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He was already on his way out the door.
…
Monday morning, Vicky approached Cory’s closed office door with her usual full-on swagger. Well, almost. That she wore ice-pick boots and carried a special surprise for her pseudo-boyfriend only slowed her down slightly. Her nerves slowed her down more.
She’d worked so hard to shed her rep as the town bad girl, and now with just a few pictures she was right back in the thick of it. Partially by choice.
That morning she’d awakened to a phone call from Jill, even before their scheduled breakfast meeting to discuss that week’s design consultations. Her BFF had wanted to clue Vicky in about the photos just in case she still hadn’t heard the gossip column chatter. No chance of that. Shortly after Cory left last night, her sister Melly had called from her location-scouting trip upstate to ask her what the hell she was doing. It was an excellent question.
Why was she doing this again?
It wasn’t just about the photos. Oh sure, reputation preservation always counted as a valid reason, but that wasn’t the only one. Cory needed help. He needed her. The guy was running on fumes and his showing up late looking like death’s dark-headed stepchild had driven that point home. They were friends, right? Sort of. In a manner of speaking. And not-exactly-friends assisted each other.
Heck, maybe she’d even bring some fun into his staid existence. While doing so, she would also avail herself of all potential sexual opportunities in his direction, just to cross another item off her bucket list. Doing an uptight smerd—smexy nerd—check!
Vicky adjusted her portfolio and knocked. She was a few minutes late for their standard twice-weekly appointment to work on the magazine, so she wasn’t surprised that he barked at her to come in.
She opened the door and stepped inside.
Because he looked way too tired still, she kicked up her leg on the edge of his desk and noted the grind of his teeth with grim satisfaction. “Like the boots? The stiletto heels are a little much, but I managed.”
“Your boots are fine. As is your skirt.” He barely spared either a glance, nor did he come around the desk to shut the door in case of bloodshed. Remarkable. “That slit in the side isn’t terribly appropriate for work, but since when has that stopped you?”
She pulled down her foot. “Oopsie, I left my Miss Manners manual at home. Thank God I have you to set me straight.”
“Speaking of setting things straight…” He folded his hands and gazed down his nose at her as if he were her professor and she were a naughty student. Which she totally could be in this getup. She even had a ruler in her portfolio. “We need to talk.”
She sprawled in the chair across from his desk. “Yammer away.”
“Yesterday you offered me sex,” he said, as if she’d forgotten. She certainly hadn’t tossed and turned all night thinking about just that. “Which I’m assuming you’ve reconsidered.”
Like a jack-in-the-box, she popped up and shut the door. “Correction: I offered to act as your girlfriend for a limited-time engagement. And we both could benefit, if you feel me.”
“I don’t want to feel you. That’s part of the issue.”
Hmm, did he realize that his jaw was twitching? Because she certainly did. “So take one for the team.”
More twitching. “Victoria, this isn’t a joke.”
“Who’s laughing?” She rolled up the mass of jingling bracelets on her wrist. “Call it curiosity. We’ve been dancing around each other for so many years that maybe it’s just the next step. Besides, you’re the one who keeps bringing up the sex thing. We could pretend to be all kissy-face without screwing. That was your optional add-on.”
His teeth ground together in a way that wouldn’t please his dentist. “We certainly could, as we’re not teenagers led around by our hormones.” His eyes glittered. “Despite that unfortunate encounter in the gazebo.”
Vicky tried not to snarl. “Unfortunate, huh?”
As usual, he didn’t deign to give her a response. “But playing devil’s advocate, say the worst were to happen due to spending time together or whatnot.”
“Or whatnot.” She rolled her eyes. ”Oh God, let me go wring out my panties.”
She’d even worn some today. She was a respectable businesswoman and all.
“We’re not talking about grabbing a pizza. We’re talking about you and I becoming lovers. Do you understand the implications of that?”
His exasperation almost made her laugh as she looked down at herself. She wasn’t icily gorgeous like Melly—not “perfect” by any stretch of the imagination—but was she really that repugnant to him?
“Figures you’d clam up now.” He pulled on his perfectly knotted tie. If she didn’t know better, she’d think she made him nervous. “How long has it been for you?”
For a moment, she didn’t get the question. She was too busy gauging if her stomach poufed out more than it had the last time she’d checked. But then…
