Love Emerged (3 page)

Then, as if I asked for it, he switches spots with Tim, and he’s standing there with those mouth-watering dimples on high alert. Through a sliver of space between Big Vic from the mailroom and Ben from design, he’s clearly visible. And I can’t take my eyes off him.

A high-end tailored suit contours his broad shoulders, buttoned down past his taut waist. No tie but a nice, crisp gray shirt lies under his jacket with the top button undone. His hair is freshly cut, and the small waves are now gelled into a style that doesn’t suit him as well as the messy morning look.

As if he can spot me in the crowd of one hundred, our eyes catch, and my throat dries. For the first time in my life, I’m speechless. My body warms, and I don’t know if it’s because of the intimate things I shared with him that night or the fact that, besides Piper, he’s the first one in so long who seems to care for me.

“Hello, Deaconators.” He laughs. “Surely, we can find a better name than that, Tim.” He clasps Tim on the shoulder and winks.

The room uproars into laughter, and I can’t stop the smile sneaking across my lips.

“I’m happy to be here. I’m originally from the Detroit area. I grew up forty minutes outside of the city. I did my internship at AdSec in New York, but I wanted to come back home to my roots. So, here I am.”

He does a bow just like Tim, and I know he’s already mimicking his new boss. Dylan has a dry sense of humor, much like my own. He adds on a little wave of his hand in front of him, and suddenly, I wish we were back in the eighteen hundreds, and he was asking for my hand at a dance.

No, you don’t. Stop that line of thinking,
I scold myself.

The room claps again, and Dylan stands there, absorbing the attention.
He’s the glory boy, huh?

“You okay?” Kevin asks as everyone funnels out of the room.

“Yes, why?” I toss my own coffee in the trash can in the corner, not needing anything to further warm my veins.

“You look a little flushed, that’s all.” He laughs and brushes by Big Vic to make his exit. “See you at lunch,” he singsongs, leaving me behind. Thinking twice, he turns, his feet continuing to move with the line of traffic. He raises his cup in the air. “Thanks for the coffee, Bea Zanders. Tomorrow’s on me.”

He smiles, and I glance over to Dylan. He’s shaking hands with a line of women currently attempting to dig up his credentials. Married, engaged, or single?

Those green hues sparkle to me like emeralds in a jewelry store, and I hold his gaze. I’m surprised he doesn’t seem as shocked as I am, but instead more curious. Then, a slow smirk crosses his lips, and he turns to the woman touching his bicep. He shakes her hand, and before the next desperate woman can slide into her spot, he breaks free. Zigzagging between the throng of people, he lightly acknowledges the pats on his back, congratulations, and good-to-meet-you’s, but his eyes are focused solely on mine.

My body buzzes with alarm, feasting on his eyes bearing happiness. Once he finally breaks free, his fingers slide down my arm, capturing my hand, and he veers us away from the stampede.

“Hey you, I didn’t know you worked here,” he says, pulling me into a corner.

My eyes ping to the people sneaking looks over to us as they leave the room. He’s way too close, so I sidestep, leaving a few inches of space between us.

“Yeah, for two years. I didn’t even know you were in advertising.” I’m surprised, in all the mundane conversations we had in the three days we were stuck together during Brad’s wedding celebration, neither one of us talked about majors or where we worked. Of course, for me, I was only interested in one thing—his body—which I was finally successful in claiming.

“So, you’re on the team? Tim just gave me a quick brief when I came in this morning, and I have no idea how the name Bea didn’t flicker anything. Sometimes, I can be a dumbass.”

Obviously, our night together hasn’t been keeping his dreams filled with the hot sex. This man in front of me has given me enough visuals to vibrate myself into stuporville for a good year.

“Yep.” I roll back on my heels, looking down the hallway. “Gossip is pretty vast around here, so I think if we keep it simplistic—we’re connected through my best friend and your brother—we should be good.”

He looks down at me for longer than a normal beat, and my heart hammers against the wall of my chest.

