Cheesecake and Teardrops (12 page)

“So, how long have you been with Canyon's Club?” he asked.

“Eight years.”

“Is this your first job fair?”

“No, it's my third. How about you?”

“I have been to more job fairs than I care to remember.”

“So, how is it working for the FBI?”

“Well, I travel a lot, and there's never a dull moment. I'm probably one of the few people who can honestly say that I love my job.”

The waiter returned with their lunch. It was piping hot and smelled divine. They waited for their meals to cool.

Tangie quickly said her grace, and when she opened her eyes, Tony was smiling.

“Do you always bless your food?” he asked.

“Since I was a little girl. Some things stay with you.”

“I think it's wonderful.”

They began to eat. “You're right. This is good,” she admitted.

“So what does Tangie stand for?”

“Tangela.”

“Tangela,” he said slowly, putting his fork down. “I like that. Mind if I call you Tangela?”

“That's my name.” She grinned, taking a sip of bottled water. She liked the way her name rolled off his tongue.

She shook her head. “This shrimp is really good.”

“I guess our first date was a success, but for me the only thing missing is your phone number.”

“Well, that should be a piece of cake for you, Mr. FBI.”

“Yeah, and I have one helluva sweet tooth.” He winked at her.

Charisma was ticked off with Dex. Ever since Thanksgiving, he had been sniffing around her like a puppy.

He was constantly dropping by her house unannounced to the point where she had to forbid him from coming by without calling first. It was getting ridiculous. When she stopped answering her doorbell, he realized that she meant business. He called her one night and told her he was coming by. He didn't ask her. He told her. That's when she decided enough was enough.

“What time did you leave work today?” he asked the minute he walked through the door.

“What?”

“You heard me. What time did you leave work? Seems like you've been working a lot of overtime.”

“Not that I owe you an explanation, but I'm working on a special project.”

“Yeah, boning your boss. It must take a lot of energy. Let's see. Where do you begin? There's the conference room, the ladies' lounge, and let's not forget his desktop. That's like the headquarters of the entire operation. Am I right?” he asked with disgust.

“You oughtta quit your day job and head for Hollywood 'cause you'd make one helluva writer,” Charisma said.

“And we both know you have one helluva sweet ass, don't we. You been giving my stuff away? Huh?”

“You're crazy.”

“Well, I don't share.”

“You should know by now that I'm a one-man woman.”

“I saw you two were checking each other out on Thanksgiving and the guilty look on your face when you saw me. You must think I'm stupid. Don't insult my intelligence, okay?”

“I said nothing is going on. Now, if you're looking for something, I'll make sure you find it.”

“Are you threatening me?”

“Look, I don't have time for this, Dex. I really don't. It's been a long day, and I don't feel like arguing. So if you don't mind, my bed is calling me.”

“Yeah, and I bet your boss's is too.”

“Good-bye, Dex.” Charisma walked to the front door, opened it, and waited for Dex to walk through. She wasn't in the mood for his crap tonight, especially when she had a meeting first thing in the morning.

 

Charisma got to work bright and early. She rode the elevator up with Nate, but he barely said more to her than a polite good morning. She noticed that he had turned rather cool toward her ever since Thanksgiving. Was he avoiding her? No more laughing and joking around and no more “dates.” It was now strictly business, and their conversations were limited to work. Then again, maybe he was just flipping the script and playing hard to get. Men were famous for that.

Charisma poured herself a big cup of coffee before heading into the conference room for her first meeting of the day. It was only thirty degrees outside when she woke up that morning, and the fresh, hot brew hit the spot. She couldn't believe how the temperature had dropped overnight, but winter was definitely here. No more cute little leather jackets. It was time for cashmere sweaters and fur.

After the staff of Freeman LTD was seated, Nate walked in. Miss Crappuccino was close behind, flirting with the boss as usual. Evidently, something got her in to work early that morning.

“How much you wanna bet she's baiting her trap?” Lauren leaned over and whispered in Charisma's ear.

“With what?” Charisma whispered back. “Dark meat has
so
much more flava.”

Nate took his seat at the head of the conference table and the meeting began. “I just received an e-mail from our corporate office. Unfortunately, we've lost the Emerson account.

