Tailored for Trouble: A Romantic Comedy (Happy Pants) (4 page)

At eight o’clock the next morning, Taylor sprang from the bed in Jack’s guest room, feeling more energized and hopeful than she had in years. Even her urge to deep clean the house from top to bottom had been absent last night for the first time in months thanks to all the heartfelt hugs, good food, and great wine. No one had brought up the crash or the J.O.B. topic, and a different, more positive vibe had lingered in the air all night. Something about seeing her family’s reaction made her think. Maybe it wasn’t that people couldn’t change; it simply took the right catalyst to get them to open up those hidden, more caring behaviors.

That was the key—the one thing missing from her training course. The question now was how to unlock the compassion inside all those stiff, cold executives.

She needed a test case. And Bennett Wade would be perfect.

Taylor bounced downstairs, knowing that Jack, a plastic surgeon who specialized in reconstructive surgery, had already left for work. She began combing through his cupboards, looking for coffee, but found the kitchen void of any real food.

Eesh…
She opened the refrigerator.
Double eesh.
Leftovers from last night’s dinner, sour milk, and a loaf of bread.

Poor Jack.
He used to be a major foodie, but that had been before his wife cheated and left him for another woman. A patient of his, no less. The saddest part of all was that he and Doris, his ex-wife, had been best friends since the second grade. Inseparable. Ball games, marathon running, cooking classes—the two had even gone to the same college. Then one day, she sat poor Jack down, told him the news, packed up her car, and left. Jack had been devastated. Honestly, Taylor couldn’t blame him. He’d been the perfect husband and faithful to a T despite the long line of women who’d thrown themselves at him over the years. As far as Taylor knew, Jack never so much as batted one curious eyelash their way. And she’d seen the adoring way he always stared at Doris when he thought no one was looking.

Now he felt too afraid of getting hurt to even be casual friends with a woman.

Taylor would definitely have to help Jack get back into the groove. But first, she needed to get her own life on track. Which is why an hour and a half later, she found herself in the heart of San Francisco’s Financial District, standing in the lobby of Wade Enterprises. The sterile but elegant decor—gleaming black marble floors that reflected the recessed lighting from above, dark geometric furniture, and floor-to-ceiling black and white prints of bridges, buildings, and other San Francisco landmarks—made the lobby feel more like a chic hotel than an office building.

Taylor glanced down at her body feeling incredibly underdressed. She’d worn black flats, her favorite jeans, and a little cream-colored blouse. She’d pulled her long brown hair into a sleek knot at the nape of her neck and hadn’t bothered with any makeup. She didn’t know if Bennett was in town or not, but she planned to stop by and leave a note—yes, an apology for her irrational and rude behavior on the plane plus a request for a formal meeting at his earliest convenience.

Bennett’s phone was also inside the envelope. If she ended up working with him (
with
, not for) then the relationship needed to be one-hundred-percent professional. If she didn’t end up working with him, well, after she left her apology note, there was no reason to hang on to the device.

“Your name?” asked the handsome Hispanic security guard in the gray uniform, seated behind a long, black granite counter just in front of the elevator bank.

“Taylor Reed, but I’m just here to drop—”

“One moment.” The man handed her a small, laminated executive visitor’s badge. “Take the elevator on the right, scan the badge over the security pad, and then proceed to the fortieth floor.”

“I think you misunderstood. I just need to drop this off.” Taylor held out a manila envelope.

“Robin requested I send you right up,” he replied.

That’s odd. Unless…

A little rush surged through her body.
Bennett checked his app and knows I’m already here.
Dammit, she really liked him spying on her. It was like their dirty little secret.
God, I must be crazy.

“Are you sure?” Taylor asked. “Because I didn’t tell anyone I was…” The man rattled the badge in front of her. “Thank you.” Taylor snagged it and proceeded to the elevator.

Now she kicked herself for not having worn her grown-up clothes or some lip gloss, but she really had intended to be in and out and then go for a little walk around the city. Later, she would catch lunch with Sarah, who worked at the courthouse as a judge. That fact was still hard for Taylor to believe; Sarah used to be the biggest delinquent of them all in high school.

