Coming on Strong. Tawny Weber
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joked that she’d better watch her back. She knew better, though. She’d never mattered enough to him to merit that much attention.
“He won’t deal with me,” she assured Sierra, playing her trump card.
“You don’t know that.” The way Sierra said it, as though she had some naughty little secret, made Belle nervous.
“Yes, I do.” Belle took a deep breath and, with the air of one confessing a mortal sin, dropped her voice to a loud whisper. “I never told you, but I tried to see Mitch. Two years ago. Remember when I had that car wreck?”
Eyes huge with curiosity, Sierra nodded.
“I was shook up and had some weird idea that being hit in a head-on accident on a one-way street was a sign that I should make amends for all my wicked ways.” She met her friend’s snort of laughter with a glare. “I figured ditching Mitch topped my wicked list, so I sucked up my courage and went to apologize.”
“No way,” Sierra breathed. “And you didn’t tell me?”
“There was nothing to tell. He was supposedly out of the country.”
“Supposedly?”
“Well, I went back a couple weeks later and his assistant said he was out with the flu.”
“So?”
“So isn’t it obvious? He was avoiding me.”
“He left the country and got the flu to avoid you?”
Belle rolled her eyes. “No, that was just BS. He was probably there in his office telling his assistant to make something up so he didn’t have to see me.”
Sierra’s expression clearly said “you’ve got to be kidding.”
“Don’t give me that look. It could be true.”
“Only if the roles were reversed. You’re the one afraid of confrontation, Belle. Not Mitch. If he were in the office, I’m sure he’d have taken five minutes to personally tell you to kiss his ass.”
“And you want me to go chasing the guy for favors?” Belle ignored the confrontation issue. It was true, after all. “We both know he doesn’t want anything to do with me.”
Sierra hummed, then slid off the chair and crossed to the leather bag she’d tossed on the credenza. She pulled out a file folder with what looked like a printout of an e-mail clipped to it.
Waving the file at Belle, she arched a brow and asked, “Wanna bet?”
“Spill,” Belle demanded, making a grab for the folder. Sierra whipped it out of reach with a laugh.
“You really need to have more faith in your impact on people.”
“According to you, people are only out for what they can get,” Belle shot back.
“Exactly. So while Mitch might happily punish you when it’s convenient, the tune changes when he needs something.”
“And he needs us?”
“No. He needs you. This gig is right up your alley,” Sierra claimed. Which meant it was totally social. Sierra handled the big corporate and studio events, the types of things that required juggling numbers, working with specific images or ground rules. In other words, the more traditional events that relied heavily on organization. Belle’s specialty was the over-the-top hedonistic fantasies. And since she’d indulged in so many fantasies about Mitch Carter, the idea of having another shot at sharing a few with him sent her pulse racing.
“Spill,” she demanded. She tried to ignore the excitement dancing in her stomach, making her edgy and impatient. This was crazy. Mitch hated her. He had to. But maybe, just maybe, this was her shot at making amends. At fixing the past and helping her father. And maybe, just maybe…at finally getting into his pants.
She’d blown it before, stumbling over that silly marriage idea. But she was older and much more experienced now. This time she’d be smarter. If she and Mitch did find common ground, all she wanted was sex. That, and help for her dad.
She took the file from Sierra with a smile of anticipation. Belle read the e-mail. Then she read it again. The excitement curdled in her stomach.
“A resort grand opening? That’s more your gig than mine,” Belle said, trying to ignore the disappointment that settled over her like an itchy wool blanket.
“That’s what they say they want. But check out the details I found.”
Knowing her friend’s instincts were usually spot-on, Belle opened the file. It just took a glance, a quick flip through the papers and plans for her to see the perfect hook to turn his lush resort into the hottest, most exclusive getaway on the west coast.
Mitch’s background was in development. And he was damned good at it. But he was thinking too traditionally for this resort. It wasn’t a run-of-the-mill hotel and shouldn’t be treated that way. Given the remote beauty of the location, yet its easy access to L.A., it could be the nice luxury vacation place he had outlined. Or it could be the chicest spot for decadence in southern California. Indulgent weekends, clandestine trysts, decadent fantasies. All there, for a price. All guaranteed to be unique, elite and, best of all, private.
Her blood heated, ideas flashing like strobe lights through her mind. Excitement buzzed, but she tried to tamp it down. There was nothing worse than getting all stirred up, only to be left flat. It was like foreplay with no orgasm. Amusing once or twice, but ultimately a rip-off.
“This e-mail isn’t from Mitch himself,” she pointed out. “And his assistant isn’t offering us the position, she’s only checking availability.”
“So? Since when have we waited for an engraved invitation to charm our way into a job?”
Good point. The two women had spent their first year in business clubbing and hitting every social event they could wiggle or charm their way into on the off chance of finding clients. Once at a fashion show someone had mentioned a director’s wife with a penchant for poodles and Motown. The next day Belle contacted the director and suggested he throw his wife a surprise party, with the musical dog theme. Such ball-siness paid off both in contacts and jobs as they’d built Eventfully Yours.
But this was different. Mitch probably hated her. Then again, why would he be willing to work with her if he was holding a grudge? Belle sighed, not sure if her reasoning was sound or pure bullshit.
“We have an opportunity to kick ourselves to the next level with a job this exclusive,” Sierra said quietly as she settled back in her chair. “Better yet, you have a chance here to settle up some past debts, get some of that fabled closure. Are you going to let semantics stop you?”
Was she? Belle glanced at Sierra, noting the assured confidence on her friend’s angular face. Sierra wouldn’t push unless she thought it was really important. She might be a relentless nag when it came to the success of Eventfully Yours. But she was a good friend and would never sacrifice Belle to snag a client. Even one as potentially huge as MC Development.
Belle had spent the last six years regretting her screw-up. She should have faced Mitch herself instead of running like a wuss. Hell, she should never have agreed to marriage in the first place. She’d known better. Sex, as incredible as it might have been, was no reason to go off the deep end. But she’d been afraid to push the issue, then after the altar-ditch, too hurt and upset to face his anger.
Ever since, she’d tried to find a guy to replace him, both in her bed and her fantasies. None had stuck, though. Probably because she’d never actually had Mitch. This might be her chance to get over him, once and for all.
She glanced back at the files, the panoramic photo of the resort and its welcoming lakeside forest. She wanted to see it in person. Even more, she wanted to do Mitch, right there on the edge of that lake. Outdoor sex in the woods, like something out of a fairy tale. The orgasm she was imagining was probably mythical, too. But she didn’t care. She wanted to find out.