Authors: Kate Perry
Project Daddy (11 page)
The five minutes or so before the waiter came to take our order passed in excruciating silence. Fortunately, I had the menu to keep me occupied. When the waiter tried to take it from me, I gripped it tighter, which resulted in a momentary tug-of-war before he snatched it away from me with a triumphant lift of his brows.
Bastard. I wrinkled my nose at him. Then I pushed up my glasses and looked at Luc, who still looked shell-shocked.
It was up to me to strike up conversation. I wasn’t as socially inept as I once was (look at the progress I was making on my assignment)—I could do it.
I adjusted up my glasses, smiled at him almost naturally, and said, “Did you know broccoli has twice as much vitamin C as an orange?”
He blinked a couple times. “Huh?”
“Really.” I nodded. “And did you know a West German goes an average of seven days without washing his under wear?”
He looked completely baffled.
I wondered if maybe his hearing was going—we
had
been spending a lot of time in loud bars and clubs. I resolved to get him a gift certificate for Christmas to get his ears checked out.
had
been spending a lot of time in loud bars and clubs. I resolved to get him a gift certificate for Christmas to get his ears checked out.
In the meantime, I repeated what I said, only louder this time.
The conversation around us stopped for a breath. The way people gawked made my cheeks burn. But I lifted my head and told the people at the table right next to us, “Well, it’s true. I know my facts.”
I turned back to Luc, indignant that anyone would disbelieve my knowledge. I was a damn excellent researcher and I
never
got my facts wrong. Only Luc had his head in his hands and his shoulders were shaking.
never
got my facts wrong. Only Luc had his head in his hands and his shoulders were shaking.
“Oh Luc”—I reached across the table to pat his hand—“don’t be upset. They just don’t know any better.”
He let loose a guffaw, throwing his head back.
The jerk wasn’t crying—he was laughing. I pulled my hand back but he caught it and held it. Tight. And I almost forgave him for laughing. Almost.
“Oh, Kat.” He swiped a tear that leaked from his eye. Lifting my hand, he kissed the knuckles. “You’re hilarious.”
I felt his laughter on my skin and my brain had a meltdown. I opened my mouth but I couldn’t remember what I was going to say. Which is probably why my next comment slipped out. “Did you know there’s no medical name for boogers?”
“God, I love you.” He kissed my hand again, effectively shutting me up. “Especially the odd little facts you spout off when you’re rattled.”
My heart skipped. Because he loved my facts, I’m sure.
The waiter arrived with our salads, so I didn’t get a chance to reply. Good thing, because at that point I don’t think I was capable of saying anything intelligible.
But that was okay. Luc kept up the conversation, drawing me in until we were talking just like normal. As if I weren’t wearing panties he’d picked out for me.
If I thought about my underwear, I’d choke on my ribeye. In 1999, two hundred eighteen people choked to death on food. Fortunately, that was in the U.K., but I wasn’t about to take any chances.
Chapter Nine
I’ve always been a diligent worker. In school when a teacher assigned a project or report, I started work on it right away, finishing it well before the due date.
In my job, I was the same way. I got an assignment with a deadline and I made sure I got it done in plenty of time.
Lydia’s special assignment completely threw me off. Not only was I battling to get it accomplished, but it was setting me behind in all my other work (because I’d been leaving work earlier than my usual 8:00 P.M. quitting time). And then there was the wasted Sunday I’d spent with Gary and then shopping, as well as all those dinners with Luc where we hadn’t done anything but hang out and talk ...
So I had to cram, not only on the chocolate account but also on compiling Lydia’s list. I worked late on Thursday, went out to a bar and collected a couple more names (without Luc), and went home to tie everything up.
I hated it. Why people did this to themselves I didn’t know. But I vowed never again. It wasn’t worth the exhaustion I felt each morning.
But Friday I still got to work early to prep before my meeting with Lydia. She’d said she wanted daily status reports, but the past week she’d been too busy for me.
Over the last couple of days, I’d heard murmurings of a big deal going down, but there’s always something big happening at AshComm, so I didn’t pay much attention to the gossip.
I’d debated e-mailing her an update, but given the sensitive nature of my project I decided that wasn’t a good idea. She’d just have to wait.
When Jessica, Lydia’s assistant, called me at nine o’clock, I was ready. I had my spreadsheets (arranged by best match for her criteria) as well as fact sheets about reproduction. Like how men’s sperm production was at each age and what factors affected it. Facts I’d want to know.
