Fool for Love: Fooling Around\Nobody's Fool\Fools Rush In (12 page)

E
RIC BIT DOWN
on the inside of his cheek and tasted the tang of badly chosen words as he waited for a new pot of coffee to dispense. Apparently Kate Randall hadn't lost her figure, or her ability to catch him off guard, although her tongue was sharper than he remembered. Woods had already scampered off to the meeting, afraid of further offending the new boss. He, on the other hand, needed strong black coffee to get through the next couple of hours of bureaucratic bull.

He pinched the bridge of his nose between thumb and forefinger, wishing he were anywhere but here, fighting a hangover and the inexplicable image of Kate's face superimposed over the face of the woman he'd taken home last night. As much as he enjoyed sales, he hated the rah-rah team-spirit propaganda that most companies spouted. He had carved out a nice corner of independence at Handley Toys—he worked their major and national accounts, bringing huge deals to fruition, and his superiors left him the
hell alone. The last thing he needed was a green boss looking over his shoulder.

He grimaced. A green boss with green eyes that could make a man forget to breathe.

He curled his hand around a Handley coffee mug. Damn it, it wasn't as if he hadn't thought about crossing paths—and maybe sharing a bed—with Kate Randall again. But
working
for her? What had John Handley been thinking when he'd promoted her to VP? She didn't have a clue about what made sales people tick.

She certainly didn't have a clue about what made
him
tick.

Eric frowned as he filled his coffee cup. John had offered him the VP position, but he'd turned it down because he'd never thought of himself as the home-office type. But the news that he would be working for Kate Randall had been enough to sever the loyalty he felt toward John and the company. Last night he'd called his former boss who now worked for Mixxo and told him he'd changed his mind about their offer. Two weeks from now, on April 5, he would have a new job.

He drank from the cup and swore under his breath as the searing liquid scalded his tongue. Then he made his way to the boardroom where the meeting was already in progress. He entered, not bothering to try to be quiet as he closed the door and leaned against the wall opposite from where Kate sat, addressing the seated group of about two dozen. Everyone glanced in his direction and he was filled with
the satisfaction of knowing he was regarded as the leader of the pack.

“—pleasure to be working with all of you,” Kate was saying. “My background with the company is product-and brand-management, so I have a good grasp of sales as seen from inside the business, but I'm committed to learning everything about external sales as quickly as possible.” Then she stopped and leveled her green gaze on him. “Eric, there's an empty chair,” she said, pointing.

He lifted his coffee mug. “I'd rather stand, thanks. This isn't going to last too long, is it?”

Her mouth tightened and the color rose becomingly in her cheeks—reason enough to keep goading her, in his estimation. In fact, if he kept pushing, maybe she'd fire him and then he wouldn't feel so guilty when he told John Handley he was leaving the company.

“That depends,” she said evenly, “on how quickly we get through introductions and objectives for the quarter.”

“Objectives?” he asked, then glanced at his watch. “My objective is to get out of here and back to the account I was pulled away from to attend this meeting.”

The silence in the room stretched taut and for a split second, he felt bad about wielding his informal power. Until a taunting memory rose in his mind. A conversation that
he
had overheard the morning after their one-night stand.

Kate,
a young woman had said in a panicky voice,
your reputation will be ruined if anyone knows you're involved with Eric McDaniels.

Involved?
Kate had responded in a scathing tone.
I slept with him, but trust me—I have absolutely no intention of becoming involved with the likes of Eric McDaniels.

Though exact details about that moment may have escaped his memory, he could still hear the stinging derision in her voice—as if she were referring to an invertebrate. And suddenly, he didn't feel bad at all about usurping her bogus authority.

The silence loomed larger in the room. His ears began to buzz and it seemed as if everyone else in the room fell away, leaving a channel of electricity running from him to Kate. He realized with a sinking stomach that the chemistry between them remained intact. Her gaze was full of defiance, and he suspected his expression was no different.

Finally, she wet her lips. “I might be new to this position, Eric, but I'm aware that your accounts are the single largest contributor to the company's revenue.”

His backbone eased a fraction.

“So,” she continued, lifting her hands, “educate me. Tell me about this account and what you've done to get to this point.” Her smile was congenial, but didn't reach her cool eyes. “I'm sure we can all learn something from the company's top salesman.”

Was it his imagination, or had she added a mocking inflection on those last words?

Eric shrugged and maintained his position on the wall. “The client is Lexan Electronics in Pensacola,
Florida. They have two hundred and forty locations in thirty-five states, and the product is our line of handheld electronic games.”