“Yeah, we don’t need to be in the gossip ring. I’m here to succeed, and that’s it.” He glances over my shoulder and nods his head.

I turn around, finding new Miss Receptionist waving at him.

I’m going to ignore that pang in my heart for the time being because Dylan is no one to me. He’s my best friend’s boyfriend’s brother, who I happened to have sex with, and that’s all.

“Yeah. Well, I’d better get going. Good luck.” I nod and then twist around on my new stiletto heels and leave him standing there, hopefully staring right at my ass, remembering how great it felt nuzzled up to his dick two months ago.

Dylan

“Fuck me,” I murmur under my breath.

No one can know that the girl I fucked two months ago is a member on my team, the team I’ve been promised to be in charge of in a month’s time. Now, with this hiccup of Bea being on said team, I’m screwed.

At least I played off the fact that when Tim had mentioned a Bea working here, my dick didn’t twitch in my pants. She can’t know how many times I’ve rethought of her mouth on me. In the past two nights, my hand has wrapped around myself just to relieve the pressure the visual gives me. When I said Bea didn’t ring any bells, her eyes moved past my face, and I almost reneged, but I pushed on, giving the receptionist who’s been eye-fucking me since I arrived this morning a flirty smile. Bea has to know what happened between us was nothing, and there won’t be a second round.

My eyes veer down to her ass in the snug black pencil skirt and her black heels, only straining my slacks into a tighter fit. Damn, I hope this is her good outfit, and the rest of the week, she’ll be hidden in flowery long skirts and sizeable blouses. If I know Bea though, she’ll taunt me every day.

I’m on my way out of the conference room when a petite girl with long dark hair and innocent brown eyes crosses the distance between us. If I thought Bea was dressed provocatively, I was wrong. This girl’s blouse dips so far down that I can see the little bow adhered on her red bra. Nice cleavage though.

“Hi, I’m Yasmin.” She holds out her delicate hand, and I shake it.

“Nice to meet you, Yasmin. You’re on my team, right?” I doubt there’s another Yasmin, just like there’s no other Bea.

“Yes, we’re going to be cubicle partners, so I thought I’d introduce myself.”

“Hello, Yasmin, my cubicle partner.”

I smile, my dimples deepening, and her body leans a little closer to me.

“So, I heard you were talking to Bea Zanders. Do you know her or something?” she asks. Suddenly, this friendly conversation turns investigative, and she’s not exactly smooth in her transition.

“My brother dates her best friend.”

“Brother? There are two of you?” she asks.

My lips turn into a tight smile. Not original at all, and I really hope she’s better at coming up with ad campaigns than she is at flirting.

“Yes. He’s older and very taken.”

My brother just recently went back to Colorado with the girl who had won his heart at the age of six—our next-door neighbor, Piper Ashby. That left me with Piper’s twin brother, Brad, as my roommate since he called off his wedding.

“And what about you?” She walks a little closer, and occasionally, her shoulder brushes my arm.

“Yes, I’m taken by Deacon Advertising.” I see Tim in the hallway, standing outside his office, waving me over. “If you’ll excuse me, Yasmin, I have to earn my reputation.” I smile over to her and don’t wait for a response.

“I’ll be waiting for you,” she hollers over at the exact time I pass the restroom.

Bea walks out. She stops dead in her footsteps and stares between Yasmin and me.

“Hmm . . . you making the rounds?” She breezes by me, leaving that smell of vanilla behind.

There goes my dick again, and if I didn’t care so much about its well-being, I’d smack it down to submission.

I look up, and Tim’s waiting for me at the door of his office, impatience spreading through his bushy eyebrows.

I need to work Bea out of my system because I need this job. I have to prove that I’m worth the double salary I’m being paid, compared to everyone else in my position. That I’m the man who will eventually run this company. There’s one, and
only
one, thing I need to focus on, and that’s work.

Tim ushers me into his office, closing the door behind me.