Taylor scanned the badge over the pad inside the elevator, pressed the button for the fortieth floor, and then rode to the top. She exited into a private lobby where she immediately noticed how the large, well-lit space was warm and inviting, despite the masculine decor—dark wood floors, gray walls, and modernist furniture with red accent pillows in the sitting area. The place felt more like a cool bar or the office of a fashion designer than a corporate office.

She walked past three Arab men in suits and headdresses—
OMG, is that the oil sheik guy I just saw on the cover of Forbes?—
and proceeded to the far end of the room where Robin sat at her desk, talking into her headset. She waved at Taylor and continued speaking. “No, I’m sorry, but Mr. Wade isn’t available. May I take a message, Mr. Grayson?”

Mr. Grayson?
Could it be
the
Mr. Grayson, owner of Grayson Aircraft? If so, Taylor seriously wanted to have a chat with the guy because Bennett’s plane had been one of theirs.

Robin listened for a moment. “He asked not to be disturbed on his mobile either, but I promise to let him know you’ve called.”

She hung up. “Hi, Taylor. Mr. Wade is expecting you—go right in.” She pointed to an ominous set of dark, solid wood, double doors behind her.

“But I just came to drop off this envelope, and I’m sure Bennett is busy so…”

Robin’s large brown eyes almost popped from her head. Was it because Taylor didn’t want to stay?

Robin cleared her throat. “I’m sure
Mr. Wade
would be disappointed not to see you.” She stood and opened the doors to Bennett’s office, gesturing for Taylor to enter.

Welp. I guess an in-person apology will do.
As for the other matter (whether or not she would work with him), that ought to be a fairly quick conversation.

“Thanks.” Taylor passed Robin, who remained in the doorway.

“Can I get you anything? Tea, coffee, water?”

“No, thank you,” Taylor replied.

“Okay. I’ll be right outside if you change your mind.
Mr. Wade’s
helicopter should be touching down shortly.”

Taylor nodded and flashed a polite smile. That Robin lady was acting a little strange. Did she think Taylor had forgotten Bennett’s last name?

Once Taylor was alone in the sprawling office she swiveled on her heel to take it all in, admiring the floor-to-ceiling windows displaying a spectacular view of Coit Tower. She’d worked with plenty of CEOs in her past job so the lavish billionaire lifestyle wasn’t such a shock anymore; however, Bennett’s office definitely piqued her curiosity. Much like the private lobby outside his doors, his office looked more like that of a record producer or art dealer—dark hardwood floors, modern furniture, smoke gray walls with lively colored paintings, and a comfy looking sofa and armchair around a triangular glass coffee table. His desk was covered with models of tiny robotics and faced out toward one of the windows. She guessed if she had an office with a view overlooking the San Francisco cityscape, she would turn her desk that way, too.

But seeing this place—a complete contrast to the man’s cold personality—made her wonder what really made Bennett tick. Certainly, it was something he kept hidden.

Oh, God. I hope he’s not into Fifty Shades kind of stuff.
She couldn’t go there. Not for any man.
Okay, maybe the blindfolds ’n’ stuff, but not the butt plugs. Definitely not the butt plugs. Wait. Why are you even thinking about that? You’re not dating the gu—

“Ms. Reed, so nice to see you again,” said a deep voice.

Taylor turned with a gasp and felt her face instantly flush as if she’d been caught red-handed doing something naughty.
Like thinking about butt plugs? Yikes. Shake it off.

“Is something the matter?” he asked. Today, his expression was somewhat neutral—not irate, not icy, and not overly friendly. If she had to guess, she’d say he was feeling cautious.

“Um. No.” She shook her head. “Why would you plug—I mean,
say
that?”

He stared at her with those irritatingly soul-piercing blue eyes. “You’re blushing. That’s why.”

Taylor was about to speak, but her mind hit a wall. A tall, hot, suited-man wall. He wore a baby blue dress shirt that matched his eyes and a very expensive-looking black suit made from a polished cotton that matched his tie. His pants were tailored to perfection, gently hugging the shape of his muscular thighs, all the way down the tapered legs. The suit was definitely built just for him. Every inch of him. Even the substantial bulge in his—

“Eh-hem,” Bennett cleared his throat and crossed his powerhouse arms over his broad chest, flashing a bit of those shiny black BW cufflinks and his expensive watch.

