Mr. Right Now. Kate Hoffmann
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beneath her bossâs eyes. She had been crying. âDonât worry, the offer wasnât good enough to accept. But the next one might be. And as you all know, this magazine has always operated on aâ¦tight budget. And now that DaddyâI mean, now that my investors have decided to curtail their rather generous funding, the magazine is more vulnerable than ever. We have to tighten our belt, be more efficient andâand do all those other things you people do when we need to save money. Iâm sure you know what they are.â
âLike cutting back on expensive business lunches at the cityâs best restaurants?â Lizbeth murmured. âAnd throwing lavish parties for male models then writing them off against our photo budgets?â
âShhh!â Nina hissed.
âLena, where are you?â Charlotte demanded. Her gaze searched the room, but no one spoke up. The rest of the employees glanced nervously back and forth. âWell, where is my head of research? Lizbeth, I told you to bring her along. Where is Lena?â
Suddenly Nina realized that Charlotte was talking to her. She raised her hand nervously. âIâm here,â she said. âTina, IâI mean, Nina. Nina Forrester.â She groaned inwardly and bit back a curse. Now she couldnât even remember her own name!
âTina, I want you to find out everything you can about this NightRyder company. Itâs owned by someone named Cameron Ryder. Call whoever you call and get me something, anything, on this man. I need to know everything I can about the enemy before I face him again. Oh, and find out if heâs married.â She glanced around the room. âAs for the rest of you, no more spending. Cultivate new vendors who will extend us credit. Sell more ad pages. And thereâll be no more free beverages in the coffee room!â
With that, she swept out of the room, leaving her staff to wonder whether they might be better off with Cameron Ryder at the helm of Attitudes. Nina and Lizbeth hurried out in front of the crowd, anxious to regain the privacy of Ninaâs office. When they closed the door behind them, they both gasped and gaped at each other.
âI suppose we ought to start revising our résumés,â Nina said.
âYou donât actually think Charlotte will sell to this NightRyder guy, do you?â
Nina shook her head. âSheâs not much of a business-woman and the magazine has always struggled. But then, maybe this Ryder isnât much of a businessman.â She reached for her computer keyboard, then looked at the screen. The moment sheâd walked in that morning, sheâd typed up her two adsâthe âcoffee collisionâ ad for Mr. Right and the âAdonisâ ad for Mr. Right Now, still torn between which one to place.
As she stared at the screen, Ninaâs mind again wandered back to her encounter with âCoffee Man.â How many times had she brushed him from her thoughts, trying to convince herself there was probably something seriously wrong with him? Maybe he picked his teeth or burped after dinner. Maybe he hated modern art or detested the theater. He could have all sorts of disgusting flaws. Like all the other men sheâd met, sheâd probably have dropped him sooner or later, so what was the point even wasting brain cells on him?
A soft moan slipped from her lips. But he was incredibly intriguing. She suspected he had a body to match that gorgeous face, hidden beneath his staid attire. And though she usually didnât go for the suit-and-tie type, he wouldnât always be wearing clothes. A delicious shiver skittered up her spine and she couldnât help but smile.
âWell? What have you found?â
Nina blinked, then glanced up at Lizbeth. âWhat? Oh, nothing. Itâll take more than a few seconds.â She shook her head and turned back to the monitor, hoping to hide the warm flush that had crept up her cheeks. âBut Iâll let you know as soon as I do,â she murmured, closing the document that held the two ads.
Lizbeth started toward the door. âGood luck,â she said, the usual light and teasing tone now gone from her voice. âAll of us are counting on you.â
She closed the door behind her, leaving Nina to her own thoughts. Though the business with Cameron Ryder was urgent, she allowed herself just a few more moments to think about her fantasy man. Maybe if she finished up her research for Charlotte early, sheâd go back to the coffee shop after work. Perhaps, heâd be there, hoping that she might return as well.
And this time, she wouldnât be such a dope. Sheâd catch his eye from across the room. And then sheâd smile, a hesitant, but coy smile, with maybe a hint of surprise. Then a little wave, playful but not too aggressive. After all, she didnât want him to think sheâd come looking for him on purpose. No, it was best to play hard to getâbut not too hard to get.
âSo how do I do that?â
She glanced down at what sheâd pulled from her closet that morning. It wasnât exactly conservative, but she thought it was pretty. âMaybe Mr. Right goes for the kind of woman who wears conservative clothes and spends more than a few minutes making herself look pretty in the morning,â she murmured, worrying over a loose thread on her jacket. She tugged on it and a button went flying across the room.
Yeah, she was smooth all right. For all she knew, Mr. Right might have a Ms. Right waiting at home, someone beautiful and sophisticated. He might even be married! Not every man wore a wedding band. Since last night, sheâd spun a whole fantasy around this guy, giving him qualities she wasnât even sure heâd possessed.
âThis is ridiculous,â Nina said. âYour social life is so bad that youâve been reduced to dreaming up a relationship with a complete stranger, turning a few minutes at Jitterbugâs into two kids, a dog and a three-bedroom house in Jersey.â
With a soft oath, she brought up the computer screen that held her two ads. Pounding furiously on the Delete key, she erased her âCoffee Collisionâ ad. It was time to stop dreaming and take control of her life. Mr. Right was a silly fantasy. And Mr. Right Now would have to wait until after this crisis with NightRyder was solved. For the next few days, sheâd have to focus all her time and energy on just one manâthe mysterious and very dangerous Cameron Ryder.
THE MARCH WEATHER had turned brisk again, a cold, damp wind swirling around the city and smelling of a late season snow. Cameron pulled his leather jacket closed as he stepped out of the cab in front of the coffee shop. He stood for a long moment on the sidewalk, trying to decide whether to venture inside. The windows were fogged and the sound of music drifted out every time the door was opened, but he waited.
He wasnât really sure why heâd come. Heâd already decided not to use Nina Forrester for information about Attitudes magazine. Too many complications. Yet, he had still made a simple phone call to the magazine and learned she was a fact checker, a job that probably didnât put her in daily contact with the editor and publisher, Charlotte Danforth, anyway. The information she might be able to provide would be marginally valuable at bestâor thatâs what he chose to tell himself.
âSo why the hell am I here?â Cameron muttered.
Was it curiosity? He couldnât deny that heâd found their little encounter over a cup of coffee surprisingly intriguing. Maybe it was the contradiction, the wide-eyed naif hiding a provocative siren. He reached into his jacket pocket and withdrew the ad sheâd written. If he hadnât taken it from her hand, he never would have put the two together. But then, heâd never been a very astute judge of the female mind. For a guy who didnât have a real date until he was a junior in college, Cameron Ryder had been forced to learn fast, leaving several very pronounced gaps in his studies.
There had been women, a fair number of them since heâd started NightRyder, but never anything serious. He thought back to his days in college, to the fantasies of beautiful, sexy women, blond and leggy, with tanned and trainer-toned bodies. They were every misfitâs