A Friendly Engagement (2 page)

“Happy anniversary. Forget the tattoo, next time enter it on my calendar. I’d have taken you to lunch.”

“No worries. I took the liberty of putting this delish dog on our company account. We’re square.” She wiggled her eyebrows, then popped the last tidbit of mustard-stained bun between her ruby red lips.

“Now I don’t feel so guilty, but we’ll still do lunch Monday.”

She shrugged. “Better yet, why not come out with me tonight? Not only will you risk the chance of actually cracking a smile in public and enjoying yourself, but you’ll get your mind off your troubles. I can tell you’re still thinking about Bartow.” She tossed her wrapper into the trash can as if she were a pro basketball player making a shot from across the court. “Score!”

“Maybe you’re in the wrong profession.” As soon as the words left his mouth he regretted them. He didn’t want to give her any ideas about moving on. Not only was she the best damn assistant he’d ever worked with, but he respected her work ethic, smarts, and ability to see outside the box he’d confined himself to. If she left, he’d be lost.

“I’m too short to play professionally. And quit trying to change the subject.” Devi poked him playfully in the chest, and then tugged his arm and pulled him through the glass doors and onto the sidewalk.

“What do you have planned? Dancing in the fountain, running barefoot through the streets, booking a last-minute flight to Vegas for the weekend to gamble away your paycheck?”

“If I thought I could ply you with enough liquor to get you to follow, I’d say yes to all the above.” Her laughter caught the attention of several people standing nearby, and they looked over with smiles of their own. “Nothing so dramatic this weekend, though. I’m thinking a drink at one of the places by the pier, maybe some dancing. Meeting some new friends. Who knows?”

He slipped out of her grasp. “Maybe another time. I have work to do.”

She covered her mouth with ring-laden fingers and faked a yawn. “Not a shocker. But let’s forget work tonight. You have to admit it’s impressive I’ve stuck it out for five years with a workaholic, slave-driving boss who forgets our anniversary every year.” She took hold of his upper arm with a grip he didn’t know she possessed and steered him past a twosome playing music on the sidewalk.

A blanket of twilight mixed with the subdued lighting from the various shops and streetlamps surrounding them. The cadence of all the sightseers, vendors, and locals filled every nook and cranny of the sidewalk and inside the bustling shops. Excitement vibrated across the cool night breeze. He breathed in the salty ocean air and relaxed for the first time all day. Funny that a lungful of clean air could loosen up his muscles in a way a neck rub couldn’t.

“I can tell you’re thinking about tagging along. Just go with it, enjoy a night out.” Devi’s voice buzzed with anticipation.

“I’m really not in the mood.”

She stopped and frowned up at him. Her eyes sparkled with a challenge. “You’ve been telling me ever since your dad passed you’d slow down and relax. Prove it. It’s a whole new world out here, one you haven’t experienced in far too long.”

“Should I start calling you Aladdin?”

…

Devi Boss loved working for Omar. Admired his business savvy and dedication. He’d endeared himself to her because of how opposite they were. She lived by the motto of live your life in the moment, and he subscribed to neat and exact—nothing out of place or unplanned.

He rarely did anything without thinking about it from twenty different angles. Knowing what she did now, she couldn’t believe how he’d hired her on the spot at their interview. She’d been twenty and fresh out of college. That’d been five years ago, and she hadn’t looked back.

Not even once.

But she worried about him. He needed to loosen up, live a little, and quit working so hard. Tweak his motto, even if by a hair’s width. She’d probably had more fun in the last week than he’d had in his entire thirty years.

“Do I look like Aladdin?” She grabbed the side seam of her rainbow maxi skirt and swished the shimmery fabric from side to side. “I mean, I know my outfit doesn’t show off every curve, but I think most people get the idea.”

He shook his head. “Even a blind man can see you’re all woman.”

“A compliment from the bossman?” She tossed her head back and laughed, working her hands faster so that her skirt swished around her legs in a blur. The hem rose higher and higher, and she danced around Omar in a tight circle.

“Cha, cha, cha.” The night air cooled the skin of her thighs. “See me dance. Join me tonight. This too could be you.”

“No thanks.”

