Mad About You (3 page)

“Hel-lo. Earth to Scott.”

Finally, he glanced up, his fingers still poised above the computer keys. Frowning, he said, “I told you…”

“Listen up, because you’re busy and you only have time to hear this once.” She slapped her notebook on top of a pad of scribbled calculations. “I drew up a list of potential investors in the Seattle area.”

Scott quickly scanned the list. “How come there are only three? And what’s this about a cocktail party? You know I’m not interested in socializing.”

“This is the A-list of investors,” she explained. “We target the big guns first. If we fail with them, then I’ll draw up a B-list. First up is Ray White, owner of BioTech Enterprises, and a philanthropist renowned for giving seed money to medium-sized companies about to break into the big time.”

“I’ve heard of him. He also has a habit of taking over those companies he helps.”

“You don’t have to sell.”

“Ever heard of a hostile takeover?”

“Okay, we’ll put him on hold for the moment. Then there’s Richard Kwong. He lives in Seattle but he has a pharmaceutical factory in Taiwan and is well-placed to manufacture your Dreamcatcher. That is, if I’ve got it right that you’ll need laboratory facilities?”

“I do. But I’d planned to create jobs here in the States.”

“That’s noble of you, but we need to be realistic. The labor costs…”

“Local manufacturing,” he insisted. “Part of your brief is to make that happen. I’m serious about this.”

Cassy met his gaze steadily, but she ended up blinking first. A wise general not only picked her battles, but also chose when those battles took place. “We’ll discuss that later, when we find your angel investor.”

She stabbed a finger on the third name on her list. “Lorraine Dempsey is a mining magnate from Australia. She inherited a fortune in iron ore mines and the Chinese resources boom has turned her company into a global steel empire. Now she wants to diversify and she’s over here looking for investment opportunities. She’s going to be at tonight’s cocktail party at the Australian Consulate. She’s our target.”

“I don’t have time for cocktail parties. You were supposed to spare me all that. Send her our prospectus and arrange a meeting when she’s had a few days to look it over.”

“We’ll do that, too. But you can’t discount the impact of schmoozing in a social atmosphere. Especially with women. They like the personal touch.”

Scott got to his feet and paced to the window overlooking the landscaped grounds of the light industrial park. His folded arms strained the back of his shirt across his broad shoulders. He stood with his long legs spread, narrow black jeans hugging a muscular butt and thighs. Cassy dragged her glance away from his sexy ass to the top of his head. May sunshine, rare as diamonds in Seattle, streamed through the window and set off fiery sparks in his dark brown hair. Damn, but he was hot.

“You’ll have to come with me, pretend to be my girlfriend,” he said.

“Naturally.”

He glanced at her over his shoulder, an odd, unreadable expression on his face. “That won’t bother you? After all, I’m not your type.”

Why was he making a big deal? A fine thread of tension imperceptibly tightened the atmosphere in the office. “This is part of my brief. You’re certainly paying me enough. I’ll put on a clown suit and waltz through Pioneer Square if that’s what it takes to get an investor for your Dreamcatcher.”

“So it won’t cause any problems for you back in Bellingham with a real boyfriend? You haven’t mentioned anyone in ages.”

Oh, so that’s what he was getting at. It wasn’t about him and her at all. She covered her unaccountable disappointment with a shrug. “I’m not seeing anyone right now.”

Scott perched on the edge of a table covered in computer printouts of calculations. “Just out of curiosity, what is your type?”

Charismatic intellectual with a body like an athlete and a vulnerable heart he protects with work, work, and more work.

“Come on, Scott. You’ve known me since we were seven.” Why did he want to know? Was it at all possible that he wondered if she’d ever be romantically interested in him?

“Back then your type was any boy who could catch tadpoles in a jar.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “Update me.”

“The last guy I went out with was Daryl, a real estate agent.”

“Hell, Cass, you can do better than that.”

“He was a nice guy. And real estate is good, honest work. At least he was honest.”

