The Wrong Man (Love Unexpected) Page 4

  “I thought so. Let’s start at the beginning. What color did you decide on?”

  “Um…I like the reds. This one.” She pulled a card marked red passion.

  He studied her bent head. “You sure you don’t need help?”

  Her head snapped up. “I want to do this myself.” Her voice held a steeliness he hadn’t expected, and he admired her determination.

  “Okay, then you need the right tools.”

  “Are you going to tell me what they are or stare at me all day?” She cocked a brow.

  Had he been staring? He did a mental headshake. “All right, Miss Personality. Come this way.”

  He spent the next few minutes walking her through the process. He suggested which paint to purchase, and based on the description of the walls she planned to paint, told her how much paint to buy. While a store employee mixed the color, he steered her toward the aisle of supplies. They added a drop cloth, painter’s tape, and brushes to the cart. She paid close attention to his advice and did this cute thing where she wrinkled her brow and placed a manicured nail between her teeth, concentrating hard and interrupting with questions every now and again.

  “Remember,” he said, wrapping up, “the key is to be organized and take your time. Keep a damp rag handy so if you mess up, you can wipe off the paint while it’s wet.” Tomas picked up a brush and added it to the cart. “You should get one of these, too. It’s an angle brush for the corners and edges.”

  Talia pursed her lips. “There’s more to painting than I thought.”

  “It’s not hard, but you have to know what you’re doing. Now you have all the right tools.”

  She took stock of the items in the cart and then picked up a roller from one of the shelves. “I’m sure there’s a technique for using this thing, right?”

  “This thing will save you a lot of time.” He snatched it from her hand and she playfully wrinkled her nose at him. “This is what you do. First of all, do not dip the roller in the paint or you’ll get too much paint on one side and it’ll clump on the wall. What you want to do is slowly slide the roller into the paint and use the back of the tray to roll the color along the brush for an even coat. Then, you do this.” In the air, he demonstrated how she should roll the color onto the wall.

  “Okay, let me try.” She took the brush. “Like this?” She did a poor job of mimicking the movements.

  “Make a W and then fill it in.” He scooted behind her, getting all up on her. Completely unnecessary, but he couldn’t seem help himself. He grasped her wrist, and a charge ricocheted through his blood, shaking him to the core. Her skin was so soft, he thought the contrasting roughness of his hand could bruise her delicate flesh.

  Her enticing smell teased his nostrils, a bouquet of rose and jasmine from the fragrance she always wore. But standing so close the floral notes were even stronger, and another scent invaded his senses. He concluded it came from her hair. More subtle, layered under the perfume. Rosemary and…mint? He bent his head for a better whiff when she looked over her shoulder at him.

  “I’m ready.”

  His gut clenched. A perfectly innocent remark, yet powerful arousal lanced through him. She looked up at him through curled lashes, her unconsciously seductive expression wreaking havoc with his libido. If she was ready, he was ready to give it to her.

  He swallowed past his parched throat. “Okay…so…use this motion.” He didn’t recognize the sound of his own voice, it was so raspy.

  If she stepped back she’d encounter the hard granite between his legs. He didn’t know how he managed to concentrate enough to give her proper instructions, but he struggled through.

  “Thank you,” she said when they finished. “You’re not so bad after all.”

  “Wish I could say the same.” She stuck out her tongue and his shaft jumped. He picked up the filters from a shelf where he’d laid them and held the package in front of his crotch. “Next time, come appropriately dressed. This is a hardware store, not a fashion show.”

  “These are old clothes.” She looked down at the outfit.

  He took a good look at her. “I’m not fooled. Those shoes probably cost more than half my wardrobe.”

  “Can’t argue with your comment, since most of your wardrobe consists of T-shirts.”

  “They’re multi-purpose and comfortable,” he informed her.

  “And cheap.”

  “That, too.” He laughed. “One of these days, I’ll let you wear one.” Where’d that come from?

