “Maybe not in so many words, but don’t pretend you didn’t use what you have to your advantage as you tried to steal my client. Didn’t work so well for you, did it?”

  “I don’t know. If I hadn’t turned him down when he asked me to dinner, things might have gone a lot better.”

  He frowns, but only for a moment. “He asked you to dinner?”

  “Yes. And I turned him down, because I have principles. In case you didn’t know.”

  “Huh.” He nods, his eyes moving over me before a slow smile spreads over his face. “It’s not a surprise, though. I would never expect you to go through with the show you put on.”

  I swear, I can’t explain why that comment or that taunting grin makes my blood boil even if there was a gun to my head and somebody demands I figure it out. All I know is, I want to slap him for it. I know I should walk away. Not dignify that silly remark, but I can’t. “Why not? You think I’m made of stone? You think I’m not woman enough to follow up on what I hint at?”

  “Something like that,” he murmurs, taking another step my way.

  My heart is pounding so hard, so fast, I can barely breathe. It’s rage… so I tell myself. It couldn’t possibly be the fact that we’re now only a few feet from each other and the flickering glow of the candles makes him look sexier and more mysterious than I’ve ever seen him. Or the way he stares at me, his eyes hooded to conceal his expression, his lips so tempting...

  “You’re wrong,” I b
reathe. “You don’t know me at all.”

  “No,” he agrees, closing the gap between us.

  I can feel the heat coming from his body, which is almost touching mine.

  “I don’t know you. And I can’t decide if that’s a good thing, or…”

  My breath catches. “Or?”

  “Or if I want to know everything about you. Every last thing.”

  I don’t have time to think or even move before he takes my face in his hands and pulls me to him, crushing our mouths together. There’s no tenderness in his kiss, no hesitation. We’re like two cars colliding, smashing into each other, tearing each other apart.

  My fingers turn into claws which grip his shoulders—so firm, so thick—before my arms wind around his neck. I’m not just holding onto him, keeping him close as our mouths move together and he kisses me until it almost hurts. I’m holding myself up, because my legs are too weak to support me.

  His arms close around my back, pulling me, pressing my body to his from head to toe and I lean into him. Oh God, yes! Yes, this is what I need. I need his hands stroking my back, I need his tongue sweeping slowly along the inside of my mouth. I need the fire growing in my core as his muscles move under my hands—shoulders, arms, back, all of it so warm and hard.

  Hard like what’s pressing against my thigh as we sink to the floor, his excitement as evident as mine, as hard as the floor under my back, as I stretch out under him, our breaths coming in short gasps as his hands slide under my sweater. One of them cups my breast as his mouth trails warm, wet kisses down my throat. I’m totally lost, fingers tangling in his hair, his name coming from my mouth again and again in a hoarse whisper, “Zack…oh, Zack…”

  “So fucking sweet,” he groans, thrusting his hips against me and driving his hard length into my thigh.

  It sends shivers down my spine and making the heat between my thighs burn hotter. As hot as the flames of the candles burning all around us.

  I can’t believe this is happening. But it was always going to, wasn’t it? Yes, and this is the perfect place. It makes sense, doing it here, the place which brought us together. I wrap a leg around his, my skirt riding up, my body writhing of its own accord, moving toward what it wants most. Him. All of him, all over me.