Her entire being glowed when he chuckled. She’d earned an original Omar smile topped off with a near laugh. Something he usually reserved for special occasions—like when he secured a new contract or the P & Ls came out.

“You gotta let your inhibitions go, O.” Before she got accused of indecent exposure, she dropped her hands, and her skirt settled against her ankles with a swoosh. But not before she caught Omar checking out her legs. A warm tingle settled across her flesh. She liked the boost to her self-esteem. Long hours working with him sometimes left her craving a man’s attention. Not that she had any fantasies as far as he was concerned—the main mistress in his life was his job—but his attention definitely made her feel all warm and feminine.

“Like I said, I can see you’re a woman.”

That tingle spread to fill her belly. They made eye contact, and he actually blushed. Well, maybe not a blush, but his color heightened. Devi enjoyed the power of being a woman. It wasn’t often she got the one-up on Omar. “Why, thank you, kind sir.” She chuckled and curtsied.

In all the years they’d worked together she’d never witnessed him this far out of his comfort zone. Was he embarrassed she’d caught him ogling her goods?

No way.

Not a man with his power and prowess. He’d dated so many women through the years she’d stopped trying to remember their names. Why bother? They never made more than a handful of appearances before being replaced with a new face—new name.

Plus, she’d worn shorter skirts to work hundreds of times. Tonight wasn’t his first venture in seeing legs.

Then again, you’re talking about Omar. He’d never look at you any other way than as his assistant.

Even though they were fast friends, more than likely it was the fact he’d overstepped the boss-employee line that had caused his discomfort. If nothing else Omar was a stickler about following protocol.

He shook his head, but her playful mood had a smile tugging at his lips. She dared to go one step further to lure him out for a night on the town.

Devi moved ahead of him and spun around. She grabbed his hands and tugged him down the tourist-filled sidewalk, past overcrowded restaurants and booked-to-the-hilt hotels. “I can show you the world,” she sang in hushed tones. When he smiled, she raised her voice and kept singing, humming the parts of the song where she didn’t know the words.

Omar chuckled again and pulled her to a stop with such force she collided with his hard pecs.

Hmm, looks like Omar’s efforts at the gym are definitely paying off.

“Give me a break. You act like I’m a hermit.”

She dropped his hands and pushed off his chest. “Sometimes you are.”

“I go out. Hell, it wasn’t that long ago I took Jessica—Jessie, whatever her name is—out for dinner.”

“Wow. I’m almost convinced. Knowing you, it was probably a business dinner.” She straightened her skirt, then looked up to meet his gaze. “No, if it were, you’d have remembered her name.”

He rolled his eyes.

“And ‘not long ago’ was at least a month or two. Seems to me I remember her name from your calendar. Either way, you have to get over this obsession with work, work, work.”

He lifted one arrogant brow. “It worked well for my father.”

“Yeah, look where all that work got him.” Devi’s chest still ached whenever she thought about Leland Esterly dying of a massive heart attack at the age of fifty-seven. He’d barely had time to enjoy his retirement—if you could call working close to sixty plus hours a week as an accountant in a second career retirement. Either way, he’d been much too young.

Omar frowned. “I wouldn’t be where I am today if I didn’t work hard. Plus, unlike my father, I eat right and make sure to exercise.”

“There’s nothing wrong with hard work, as long as you know how to play hard, too. Come on, Omar. Take a break. Do up the town with me.” She cocked her head and gave him what she hoped were her best puppy-dog eyes. One thing she’d learned about Omar over the years, he treasured his employees’ happiness. And she’d use it against him for his own good.

“How about a rain check?” He brushed his fingers through his hair.

“I’ve heard that before. Five years, Omar. You can have one drink with me.” Devi softened her tone as she ticked off each year on her fingers. She’d play the guilt card to the hilt if need be.

He shook his head. “I really need to find a way inside Bartow’s inner circle. I want that account. I don’t get why a business savvy, confirmed bachelor like Bartow requires the firm he hires to live by standards he doesn’t follow himself.”

