Ready or Not (7 page)

Mallory ran her fingers through her hair and decided to try again. “But you’re not just a bartender. You’re a small-business owner. I know that now.”

“See?” Hope said, pointing. “There it is again. That was kind of a pretentious comment, you have to admit. Bartending is a perfectly valid profession. And it’s ridiculously hard. Not too many people are good at it.”

Mallory rewound the sentence. “Okay, so on review that didn’t sound great, but I’m not a snob. And I get that bartending is complicated.”

“I think it’s okay to own it,” Hope said, nodding. “The snob thing.”

“Well, I don’t.”

“So it bothers you that you’re a snob?”

“Yes. I mean, no. Because I’m not.”
Damn it
.

Hope nodded and the side of her mouth pulled up in amusement. “Yeah, that made total sense.” But the mouth thing, that just infuriated Mallory further.

“Maybe you’re the one who’s a snob,” Mallory shot back. “Have you ever thought of that? Because you’re being kind of judgmental right now yourself and looking very smug in the process.”

Hope smiled full-on then and took a step closer to Mallory, who noticed distantly that the cold water was now running across the tops of their feet. “You’re kind of gorgeous when you get all angry like that. Have you heard that before?”

Mallory swallowed. Caught off guard by the comment, she had no idea what to say. And Hope was noticeably close and, all right, she could admit it, still ridiculously good-looking. Who was she kidding? “I am not.”

“Mmm-hmm,” Hope said. “Except you are.” And before Mallory knew what hit her, Hope’s hands were on her dress, holding her firmly at her waist, and her mouth crushed against Mallory’s. And oh, dear lord, and baby Jesus and some saints all combined into some kind of miraculous combo platter! There had been no delay, no working up to it, no soft, light touches. Hope had stepped in and taken what she wanted, and the result was a full-on kiss, people, a ten on the Richter scale of lip locking, and Mallory had no choice but to surrender to its significant power.

In what can only be described as a clichéd reaction, her knees went weak at the onslaught that flooded her body as Hope’s warm mouth moved perfectly, expertly even, against hers. Mallory’s lips parted against the lavish attention because she wasn’t exactly in control any longer. As Hope’s tongue touched hers, all bets were off and she felt herself give back everything she was getting. The temperature on the beach must have shot up in a weird act of nature, and before Mallory knew it, the whole thing was wham-bam over.

Hope released her and met her eyes. “Sorry, but I had to do that.”

Mallory blinked, her body still thrumming, her ears ringing, and her mind struggling to catch up to the crazy thing that had just happened outside her family’s summer home. She’d just been kissed—no,
owned
, by this person standing in front of her who she wasn’t even sure she liked. “Had to?” she finally managed.

“Had to,” Hope confirmed. “You’re a snob. But you happen to be a really attractive snob. Walk you back?”

Mallory stared at her, the blood returning to her brain after a long delay. “That’s the first thing you have to say? The snob thing again? Yeah, I think heading back is totally for the best.” She stepped back on still-watery legs and followed Hope to the house, trying desperately to piece together the last few minutes of her time on Earth.

They rejoined the party and Mallory made the rounds, making sure everyone was tended to and having a good time. This time she made sure to pay attention to the conversation, to engage each individual the way her parents had always instructed her to. Along the way, she lost track of Hope, and that was probably a very good thing.

As the night wore on, guests began to take their leave, until it was just her best friends in addition to Bentley and his date, and of course, Gordon and TJ, who’d never left a party until the end in their entire lives.

“Did Hope head out?” she asked Hunter, who sat next to her on the outdoor couch.

“Yeah, she left about eleven. She’s driving back to the city tonight. I offered the extra room, as I didn’t think you’d mind, but she turned me down.”

“That’s a shame,” she said absently, not really meaning it.

“So what went down on the beach between you two, Mal? Everything okay?”

Mallory turned to Hunter as warning sirens blared. What happened on the beach was not something she cared for anyone to know about. She’d just keep the beach-kissing details under her hat to examine later. When she was alone. “Nothing happened. I apologized for the way I was acting. That’s all. Why are you even asking me that?”

“Whoa. Where did that come from?” Hunter asked, seemingly amused and moving her finger in a circle at Mallory. “That little aggressive reaction.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. I answered your question.”

