Last Groom Standing. Kimberly Lang
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at all. He raised an eyebrow at her. Damn. Now he knew they were talking about him. Unfortunately, she’d totally lost the thread of the conversation and had no idea what she should be saying next. “Oh, um...”
“I think you’d be perfect for the job. You’ve got experience with nonprofits and working with people trying to better their circumstances...”
Deliberately, she turned her back on Dylan. Right. Job. Foundation. Focus. “That certainly sounds interesting. Maybe we could get together and talk about it sometime—”
“Great. I’m so glad you’re interested. Hang on, I’m going to get Dylan on this call.”
“What? No, Reese—” But she was talking to dead air. Panicked, she grabbed Dylan’s pants off the pile of clothes and threw them at him, even though he was seemingly unconcerned that her life had turned into a bad sitcom. “Get your phone.”
“Why?”
“Just—” Before she could say more, Reese was back on the line, and she heard the ring on that end a second before Dylan’s phone began to scream like a Klaxon in the silence. She coughed loudly and rudely into her phone to cover the noise as Dylan produced the phone and silenced the ringtone. She could still hear it vibrating, though, along with each ring on Reese’s end.
“Marnie, are you okay?”
She moved off the bed and away. Sven’s loft was totally open plan—basically a large studio—and unless she wanted to lock herself in the bathroom, where the echo would be both bad and obvious, the only thing she could do was try for distance. “Something caught in my throat.”
Dylan held his phone in his hand, looking at her with a question on his face, and she tried to mime “let it go to voicemail” while still talking to Reese. Dylan obviously misunderstood, answering it before she could stop him.
“Hi, Reese.”
Oh. My. God. Dylan’s voice sounded caught in a loop—coming through the phone and bouncing off the walls of Sven’s apartment back through her phone. Shooting him a dirty look, she got as far away as possible and plastered her back against the wall. The jolt of cold, rough brick against her back reminded her that she was stark naked. She crossed her arms as best she could over her chest and tried to look nonchalant about it.
“Morning, Dylan. I’ve got Marnie on the line, too.”
Dylan’s eyes met hers, then slid slowly and appreciatively down her body, causing shivers to dance over her skin. “Well, good morning, Marnie.”
She could cheerfully strangle him, but Reese would probably hear the noise and wonder. “Hi, Dylan.”
“Look,” Reese began, “I won’t beat around the bush. You wanted me to help find someone to take my place at the Foundation, and I think Marnie would be perfect. She’s been working with the Refugee Center in Brooklyn for the last few years, so she has plenty of relevant experience. She’s smart and sharp, and I know she’d do an amazing job.”
The pride in Reese’s voice squeezed Marnie’s heart as the realization of what Reese was doing finally fully dawned. Reese had devoted herself to the Brookes Foundation and would not want just anyone taking her place. The fact she wanted Marnie to do it spoke volumes, and it only made Marnie feel worse about sleeping with Dylan.
Dylan cleared his throat. “It’s certainly something to talk about. Marnie, why don’t you send me your résumé—”
“I’ll do that,” she managed to squeeze out through a tight throat.
“Why don’t we just all go to lunch?” Reese asked instead, and Marnie wanted to bang her head against the wall. “We can talk about the job and—”
“Sure,” Dylan interrupted. “I’m just not sure what my schedule is like next week—”
“Which is why I thought we could do it today.”
Horrified, Marnie squeaked, “Today?”
“Today?” Dylan sounded only slightly less horrified.
“Yes, today,” Reese sighed. “I know you, Dylan, and I know your schedule. With the holiday Monday and everything else, it could be ages before there’s a hole. If we meet today, get that part over with, Marnie could start officially interviewing and such as early as next week. You already kind of know her, and you know I wouldn’t recommend her if I didn’t know she would be awesome—”
Marnie tried to interrupt. “Reese, I’ve got—”
“Really? You’re going to fight me over lunch? Jeez, I’ll even buy. I don’t know why you two are being so difficult when this is the perfect solution to everyone’s problems. An hour, you guys, that’s all I ask. Do you really have such pressing plans today that you can’t spare an hour for lunch?”
Marnie couldn’t figure out a way to say no, damn it. Reese knew full well that she didn’t have plans today because Marnie had told her just yesterday that she didn’t. She shot Dylan a pleading look, but he looked resigned to the inevitable. They were both being steamrolled, but it was impossible to fight because Reese did it with only the very best of intentions.
Reese took the silence for acquiescence. “Great. How about we meet at Vincent’s, say eleven o’clock?”
Although she frantically scrambled to find one, she had no reason to say no. “Okay.” Marnie tried to inject a little enthusiasm into her voice for Reese’s sake.
“Fine.” Dylan still sounded downright begrudging and Marnie wanted to throw something at him. She had to remind herself that Reese only had his best interests in mind, as well.
“Great. See you then. Bye!”
Marnie was left naked, leaning against a wall, holding a dead phone, staring down at the man she’d spent the night with—who, in addition to being the ex-fiancé of one of her dearest friends, was also going to interview her for a job in two hours.
This day was off to a very bad start.
And it was way too early to start drinking.
* * *
Dylan couldn’t tell if Marnie was on the verge of tears, hysteria, or murder.
When she closed her eyes and banged her head gently against the wall, muttering something to herself he couldn’t quite hear, he figured those three options were off the table.
Even so, Marnie was a tempting sight, blond hair rioting around flushed cheeks, all that creamy skin and those soft curves deliciously on display against the red brick walls of the apartment like a modern rendition of the Birth of Venus. As she continued to mutter, the possibility of her returning to bed for a proper wake-up seemed to be out of the question, as well, and he sent a stern memo to his body as he reached for his clothing.
Reese had lousy timing, that was for sure.
The movement brought Marnie’s attention back to him—and her lack of clothing, it seemed, as she disappeared into the bathroom and returned with a towel wrapped around her. “Reese will kill me if I cancel the meeting,” she said briskly. “You’re going to have to do it.”
“So Reese can kill me instead?”
“I simply cannot face her today. Not after...” Marnie’s face, already pink, deepened to scarlet. “I just can’t.”
“Just tell her you’re not interested in the job, and we don’t have to have lunch. End of whatever problem you’re having.” He found his shirt, righted the sleeves and shrugged into it. “Not that I understand this problem...”
“Of course you don’t.” Marnie sounded miserable and angry. He’d been able to piece together that Reese had asked her if she’d gone home with someone, and while he’d heard her protestations that she wasn’t “that kind of girl,” this reaction still seemed extreme.
If she’d just calm