Twisted Arrangement 2 (2 page)

“No.” She drew her brows down low and curved her mouth as far into a frown as it would go. She pointed at herself. “See this face? No more schemes!”

“Aww, Ems. I don’t know why you’re so out of sorts. This last one went down perfectly!” He spread his hands out in front of her, as if presenting the scheme as a whole, on display.

Emma snorted. “No. More. Schemes. And this?” She lifted The Watch by its chain and dangled it before his eyes, swinging it back and forth like an old-time hypnotist. “Repeat after me. This Watch is going to go into a safety deposit box and I will not touch it until I have a son of my own. In a hundred years.”

Todd rolled his eyes. “You’re such a dork.”

“I’m a dork that has to face Joshua Owens in person tomorrow. And I don’t know if I’ll be able to pull off
innocent party promoter
if I’m worrying about my lame-brained brother using our family heirloom to get himself embroiled in yet another disaster I have to rescue him from by dressing up in period costume and stealing from vengeful billionaires!” Emma sucked in a long breath to replenish her oxygen. Todd snickered.

“Wow that was impressive, Ems. But you’re the lame-brain. I’m not going to get--”

Emma scowled. “Todd Franklin Ness!”

He flinched. “Fine. We can put it in a safe deposit box. Happy?”

“I’ll be happy when this is all over and I never have to see Joshua Owens again.” Except that was a bald-faced lie. The idea of not seeing Josh again felt like a splinter between her ribs.

Todd drained the rest of her coffee and handed her back the mug. His smile was wide and beatific. “Don’t sweat it, Ems. You’re going to do fine.”

Clarice’s gaze bored into the side of her head like a drill. Emma adjusted her sleeves yet again. She concentrated on making sure her cuffs were perfectly even any time her frayed nerves began to spark with anxiety. The pointlessly precise task calmed her.

“You seem quieter than usual, Emma.” Clarice’s laced her casual tone with curiosity.

Emma forced her lips upward, fingers smoothing over the stack of paperwork on the table in front of her. “Just thinking about all the things I need to catch up on, Ms. Davenport.”

Clarice rubbed a bony finger along her blade of a nose. “Well, I want your head here in this room. Mr. Owens is one of the biggest clients we have. We need to keep him happy. Happy clients spend more money.”

“Yes ma’am.” Emma knew exactly what a happy Josh Owens looked like, what he sounded like. His full-throated laughter on the dance floor as they’d verbally dueled had been a happy sound. When he’d playfully assured her that he didn’t need champagne in order to lick every inch of her body, the glint in his eyes had been full of anticipation. She would have liked to see the expression on his face as he slid into her.

Clarice slapped a palm against the conference table. “You’re not even listening to me.”

“S-sorry, Ms. Davenport,” Emma stuttered. Her heart slowly settled back into its place in her chest. “You were saying?”

Her boss’ thin lips pressed into a straight white line. “I was
saying
that I want you to try and convince Mr. Owens to hold another event with us. Soon.”

“I doubt I have any influence over him, ma’am. He’s much more likely to listen to you.” Emma folded, unfolded, and refolded the corner of the topmost paper in her stack. Convince Josh to plan another event? Work with him again? Her lungs shriveled into raisins at the prospect.

Clarice waved a bony hand at her. “He raved about you at the ball. Several of our other clients mentioned how complimentary he was of you. And he was willing to wait over a week for his post-event follow-up because it meant you’d be here. How many of our top level clients do you suppose have that kind of patience?” Emma opened her mouth, but Clarice held up her hand, forestalling her. “Don’t bother. The answer is none. You’ve clearly made an impression. I want you to take advantage of it.”

There didn’t seem to be any point in arguing. What would she say to her boss, anyway?
I can’t cozy up to him because I’m afraid he’ll recognize me as the mysterious woman who seduced him and robbed him
? That would go over well. “Yes ma’am,” she murmured instead.

The silver-haired woman clapped her hands brusquely. “Good. That’s settled. Now, I’ve got another appointment. I’ll just leave this to you.”

“What?” Emma clutched at the pile of paper. An errant sheet sliced into her thumb. She whimpered. Only in small part because of the pain. Mostly it was because she’d hoped Clarice would serve as a buffer between her and Josh.