  Her eyes widened, and awareness crackled between them. She dragged the moist tip of her tongue along the outer edge of her full mouth, prompting an image of him sliding between those full lips. He pushed harder, edged closer. Testing her.

  “You’re so petite,” he said, dropping his voice lower. “I bet if you wore one of my T-shirts it would fit like a short dress.”

  She swallowed. “Why would I ever wear one of your T-shirts?” she asked in a husky voice.

  He shrugged. “Who knows, I may let you borrow one, or you might do something to earn the privilege.” His nostrils flared at the thought of her walking around in his clothes. An image of her in his house, in his shirt, with nothing underneath but her warm, sexy body flashed through his brain. He continued to push. “The hem would probably land right here.”

  He jabbed the air beside her thigh. He didn’t touch her, but she jumped back as though electrocuted, and he heard her breath quicken. The sexual tension between them escalated, and they stared each other down. He wanted nothing more than to put her in his car and discover other, more intimate ways to make her breath quicken.

  “Excuse me!”

  A brusque female voice shattered the tension-filled moment. A harried woman with a baby in a shopping cart and a toddler beside her glared at them. By the pinched expression on her face, Tomas suspected she’d been standing there for a while, ignored in their absorption of each other. They stepped aside so she could pass down the aisle.

  Talia fingered the gold loop in her ear. “Thank you for your help.” Her overly bright smile signaled the moment had passed and couldn’t be recaptured.

  “Anytime. I’ll even paint if you want. Free of charge.” For some reason he couldn’t leave well enough. She was about to slip away, and he almost offered to paint her entire house and all the houses in her neighborhood. Because like any red-blooded man about to lose what he desired, all he knew to do was give chase.

  “I’ll keep that mind. Thanks again.”

  She eased past him, and he kept her in his sight until she vanished around the corner. He stroked his jaw and walked slowly toward the cash registers at the front of the store.

  Talia Jackson was getting under his skin, and he definitely wanted to get to know her better. Now he had to figure out how to make that happen.

  Chapter Six

  Chin in hand, Talia tried once again to focus on the contracts on her desk. Her Monday morning had started badly. The legal department had sent their recommendations for changes, but she had no better understanding of what the pages in front of her said than she did an hour ago.

  Under normal circumstances she focused easily on her job, but today she found it impossible. All morning her mind had wandered. She dreaded seeing Carter in the halls because of the confrontation on Saturday—the drawback of working with someone she used to be married to. With his office a floor below, she hadn’t seen him so far, but she didn’t know how much longer that would last.

  Then the other issue. Tomas. She couldn’t get him off her mind. They’d always given each other wide berth, not getting too close. He’d never actually been mean to her, but they had a strange rapport going which included insults, verbal jabs, and then carrying on like it was no big deal. Their relationship had shifted this weekend—at least it seemed that way to her—and she couldn’t stop thinking about him. Every time she did, her stomach dropped and left her in a mildly breathless state—not unlike the sensation of a three-hundred-foot plunge on a rollercoaster caused.


  Someone rapped at her office door. “Come in.”

  Lillian, her assistant, walked in with several sheets of paper in her hand and a hesitancy in her step. The brunette had been Talia’s assistant for the past few years and moved up to the executive offices when Talia did, too. They worked well together. Lillian understood Talia’s temperament and didn’t take her occasional snapping and ranting personally. She kept Talia organized and in return, Talia gave her time off whenever she needed it, usually because of one thing or another concerning her children. Parent-teacher conferences and childhood illnesses kept her busy, and as a single mother Lillian didn’t have much help. Talia sympathized and did what she could to help her balance work and home.

  Talia’s gaze followed her assistant until she came to a standstill in front of the desk.

  New furniture had been one of the perks of the promotion. As the senior vice president of creative services, she could have chosen any of the more modern designs of glass and chrome like her male counterparts, but she’d settled on a warm cherry wood desk with clean lines and matching cabinets with frosted glass doors.