“So why did you two break up?”

“I wasn’t ready to settle. I mean, settle down.” She kicked at an exercise ball. It bounced off the rowing machine and came back to hit her in the shin. Typical. Typical of what, she didn’t know. Just…typical.

“You bought a house with a backyard and a picket fence. All that’s missing is a dog and a cat and two-point-three children. And yet you’re alone.”

“I’ve got Rupert.” Cassy turned away to hide the sting she was afraid would show on her face. Scott would never deliberately hurt her, but sometimes he didn’t realize how blunt he sounded. His casual observation stabbed deep, and the sharpness of the pain put her on the offensive. “You should count yourself lucky those things are missing from my life. If I had a dog and kids and a husband I wouldn’t be able to drop everything and race up here at your beck and call. Doesn’t that tell you something?”

“It tells me you’re a good friend. A great friend.” He paused and said simply, “The best friend I’ve ever had.”

Friends. So much for her vain hope that he might wish she was interested in him. She kicked the ball again. “Why are we talking about this anyway? I don’t want to argue, or explain who I’m seeing or not seeing, or what I’m doing with my life.” She laughed, trying to lighten up. “If I want this kind of interrogation I’ll call my mother in Spokane.”

“Okay, okay. Sorry. I was just curious. We’ve drifted a little the past few years.”

It was true. As she gazed at him, so gorgeous and smart and strong—so caring—she suddenly realized why she hadn’t made the effort to see more of him. It was hard to be around him, just being friends but wanting more and knowing it was never going to happen. Shit. She’d been kidding herself if she thought she was over her crush.

But neither had she gone too far away from him, either, like to Harvard. Jeez, was that what was holding her back? How dumb was that? At the very least, she could have done an MBA right here in Seattle at the University of Washington. Why hadn’t she?

“Well, we’re together now. Working, sharing an apartment.” She dug deep and found another smile. “It’ll be like the old days.” Except now that her inconvenient attraction had resurfaced, those innocent days were gone for good. Briskly, she gathered up her notepad. “I’ll let you get back to work.”

Cassy shut the door behind her and strode through the open-plan office, trying not to feel depressed about Scott. It was great that they were such good friends. He’d given her the hugest compliment just now. Really, there was nothing to feel bad about.

From the corner of her eye, she saw three heads bob above cubicle partitions in her wake. Hello! So far, the geeks were friendly but shy, her nice breasts notwithstanding.

Tom was thirty-five going on fourteen, and wore sweatshirts with slogans and mismatched socks. He usually worked in the adjoining lab, supervising a team of assistants, but today he was in the office. Park was a South Korean whiz kid with a buzz cut, a neckerchief, and red Converse high-tops, who was plugged into K-pop all day long. Leonard was twenty-two going on fifty with Coke-bottle glasses and, beneath his lab coat, a checked shirt tucked into pleated pants.

Leonard rose, knocking over his chair. He made an attempt to right it and while he was bent over, his glasses fell off. Cassy smiled and crouched to retrieve them. Whoops! Showing a little too much cleavage for the average nerd brain to handle.

Scott was supersmart like these guys, but what attracted her was his more rounded personality. He was sexy and sporty and he had passions besides science, like mountain biking, social justice, and native flora and fauna. The geeks were great in their own way but Scott was in a class of his own.

Cassy smiled sympathetically at Leonard, who’d turned bright red. With a sheepish grin he ducked back into his cubicle. She went back to her own desk in an alcove near the lobby door, and did a Google search on Lorraine Dempsey. Within seconds she had fifty thousand or so matches. Excellent. She would research the woman thoroughly and brief Scott before the cocktail party tonight.

When she’d bookmarked several sites to read later, she did another search and pulled up a list of boutiques. Her plan was to leave the office early and shop for a hot dress. As Scott’s ersatz girlfriend it was important that she look glamorous and sexy.