Devi’s stomach sank. Omar had everything required to help this man build his wealth—except a family. His family consisted of a mother who busied herself on a never-ending world travel tour, and two brothers. They all lived in different states and weren’t close. Not that any of that mattered because that wasn’t the type of family the businessman was after. “Maybe he likes the Norman Rockwellness of the picture in his mind. You know—wife, kids, and probably a white picket fence. Maybe he has regrets over things he never accomplished.”

“If he’d just listen to the plan I have mapped out, he’d realize having a wife and family doesn’t mean squat when it comes to financial planning.” Omar sighed.

“I’m sorry, O.”

“All that loving family mumbo-jumbo talk might be good for some people, but life is about success and moving forward. A family holds you back. Takes up your time. Hell, my father taught me that in grade school.” Omar’s voice grew hard with conviction.

“Ouch. That’s damn harsh.” Sometimes she felt sorry for the childhood Omar didn’t get. His mother had been globetrotting the world—usually with his two younger brothers in tow—and his father had made sure his oldest son followed a rigid path to be top dog. All his life Omar tried to please his father, prove his drive and focus were worth the many sacrifices he’d made. His old man had been proud, but none of that had won either of them any kudos from the other Esterly children. And above all else, Omar had a warped sense of commitment—at least commitment outside a business circle. His dating habits confirmed that.

Look who’s talking?
After hearing about all her mother had gone through, commitment wasn’t high on Devi’s list, either. Long ago she’d decided to live life on her terms, her choices, because you never knew when the gift would be taken. She needed to depend only on herself for her own happiness. Why put that burden on someone else who probably didn’t have the same vision?

Omar jammed his fists into his trouser pockets. “If I could get my foot in the door.”

Devi frowned, pulled a snack bag of chips from her purse—her other indulgence into processed foods besides her weekly dog—tore open the package, and popped one rippled chip into her mouth. What she wouldn’t give for some dill dip.

“You already said it’s impossible,” she said around a crunchy chip.

“I’m probably overthinking this.”

She sighed. He thought too hard about too many things. Devi only thought too hard about finding her father. The man who’d left her unwed mother the moment she’d announced her pregnancy. At least that was the scoop according to Devi’s grandmother, the strong-willed woman who’d raised her since birth.

The barely eaten bag of chips suddenly didn’t seem as appealing. She wadded the package into a crunchy ball and dumped it into a nearby trash can.

Time to shake off her woes. If she wanted to dwell on her past she could do that alone in her apartment with a tub of homemade, organic ice cream—salted caramel.

Right now Omar needed saving. From himself.

Chapter Two

Devi shoved her hand through the crook of Omar’s arm and bumped him with her hip to get him moving. “Let’s have a drink. Just one. Maybe between us we can come up with a solution.”
Or at least you’ll forget your troubles for a few.

If he refused again she didn’t know what to try next.

Omar double-bumped her hip back, and she almost lost her footing.

“Oooh, O has a playful streak.” She hugged her middle and rocked on her heels. He’d just supplied the proof needed in knowing her efforts in reforming him from twenty-four seven workaholic to nine-to-five workaholic weren’t wasted.

She smiled up at him, but his face had already settled back into his usual expression. Serious.

“My mind isn’t on being social.” His monotone voice cut through her like a dull ax.

How could such a good-looking man be such a stick in the mud? If Bradley Cooper had a twin, Omar would be it. Albeit, the olive-skinned version, thanks to his mom’s Italian heritage. His light brown hair, with hints of blond, teased the waves adorning his head and he always appeared as if he’d either just stumbled from bed or had run his fingers through it. Whatever he did or didn’t do, his hair looked perfect. And his eyes.

Oh, his eyes.

Yes, he was her boss, but who wouldn’t notice those mesmerizing eyes? Eyes so blue they were almost pastel. When she’d first started working with him she’d not only caught her breath every time they made eye contact, but her heart snagged a bit. She’d gotten over her adoration soon enough upon learning he only had eyes for work.

As it turned out, his dedication had served them both well. She’d learned a lot, and he’d not only proven himself a wonderful boss but an even better friend. And that’s why she wanted him to get a life. Friends shouldn’t let friends live a boring existence. No matter how much they resisted. Everyone—even Omar—needed an escape.