“What size order are we talking about?”

He gave her a dry smile. “The size order that would mean adding an extra shift at our Huntsville factory.”

Kate nodded curtly. “Whose line of games do they currently carry?” she asked, making notes on a clean pad of paper. That pad of paper irritated him beyond reason, probably because it seemed to symbolize Kate's squeaky-clean desk presence. He contrasted it to his home office, where his desk was buried in spreadsheets, product-fact sheets, and expense reports.

“Travister Games,” he said.

“And where are you in the process of closing the deal?”

Stalled,
although he wasn't about to admit that. “I was supposed to follow up with the entertainment buyer today,” he fibbed. “But now it looks like it'll be next week before I can get back there.” Actually, the buyer was hedging, and he was hoping to wrangle an appointment on the tail end of his trip through Georgia and northern Florida.

“Are you trying to convince Lexan to expand or to replace their current line?”

He hated answering questions. “Replace.”

She made a rueful noise in her throat and scribbled another note. Eric pushed away from the wall and managed a fake little laugh. “You don't approve of my sales tactics?”

Kate looked up, her winged eyebrows raised. “It's not for me to approve or disapprove.”

“But?”

She stopped writing and shrugged. “But if the customer isn't inclined to replace their entire line, why not start small and let them expand with our products?”

His blood pressure spiked, and he enunciated slowly. “Because…I…don't…do…things…
small.
”

Her mouth parted and her eyes narrowed ever so slightly. A sliver of satisfaction drilled through him because he knew she was remembering something else about him that wasn't so small.

She averted her gaze, then seemed to collect herself and looked back. “I assume you're shooting to close the deal by next Wednesday, the last day of March?”

“Sales people live and die by the quarter's end,” he said. “But then you probably know that, being VP of sales and all.”

Her jaw hardened. “I do know that. But this deal is big enough to swing profits from one quarter to the next. Are you sure you can make things happen next week?”

“Plenty of time,” he said with confidence to spare.

“Just keep me posted, okay?”

She might as well have swatted him on the behind. He conceded that he could take a hit from anyone other than Kate, but after the way she'd dismissed him years ago, he had the perverse desire to take her down a notch.

“Why don't you come with me?”

She looked up, her expression wary. “What do you mean?”

“Go on the road with me for a few days,” he challenged. “I can't think of a better way to learn the external sales side of the business.”

She shifted in her chair under the gaze of everyone in the room. “I don't—”

“Maybe you can even help me close the Lexan deal,” then he smiled and added, “boss.”

Kate wet her lips, glancing all around the room. When the silence became uncomfortable, she gave a little laugh and shrugged. “Sure—in fact, I think it's a great idea.”

Everyone in the room exhaled and nodded their approval, some chuckling and making remarks about what a good sport she was. Eric wanted to chuckle himself because the glint in her eyes when she looked up at him had nothing to do with sportsmanship and everything to do with retaliation. He sipped his coffee and half listened as she returned to her agenda, discussing individual territories and objectives for the quarter to begin April 1. Her plans didn't matter to him because he'd be gone shortly. Instead, he observed the precise way she moved her head and her hands, wondering from where she had acquired such reserve, such detachment, and remembering it was her aloofness that had first attracted him.

They'd been in Vegas at a trade show—he was a top salesman striking deals with clients, and she was one of the newbies who'd come to help work the company booth. Kate had confounded him from the
beginning because she wasn't the type of woman he normally was attracted to. Other than her spectacular coloring, there was nothing flamboyant about Kate—her manner and her clothing were understated, and she'd seemed more irritated than flattered when he'd flirted with her.

Never one to back down from a challenge, Eric had pursued her relentlessly over the next few days of the trade show, and because he'd had to work to draw her out, he'd found out more about her than almost any woman he'd ever…bedded. Strange, the details he remembered after all this time—that she was an only child and her parents lived in Florida, that she disliked olives and traveling by plane, and that she had the most beautiful shoulders he'd ever seen. He had worn down her defenses, but by the time they had wound up in bed, he was the one seduced by the dichotomy of her cool air and her fiery beauty. Her disregard of him the next morning had injured his pride more than he or anyone else would have thought possible. He was, after all, happy-go-lucky Eric, salesman extraordinaire, ladies' man, practical joker.