Clarice opened the door to the conference room and stepped outside, bumping straight into Joshua Owen’s chest. He and Clarice exchanged brief pleasantries and then the CEO informed him of her ‘unfortunate’ conflict. Emma raised her hand to her mouth, absently sucking at her wounded digit as Josh said goodbye to Clarice and strode into the conference room.

Her eyes devoured him. It had been nine days since she’d last seen him. He seemed even more vibrant and attractive than she remembered. The slicked-back waves of his blond hair glowed gold. His sculpted lips appeared even more sensual and alluring after their time apart. Though perhaps that was due to the fact that she now knew what they felt like against hers.

Josh shut the door and took the seat opposite her. He glanced at his watch, barely meeting her eyes. “I hope you don’t mind if we keep this short. I have to be somewhere in 45 minutes. It’s very important.”

Emma felt faintly light-headed. “That’s fine. It’s mostly paperwork.” Her voice sounded light as dandelion fluff, even to her. He didn’t recognize her. His blue-green gaze lacked even the faintest hint of suspicion. That should make her happy. So why did she feel like she wanted to throw up? Tears stung her eyes and the back of her nose. Surely she hadn’t been hoping that some part of him would recognize her as the woman he’d laughed with, danced with, the woman he’d held in his arms and kissed like he couldn’t breathe without her. The notion was ridiculous.

He picked up on something, though - her tone of voice or the grip she had on the stack of papers. Whatever it was, it made him truly look at her for the first time since he’d entered the room. He shot her the lopsided, boyish smile he’d given her the afternoon they’d had coffee together in town, when he admitted his ‘secret’ sweet tooth. “I’m sorry, that was rude of me. How are you, Emma? Did you get your family thing sorted out?”

“Oh. Yes, I did. Thank you.” She wished he’d go back to ignoring her. With his cool blue-green gaze on hers she couldn’t decide if she wanted to bolt out of the conference room or launch herself across the table at him. Both ideas were terrible ones, and yet each held its own appeal.

She slid the first of several sheets of paper across the table to him instead. “This is a detailed invoice. As you can see, each line has been itemized. If you have questions about what a charge is for, please feel free to ask. I’m familiar with everything on the list. Otherwise, if everything seems in order, we just need your signature at the bottom.”

Emma passed him a pen. When their fingers brushed she jerked abruptly at the spark of sensation. Josh frowned a bit but otherwise seemed completely unaffected. She folded her hands in her lap as Josh perused the invoice slowly.

Neither of them spoke. She was glad. The more often she needed to speak, the more likely it became that she’d babble something incoherent. Or worse, something incriminating. On the other hand, the silence gave her plenty of time to ogle him. Lord, was he gorgeous. And he donated money to charity and liked to tease her, and had a secret sweet tooth and a crooked smile.

And if he ever found out she’d stolen from him... Not just stolen from him but
tricked
him and
then
stolen from him... She recalled one of his phone conversations she’d overheard. He’d been talking about someone trying to break a contract with him.
I’ll have him in court for so long his great-grandchildren will still be paying legal fees
, he’d sneered. Those were not the words of a man who forgave, or forgot, easily.

“You robbed me blind.”

Emma jerked convulsively. Her elbow struck the table and went numb. Her heart punched against her ribs in an apparent attempt to bust out of her chest and fling itself at Josh to beg for mercy. “W-what?”

He glanced up from the paper, honey colored brows knotted on his forehead. “You heard me.”

Josh jabbed his finger at the invoice in front of him. “$107,000 for
jet fuel
? Why am I paying for jet fuel? I threw a ball for a children’s charity in my
home
. Not at 35,000 feet.”

Color washed into Emma’s pale cheeks. Her cheekbones pressed tight against her skin and the faint shadows of sleepless nights lingered under her pretty green eyes. Whatever her family troubles were, they were taking a toll. “The yangmei fruit. I told you we’d have to fly them in from China if you wanted them. You insisted that was exactly what you wanted us to do. So we did. As we had to make trip specifically for your fundraiser, you bear the cost.”