Apparently, Emerson felt that a larger marketing firm with more resources would be to his advantage. So, of course with the loss of that account comes a loss in projected revenue.”

Charisma's eyes scanned the room. Everyone seemed absorbed in what Nate was saying. He made eye contact with many but avoided hers. She watched him from across the room, her eyes settling on his lips as he spoke and wondering what it would be like to . . .

The meeting lasted another half hour and included a PowerPoint presentation of the company's goals for the coming year. Concluding, Nate stressed the importance of maintaining their reputation of excellence.

The meeting ended, and Charisma returned to her office.

Just as she was about to read her e-mail, the phone rang. In her haste to answer the phone, she knocked over her cup of coffee, spilling it all over the papers on her desk as well as her lap. She was wearing a turquoise wool suit. She jumped up and grabbed some tissue to mop up the mess with one hand and picked up the phone with the other.

It was Nate.

“Yes, Nate.”

“Charisma, I need to see you in my office.”

“I just spilled coffee all over myself. Can you give me a second?”

“Sure, I'll see you in a few.”

She headed straight for the ladies' lounge to blot out the coffee from her skirt before it stained. Then she took a handful of damp paper towels back to her office to clean her desk. Finally, she went in to see her boss.

“Close the door, Charisma.” She did as she was told and sat down.

Nate was seated behind his desk with his elbows resting on the arms of the chair, clutching his hands as though he was about to crack his knuckles. He looked at her for a moment without speaking.

“How's it going?” he asked.

“Fine.”

He got up from his seat and walked over to the front of his desk, where he sat down with one foot dangling in the air. He chose his words carefully.

“I think we've been playing this cat-and-mouse game long enough. First, you play hard to get, and I chase you. Then, I act uninterested and all business, and you're drawn to me even more. We're two adults. Let's be honest with ourselves and each other and admit that there's something between us.”

“Nate, I don't know what to say.”

“You don't know what to say, Charisma? Please, let's cut the bull. Okay? You want me just as much as I want you. We both know that. Stop acting like a child and start acting like my woman. How's that love of your life, by the way? What's his name again, Dex?” He smirked.

“I don't have to take this,” she said, getting up to leave.

He caught her just as she reached the door, his hand covering her hand that covered the doorknob. Nate turned Charisma around to face him. He rested his back up against the door and pulled her toward him.

He smelled so damn good. It was intoxicating. Of course, she was attracted to him too.
Why was she fighting it?
“Then do
this
,” he said, his voice husky.

Charisma put her hands on his shoulders and looked up into his eyes. He held her so close she could barely breathe, and yet her heart was racing a mile a minute. His lips were only inches from hers.

Who the hell am I kidding?
she asked herself, ready to give into her desires.

Just then the phone rang, ruining the moment and snapping Charisma back to her senses.

“Damn!” he said simply, releasing her and sprinting back to his desk. He answered the phone, motioning for Charisma to stay.

She shook her head, and he put the caller on hold.

“This isn't over, Charisma.”

“That's what
you
think. I hope you enjoyed yourself, Nate, because this will
never
happen again. E
ver
.”

“Not only will it happen again, Charisma, it'll happen sooner than you think.”

“You're a trip,” she said, shaking her head and leaving him to his phone call.

 

Charisma steered clear of her boss, making certain that their only interactions were job related. She spoke only when spoken to and did her very best to stay out of his way, but one evening as she prepared to leave, he cornered her in her office. Everyone else had gone home for the day.

“How's the Madison account coming along?” he asked, sliding both hands in his pockets.

“It's right on schedule, Nate.”

“Excellent. We need to talk. You've been avoiding me, Charisma. We need to talk.”

“About what?” she asked as she packed up her briefcase, her back to him.

“About us.”

“What us? There is no us.”

“You are in serious denial. Why are you fighting it? It's just a matter of time before we get together.”

Charisma turned around to face him. “Nate, let me explain something to you. I have a man.”

“And when's the last time you've seen him?”

She hesitated just slightly. “That's . . .”

“That long, huh? Who are you kidding, Charisma? I know he does it
to
you, but he doesn't do it
for
you. What you need is a
real
man.”

