The Bet (6 page)

“H
ey, Lauterborn,” Paul Thompson said. His tall, lanky frame filled the entrance to her new office. “You look different.” At her expression, he laughed. “No, in a good way!”

“Can we lose this last-name thing?”

“Sure, boss,” he said. “So? Did you get contacts?”

“Forget it,” she said smiling. “Thanks for coming over. Have a seat.”

“What's up?”

“We need someone to talk to the head of Freedom Mutual and soothe him. He needs a careful touch, but from a man.”

“You want me to do it?” Paul asked doubtfully. “Adler's kind of . . .”

Zoe watched him search for a political word. “Prickly?” she suggested.

“Yeah, prickly.”

“You think you can do it?”

“Maybe.” Paul paused and said, “What do we know about him?”

“He's worried about rising interest rates, and he's right to be worried. The Feds keep threatening to up the rates. We need him to focus on the long term, quit watching the Fed chairman.”

“Long term's our strength,” Paul said, repeating the company mantra.

“Exactly! Can you get him to understand that? I mean without bullying him.”

“It's hard not to push him,” Paul mused. “He's so stubborn.”

“You're young and hip. Make him feel cool.” Zoe looked at the ceiling for a minute then said, “You've got to make him think it's his idea. Make him think he was always focused on long-term payoffs.”

“I can do that,” he said, with growing assurance.

“I think so, too.”

“Thanks.” Paul looked pleased at her vote of confidence.

“Can you call him at three?”

“Sure. I'll let you know how it goes.” Paul stood to leave. “Oh,” he said. “Marci and I are going to Lucky Chan's tonight. You want to come with us?”

“Sounds like fun.” Marci worked in accounting, and her dry sense of humor appealed to Zoe. Marci and Paul were becoming something of a couple. “But I've got plans tonight.”

“Hot date, huh?”

“Maybe,” she said, playfully.

“Bring him along. The more the merrier.”

“He's got something special planned, he says.”

“Phillip's a lucky guy.” Paul started to walk away.

“Hey, Paul?”

“Yeah?”

“It's not contacts. I'm wearing my hair down.”

 

Zoe checked her clock and stood. She had just enough time for a lipstick check before the next meeting. His husky voice stopped her in her tracks.

“I'd love to be that tiny strap around your ankle.” His voice was so low only she could hear him. “I'd find a way to slither up—”

“Phillip, how do you handle a single fund?” she teased. “You're always thinking about—”

“You.” The deep affection in his voice sent a shiver down her spine.

She refrained from caressing his neck, barely.

“What'd you do to make Paul so happy?” Phillip asked.

“Is he happy?”

“He was singing his way down the hallway.”

Zoe laughed. “I'm lucky to have him on the team. I gave him a difficult job that I knew he could do.

“Brilliant.” He grinned, suggestively. “Think you could handle me that well?”

“I've done a pretty good job so far,” she said lightly.

“I think so, too.”

Zoe smiled and walked away. Over her shoulder she said, “Go manage something, Phillip.”

 

“Congratulations,” said Phillip, as they strolled around the Washington Square Park fountain. “You're an amazing boss.” His honest pleasure made her heart expand, filling her chest. She knew a weaker man would have been jealous.

“Thanks.”

“Partnerships are becoming second nature for you.”

Something in his tone grabbed her attention.

“This is it.” Phillip pointed toward the bench they'd used on that spring night.

“Oh,” said Zoe. A streak of heat raced through—the passion of his touch always did that to her.

“You didn't mind losing that bet so much,” Phillip reminded her, tugging her next to him on the bench. He enveloped her hand in both of his. She savored the warmth of it.

At the end of the day, she
hadn't
minded losing. “No,” she agreed. “I like who I am with you. I like us together.”

“I love you, Zoe.” He pulled her into his arms and held her a moment without speaking. She inhaled deeply, loving the masculine scent of him, the safety of his embrace. “Do I have to ask your father first?” Could she hear a smile in his voice?

“You can ask, but he'll just laugh. He knows it's up to me—to us.” Her heart was pounding double-time now.

“In that case . . .” Phillip slid from the bench and on to one knee.

“Oh,” Zoe said, her eyes widening with growing joy.

He cleared his throat. “Zoe Lynn,” Phillip said, pulling a small box from his pocket.

Tiffany's trademark blue bow caught her attention, and the magnitude of the moment made her heart nearly stop. She wanted to capture this feeling forever in her memory. Zoe looked away, seeing a sliver of sinking sun between a forest of skyscrapers. She couldn't look away from the light.

Phillip opened the box and handed it to her. “Will you marry me?”

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The Bet
copyright © 2006 by Lucinda Betts

 

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ISBN: 978-1-6177-3732-9