Seduced by Mr. Right (7 page)

“We'll get through this together.” Sharleen didn't recognize her own voice and feared she was going to break down, too. Pulling herself together, she cleared her throat and forced a smile. “I love you, but if you don't quit drooling on my Versace blouse I'm out of here!”

Jocelyn laughed through her tears. “Sorry about that.”

“No worries. You can buy me another one when you get a fabulous new coaching gig.”

“Do you think I'll get hired on at another agency?”

“I don't think.
I know
,” she said, with a fervent nod. “You're an amazing life coach and a savvy businesswoman. It's just a matter of time before you get another job. I'm sure of it.”

Pride filled Jocelyn's eyes. “I'm going to go take a shower and get dressed.”

Sharleen plugged her nose with one hand and waved the other in front of her face. “Good idea, girlfriend. You stink!”

Wearing a bashful smile, Jocelyn stood and shuffled down the hallway.

Brad messed with the wrong woman, and I'm going to make him pay!
A plan began to formulate in her mind. Sharleen knew what she had to do. She had to get the VP job. It was the answer to her problems, the only way to get rid of Brad “The Snake” McClendon once and for all.

Sharleen envisioned herself signing her new employment contract, moving into the large corner office with the cushy furniture and showing her arch nemesis to the door. The image heartened her, made her more determined than ever to beat Brad at his own game. Because once she was vice president of Pathways Center, she was going to find a way to get rid of Brad and rehire Jocelyn. For the first time since arriving at the house, Sharleen felt as if everything was going to be okay.

Chapter 7

S
harleen spotted Brad at the Pathways Center booth inside the Atlanta Convention Center and narrowed her eyes in disgust. He was nothing to write home about, but what he lacked in the looks department, he more than made up for in personality. He was great with people, especially the opposite sex. Women were gathered around the booth, batting their eyelashes and gazing adoringly at him, as if he were the man of their dreams.

More like a nightmare with dimples!

The sound of his loud, hearty chuckle made her skin crawl. She wanted to knee Brad in the groin for what he'd done to Jocelyn, but lashing out at her colleague—and her boss's favorite employee—would only make the situation worse. Now, more than ever, she needed to keep a cool head. By the time Sharleen reached the booth Brad was alone, typing on his iPhone. The moment he saw her, he jumped to his feet and shoved his cell into his back pocket.

“Hey,” she said, forcing the word out through pursed lips.

“There you are. I've been waiting to see your pretty face.” Brad glanced over his shoulder and licked his lips. “And that fat, juicy ass.”

Sharleen glared at him. “What did you say?”

“Cool your heels. It was a compliment.”

“Keep your compliments to yourself. I don't need them.”

“FYI,” he said, with a wink. “I like when you're feisty. It's a turn-on.”

Taking a giant step back, Sharleen reached into her purse, took out a pack of breath mints and shoved it into his hands. “Here. Take this. I insist.”

His eyes darkened. “You think you're hot stuff because you graduated from Duke, but I'm not impressed. You're a second-rate life coach and everyone knows it.”

Sharleen let his insult roll off her back and smiled brightly at everyone who passed their booth.

“It's too bad about Jocelyn getting canned, huh? In my opinion, it was long overdue...”

Her eyes thinned, and her temper flared. Sharleen wanted to strangle Brad, to kill him with her bare hands. She imagined how good it would feel wringing his scrawny neck.

“Have you spoken to Jocelyn recently?”

Sharleen ignored the question, pretended she didn't hear it. “'Bye, Brad. See you around.”

“I'm not going anywhere. I'm here for the rest of the day. Boss's orders.”

“All Pathways employees are entitled to man the booth for an hour,” she reminded him. “This is my time to hand out business cards and sign up new clients.”

“You were supposed to be here from nine to ten.”

“I switched time slots with Christelle.”

“Too bad,” he said, with a dismissive shrug of his shoulders. “You snooze, you lose.”

“I can't believe this. You're incredible—”

“Thanks, toots, you're not too bad yourself,
and
you have a great rack...” He broke off speaking, and the lewd grin slid off his face. “It's an honor to meet you, Mr. Morretti. I'm Brad McClendon, one of the Master Life Coaches at Pathways Center...”

Sharleen turned around, saw Emilio standing behind her and swallowed a moan. He smelled of expensive cologne and looked fantastic in his tan sports coat, crisp white shirt and blue jeans. Sharleen would never have an affair with a client, but dammit if she wasn't tempted. She wondered what his lips tasted like, longed to caress his handsome face and broad, muscled shoulders. Her attraction to Emilio was all-consuming, so powerful her body throbbed with need. The Italian race-car driver was an international superstar, but he was more than just another rich, hot athlete. He was a sweet, gentle soul. That was damned sexy, appealing in every way. But what impressed Sharleen most about Emilio was his quiet confidence. He had zero ego, and he treated everyone he met with kindness and respect.