“With your dukes up, which is kinda feisty. Why are you feisty right now, Mallory?”

“Who’s feisty?” Brooklyn asked, joining them.

“Mallory is,” Hunter informed Brooklyn. “Mallory’s feisty and
nothing
happened on the beach with Hope. So don’t ask.”

“Got it,” Brooklyn said. “There was no making out on the beach with Hope.”

Mallory gasped. “You were spying?”

Brooklyn smiled like she’d just hit the jackpot in Vegas. “Nope. But I am clever enough to get you to spill all on your own.” Brooklyn and Hunter exchanged a celebratory chair dance.

“Why are we chair dancing?” Sam asked, hip-bumping Brooklyn as she sat.

Brooklyn smiled triumphantly and turned to Sam. “Mal made out with Hope the sexy bartender on the beach.”

“On the
beach
?” Sam asked. “The beach is so sexy. It was a sexy, sandy kiss, wasn’t it?”

Mallory covered her eyes, unable to believe she’d allowed this to happen. “I’m not discussing this with you guys. It was totally unexpected and not worthy of our time.” A lie, because Mallory couldn’t remember the last time she’d been kissed like that. Because she hadn’t. Ever. And as much as Hope irritated her, she did have the most awesome mouth that was all soft and demanding. Plus, she knew how to—

“But we always discuss sexy kissing when it happens,” Brooklyn said, confused and looking to her friends for support.

Samantha nodded. “It’s a cosmic sexy-kissing rule. She’s right. Did you kiss her or did she kiss you? Important detail.”

Mallory blew out a breath. “What do you think?”

“Hope made the move,” Hunter said with confidence. “Trust me on this.”

Brooklyn placed a solemn hand across her chest. “Young female hearts are breaking all over Soho tonight. You realize that, right?”

Mallory rolled her eyes. “Please. It was one kiss, an isolated incident. It’s never going to happen again.”

“Whatever you say, Mal. Whatever you say,” Hunter said, smiling.

Well, that was enough of that. “I’m going to go settle up with Marcus and see if they need any help tearing down,” Mallory said, and without waiting for a response, headed off toward the house.

“Was there tongue?” Brooklyn called after her.

“What about groping?” Sam echoed. “Where were her hands exactly? Can you show us on a diagram?”

Mallory rolled her eyes and ignored the questions—not that she didn’t have a few of her own about the evening’s happenings and um…her own very visceral response to said happenings. But she meant what she’d said. That beach kiss was a one-time thing, and she should probably make sure Hope knew that. The fact that her lips still tingled and she could still feel sparks the kiss had ignited was far, far beyond the point.

*

Hope drove back to the city with the windows down and her music blaring. Her Mustang was just over twelve years old, but you’d never know it from the way it handled on the winding roads that led her out of the Hamptons and back to the city. Thank God she’d picked up a few skills with a wrench in her younger years to keep the thing running. The car was her prized possession, and driving it now, she remembered why. She loved the feel of the road beneath her, the give-and-take of the gas under her foot. The city didn’t offer up many chances to drive, so nights like this one were to be enjoyed. She checked the time on the dash and called Teddy to check in.

“Why are you bothering me, boss?” The thrum of the music in the background was commonplace to Hope.

She smiled at the lack of greeting. “Have you run the place into the ground yet?” she asked over the sound of the wind racing past her car. It was a joke, as she’d grown to trust him implicitly with the bar.

“Nope. But the new girl is here again and dressed a bit like a nun. You sure this is going to work out?”

She sighed. “No, but she showed up, right? That’s something. How many drinks has she spilled?”

“Make that three.”

Ouch. “Well, that’s an improvement over the four from last night. I’ll swing by on my way home and pick up the bank drop.”

“That should work. If I get a spare minute, I’ll try and have it ready for you.”

“Cool. And thanks for stepping up tonight. It was nice to have a night off.”

“Anytime. You should give yourself a break more often. Drive safe, boss lady.”

She clicked off and relaxed into the leather of the driver’s seat as memories of the night flickered. The house had been breathtaking and belonged to Mallory’s parents. Translation, she came from money, and a lot of it. Not surprising, given the way she’d carried on. Who knew the woman was such a princess? She’d been aloof at the bar, sure, but the consummate socialite was a side of her that Hope had yet to experience. She flashed on Mallory moving from one guest to the next, working the place like she was born to host parties and entertain. Despite the pretention and the know-it-all attitude, Mallory still got under her skin in a big way.