Taylor’s eyes snapped up to his face.
No. You were not just checking out his gear. No. No. Nooo…

Taylor died quietly on the inside. “Here.” She shoved the large manila envelope toward him, but he didn’t bite.

“What’s inside?” His expression instantly soured, his dark brown brows pulling together.

“Take it.” She urged him to accept the envelope, but he simply walked past her to the sitting area.

“Please sit, Ms. Reed.” Bennett gestured toward the sofa and ran his hand down his black tie as he took a seat in the armchair.

Taylor held his gaze for a moment, noticing how the room now felt saturated with tension. It reminded her of those other moments right before he had said something offensive to throw her off balance.
Well, I’m
not
afraid of him. I won’t let him get to me.

She lifted her chin and strolled over to take a seat. To demonstrate her lack of fear, she sat as close as she could to his armchair, maintaining eye contact.

Several awkward moments passed, and then he smiled. Just a half a smile, but it was beautiful.

“So, Ms. Reed,” he leaned back in the chair, “what brings you to my office?”

“I came to deliver that.” She set the envelope on the glass table and clasped her hands in her lap.

“Tell me why you’re really here,” he said in that oh-so-deep and inherently male voice that made the air vibrate all around her. Or was that her body quivering?

“I just told you; to deliver that. There’s a letter inside, apologizing for the way I behaved.” She looked him straight in the eyes, trying to ignore the thick curtains of lashes that somehow made the blue of his eyes more intense. “I shouldn’t have yelled at you when we last saw each other. It was wrong.” She made a point to apologize only for the plane crash incident. When she’d yelled at him for hijacking her, he totally had it coming.

He slowly leaned forward, and Taylor noted how the man seemed to own and command the space around him. He took up way more room than just what his body occupied.

How does he do that?
Again she felt her body quiver.

He threaded his hands together, and she wondered what they might feel like gripping her bare hips while he thrust his—

“What if I were to tell you, Ms. Reed, that you didn’t say anything wrong that day? What then?” Bennett dipped his head ever so slightly, giving him a wolfishly hungry look.

He thought she was right? She hadn’t expected him to be the sort of man to admit that. Not ever.

He did text and say sorry.
Maybe his head wasn’t so big after all.
Are you sure? Because given the size of that bulge in his pants, his head seems pretty damned big and sexy and I bet it would feel really good sliding—

Stop. What is wrong with you?

She straightened her spine. “I guess I’d say it’s irrelevant. We’d just survived a plane crash. The only thing that mattered was making sure everyone got to the hospital. It wasn’t the time or the place to share my opinions about how I believe people should treat each other.”

He kept his hypnotic gaze pinned to her face. “Apology accepted. Now I’ll ask again; why are you really here?”

“I thought we just covered that.”

“You could’ve mailed the envelope,” he said. “So what do you want?”

“Would you stop?”

He tilted his head a notch. “Stop what?”

“Stop trying to bulldoze this conversation,” she said. “I get it, okay? You’re a hard-ass. You’re a big, powerful man.” But if they were going to get down to business, he needed to back off with the whole intimidation vibe.
’Cause he’s really good at it, and it’s making me hot.

What? No. No, it’s not.

He chuckled, and his dimples deepened into delicious little semicircles.

“Hard-ass? I thought I was an immoral, heartless ‘pig in a suit’ whose only goal in life is to make money and demean the masses in an effort to elevate my sense of self-worth.”

“W-we-well, I know I said something like that but—”

“Which is priceless coming from someone like you,” he said, cutting her off.

“Someone like me?”

“You’ve put yourself on a pedestal so high that no one could ever hope to live up to your soaring standards of perfection.”

“That’s not true. I’m intimately acquainted with my faults and trust me, they’re there.” Not that she had many, if she were to be honest with herself. Her body was a bit too thick around the hips, she wasn’t the best salesperson in the world, and she obviously wasn’t impervious to Bennett’s insane masculinity. But aside from that, she wanted to help people. She wanted to change things.