Her Favorite Rival (13 page)

Be fair, he did try to fan a little credit your way. It’s not his fault they didn’t listen.

Admittedly, she’d been surprised to hear him mention her name when she’d expected him to be basking in his moment of glory. It hadn’t changed anything, but he’d made the effort.

Only because he saw me standing right there.

Maybe. But she couldn’t help remembering what he’d said that morning.

What was I supposed to do, Audrey? Tell him to wait for the report he’d commissioned because I wasn’t sure if my coauthor would approve of him reading it without her being around?

He’d suggested she’d have done the same thing if she was in his shoes, and she’d denied the charge at the time. Now, she forced herself to consider the situation from his perspective.

If she’d run into Whitman by chance and they’d talked about the report and he’d asked for a copy, what would she have done?

Saying no would have been out of the question, but she’d like to think that she would have found a way to track Zach down and ensure that the two of them delivered the report together. That would have been the fair, reasonable thing to do. But there was no guarantee she would have been able to pull that off.

She slipped the card from the side pocket of her purse and reread Zach’s words. Maybe she should let him buy her pizza and hear him out.

Her email chimed and she reached for her mouse like a laboratory rat at the feeder bar, unable to ignore the electronic cue.

It was from Whitman’s assistant, the subject titled “Competitor Analysis Presentation.” Narrowing her eyes, Audrey clicked to bring up the email.

Whitman had canceled their presentation. As she’d predicted he would.

She stared at the single line of black type, thinking about all the hours she’d put into that report.

For nothing.

She stood and got a good grip on the box at the base of the arrangement. A spike of greenery tried to take out her eye, but she successfully navigated her way past her interested workmates and into the bowels of the building without suffering bodily harm. Carpet gave way to scarred linoleum as she approached the warehouse offices. Two middle-aged women looked up from their paperwork when she paused in the doorway of the dispatch department.

Jan and Jean had worked for Makers for years. Both were leathery from too much sun and too many cigarettes, with chests like prows of ships. Between them they’d saved Audrey’s backside more than once and she figured that if anyone should benefit from Zach’s guilty conscience, it should be them.

“Good golly Miss Molly. Where did you get those from?” Jan asked.

“More importantly, what did you have to do to get them?” Jean added.

“They’re a gift, but they’re way too big for my office. I thought you two might get a kick out of them,” Audrey said.

Jean and Jan were only too happy to be recipients of her beneficence, and Audrey left them arguing over where best to position the flowers.

It might not be entirely Zach’s fault that she’d been screwed over, but she couldn’t stomach having his makeup gesture in her face every time she turned around. She needed to be angry with him right now, and she didn’t particularly care if that was fair or not.

Maybe that would change with time, but right now she felt too raw and stupid—and, yes, sulky—to be mature about it.

Zach would have to suck it up, in the same way that she was having to suck it up.

* * *

Z
ACH
CHECKED
HIS
watch as he left his twelve o’clock meeting. A quick chat with Audrey’s assistant this morning had elicited the information that Audrey wasn’t due in till midday. It was nearly one now. Time to do a cruise past her office to see if his floral sacrifice had made a dent in her righteous anger.

“Zach, good timing. I was about to bring this to you,” Lucy said as he stopped at Audrey’s office.

He could see Audrey at her desk out of the corner of his eye, but he kept his focus on her assistant, who was offering him a folder thick with press clippings.

“Is this the latest media monitoring?”

“Yep. Your stuff is toward the back.”

“Thanks, Luce.”

Only when the folder had changed hands did he allow himself to glance into Audrey’s office. She was talking on the phone, but her cool, impersonal gaze flicked to him briefly before returning to the notes in front of her. Not a sign of a thaw in sight—and no sign of the mother of all bouquets, either.

Where the hell had it gone?

He turned to Lucy, about to ask, then shut his jaw. The only thing dumber than asking Audrey where the flowers were was asking her assistant. Media monitoring firmly in hand, he flashed Lucy his best friendly smile and retreated to his office.