“Dylan, I need you to be frank with me. Are you seeing Bea Zanders?”

Seriously, shit around here is fierce and fast. They give high school a run for its money.

“No, Tim, but I do know her.”

“You do? You mind me asking, what is the nature of your relationship?” He leans back, his hands wrapped around the edge of his desk.

Watching his knuckles turn white, I wonder why exactly he cares so badly.

“Would it be a problem if we were involved? I don’t remember reading anything about fraternization within the company.” I cross my leg, resting my ankle on my opposite knee, and lean back into my chair.

This douche isn’t about to intimidate me—even though a growing fear inside of me is rising that this guy wants, has, or still is very much in Bea’s life and not just as a boss-employee relationship.

“There’s no policy, but it’s frowned upon. Maybe not so much with the ordinary people out there.”

Are we really calling Bea Zanders ordinary?

“But with you, me, and the execs, there should be no veering over that line.”

“I’m technically not an exec yet.” I fight even though I have no intention of dating anyone in this company, including Bea. I just don’t like the way Tim’s pissing around her, like a damn dog marking his territory.

“Dylan”—he sighs, his fist clenching one more time along the edge of the ornate desk—“when we hired you, you were given what we expected and what we promised. If all goes like we’ve planned, you’ll be an exec before the year’s end.”

Shit, I’ll be running this place, including you, Tim.

“Listen, Tim”—I stand up, towering over him by at least two inches—“I’m at Deacon for one reason, and that’s to gain new accounts, work your old ones, and make this the number one company for advertising in the Midwest. As far as my personal affairs, they’re my affairs and my business. I don’t see the two ever crossing over, so I think we can put an end to this conversation.”

I wind around the chair toward the door.

“Dylan?” he calls out.

I stop, turning around.

“I didn’t mean to offend you. It’s just that someone said they saw the two of you huddled in the corner.”

“It’s strictly platonic. A friendship of sorts. That’s all.”

The dickhead smiles, victory staining his face. The urge to tell him how nice her ass fit in my hands is overpowering, but I push the pissing contest down because I need the job, not another girl to break my damn heart.

Bea

I RUSH OUT OF MY
cubicle, shoving my laptop in my bag as quickly as possible, to escape everyone—well, actually, to escape Dylan specifically. Not that he notices me very much. We’ve had no interaction since yesterday, and that’s fine by me. Except for the small doorway dance we had when I was entering the break room to refill my morning coffee. He didn’t seem half as engrossed as I did though. It’s a shame, too, because I’d gladly continue our friends-with-benefits incognito. Not many men have made me come twice in one night, which is a sad fact that I should probably keep to myself.

“Night, Bea.” The dark-haired receptionist, who made it a second day, waves to me.

I wave back, being polite.

The elevator dings open, and I release a breath, seeing it’s empty. No end-of-the-day chitchat with anyone needed. I sneak in and press the lobby button, praying since it’s five to five, my trip down will be one of silence. It’s cruel enough that I’m being summoned to have dinner with Mommy tonight. She flew in for a one-night stay to talk about some important things. Usually, I would ditch her, make an excuse of a dire client meeting or lie and say I’m out of town. But her voice was stilted, and I was worried about her, so I agreed to a short dinner.

Just as the elevator doors move together, a hand intrudes into my solace, and they spring back open. My head falls back in disbelief for a moment when I find Dylan waltzing in. Out of all the people, this is whom I have to ride down with—the man who is completely unaffected by the sex we shared.

“Leaving early?” he asks, finding his spot on the opposite corner of the elevator.

“I have an appointment. I’ll be working tonight, if you must know.”

The case of Kuppy’s Ice Cream Shop needs its new ad, and if I want to impress Tim, every waking hour had better be made researching that no one else has the logo I’ve developed.

“Oh, I wasn’t suggesting.” He holds his palm up, the same one I grinded against—strong and hard—to release the pressure he’d built up inside me.