Charming You (Thirsty Hearts Book 1) (25 page)

Chapter Thirty-Five

C
onflict and worry nagged
at Nick the rest of the day, but by that night, he had found absolute clarity. He had a very expensive, last-minute ticket to Paris for the next day that he paid for it out of his own pocket. He'd logged his time off as vacation. This trip was all pleasure, no business. Thoughts of being with her in Europe and sharing that experience made him smile.

The only remaining detail was
how
to surprise her once he was there. He couldn't just stalk in the hotel lobby looking for her. The only way this was going to work was if it was an inside job. He knew just who could help. He called Jeff to get Taryn's number and dialed. Micky might say she didn't like surprises, but he was certain she would like this one.

Nick tapped his pen on the desk. It was 11:45 p.m. He needed to catch Taryn early before she headed out for the day. He figured 6:45 a.m. would be early enough, but not too early. He'd only met her once, but he gathered he should avoid pissing Taryn off—or at least, not waking her.

"Hello?" The remnants of sleep in Taryn's voice traveled easily across the Atlantic.

"Taryn. Hello. This is Nick Halden. Sorry to call you so early, but I wanted to catch you before you left for the day."

"Oh, Nick, hi. I was wondering who on God's earth would be calling this early. I'm just glad it's not some work emergency."

"Really sorry. I hope it's not too early."

"No, no, I'm up. Struggling, but up. I'm due downstairs to meet Micky in half an hour for breakfast. What can I do for you?"

"Micky's been so excited about the trip and having a few extra days. But you will have Jeff there, and she's still thrilled, but I…" Nick smacked his forehead as he stumbled around. "I thought I'd come out and spend those few days with her. I don't want to get in the way. I know you're there for work, so I'm calling to see what your schedule is. Would it be a problem if I arrived Wednesday morning?" Nick knew that was the final day of the event, but it would give him time to relax and have a full day of sightseeing the next day.

"Really? Yeah, that works. No, not a problem at all," Taryn assured him. "That's really great that you can come. We'll have so much fun as a foursome. Does she have any idea that you're doing this?"

"No. It should be a total surprise. I don't know when, though. I thought I'd catch her as soon as the event is over, or maybe meet you guys at dinner? Like I said, I'm not sure of your schedule."

"Hmm. It'll be a mess at the end of the day. No. You should meet up with her earlier. Here's what you do," Taryn began. Nick smiled. "I have a lunch meeting at 12:30 p.m. at the hotel to go over the accounting with our event company and the hotel manager. Micky is supposed to be at the conference center working the VIP lunch. I'll get her to switch with me. You be in the hotel lobby by one. You know which hotel we're at, right?"

"Yeah. Micky told me. Are you sure you'll be able to switch with her? That's not going to cause a problem, will it? I want to be conscious of not interfering with her work. I know this event is a big deal."

"No. This is great. I swear. We split duties, so we can just switch. She should be done shortly after one, maybe as late as one thirty, but I doubt it. Are you calling me on your cell phone? I can text you at this number if anything happens. The restaurant isn't that big, and there's only one exit through the lobby so you'll spot her if you keep your eye out."

"Perfect. Thank you for your help, Taryn. This is exactly what I needed, and I can take it from there."

"You don't have to thank me. I love nothing more than being in on a plot," Taryn assured. "I'm rubbing my hands together."

"I'll see you on Wednesday." Nick loved nothing more than a plan coming together.

The next morning, he arrived at his office early and made himself extra busy to avoid having another conversation with his managing partner. After the meeting at Moran Financial the afternoon before, he had his marching orders. They were trying to salvage the deal. Nick had nodded and gone along as if the whole thing weren't wonderfully doomed.

He went over his calendar to push his meetings off to other associates and clear his schedule. Getting out of town for three working days and a weekend would require lining up their assignments and getting the ball rolling on research and drafting discovery documents for their next deal. Block after block of meetings greeted him, then a happy hour get together with Vivienne. She'd called him over the weekend wanting to get together, but he put her off. She'd just have to wait until he got back. Obviously, Tom Moran still had no idea they weren't getting married, or by now, his ears would be blistered from another dressing down by his almost-father-in-law. Unease tightened his chest. When he got back, he was getting everything on the table with Tom—even if he had to tell the man himself. He needed to cut these loose threads in his life before everything unraveled.

Chapter Thirty-Six

T
he CEO
of Micky's company dropped his voice dramatically and then let it rise again. "I want to thank you for your attendance and your attention this morning. Behind your good work, I know that we'll make next year one of our most successful ever. We have staff to direct you to lunch, and I look forward to seeing many of you in our workshops this afternoon. Thank you!"