He was suddenly distracted by the idea of having Kate Randall in close proximity for an extended period of time, and started thinking about all the wonderful ways in which he could plague her before he left the company. A smile tugged at his mouth. This occasion called for the practical joke of all practical jokes. A public humiliation, a personal vindication.

Kate looked up and caught him staring at her. Lasers flashed from her green eyes, and then she
checked her watch and addressed the room. “I think it's time for a break. Let's meet back in twenty minutes.”

Eric maintained his lean on the wall and waited until all the other sales reps had filed past him before pushing off to approach Kate. She walked up and glanced toward the hall to make sure they were alone, then crossed her arms. “What was that all about?”

He lifted his shoulders in an innocent shrug. “What?”

Her mouth pursed into a cinnamon-colored bow. “You know exactly what—that bit about me going on the road with you.”

He assumed an indignant stance. “I try to help ease your transition into your new position, and you think I'm up to something?”

“Yes.”

He grinned. “Well, I'm not.”

She glanced around again to ensure they were alone. “Good, because I wouldn't want you to confuse anything in the past with something that might happen again.”

His gut clenched. “Past?” he asked lightly. “What past?”

She was a tall woman, but still a head shorter than he, so her chin was lifted. Her eyes glittered like jewels and the barest hint of a smile skimmed her mouth. “I'm glad we understand each other. I expect you to treat me like anyone else in this position. And while I appreciate the opportunity to learn more
about external sales, I want to you know, Eric, that I'm nobody's fool.”

Eric maintained a neutral expression until she walked out of the room, leaving behind a disturbance of spice-scented air. He closed his eyes briefly against the stir of desire in his belly, then watched her stride away from him. Nobody's fool?

A smile curved his mouth and he murmured, “We'll see about that.”

“I
FEEL LIKE
a fool,” Kate said into the phone. “Lesley, I don't know why I let that man make me so flustered. Do you think I made a mistake by agreeing to go with him?”

Lesley hummed. “Only if you wind up in bed with him again.”

Kate guffawed and, suddenly restless, got up from her couch and walked across the red looped rug in her living room, digging her toes into the thick yarn. “Well,
that's
not going to happen.”

“Then I don't see the problem. You said the only part of your job that makes you uncomfortable is not knowing the outside sales business—here's your chance to learn from the best. Eric McDaniels may be a ladies' man and a practical joker, but he could sell condoms to a nun.”

Kate laughed, then sobered. “Les, you ought to see the way the other reps look up to him—like he's some kind of god.” Suddenly the responsibility that John Handley had assigned to her seemed overwhelming. If sales dropped, every department in the
company would suffer. “For me to be an effective leader, it's important that I have Eric as an ally.”

“Then you'd better go,” Lesley said. “Look, whatever you want to say about Eric, he's not an idiot—he's not going to jeopardize his career by making a pass at his boss.”

Kate's shoulders fell in relief…and something else that felt vaguely like disappointment. “You're right. I'm overreacting. Sorry to be such a downer. How was dinner?”

“We missed you.”

Kate dragged a pedicured toe across the rug. “Was Neil there?”

“Yup.”

“I've been thinking…”

“I'm listening.”

“Maybe when I get back, I'll join the three of you for dinner some night.”

“Good,” Lesley said lightly, as if she were afraid if she sounded too enthusiastic, Kate might renege. “When do you leave on the sales trip?”

“Wednesday.”

“And when will you return?”

“Next Wednesday, the thirty-first.”

“Maybe we can get together the weekend after you return. I'm taking a couple of days off to go camping with the boys, so I won't see you before you leave. Will you be able to stay in touch?”

“I'm taking my laptop, so I'll be checking my e-mail. And I'll have my cell phone, although I don't know what kind of service coverage we'll have for some of the trip.”

“Check in and let me know how things are going. I'll look in on your place every couple of days.”

“Thanks, Les. You're such a good friend.”

“Yes, I am. Try to enjoy yourself, okay?”

“I will,” Kate said, although both of them knew the improbability of that happening. “Talk to you soon.” Kate disconnected the call and walked to the kitchen to grab a bottle of water from the refrigerator—dinner had been shrimp-fried rice at her desk, and the soy sauce had left her with a thirst. She carried the water to her home office and winced at the stack of reading material she'd brought home. None of it seemed appealing. Instead she walked over to a cabinet and opened the doors to reveal her private indulgence—her collection of Bernadette dolls, with all the accessories she'd been able to gather for the 60s pint-sized fashionista.