I hurried up to her office, taking the stairs of course, my manila folder under my arm. In the stairwell, I straightened my skirt and smoothed back my hair. I took a deep breath. This was it.
VP, here I come.
I marched into Lydia’s front office, a professional smile plastered on my face. “Good morning, Jessica.���
She didn’t look away from her monitor. “Lydia’s been waiting for you.”
I looked at my watch. Only five minutes had passed since Jessica called. Excuse me for not having a teleporter. “Shall I just go in, then?”
I interpreted her look as an affirmative. Squaring my shoulders, I knocked on the door and walked in.
Lydia sat furiously typing on her laptop. The usually flawless skin of her forehead furrowed. I think it was anger, but as thin as she was, it could have also been hunger.
“Sit,” she barked, still tapping away.
Okay—anger.
As I took my usual chair across from her, I assured myself that it wasn’t directed at me. I’d compiled a damn fine list (even if I said so myself) and my promotion was practically guaranteed.
Lydia slammed her laptop shut and glared at me. “Give me good news.”
Gulp. “I have the list, just like you wanted. The men are ordered according to greatest compatibility to the, uh, features you requested.” For the hundredth time I thanked God she hadn’t asked for a specific penis size.
“Let’s see it.”
I pushed them across the glass-top desk. I held my breath, trying not to read anything into the casual way she flipped through the pages.
“Good,” she finally pronounced. I practically fell to the floor and sobbed in relief.
The intercom buzzed. “Lydia, Mr. Drake is here for you.”
She punched a button so viciously I felt sorry for the plastic. “He can goddamn wait.”
Yikes. Whoever Mr. Drake was, I didn’t envy him.
She returned her icy gaze to me and pushed the report back. “Set up meetings with the top five candidates for late next week. Allot an hour for each.”
She wanted
me
to make the dates? Rather than complain, I nodded, keeping a visual of the home I was going to buy firm in my mind. “Right.”
me
to make the dates? Rather than complain, I nodded, keeping a visual of the home I was going to buy firm in my mind. “Right.”
“Arrange the meetings for the lobby of the Mark Hopkins Hotel.”
I guessed that was so she could take whichever one she decided on up and get busy right away. I admired her take-charge attitude. “Of course. Anything else?”
The buzzer sounded again. “Lydia, Mr. Drake insists on seeing you right away.”
Lydia turned off the volume to her phone. “Actually, Katherine, I’ve changed my mind.”
I almost sighed in relief.
“Pick the ten best candidates. Set up four interviews on Tuesday, three Wednesday and Thursday, starting at seven.”
I pushed my glasses up, counting to ten before I answered. I didn’t trust myself not to squawk in protest. Tuesday was only a few days away. “That’s somewhat sudden.” Not bad. My tone had just the right amount of inquisitive without the stark outrage. “Are you sure?”
She cocked one perfect eyebrow.
Right. How silly of me to question her highness’s mandate.
Before I could properly grovel at her feet, her door burst open and a man stalked in. A tall, very angry man by the look of him.
His eyes, a darker blue than Luc’s, blazed in repressed fury. He wore his power as easily as he wore his expensive suit (handmade, I bet).
But wow was he attractive. In a dangerous, untamed way. Way too intense for me, but for Lydia ...
Hmm. I appraised him a little closer. He even had a goatee. Maybe I could add him to the list. I wondered if insanity or any other debilitating illnesses ran in his family.
“Excuse me.” Lydia’s voice was ice cold, but fury raged in her eyes. “You can’t barge into my office like that.”
I pushed my glasses up, tempted to lean across the desk for a closer look. I couldn’t help it—I’d never seen her gray eyes burn like that.
“I wouldn’t have to if you’d honor your commitments.”
Lydia’s eyes narrowed to slits. Hands on the desk, she pushed herself up slowly.
Uh-oh. I shrank back a little in my chair and gazed longingly at the door. Maybe I could make it out before I got caught in the cross fire.
“
I
always honor my commitments,” the ice queen said. I had the impression she was implying he didn’t. “I’m in the middle of a meeting that’s been scheduled for several weeks.”
I
always honor my commitments,” the ice queen said. I had the impression she was implying he didn’t. “I’m in the middle of a meeting that’s been scheduled for several weeks.”
A little bit of an exaggeration, but I wasn’t going to correct her. Not when she looked like she could take out an army with the pen clutched in her hand.
The man—Mr. Drake—glanced at me, minus about a thousand degrees of intensity. His lips tipped up in the barest smile. “Excuse me. I didn’t realize.”
Was that a hint of a dimple?