  “A few of us put something together, and we wanted you to take a look,” Lillian said.

  “What is it?”

  Lillian took a deep breath. “You said if I prepared a plan for a company daycare, you’d review it.”

  Talia had made the off-hand remark in answer to Lillian’s request that perhaps she could lobby the owner for an on-site daycare sponsored by the company. She hadn’t expected Lillian to actually put together a proposal. One of the negatives of being the only woman on the executive team meant the female staff made requests of her because they assumed she understood their plight.

  She held out her hand. “Let me see.”

  Lillian handed her the sheets of paper stapled together and waited with hands clasped in front of her. The proposal contained neatly typed paragraphs and a budget illustrated with a table and pie chart.

  “Where did you get these numbers?” Talia asked.

  “We found the averages online.”

  She glanced up from the sheet. “Jay’s not going to accept averages,” she said before returning her eyes to the document. She circled the numbers and wrote “be specific” to the side. She flipped to the next page and perused the contents. Overall, the proposal was a decent plan to get the point across but needed more detail. She wrote notes and suggestions in the margin and crossed out a few sentences before handing the pages back to Lillian.

  “Add in the info I requested and delete the mushy stuff I crossed out. Jay is logical and he only cares about how much this is going to cost and whether or not the cost is worth the investment.” Lillian nodded her understanding and Talia decided to go all in. What the hell. “Make the changes and I’ll take the proposal to him and see if I can convince him to set up the daycare.”

  Lillian squealed. “Yes! Thank you, Talia.”

  “I’m presenting it, Lillian. There are no guarantees.”

  “I know, I know, but thanks. It’s great having a woman on the team, you know? Someone who looks out for our interests. And I know you don’t have kids or anything and you’re a busy executive, but you understand how difficult it is for those of us who do have children. Thank you so much.”

  Her enthusiastic response made Talia feel guilty she hadn’t taken the project seriously in the first place. She saw how the single mothers struggled, and even the married ones tended to be the primary caregivers and had a hard time balancing work and their kids. How many of them had been overlooked for promotions and special projects because of assumptions they didn’t have the same work ethic as the men or couldn’t accommodate the late night work schedules and the trips out of town?

  Lillian danced toward the door, and speak of the devil, Jay came in as she was leaving.

  “Hi, Mr. Santorini,” Lillian sang, grinning from ear to ear as she closed the door behind her.

  “What’s going on with her?”

  “She’s excited about a project she’s working on.” Talia stood. “Aren’t you supposed to be in Italy?”

  Jay Santorini wore a white pullover shirt and dark pants. Not part of the typical office dress code, so she knew he’d only dropped in for a short visit. His father had started the company and turned over control to Jay when he retired. Despite rumors of being a playboy and a slacker, the company flourished under Jay’s leadership.

  “Change of plans,” he answered. Every year he took whichever woman he considered his latest girlfriend on vacation to his family’s villa on Lake Maggiore in Turin, Italy, for two weeks including Memorial Day weekend. “But don’t worry, I won’t be in your hair all week, either.” He waved his hand, indicating she should reclaim her seat and after she did, he settled into the guest chair across from her. “What’s the latest with JBC?”

  The acronym JBC stood for Johnson Brewing Company out of Seattle, Omega’s most recent and well-known client. Omega held the position of largest ad agency in the Southeast, but under normal circumstances they couldn’t compete against the national advertising firms out of New York and Los Angeles. Winning JBC’s business was a major accomplishment.

  Johnson Brewing Company was African-American-owned and one of the largest breweries in the country. For years they’d worked with the same ad agency, but after a loss in market share three years in a row, the family had decided to try other companies and implement a new marketing strategy.

  Omega beat out five other firms to win the contract to work with them. Talia supervised the entire creative department and her responsibilities included making sure all the ad campaigns fit within client guidelines. She knew Jay trusted her, but because of the massive rebranding of JBC, he paid closer attention to the goings on than he normally did.