“And I take it you're that man? You see this?” she asked, feeling the outline of her body with her hands. “Let me just say that you will never, ever taste this.”

Nate began to laugh, a deep, hearty laugh. “Sweetheart, never is a long time. You enjoy your evening.”

 

Charisma arrived home late that night took a nice, long shower. She made the water as cold as she could stand it and then headed off to bed. Before long she was out like a light.

Charisma walked along the beach in the moonlight. She paused for a moment while Nate spread the blanket onto the sand. They were alone with the ocean. He sat down first and beckoned for her to sit on his lap. She wore only a white tank top and a full, island print skirt that grazed her legs just bellow the knee. Obliging, she sat in his lap, and he covered them both with a second blanket. With one swift motion, he slid his hand underneath her skirt and unzipped his fly. She repositioned herself on his lap until they were both satisfied. Kissing, they gently rocked to the sounds of the ocean. Yet, at the same time, they were oblivious to them. He held her close and buried himself in her neck, loving the scent of her hair. Then, he slid his arms underneath her top, massaging first her strong back and then her breasts, one at a time. He bent down and slid one breast into his mouth, loving the taste and fullness of it.

Before long, she was panting and they were both rocking underneath the blanket. He stiffened as he came while her cries of pleasure rolled out to sea with the waves....

Charisma woke up with a jolt. Her nightgown was soaked, clinging to places she tried to deny. Shamefully, she ran her hand through her hair in an attempt to catch her breath.

Still flushed, she got up and headed for the bathroom. Then she thought better of it. She couldn't dare to face herself in the mirror.

Luckily, the alarm clock went off a little over an hour later and she had other things to occupy her time—like getting ready for work. Then she realized that she'd have to see
him
. And in an office the size of theirs, there was no place to hide.

She decided to go nondescript. She'd wear a pair of black wool slacks and a black cashmere turtleneck. She refused to wear anything that would draw attention to her person. She didn't want his eyes feasting on her body any longer than necessary.

Charisma drove to work and circled the building twice looking for a parking spot. She was hoping that her boss's car would be nonexistent and that he'd decided to take the day off. As luck would have it, though, they ended up sharing an elevator. It was just the two of them. So she pretended to be engrossed in the morning paper to discourage any attempts at conversation. Unfortunately, it didn't work.

“Was it good for you too?” he asked her point-blank.

“Was what good for me?”

“The dream you had about us last night. It must have been hot because you look positively radiant this morning.”

Her answer was a swift slap across the face.

“I take it that means yes.” He grinned, rubbing his stinging cheek.

As the elevator door opened, she stepped off, fuming.

Why hadn't she had a quick comeback for his arrogance?

Now she felt like an idiot. If she left early, she'd feel like a fool, and if she stayed the entire day she wouldn't be able to look him in the eye. It was a no-win situation. Charisma wondered if her coworkers were aware of any sexual tension between her and Nate. If they were, they kept it to themselves, and Chase was probably too busy plotting and scheming herself to pay Charisma any mind.

Charisma worked all day on the Madison account, tabulating data from various demographics. The report was due by close of business Friday, and it was already Wednesday.

She stopped at 5:00
P.M.
, too exhausted to work any overtime. She wanted nothing more than to curl up with a hot cup of homemade cocoa and get some much-needed rest. Funny, as she drifted off to sleep, her last thought was whether or not she had remembered to lock her computer.

 

A well-rested Charisma got to work bright and early Thursday morning. The first thing Charisma did was check her computer. Dag, she
had
forgotten to lock it, but from the looks of her files, everything appeared to be untouched.

She headed for the conference room and put on a fresh pot of coffee. It was an unwritten office rule that whoever got in first made the coffee.

By the time Charisma returned to her office, she realized that she wasn't the only one in. Evidently, Chase had made it in early as well. Normally, she worked from 10:00
A.M.
to 4:00
P.M.
on Thursdays, but apparently, something had gotten her up early that morning. Charisma chose to ignore Miss Crappuccino.

There was still much to do on the Madison account. When Charisma accessed the file, the data looked strangely unfamiliar. Her flying fingers began typing a mile a minute.

Someone had deleted all her hard work, and the report was due Friday. Damn, how could she have been so careless?

And what the hell was Chase doing in so early?