I smiled politely back at him, my eyes glued to his cheek. I wanted to tell him it was okay but I didn’t think Lydia would agree, so I kept my mouth shut.
Mr. Drake turned back to Lydia, the cold fury banked. “I’ll wait outside. But we
are
meeting. Don’t think you can avoid me.”
are
meeting. Don’t think you can avoid me.”
With a nod to me, he walked out as forcefully as he’d walked in. He shut the door behind him, softly, but somehow it seemed as forceful as when he’d slammed it open.
I glanced at Lydia. Red spots colored her cheeks. Under her couple-thousand-dollar suit her panties were in a wad, I bet.
Most disquieting. I cleared my throat, tried to stifle the frisson of unease, and got back to the matter at hand. “So you want me to pick the best candidates and set up dates?”
She blinked a few times. Why was seeing her unhinged so disturbing? “Yes. Set it up for next Tuesday.”
She flipped open her laptop, clicked a few times, and then began typing manically.
I guessed I was dismissed. I gathered my reports and quietly tiptoed toward the door.
“Katherine.”
I froze and looked over my shoulder.
“I’m sure I don’t need to remind you that time is running out.” Her steely gaze pierced straight through me. “Make good choices.”
Right. Resisting the urge to salute, I nodded and smiled before I walked out. At least I think I smiled. As long as I didn’t look like I wanted to throw up.
Mr. Drake paced in the waiting area outside. Jessica had one panicked eye on him, like he was a caged animal that might maul her at any moment.
He did have that look, but underneath he looked like a fair man. Anyone with shoes so polished had to be somewhat civilized, right?
I gave him a slight smile as I walked through. I was almost to the hallway when I heard him call out.
“Excuse me, miss.”
I turned around and, surprised to find him so close to me, jumped. “Uh, can I help you?”
“I think you may be able to.” He took my arm and guided me down the hall to the elevators, away from Jessica’s watchful eyes.
For some reason, I didn’t mind his strong-arm techniques. I mean, I knew he was after something from me, but there was something about him I liked. Rainbow probably would have said he had a positive aura.
He waited until we were well out of earshot before he asked, “You work for Lydia?”
His use of my boss’s first name surprised me. I was tempted to tell him I was employee eighty-seven out of two hundred thirty-six (sixty-two percent of which were women), but I pushed up my glasses and simply said, “Yes.”
He studied me, his hand still holding my arm as if he thought I’d try to get away. “What’s your name?”
“Katherine Murphy.” I couldn’t keep the suspicion out of my voice. After all, here was a guy who obviously had an adversarial relationship with my boss suddenly taking an interest in me. I might have thought Lydia was a demanding bitch (an upgrade from heinous bitch) but I still owed her my loyalty.
He smiled. It wasn’t an effusive smile, but it was enough to show off his adorable dimple. “Katherine Murphy, a pleasure to meet you.”
Somehow I could tell it really was. I relaxed, but just a tiny bit. I wasn’t sure I trusted him yet.
Maybe I didn’t hide my distrust of him as well as I thought, because he let go of my arm and cocked his head to the side. “You don’t trust me, do you?”
I pursed my lips. “Does it matter? I don’t even know who you are.”
He watched me. Closely. I wanted to fidget—his gaze (did I mention it was blue?) unnerved me—but I stuck my chin out and stared right back.
The corner of his lips twitched.
Aha! A sign of discomfort. He wasn’t as composed as he appeared.
Then he said, “Ms. Murphy, allow me to introduce myself.” He held out his hand. “Viggo Drake.”
“Mr. Drake.” I expected his grip to be overbearing and crushing but it wasn’t. It was firm but gentle, like he was concerned about me. Odd.
“Just Drake.” He smiled at me again. “I’ve kept you long enough. I’m sure you have work to do, and I have a meeting with Lydia.”
“Oh.” I pushed my glasses up. That was it? He was letting me go? It was almost anticlimactic.
“I hope we get a chance to talk soon.” His dimple flashed.
It was so little-boy cute it disarmed me. “Did you know there are three hundred thirty-six dimples on a regulation golf ball?”
He laughed, and it transformed him. “Let me guess. You’re in research.”
Wow. He was astute too.
“I can tell Lydia’s lucky to have you on her team. Until the next time.” He raised a hand in parting before striding back to Lydia’s domain.
I watched him disappear into the office. He never told me who he was. Other than his name, that is. I wondered what type of man could whip my esteemed boss into such a frenzy.
Either a stupid one or one who was very cunning. And I doubted Viggo Drake was the former.
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