  “We’re making headway,” Talia said. “Cyrus, the oldest Johnson son and the head of the company, is due in town on business in a couple of weeks and wants to come by the office to meet the team.”

  “Does he like what we’ve presented so far?” Jay asked.

  “So far so good.”

  “All right. Keep me informed.” He rose from the chair and walked back to the door but stopped halfway there. “Everything okay with you?” he asked.

  She glanced up in surprise. Generally speaking, Jay didn’t get personal, but she had no doubt his question referred to Carter bringing Paula to the company picnic, a topic she didn’t want to discuss with her boss. “I’m fine.”

  “You don’t need time off? Because if you do, I’d understand.”

  “We’re in the middle of an important campaign, Jay. Why would I take time off?” She didn’t take time off. Even more so now because she couldn’t afford the luxury of sitting idle with her own thoughts. Then she’d have to admit how empty her life was.

  He shrugged, looking at the far wall. “I guess you’re stronger than me. When my wife and I divorced nine years ago, I took a week off. I didn’t come to work and didn’t want to see anyone. Lucky for me, we didn’t work together.” His gaze met hers again. “Something to think about.”

  Talia kept her features neutral. “Thank you.”

  He opened his mouth, apparently to add an additional comment, but changed his mind and walked out.

  When the door shut, Talia’s shoulders drooped and she buried her face in her hands. With everyone treating her like a fragile piece of glass, she was starting to feel fragile. Work provided a refuge. It always had. And since she and Carter split, it had become even more important.

  The clock on her desk read almost lunch time. Maybe getting out for a bit would do her some good. She grabbed her purse and took the elevator to street level, but on the way down she changed her mind about eating in the building’s café.

  She went through the revolving door and right away experienced a burst of energy like she always did when she walked around downtown Atlanta. Workers traipsed along the busy sidewalk on their way to lunch with co-workers or ran errands during the short window of time before they had to r
eturn to work. Tourists snapped photos or fumbled with maps as they took in the sights.

  She kept walking, not sure where she was headed until she came to an intersection and realized she was on her way to a restaurant she hadn’t been to in a long time. As she waited for the light to change with a half dozen or so other people, she heard a voice behind her.

  “I couldn’t be so lucky again.”

  Warm ripples raced down her spine.

  Tomas stood behind her. Seeing his smiling face buoyed her spirits, but she didn’t bother to analyze the meaning of such a shift in attitude and fought the goofy grin that threatened to spread across her face.

  The sun glinted off the natural blonde highlights in his hair, and he ran his fingers through it, sending the silky strands rippling through his fingers as he pushed them back from his forehead, giving her a good look at his handsome face. A truly beautiful man—classically handsome with high cheekbones, a square jaw, and a prominent nose just the right size for his face. He seemed oblivious to the looks that came his way as they stood there, but she saw them. She couldn’t blame the women for staring and doing double takes. He exemplified the type of rugged perfection most women fantasized about, and she found it harder and harder to control this newfound attraction that burdened her each time they met.

  She’d been so caught up in his appearance she hadn’t noticed he wasn’t alone. Two men stood alongside him wearing similar clothing—jeans, T-shirts, and dusty work boots.

  Finally getting her bearings, Talia found the wherewithal to talk. “What are you doing in my neck of the woods?” she asked. “Shouldn’t you be off somewhere pounding nails and cutting wood?”

  “We had business at the zoning office and thought we’d grab a bite to eat while down here,” Tomas replied. “Any suggestions?”

  The light changed and people started moving, steering around them since they blocked the crosswalk.

  “There’s plenty, but it depends on what you want. If you’d like sandwiches, there’s a great place in the building over there.” She pointed across the street. “Their Reuben sandwiches are to die for. They’re stuffed full of meat and a special sauce created by the owner. There’s also a pretty good Brazilian place a couple of blocks up on the right.”