Micky turned over her wrist and looked down. It was 12:22 p.m. They could easily absorb the seven-minute overrun into the hour-and-a-half lunch. She spotted the CEO's admin who was in charge of getting him to his meeting with a key industry reporter before escorting him to do the business equivalent of shaking hands and kissing babies at the VIP luncheon.

The woman grabbed her boss by the arm and led him away to meet Taryn who was on the opposite side of the ballroom. Micky shook the other woman's hand with a smile. The control of an executive assistant should never be underestimated.

Micky rushed out of the room along with a throng of conference attendees. Taryn hated dealing with the CEO. As good as she was at her job, she had little tolerance for schmoozing an empty suit. The man could command a room, but up close, he could be arrogant, dismissive, and didn't project the same levels of competence. The emperor wasn't exactly naked, but he was in his underwear. Micky hadn't been surprised when Taryn had begged to switch assignments.

Once she handled the CEO, Micky hurried across the street to meet the manager of the hotel and settle their accounts thus far for the hotel room block, breakfasts, and the executive cocktail reception from the previous evening. The break on the attendees room rates depended on a certain food and beverage consumption from the group.

Micky had to make sure they were on track. If not, she'd have to fill the gap. She and Taryn discussed delivering some executive gifts to customers' rooms. Something they could easily take on a plane or something that could be shipped. They would need to decide.

The meeting took longer than Micky expected. First, they'd eaten a light lunch. Then, they conducted their business. Reviewing the bill, she noticed some charges that weren't in line with their contract.

"The water and sodas were to be half price in the reception area as long as we met our wine and liquor minimums, which we did." Micky pointed to the surplus charge.

"At that reception, the total was below 2,000 euros," Claude Berault, the hotel banquet manager, countered.

"The contract is for a total minimum across all events—averaging two thousand euros—but each event doesn't have to meet that minimum. We went well over that the next evening. I have the contract right here." Micky bent down to pull the contract from her bag.

As she straightened, she saw a tall, elegantly dressed man sitting on a bench just outside the restaurant entrance. A tall vase of flowers partially blocked his profile, but in a glimpse, he looked familiar. Micky blinked. It couldn't be him. How could he ever have taken the time off work? She missed Nick, but she'd never been prone to hallucinations.

"Madamemoiselle Llewellyn, I have the contract here," Claude rejoined. Micky turned back to him and shook the phantom image from her head. Claude pointed to the section of the contract referring to the food and beverage prices and minimum orders. Micky flipped through his copy and handed it back.

"That's not the final contract. We changed that clause. Here's a copy of the final signed version." She turned to the back page and pointed. "Here you see the signature from your manager and our purchasing department. The soft drinks were to be half price."

"Oh, yes, yes, I see. That isn't standard." The Frenchman frowned.

"Perhaps," Micky replied, smiling and glaring all at once. "But it is our agreement."

"Of course, I'll have the bill adjusted."

"Wonderful. You can make those adjustments, add in the final charges for today and tomorrow morning, and then send me the final tomorrow afternoon."

It was the one crimp in their plans for the next afternoon. She and Taryn would need to go over the final bill again at some point—particularly since there had been a contractual discrepancy. The pair went back and forth on a few more items, including the delivery of six executive gifts in the form of sleek Chopard rollerball pens.

"They should be placed in their rooms tonight with turndown service," Micky explained.

"This has been arranged.
Pas de problème
," the man finished in French.

With final agreement, she shook Claude's hand, and he left for his next appointment. Micky stayed at the table, finishing her coffee and checking email on her phone.

"That looked intense, but you seem to have gotten your way, which is hardly surprising. Maybe you missed your calling. You could have been an attorney."

Micky jerked her head up and around so quickly she nearly gave herself whiplash. She hadn't been dreaming. Nick was in Paris. He strode toward her, taking her hands and lifting her out of her seat before she could find her speech.

"I thought that was you. I saw a man sitting over on that bench, and he carried himself like you. I thought I was going crazy." Micky wound her arms around his neck, and they drew together into a tight embrace. Delicious. His scent of vanilla, sandalwood, and spice smelled like home.

She kissed the side of his neck, resisting the urge to taste him there. Micky could spend a lifetime with her face buried in the crook of his shoulder if she didn't need to kiss him so badly. Nick pulled her away from him just enough to snatch her closer again and seize on her mouth.

The noise of the lunch crowd faded to a distant buzz around her. Nick's hands swept up her back to her hair. Micky heard a faint laughter next to her and suddenly became conscious of her surroundings again. Stepping back, but staying in Nick's arms, she saw an older woman seated at the next table give her a wink. Micky turned back to Nick, embarrassed.

"I suppose I shouldn't get arrested for indecency my first day here. That's liable to happen if we don't stop," Nick mused.

"Sit for a minute. I don't have to be back over just yet," Micky explained. "What are you doing here?"