Friend. Best friend.
Best friend ever
. Damn it, it wasn’t enough. Scott was so sure she wouldn’t distract him. As his office manager and financial consultant, she applauded his self-control. As his best friend, she admired his confidence. As a woman whose vanity had been piqued, a tiny voice inside said,
We’ll just see about that.

…

That evening, Cassy studied herself critically in the mirror. The plunging neckline and discreet side slit showed enough skin to be tantalizing but not slutty, and the silky red fabric was snug enough to highlight her curves without revealing any unsightly bulges. Perfect.

The Australian Consulate was hosting the cocktail party so that its trade delegation could meet American businessmen and -women. No doubt the guest list would also include attractive young females handpicked from among Seattle celebrities.

In other words, tonight would be a war zone. As Scott’s front line defense against these women, she needed to pull out the big guns. Or in this case, the big girls. She tugged down the neckline, exposing another quarter inch of cleavage. Not that her girls were so very big, but they were firm, and that counted with guys. Or so she’d always been led to believe.

She twisted her hair into a loose knot, made the final touches to her makeup, spritzed on perfume, and slipped into a pair of red high heels. As she walked down the carpeted hallway to the living room, her stomach gave a little flutter. Would Scott notice her appearance? Would he care?

He was standing in profile, gazing out the floor-to-ceiling windows. He’d earned his “sexiest man” tag despite his habitual attire of T-shirts, jeans, and mountain biking gear. When he was dressed up and freshly shaven, with his hair slicked back and his athletic physique showcased in a narrow black dress suit, well, he shot to the top of the sexy stratosphere.

She followed his gaze. Past the Olympic Peninsula, far out to sea, a frontal system was rolling in off the Pacific.

“Looks like I won’t be able to ride tomorrow…” He turned as he spoke and his words faded away. For a moment, he just stared at her, speechless. Finally, he cleared his throat. “Wow! You look amazing.”

“Firewall at your service.” She saluted smartly, then nervously bustled around, getting her coat out of the hall closet. “I asked Martin to call us a taxi. It’s probably here already.”

Scott held her coat and she slipped her arms through the sleeves. “If you’re going to pretend to be my girlfriend we should observe the formalities, right?”

“Right,” she said casually, as if she weren’t hyperaware of him standing so close. She turned and smoothed down his collar, fascinated by the pulse beating in his tanned skin at the base of his neck. What was she doing noticing his body in such detail? Yet she found herself adding, “We might have to hold hands or something, too.”

He reached for her right hand and entwined his long fingers with hers. The warm pressure of his palm against hers sent a shimmer of electricity up her arm. “This feels strange.”

“We’ll just have to pretend to like it.” She paused, wondering how far she could push this. “Maybe you should practice putting your arm around me.”

“Like this?” He slid his arm around her waist and turned so they faced their reflections in the hall mirror. “We could pass for a couple.”

“I guess.” Cassy forgot to breathe. Scott standing so close, with his hard body pressing into her side, sent tingles over, through, and around her, like a rising spiral of cartoon sparkles in some damn Disney movie. But hell. It
was
magic to be dressed to the nines and going out with the most wonderful man in the world.

Daryl had been a nice guy—stable and kind—and he’d adored her. But something had been missing. Something was always missing with other guys—the spark that got her hot and bothered and sent her out of control. Sex was usually…competent. Often good, but rarely great and never spectacular. She knew what brought her to orgasm and she wasn’t shy about asking for it. But just once she wished a man would know intuitively.

Just once she wanted fireworks, rockets going off, a moon launch in her bed.

Gazing into the mirror, she mentally stripped away Scott’s suit. It almost felt indecent to do that to a friend but she couldn’t help it. Her imagination filled in the gaps in her knowledge. Broad shoulders, sculpted chest and abs, long and muscular legs. For a guy who spent so much time in front of a computer or a microscope, he had a great body. Besides his mountain biking, he kept fit by working out. His apartment was equipped with a gym and so was his workplace.