Less popular and more petite than her counterpart Barbie, Bernadette had enjoyed only a short run on the toy shelf and had not evolved into bendable limbs and styleable hair. She remained frozen in her original state of rigid arms and legs, with a short auburn-colored bouffant and painted-on freckles across her tiny nose. Kate had seen her first Bernadette doll at a flea market when she was ten, and had been mesmerized by the similarity between the doll's coloring and her own. She had emptied her change purse to buy that first doll, dressed in dingy yellow clam-diggers and a blue-and-white striped sweater. The shoes that had gone with the outfit (white criss-cross sandals, she later discovered) were long gone, but astonishingly, a tiny mesh bag full of even tinier sand dollars was intact, its handle looped around the doll's
arm. Bernadette had launched Kate's imagination. The insight she'd had into how attached children could become to toys had benefited her immensely in her job with Handley.

The glass display case held over thirty of the red-haired Bernadette dolls in varying stages of condition, in a half-dozen different outfits. Bernadette's closet hadn't been as deep as Barbie's. Kate smiled—she always thought of Bernadette as the poor relative, the late bloomer, the loner. Instead of a sports car, Bernadette had a bicycle, instead of friends, Bernadette had a bag of books, instead of a boyfriend, Bernadette had a little plastic cat.

“Meow.”

Kate looked down and smiled at her Siamese cat Lenka who sat on her gray haunches, politely waiting for attention. “Meow yourself,” Kate said, then closed the cabinet door and picked up the cat, stroking the spot behind her shoulder that she seemed to like best. Kate's mind drifted back to the morning's encounter with Eric and she replayed the scenes, reliving the mix of dread and thrill at seeing him again and sparring, this time on more equal footing. It was impossible to look at him and not remember the night they'd spent together in Vegas, and worse, she had known he was reliving those memories too. But to him, their one-night stand had been a conquest. To her…

She bent and released Lenka onto the smooth wood floor. To her, their lovemaking had been a sexual awakening—her first inkling of the connection a man and a woman could experience. In the wee hours of the morning, wrapped in Eric's strong arms, lis
tening to his deep breathing, it had been easy to fool herself into thinking she'd fallen in love with him, and that he might feel the same way about her. Surely he had felt it—that strange welling in the chest, a mixture of fear and excitement, the intense ache when their bodies joined, the feeling of languid isolation from the outside world.

But as she had lain there, her limbs entwined with his, panic had pooled in her stomach, then risen in her chest to crowd out all other emotion. One person's earth-shattering experience was another person's roll in the hay. She'd seen her mother turn a blind eye to her father's stepping out off and on during their marriage, had seen her mother's bubbly personality shrink a little more each time her father found a new “friend.” Hadn't she vowed not to become involved with a ladies' man? Hadn't she felt a pang of pity for the women who flitted around Eric McDaniels like birds waiting for a crumb of his attention? Instead she had become one of the flock, and within a few days' time, Eric wouldn't remember her name.

She had thought back over their conversations on the trade-show floor and over cups of bad concession coffee and realized that he'd played her for a fool. He hadn't been interested in getting to know her. It had all been foreplay for him, a means to an end. A
sale.
Like a pliable customer, she had bought his act—his flashing eyes and charming tongue and raucous sense of humor.

Kate remembered being overwhelmed with remorse, and had wondered if her behavior would affect the one thing in her life she felt confident
about—her job. She had slipped from the bed inch by inch so as not to awaken Eric, and fled his room. The next morning at breakfast, Lesley had grilled her, but she had denied having any feelings for him, had dismissed the encounter as meaningless. And she had studiously avoided Eric the remainder of the trade show. As she recalled, he hadn't seemed to mind, no doubt grateful to be spared the awkwardness of explaining that he wasn't looking for a girlfriend.

To her credit, she thought she'd done a good job of pretending the one-night stand hadn't affected her. She had returned to Birmingham, immersed herself in work, and found the distraction a balm to her psyche. In truth, it was during that time that she'd developed a habit for working late, taking projects no one else wanted, haunting other departments on weekends. How ironic that overcompensating in defense of her encounter with Eric had ultimately fixed her directly in his path again.

She walked over to her desk and picked up one of the books she'd bought on the way home:
How to Make an Effective Sales Call.
The only way she was going to be able to maintain the upper hand on Eric was if she knew at least half as much as he did.

Their road trip loomed before her, rife with potential predicaments. Lesley was right—Eric wouldn't jeopardize his job by making an advance towards his boss. Besides, for all she knew, he could be happily cohabitating with someone, or even be engaged. No, she wasn't nearly as worried about any ulterior motives that Eric might have as she was about her own vulnerability where he was concerned.