The cobalt-blue eyes, the thick dark hair, and the body that simply wouldn’t stop.

Then there were the perfectly coordinated outfits. The business suits and matching heels. God. Even when Mallory came to Showplace in casual attire, she was still ultra put together. Not a hair out of place. Something about it just made Hope want to mess her up a little, take her for a ride on the wild side some day, see how she fared.

Hope shook her head and smiled into the night as her thoughts dipped to that kiss she hadn’t been able to resist stealing on the beach. Something about their banter—that back-and-forth had pushed her over the edge, and she just hadn’t been able to resist seizing the moment and shutting Mallory up a little. There was a definite chemistry between them. That was for sure.

And she wasn’t yet done exploring that.

Hope smiled as she drove the rest of the way to Manhattan, enjoying the ride, the night, and reliving the tantalizing details of a stolen moment on a darkened beach.

The black suit was too severe. That much Mallory knew as she stared at herself in the full-length mirror in her bedroom. This meant she had only three point two minutes to be out the door of her apartment, wearing a new outfit, and on the elevator en route to her presentation to Big Top, the chain of movie theaters they were hoping to sign on as the newest Soho Savvy client. This company, from her research, seemed to be made up of less-formal people, edgy types, which meant conservative attire was not the way to go. Damn it, she should have planned better.

Ripping off items of clothing as she walked, Mallory zeroed in on her lime-green dress hanging in the center of the closet. It was bright enough not to be stuffy, but covered enough skin with its three-quarter sleeves and modest neckline to pass for professional. Perfect. She accessorized with a pair of black pumps and a silver necklace before flying out of the apartment. Once in the elevator, she pulled the clasp from the nape of her neck and let her hair tumble freely. She could do edgy. Well, she could try for edgy. Maybe she should have had Hunter accompany her with Hunter’s standard outside-the-box wardrobe. Camouflage pants and lip gloss on a client call? Why the hell not? They offered a customized service, after all. She filed this point away in case there was a next time.

A short subway ride to midtown later, Mallory found herself in a waiting area that looked much more like a gamer’s lair than any kind of corporate headquarters. Retro arcade games from the 1980s lined the walls, and the likes of PAC-MAN, Centipede, and Burger Time pinged and chirped in an electronic chorus of intimidation, because that’s a bit how Mallory felt in the midst of it all. The receptionist was hot, but dressed more like a Hooters waitress than a corporate assistant. She was pretty sure this was by design.

“Ms. Spencer,” the Hooters girl said. “They’re ready for you in Mr. Newton’s office. Third door on the right.”

“Thank you.” And please put on a sweater
,
the friend in her added mentally. She made her way to Mr. Newton’s office and found herself in what looked to be an extension of the lobby. More video games, an indoor basketball hoop, and a giant movie screen with
Batman Returns
playing on a silent loop made up the room. Instead of a desk, a conglomeration of leather armchairs was arranged in a sitting-room formation, and at this point in time, they were occupied by what seemed to be three frat guys.

Correction—her very important potential clients.

She paused in the doorway and took a deep breath. Here went nothing. “Mr. Newton?” she asked the one who resembled the online photo of Timothy Newton, the CEO. Only this guy looked about ten years younger than the photo. Photoshop carried amazing powers. How young was this guy anyway? The suspect in question popped up from his chair with a wide grin.

“Call me Timmy. You must be Mallory.”

“I am. Pleased to meet you.” She went to shake his hand but was offered a high-five instead.

“Up top,” Timmy said. She obliged. “That’s how we do it at Big Top. The high-five is everything. Popcorn? It has real butter. The good kind,” he told her, indicating the buttery bowl on the side table.

“No, no. But thank you. I generally wait until after nine thirty for popcorn. Strict rule.”

He laughed at her lame attempt at a joke and introduced her to his colleagues, Robby, the COO, and Freddy, the CFO. Apparently, Robby, Freddy, and Timmy had become best buddies at one of those creative think-tank workshops and never looked back. They opened a movie theater together and, after its overwhelming success, opened another and another. Currently, they were at the helm of over sixty-five theaters and counting across the New England area and ready to expand even further. This would be a huge account for Savvy, should they land it.