Where could Audrey have stashed the flowers? Surely she wouldn’t have thrown them away? There wasn’t a bin in the building big enough to accommodate them.

Unless he counted the huge Dumpsters sitting outside the warehouse.

He shook his head after a second’s contemplation. No way would she march all the way through the building to dispose of his offering. She was far too aware of appearances, and people would be bound to talk. No, it was far more likely that she’d put them in her car so she could dispose of them after hours.

Whatever Audrey had done with his flowers, it was clear he was still a long way from being forgiven. This was obviously going to be an endurance test—Audrey’s outrage pitted against his determination to make things right.

He was contemplating his next move when he saw the email from Whitman’s assistant. He closed his eyes for a brief, regretful moment after he’d read it.

Damn.

Audrey was really going to hate his guts now that Whitman had canceled their presentation. As she’d predicted he would.

He tapped his pen against his desk half a dozen times, considering and rejecting a handful of scenarios before alighting on the only one that seemed remotely viable. He searched until he found the biggest, most decadent chocolate-themed gift basket on the internet. He paused for a moment when he came to the section where he could type in the message for the card.

You were right. I’m sorry things turned out this way. I’m guessing pizza is out of the question now?

He sat back in his chair, considering the few lines of text. Inadequate, but it would have to do.

He hit Send.

* * *

A
UDREY
WAS
ABOUT
to make her tenth phone call the following morning when Lucy appeared in her doorway, a peculiar expression on her face.

“They want to see you at reception,” she said.

Audrey frowned. “What for?”

“There’s a delivery for you.”

“If it’s samples, sign for it and take them to the warehouse,” Audrey said, her attention already returning to her work.

“It’s not that kind of delivery. And you have to sign for it personally.”

Audrey glanced up, confused. Then she saw the glint in her assistant’s eye.

No way.

Zach had done it again.

She stood so fast her chair shot backward and banged against the wall. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

Spine straight, she marched to reception. Sure enough, a delivery man was waiting with a vast cellophane-wrapped wicker basket that appeared to be brimming with goodies.

“You Audrey Mathews?” he asked, offering her an electronic slate to sign.

Audrey smiled tightly. “That’s me.”

She signed, aware of the two receptionists’ interest. Gift hampers and baskets were common enough at Christmas as suppliers tried to curry favor, but the holiday season was still months away.

Bloody Zach.

The delivery man headed for the exit, leaving Audrey with the mammoth basket. She’d barely managed to get her arms around the damned thing and lift it when Henry Whitman stepped out of his office. He zeroed in on her immediately, one eyebrow quirking upward in silent question.

Audrey laughed, the sound sharp and uncomfortable even to her own ears. “I know. Enough to feed a small army, right?”

“Indeed.” Whitman scanned the basket. “I take it you have a sweet tooth, Ms. Mathews?”

“Well, chocolate
is
one of the five major food groups.”

He surprised her by smiling, his arctic eyes warming. “You sound like my wife. She swears that chocolate is a vegetable, since it’s made from cocoa beans.”

“I definitely think she’s onto something there.”

He nodded, still smiling, then walked past the reception desk and around the corner.

He knew her name. How about that. He’d been so distant and cold every time they’d interacted she was convinced he’d barely registered her. But he knew her name. Hopefully that was a good thing.

She was still trying to decide if it was or not when she entered her office.

Lucy bounced out of her seat, following her inside. “Let me guess—another gift from your ‘parents’?” Lucy used her fingers to make air quotes.

So much for her buying Audrey’s story yesterday.

“I have no idea who these are from.”

Lucy’s gaze slid to the envelope taped to the basket, but Audrey deliberately didn’t take the hint, instead sat at her desk and did her best to look as though she was diving into work. Even though she was aware that the natural, expected reaction to receiving such a luxurious gift would be to tear open the envelope before exploring the bounties given.