Because, she conceded, hugging the book to her chest and looking around her painfully neat office in her painfully neat apartment—she was, heaven help her,
lonely.
Nail-gnawingly, teary-eyed, tissue-drenchingly, chest-achingly lonely. She leaned her head back and sighed at the ceiling. She didn't often stop moving long enough to acknowledge that ghost, but it lurked behind every late night at the office, every weeknight TV dinner, every Saturday-morning run in the park. She was ready for someone to come into her life, ready for love.

Kate bit her lip. She should've taken Lesley up on the invitation to dinner with Neil Powers—even
pretending
that she had someone in her life over the next few days would be a welcome distraction for her vulnerable heart.

 

“T
HIS GAG
has to be good,” Eric said to his pal Winston, then took a swig from a bottle of beer. “I mean really elaborate.”

“Something that will have people talking about you long after you're gone?” Winston asked, mopping his forehead with a handkerchief.

Eric grinned. “Yeah. And something that will bring Kate Randall down from her high horse.”

“What did this woman ever do to you?”

Eric tipped his bottle for a drink and considered his buddy's question. “Not enough.”

Winston's eyebrows climbed over his glasses. “You two were involved?”

“Not exactly.”

“Ah. Well…is she involved with someone now?”

Eric laughed. “The woman is married to her job. There are rumors that she might be a lesbian.”

“Is she?”

“No.” He frowned. “I don't think so.” Her response to his lovemaking all those years ago came back in a rush. A sweat broke on his upper lip, and he shook his head. “No, definitely not.” And he'd die before he'd admit it aloud, but he'd avoided the company holiday parties and summer picnics because he couldn't stand the thought of seeing fiery Kate with a mannequin boyfriend…or husband. Until today he'd been able to fantasize that she'd harbored a small amount of regret for writing him off all those years ago. She'd been the first woman to make him want…more.

“Is she a looker?”

Eric nodded, then caught himself and shrugged. “If you like the ice-princess type.” A facade, because he knew the heat that simmered just beneath the surface.

“How about setting up a bucket of paint to fall on her?”

Eric shook his head. “I did that a couple of years ago to a sales guy in another division.”

“Mice in her briefcase?”

“Did that to lady in production.”

“Nail her office furniture to the ceiling?”

“Guy in customer service.”

“Set her up for a radio phone scam?”

“Stockbroker buddy of mine.” Eric lifted his index finger. “And
that
was funny, but his wife still won't talk to me.” He sighed. “Besides, this has to be something more…cerebral.”

“Well,” Winston said, scratching his neck, “if she doesn't have a boyfriend, how about sending her an anonymous love note over e-mail?”

Eric worked his mouth back and forth and nodded. “That's good, but it needs something…” He snapped his fingers. “A secret admirer!”

“Yeah, string her along until—”

“April Fool's Day!” Eric crowed. “I'll be on my way out the door and no one will be able to touch me!” Then he frowned. “But how can we let everyone else in on the joke?”

Winston leaned forward. “We keep a log of the notes and her replies, and then on April Fool's Day, we send the log to everyone at Handley!”

Eric's conscience stirred. “I don't know about that.”

“Okay, just the sales team then.”

Eric hesitated, and his own hesitation irritated him.

“I'll make sure the notes are untraceable,” Winston cajoled, warming up to the idea. “If she's as uptight as you say she is, she probably won't respond anyway. But if she does respond and says something juicy—man, oh, man, you'll be a legend.” Eric's friend laughed, then wiped his forehead again.

Eric pulled on his bottle of beer, mulling the idea, trying to control that swell of anticipation that accompanied the planning of a good joke. “It's a great idea, and the timing
would
be perfect.” He nodded. “I could give you our itinerary so you can send the notes while we're on the road.”

“That's good—she'll never even suspect you.”

Eric worked his mouth back and forth again, trying to decipher the dull niggling in his chest. “Still…”

Winston snorted. “You'd do it if she were a man, wouldn't you?”

“Hell, yes.”

“Then there's your answer.”

Eric looked at his buddy and nodded. Kate had told him herself that she expected him to treat her the way he'd treat anyone else in her position. He grinned. “Okay, let's see how the ice princess responds to having a secret admirer.”

He wasn't any more interested in Kate's reaction to a secret love interest than he would be if she were anybody else.

Really.