“I was hoping I'd find you here.”

Don't just stand there like a bump on a log. Speak, dammit, speak!
All she could think about was kissing him, tasting his lips once and for all. But she wiped the thought from her mind and found her voice. “Hi, Emilio. How are you?”

“Great, now that I've found you.”

“Are you enjoying the conference so far?”

“Yes, as a matter of fact, I am. Thanks for inviting me.” He looked at her with a thoughtful expression. “The Stress Less, Live More workshop starts in fifteen minutes, and I was hoping you'd join me.”

Before Sharleen could respond, Brad stepped in front of her and vigorously shook Emilio's hand. “I'm your biggest fan,” he boasted, with a wide, toothy smile. “I've worked with dozens of high-profile celebrities over the past nine years, and I think we'd be a perfect fit.”

“I already have a life coach, and the fact that I'm here proves how persuasive she is.”

Brad chuckled, but it sounded forced. “You're in good hands.”

“I couldn't have said it better myself.” Emilio gave a curt nod. “See you around, Chad.”

Sharleen wanted to laugh in “Chad”'s face. But she remembered the heartbreaking conversation she'd had that morning with Jocelyn and bit the inside of her cheek to stifle her giggles. They walked through the convention center, out into the lobby and stopped in front of the elevators. “Did you mean what you just said about me being your life coach?”

“Yes, but only if you agree to my terms.”

“They are?” she prompted.

“I would like us to do our sessions at my estate.”

Sharleen mulled over his words, then slowly nodded her head. “I'm fine with that, and as long as you're open and receptive to my coaching methods, we'll get along great.”

“How many sessions do you recommend a week?”

“We can do as few as one or as many as five. It's up to you.”

“Five sounds good.”

His words made her head spin.
Three days ago Emilio threw me out of his estate, and now he wants me to be his life coach. Miracles really
do
happen!
Sharleen liked the idea of seeing him every day and was excited about working with him. Who wouldn't be? He was easy to talk to, the most down-to-earth celebrity she'd ever met and a great conversationalist. Sharleen had high hopes for Emilio and was confident she could help him conquer his grief.

“I'd like to do our sessions during my morning workout. Is that cool with you?”

“Absolutely.” His smile stirred her hormones, made her temperature rise, but she maintained her composure. “Are there any other terms I need to know about?”

“I'll introduce you as my girlfriend to my friends and family, not my life coach.”

Her displeasure must have shown on her face, because he said, “Is that a problem?”

“Emilio, I won't pretend to be something I'm not. That goes against what I believe.”

“I feel strongly about protecting my privacy and keeping my personal life out of the tabloids,” he countered, glancing around the lobby. “Those are my conditions. Take it or leave it.”

A one-liner shot out of her mouth. “How can I refuse when you asked so nicely?”

Emilio fixed his eyes on hers and licked his lips with deliberate slowness, as if he were trying to arouse her. It worked. Her body was on fire, hot with lust. Sharleen sensed his interest in her and their growing attraction, but ignored her feelings. Nothing good could come out of them having a sexual relationship.

Ha!
As if things would
ever
get that far. You're so scared of rejection, you've sabotaged all of your relationships—

“I'm sorry. I didn't mean to snap at you,” Emilio said.

“I'll let it slide this time, but don't let it happen again.”

Amusement gleamed in his eyes. “I wouldn't dream of it.”

“I'm a life coach, not a human doormat, and don't you forget it.”

Emilio chuckled. “Now that you've given me a thorough tongue-lashing, I'd like to head to the workshop. The quicker we finish up here, the quicker we can go eat!”

* * *

Sharleen and Emilio were sitting outside talking on the patio at Dolce Vita Atlanta, when the waiter hustled over to their table.

“I apologize for the delay in bringing your desserts, but the Hawks game just ended, and it's jam-packed inside.”

“No worries,” Emilio said good-naturedly to the waiter. “I'm having such a great time with my beautiful dinner companion, I forgot all about dessert.”

“I wish
I
could be so lucky!” the young waiter said.

Emilio addressed the waiter, but he stared at Sharleen with longing in his eyes. “It's hard to find a good woman, so when you find that special someone, don't let her go.”