After what felt like a long time, Lucy made a small dissatisfied sound and left. Only when her assistant was safely ensconced at her work station did Audrey reach for the envelope. She read Zach’s message before hiding it inside her handbag.

He was trying hard, she had to give him that. Although, it was pretty easy to dial up some flowers and some chocolates, wasn’t it? Meanwhile, he was the department’s golden boy, able to do no wrong in the eyes of the people who counted.

She ground her teeth together.

Yeah. She wasn’t quite at the forgiveness stage yet.

She reached for the scissors in her desk drawer and started cutting through the cellophane.

She was about to become the most popular woman in the office.

* * *

E
VERYONE
WAS
EATING
chocolate, from the two women behind the reception desk to the assistants in their cubicles to his fellow buyers and category managers in their offices. The rustle of bonbons being unwrapped followed Zach like a whisper as he made his way through the building.

He didn’t need to ask where all the chocolate had come from. He didn’t even need to shark past Audrey’s office to confirm his guess.

She’d given his gift away.

He tossed his briefcase into the corner of his office with a little too much force. This was getting old, fast. He didn’t enjoy being the whipping boy for a situation that had been beyond his control. He’d never been a grudge-keeper himself, and he didn’t admire people who were.

There was a point where stubbornness became pigheadedness, after all. Where determination became bloody-mindedness and justifiable outrage morphed into holier-than-thou self-congratulation.

What did Audrey want from him? An apology on bended knee? A full-fledged, belly-to-the-ground grovel? Perhaps she’d like him to parade through the department in a hair shirt before prostrating himself in front of her office on a bed of nails?

He pushed his hair back from his forehead, aware that he was getting worked up over what was becoming a farcical battle of wills. If Audrey truly didn’t want to accept his apology, there was precious little he could do about it.

Maybe it was time to let it go. To accept that she was going to hang on to her hurt and anger, and he was going to remain in the wrong in her eyes, no matter how unfair he considered that judgment to be. It stuck in his craw, especially when he’d done his level best to apologize and rectify the situation, but he’d swallowed worse compromises in his lifetime.

He was aware of a sense of disappointment as he checked his voice mail. Even though he’d been almost certain he was never going to act on the attraction he felt for Audrey, there was something profoundly depressing about letting go of the possibility of something happening between them. Because that was what his concession meant, essentially—that he and Audrey would never be more than distantly polite work colleagues from now on. The buzz of excitement he experienced when he was around her, the awareness of her scent, the sound of her voice...

None of that would ever amount to anything.

He would never find out if she was as sensual and wild as he imagined she was. He would never trace the curves of her body or get to taste her lips. He would never learn her secrets and unlock her true self.

All things he should never have wanted from her in the first place, given their circumstances. So maybe he should thank his lucky stars that he’d taken that ill-fated run along the beach. Maybe that run had actually helped save Zach from himself by creating this rift between him and Audrey.

“Heads up,” a voice called.

He glanced up in time to catch sight of something small and shiny whizzing his way. It hit his chest before ricocheting onto his blotter.

“Don’t say I never give you anything,” Gary said before continuing on his way past Zach’s office.

Zach stared at the shiny bonbon. Even though it was barely ten and the last thing he wanted was chocolate, he peeled the wrapper off. He put the chocolate in his mouth and forced himself to note the smooth, velvety texture as it melted on his tongue. Then he swallowed and was left with nothing but a bittersweet aftertaste.

How appropriate.

Despite his best attempts to put the situation out of his mind, he kept circling back to it all day—until Gary entered his office midafternoon and immediately turned to close the door. Everything in Zach went on the alert. Gary was not a closed-door-meeting kind of guy. Which meant this had to be extraordinarily bad news.

“Hey. What’s up?” Zach asked.

Gary stood behind the visitor’s chair and gripped the backrest with both hands. “This is about to become common knowledge, but I wanted to forewarn you. Word is we’re going to lose some people today.”