"I finally couldn't stand thinking about your being here enjoying Paris without me. So, I handed off some of my work and managed to take a few days."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I wanted it to be a surprise."

"I hate surprises."

"Do you?"

"Usually." Micky grinned. They still held hands. She squeezed his fingers in her palm. "I'll admit this one has its upside."

"And what's that?"

"Just that you're here, and we get to explore the city together." Micky swallowed hard, mentally shutting off the tears that inexplicably threatened her composure. "I can't believe you came."

"You know I couldn't let you run around the most romantic city in the world by yourself, beautiful. The last thing I need is some suave Frenchman stealing you away from me."

Micky lapsed into silence. She willed herself not to dissolve into a pool of emotion. Her hazel eyes met his bright green ones through a watery glaze. He stroked the inside of her wrist with his thumb. His touch filled her with sensations of comfort and expectation. No Frenchman stood a chance.

"How did you even know I was here? I mean, here in the restaurant, now?" Even as Micky asked the question, the obvious answer dawned on her. Nick laughed. "I'm going to kick Taryn. Switching meetings and keeping this a secret. I can't believe it."

"Don't hurt her. She was an excellent partner in crime."

"She did her job well. I'm totally floored. I wish I didn't still have some work to do this afternoon, and we're going out for a celebration dinner tonight with the team. You don't mind tagging along for at least part of the evening do you? I can't bail on the entire night."

"I don't want to interfere with what you've got going on. You do what you need to do. I can hang out and have a coffee while you finish up, and then I'm yours to do whatever you need me to do tonight. We can have dinner with just the two of us tomorrow or the next day. No worries."

"Whatever I need you to do, huh? I'll have to think of something," Micky considered, standing up and moving closer to Nick, leaning over. "Or at least think of a way to give you a proper thank you."

"That sounds very promising. You should find time to do that this afternoon."

"I don't think that'll be conducive to productivity, Nicholas," Micky admonished.

"Maybe I'm a little more interested in being a distraction that I let on." Nick grinned. Micky rolled her eyes with a sigh.

"This sucks, but I have to go," she said.

"I'll be right here. Just text me when you're done."

One more quick kiss, and Micky had to be on the move again. Leaving him felt like leaving part of herself behind.

A
pplause rolled forward
from the audience followed by the rippling murmur of the crowd—taxi arrangements, dinner plans, and sighs of relief from the staff, especially Micky and Taryn. Micky stood stage side, shaking the hands of the executives and accepting their compliments on how well the two-day event had gone.

Over the shoulder of the company's chief technology officer, Micky could see Taryn high-fiving the production crew on the stand at the back of the room. She delivered a few more back slaps and efforts to extend credit for the event to all of the people involved before winding her way to the back.

On her way, she spotted Tony Harcourt, the co-worker from the Chicago office through whom she'd met Eric. Micky saw him a few times in their workroom, but they hadn't spoken about anything other than work. The evening's plan included everyone hitting the town together to celebrate wrapping the show.

Tony caught Micky's eye over the shoulder of a short, stocky man in a suit that Micky didn't recognize. Micky watched him put out his right hand for a handshake and do a swim move to make any football player proud. Tony headed her way. Micky ran her fingers through her hair and forced a smile in Tony's direction.

"Hey, Micky. You going out with everybody later? We should catch up." A shift in the exiting crowd pushed him closer to her. Micky stepped backward.

"I have some friends in town, but I don't know what we have planned. I'll be at the team dinner though," Micky explained.

"Perfect. I can't wait to see you tonight then." Tony's eyebrows raised.

Micky kept the frozen smile on her face, her blood pressure rising. Even though she didn't blame him for Eric's behavior, Tony had never told her that Eric had a wife. She examined Tony's expensive suit and easy way with partners and customers. Charm city. Typical sales guy. It wasn't his fault, but his laissez-faire silence on Eric's marital status didn't recommend his character. The idea of a personal pow-wow with Tony spawned a tension headache that crept up from her clenched jaw.

A flash of motion redirected her attention. Taryn waved at her wildly from the audio control center at the back of the room. Escaping posed much less threat to her career than cursing out the head of sales operations.

"Sorry, Tony. I need to take care of a minor emergency before it becomes major. We'll talk at dinner." Micky walked past him as he sent a response trailing after her.

Dodging business suits, Micky exhaled loudly when she reached Taryn.

"What's up?" Micky asked.

"Nothing. Everything went off brilliantly. The event company is directing everyone out and has plans for teardown. I have the admins packing up the things we need. We're done. I just figured you didn't want to stand there and talk to Tony. That guy is so creepy."

"Thank you! I'm this close to breaking into 'Wind Beneath My Wings' from Beaches," Micky said, hugging her friend.

"Let's get out of here."

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