The heat of his gaze made her mouth dry and her skin tingle.
The sexiest athlete on the planet is flirting with me. I
must
be dreaming!
Sharleen needed a moment to catch her breath, so she sipped her cocktail. Reflecting on her favorite parts of the day made her smile. After the Stress Less, Live More workshop, they'd chatted with the keynote speaker, checked out the various vendor booths and enjoyed lattes in the lobby café.

Driving to Dolce Vita Atlanta in Emilio's Bugatti had been an exhilarating ride, but nothing compared to entering the celebrity hot spot on his arm. Stylish and elegant, Dolce Vita was known for its outstanding food, excellent service and moneyed clientele. They were given the royal treatment, and when they sat down on the patio, waiters rushed over carrying trays filled with caviar and cocktails. Dinner had been a scrumptious feast and their conversation lively and fun. Attentive and sweet, Emilio asked poignant questions about life coaching and proposed a toast to their new friendship.

Sharleen fanned a hand to her face. An umbrella shielded the booth from the sun, a lavish flower arrangement dressed the table and lanterns cast a soft glow around the patio.

“The peach cobbler was an excellent choice. It's one of my favorites.”

The waiter had a goofy expression on his face and was staring adoringly at Sharleen.

“Thanks,” Emilio said curtly. “We'll let you know if we need anything else.”

The waiter didn't move. Sharleen felt uncomfortable, as if she were under a microscope. But when Emilio squeezed her hand, her anxiety disappeared. She liked when he touched her, couldn't get enough of his gentle caress. She felt as if her mind and body disconnected whenever he was around.
Get it together. You're a successful, accomplished woman. Not a tween girl on her first date!

“I don't mean to be rude, but we'd like to have some privacy.”

“Yes, of course, Mr. Morretti.” Smiling sheepishly, the waiter gave a polite nod. “Enjoy your dessert, miss. I'll be back in a few minutes to check on you.”

The waiter left, and Emilio grinned broadly. “Finally. I thought he'd never leave!”

Laughing, Sharleen picked up her fork and cut into her peach cobbler.

“The waiter definitely likes you.”

She scoffed and rolled her eyes.

“Can't say I blame him, though. You're stunning.”

“Why would he be interested in me?” she asked, ignoring his compliment. “I'm a businesswoman, not a bombshell.”

“Are you saying businesswomen can't be sexy?”

No. But I'm not.

“Intelligence and confidence are what makes a woman irresistible, and you possess both qualities in spades.” His voice deepened, dropped to a husky whisper. “You're unlike anyone I've ever met, and the more time we spend together the more I'm attracted to you.”

Sharleen forced herself to keep her mouth shut, told herself not to indulge him. Flirting with a client was never a good idea, and since she didn't want Emilio to think she had feelings for him, she dodged his gaze and continued eating her dessert.

“How long have you been dating Antwan?”

Sharleen choked on her peach cobbler. To alleviate the burning sensation in her chest, she picked up her glass and sipped her drink. “Antwan and I are friends, and nothing more,” she said. “He's like the brother I never had.”

“That's great news—” His phone buzzed in his pocket, and he fished it out and stared at the screen. “It's my sister. Do you mind?”

“No, not at all. Take as long as you need.”

“Ciao,
Francesca
. Che succede? Tutto bene?”

While Emilio was on the phone, Sharleen sent Jocelyn a text message. She hadn't heard from her friend all day and wanted to see if she was okay. Shielding her eyes from the sun, Sharleen sank back against the plush cushions and crossed her legs.

Sharleen's gaze fell on Emilio, and she spent several minutes examining his strong facial features. He
spoke in Italian, but his furrowed eyebrows and clipped tone suggested he was angry. Ending his call, he dropped his iPhone on the table.

“Is everything okay?”

“Sometimes I feel like a human ATM machine,” he complained, pressing his eyes shut and pinching the bridge of his nose. “My sister blew through her monthly allowance again, and she needs a loan to tide her over until the end of the month.”

“Her monthly allowance? Is she a college student?”

Amusement filled his eyes. “No, higher learning isn't exactly her thing.”

“What does she do for a living?” Sharleen asked.

“You mean besides shopping at Lenox Square?”

Emilio finished his wine, then settled back in the booth. He looked calm, as relaxed as a sunbather on the beach, but she sensed his unease. “Did your sister move with you to Atlanta?”

“Francesca got pregnant shortly after she graduated from high school, and to avoid a scandal in my hometown, my father sent her here to live with me,” he explained. “At the time she was an aspiring model working with several Italian fashion houses, but she put her career on hold to raise Lucca.”

“How did you feel about your father's decision?”