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It’s okay, you knew it was a possibility—a slim one, but still. That’s why there’s plan B.
Maribel quickly followed up with a promising lead with an entertainment magazine.
* * *
“Get me an exclusive on Jim Craig and maybe we can work something out,” the crisp redhead said with a slight smirk, her eyes having already dismissed Mari as they returned to her computer screen.
Light feminine laughter followed her statement as a curvy blonde strolled in and handed the redhead some papers, so it was obviously a long shot, but Maribel started to feel hopeful that something had been thrown out there. Anytime someone gave her a challenge, her desire to beat it usually meant that she did.
Maribel turned to leave and found herself in step with the blonde—presumably the redhead’s assistant.
“Jim Craig?” Maribel repeated questioningly.
The blonde shook her head, a wry smile on her face.
“Only the most eligible billionaire bachelor in the tri-state area. Don’t get your hopes up, though—I heard rumors he’s getting married later tonight, so…”
She shrugged, disappearing through a door on the left.
So what her boss was actually saying was, don’t bother coming back.
Maribel’s shoulders sagged.
Over the past few days, she discovered lots of people were willing to take her on as an unpaid intern.
But how was experience getting people’s coffee supposed to pay her rent?
Already, she had an overpriced tiny apartment, and she couldn’t believe people happily paid so much for so little space.
She took a few breaths.
She had been putting so much pressure on herself the past few days that she was starting to feel it in aches and pains all over her body.
She was still confident she’d be able to find other opportunities, but for now, after that nerve-wracking flight from Alabama, the tension in her body over the days preceding her devastating interview, this move to a new, fast-moving place—she needed to allow herself time to regroup.
Possibly go out somewhere and grab a drink.
Get distracted by sights and sounds of other people’s lives.
Who knew? Maybe she could pick up on some story while out there—the quirk of an eyebrow or a clandestine glance alerting her to something she might be able to chew on and spin into gold.
Nope! No work. Just take a load off. There’s still stuff to celebrate; after all, you made it! You took a leap. And now you’re here, ready to start the next chapter—whatever it brings.
She returned to her apartment, freshened up, and changed.
She decided she didn’t want to look too available; dodging bedroom propositions did not sound like a good night.
Plus, she didn’t need a string of men hitting on her to feed her ego after being rejected by her most promising job opportunity. She just needed to clear her head.
Sure, it had been a while since she’d broken up with her one and only boyfriend, but she wasn’t the kind of girl who just shared her body with any guy who struck her fancy.
How best to turn men off yet still look nice? she wondered, then laughed to herself.
Unwashed-looking chicks wearing an actual paper bag would still get propositioned.
She decided to stop overthinking it and threw on a pair of jeans that fit her curves snugly, and an off-the-shoulder aquamarine top—still fairly conservative and a little sexy, exposing only her shoulders.
She kept her face made up the same, pinning one side of her dark, relaxed waves back with a gold pin.
When she assessed her final look, she knew she was asking for trouble—she managed to make herself look both innocent and naughty somehow.
Maybe she was subconsciously going for a salve of flattery after all.
Oh, well! Just go with it. Let’s see what happens.
* * *
Maribel had heard about this—a bunch of businessmen hanging out at bars after some convention or other.
There must have been one held nearby—the place seemed to be crawling with men in suits.
Her friend Annie had told her about it—as a convention hostess, she had traveled all over the country to various trade shows, mostly staffed by men with a few “booth babes” like her.
The “booth babes” always got invited to social events afterward, and married or not, everyone was pretty much down to fraternize.
“Not me, though,” Annie told her. “I never slept with any of those guys. You never knew who would inadvertently turn you into ‘the other woman.’ Guys sometimes take off their rings when traveling for the shows. Some don’t even bother and they’re still all, ’Want to go for a drink?’ Like, what? Not me. I’m not gonna be someone’s warm wet hole away from home.”
“Annie!”
“It’s true, though.”
Maribel could only giggle.
Despite her wild, curly hair, Annie generally looked demure, giving off the impression of being a lady, but anyone around her long enough got to hear her filthy mouth.
Maribel almost changed her mind, suddenly intimidated by the sheer number of men.
Come on, girl. Fortune favors the bold. Be brave. Be strong.
Courage and confidence were essential for what she wanted to do, so she might as well tackle it in every aspect of her life.
There was no place to be a shrinking violet.
She took a breath and charged up to the sliver of space at the bar, right next to a guy she’d been trying to keep her eyes off of.
All the while she’d been giving herself her pep talk, her eyes took him in from his immaculately-styled dark hair to the expensive-looking suit hugging his broad shoulders and back. Or was it a tux? He certainly looked like he could be a castaway from a wedding party instead of a convention attendee.
Either way, he was damned sexy, and no matter how much Maribel tried to pretend she was going to ignore him and just have a drink, everything in her kept reaching for him.
She might not have time for a man while sorting out her career, but she could have idle chats with them, couldn’t she? After all, it was practically a job requirement.
She reminded herself she had no driving to worry about, so she could drink as much or little as she wanted.
The man made space for her, and his striking green eyes briefly met hers, a slight casual smile on his chiseled face that seemed to freeze as he took her in.
She wondered at the swirl of emotions there.
As put-together as the man looked on the outside, he seemed to be a wreck.
“Lemon drop, please,“ she said to the bartender once she got his attention.
She had noticed
the handsome stranger was nursing something hard, neat. Probably Scotch. She was never really sure—she only got into ’girly drinks’ as Annie called them.
“Rough night, huh?“ she found herself saying.
His green eyes found hers again and he let out a little huff of air.
“You said it. Although I feel a hell of a lot better now than an hour ago.”
Maribel’s instincts pricked.
“What happened an hour ago?” she couldn’t help asking, trying to sound as casual as possible.
He stared at her a long time before answering, and just when she thought she was actually going to melt from the heat of his green gaze, he said, “I almost married the wrong woman.”
A number of sensations hit Maribel at once, but her mouth got ahead of her head, and before she started analyzing her own feelings, she said, “How on earth did that happen?”
He knocked back the rest of his drink.
“Long story,” he said, indicating another drink to the bartender.
When one door closes, another opens, her mother’s voice sang in her head.
“I am here for it,” Maribel said, almost unaware when her own drink was placed in front of her.
“Thanks,” the man said to the bartender on her behalf, embarrassing her a little since she never forgot her manners. But even then she couldn’t correct it—everything in her had zoned in on the gorgeous stranger; she needed to know what had gone down, even if just to hear how someone else’s day had ended up worse than hers.
She felt terrible for him, of course, but she was practically salivating as she waited for the sordid details.
She blamed her mother for whetting her appetite for scandal—all those soaps she had on in the background throughout the day. The dirty details of relationships of the pretty and rich.
Now she craved it—every hint of the unsavory perked her up.
“Actually, now that I think of it, it’s not that long a story,” he said, happily accepting his next drink.
Maribel smiled at him, blinking her eyes.
“I’m waiting patiently,” she nudged.
He gave her a warm smile, a smile that unexpectedly almost liquefied her insides, a smile that sent a raging sensation through her core.