“Oh.” Josh deflated somewhat. He’d forgotten about the yangmei. He
had
told her to fly them in. Honestly, even at this cost, it was worth it. He loved that sweet little red fruit. “Well, that’s fine then. Sorry if I snapped. It’s been a hell of a week.” He flashed her a sheepish grin, scrubbing his hand through his hair. It wasn’t Emma’s fault that William Ransler was an expert at avoiding him. Or that Todd Ness and his gorgeous co-conspirator had robbed him. He shouldn’t take it out on her.

She gave him a brief nod, her eyes sliding away from his. Josh felt like a Class A jerk. Emma had just begun to loosen up around him before the ball. Now he’d probably undone all the hard work he’d put into gaining her trust with that little hissy fit. Yet another thing he could lay at the door of William Ransler and Todd Ness. And Madame Butterfly. He snatched up the pen Emma had handed him and drove the mysterious woman from his mind. Or tried to.

She had an annoying habit of slinking into his thoughts at the most inopportune times. He signed the invoice with an almost manic flourish, not bothering to read the rest. “You know what? I’m sure this is all fine. I have absolute faith in your organization and efficiency, Emma.”

“Thank you, Mr. Owens.” She accepted the sheet as he slid it back to her, but her lips were pressed tightly together. Not in that cute little pucker she made when she was biting back disapproval, but in an almost pained expression. Not to mention they had fallen all the way back to ‘Mr. Owens’. Josh shifted in his chair, wondering how to mend his snafu.

Emma was a sweet girl. Cute too, in a pixie-ish sort of way. He remembered he’d been contemplating asking her out before the ball. Now sparkling brown eyes and a throaty, sensual laugh filled his head. Once he figured out this whole thing, he’d be able to put the duplicitous Madame Butterfly from his mind and concentrate on someone less likely to cause him so much trouble. Either way, he owed Emma better than the rough edge of his temper. He smiled.

“It’s Josh, Emma. Remember?”

She handed him another sheet of paper. “This is a blanket media release. You just need to sign here and here. And initial here.” She indicated three highlighted areas on the paper, still avoiding his eyes.

Geez. He was a regular Casanova with women lately. Couldn’t say or do anything right. “Maybe that’s why she ran off,” he mumbled to himself. Emma’s gaze jerked up to his. Her small chin trembled the slightest bit.

“Pardon?”

He scribbled his signature and initials on the paper as instructed. “I seem to have a knack for driving women away, that’s all. You’re not the first.” He shoved the paper back across to her with deep sigh. “At least you didn’t leave me alone in a bedroom with a bottle of champagne and a terrible case of blue balls,” he muttered under his breath.

Emma gasped in shock. Josh’s gaze jumped to hers. Hot blood stung his cheeks. Had he said that last part out loud? He hadn’t meant to. But if the wide-eyed shock on Emma’s face was anything to go by, she’d heard every word. He groaned and dropped his face into his hands briefly before glancing at her with grimace.

“Jesus, I’m sorry, Emma. I’m not fit to be around people today. Just... tell me where to sign whatever you need signed and I’ll get out of your hair. Without speaking again. At all.”

She swallowed hard, took a deep breath, and nodded. “W-we could do this some other time, if that would be more convenient for you. Or, you could take these home with you and messenger them back. Normally we don’t do things that way, but...” She trailed off, her gaze intent on the tabletop.

“But I’m a train wreck today and you’re taking pity on me. You’re very kind. That’ll be fine. I’ll have these back to you by tomorrow. Wednesday at the latest. I promise.” He reached across the table for the rest of the paperwork. She handed it to him, eyes large and wary in her pale face.

Now he could track down Ransler, get that bastard to sign the contract, and check at least one thing off his list. After that, he’d concentrate on tracking down Ness and his beguiling accomplice. Josh tapped the papers into a stack and smiled. Emma watched him, hands folded on the table in front of her.

She was never effusive, sure, but he’d never known her to be this quiet before. He had been about to rise from his chair, but he paused. Instead, he reached across the table slowly and touched the back of her clasped hands. She watched the movement, brow slightly furrowed, some unfathomable expression shimmering in her eyes. Josh pressed his fingers against her cool, smooth skin. “Is everything alright, Emma? I hope you don’t mind me saying so, but you look a bit... peaked.”

Her lips jerked upward in a shaky smile, the first she’d managed since he entered the room. Her eyes remained troubled, though. “I’m fine, thank you. Just... readjusting to my work schedule.”