But she was saved from making a fool of herself when Chantelle stalked through the door, flinging it open with a bang that made everyone jump, then slamming it shut behind her. Her office building was just down the road from theirs, and she had a finely tuned bitch radar.
Taylor felt the familiar tightening in her chest that she always did when she saw Chantelle these days. Chantelle looked perfectly healthy – for now.
I can’t lose her. I won’t lose her.
“Excuse you,” Chantelle snapped at Brandii. “Did someone just order a can of whoop-ass?”
Chantelle and Brandii had been foes since high school, when Brandii had lost her spot on the cheerleading squad to Chantelle. She’d tried to get revenge by spreading rumors that Chantelle was doing everyone on the football squad; Chantelle had settled that score after school behind the bleachers, and forced Brandii to admit she’d lied, under threat of a daily ass-beating.
“Try it,” squeaked Brandii, but she ducked behind Shelley. Shelley looked annoyed and stepped aside. There were no real friends on the bully squad.
“Your friend isn’t allowed in here,” Shelley complained to Taylor. “She’s trespassing. Make her go away.”
“My father sent me to make sure that our cleaning crew did a good job. Obviously they left some trash behind,” Chantelle said, smiling without warmth. Chantelle’s father owned the janitorial services company that cleaned the Bronson office building, among others.
Shelley looked around in confusion, searching for stray pieces of litter. Then finally the meaning of the insult dawned on her. “Did you just call us trash?” she demanded indignantly. “She called us trash,” she complained to Brandii.
“Oh. My. God. How does she walk and chew gum at the same time?” Chantelle marveled.
Before they could say anything else, the front door banged open and it felt as if the very air in the room had changed. It was like static electricity before a storm – a crackling awareness that danced over Taylor’s skin, making her shiver.
Cliff swept through the door and stood there, larger than life, filling the room with his presence. Taylor thought she felt her heart actually stutter in her chest.
She immediately took back her high opinion of her powers of imagination – the Cliff of her sticky-fingered dreams was a cheap, bargain-basement knock-off compared to the real thing. He was even taller and more commanding than she remembered. Those astonishing eyes, thickly fringed with lashes, weren’t just the color of whiskey – they were as intoxicating, too, making her feel dizzy and silly. And there was something else. Even though he was standing several paces away, he smelledso good. She had to bite her lip to keep from whimpering with want. She told herself sternly that it would not be professional to sniff, nuzzle or snuffle at an important client. Then she told herself even more sternly to get a grip. Why was she thinking about the way hesmelled?
He was accompanied by a tall, lean man in his fifties, his brown hair shot through with gray.
Cliff’s cold gaze swept the women clustered around the desk. “What the hell is going on here?” he snapped, and Taylor felt the anger flowing from him, like a physical force pulsing in the air.
Chapter Two
Shelley and Brandii glanced at each other in confusion.
“Why are you two standing behind Taylor’s desk? You don’t have offices?” Cliff continued.
Shelley flinched at the harsh tone. She and Brandii quickly backed away from Taylor’s desk, turned their backs to her, and began primping and simpering.
“You look wonderful, Cliff. It’s soooo good to see you again,” Shelley cooed to Cliff, fluttering her eyelashes. “And James. As handsome as ever. How’s the family? Your wife is a lucky woman,” she added to the man standing next to Cliff. His brow wrinkled in annoyance and he ignored her question.
Shelley shot a quick look at Taylor, who struggled to maintain her composure. This was the first time Cliff had ever visited their office in person, so when had he met Shelley? And not only that, Shelley knew the man with Cliff – well enough to ask after his family?
When had Shelley met him? She traveled a lot, visiting clients around the country and even overseas. Maybe she saw him on her work trips? Taylor didn’t even know exactly where Cliff lived – somewhere in North Dakota, a few hours from the factory, but that was all she knew. Shelley probably knew. Maybe she’d even visited him in person. Maybe she knew him well. Knew himintimately.
Shelley’s gleeful smirk said that she knew she’d scored a major point against Taylor.
Cliff, however, wasn’t as happy to see Shelley as she was to see him. He flashed an impatient look at her, then focused his attention on Taylor. His amber eyes did that thing where they seemed to peer into her heart, her mind and her soul – but it was even more disconcerting in person.
Heat curled low in her belly, coiling and settling like smoke. She felt her nipples tightening eagerly against the satin of her bra, and blushed hard from a combination of arousal and embarrassment. She knew she must be gazing at him like a lovesick puppy, but she couldn’t seem to help it. If he told her to lie down, roll over, and beg, she probably would.
“Taylor was trying to make herself pretty for you,” Brandii said eagerly, in her best grade-school tattle-tale voice.
“Well someone had to.” Cliff’s tone was bored, and his cutting reply slashed through Brandii like a machete. Taylor could practically see her inflated ego deflate like a punctured balloon.
“Oh, snap,” Chantelle said cheerfully. “Solid burn. That was worthy ofme.”
Despite the tension of the moment, Taylor stifled a laugh behind her hand.
Brandii blinked hard, then appeared to recover. “We haven’t met before. I’m Brandii. With two iis,” she said proudly, as if having that extra “i” in her name was a major accomplishment. She arched her back to make sure that Cliff got a good look at her plunging cleavage.
