Read Mixed Signals Page 4


  Chapter 4

  The doorbell rang at exactly eight o’clock.  It could be none other than Junior. No one else was that punctual. Rachel grabbed her clutch and made one last quick primp in the mirror. She thought it ironic that when she tried the least, she looked the best. The figure-hugging charcoal dress looked great with her hair and eyes.

  She opened the door expecting to see Junior, but instead, stared straight into the eyes of an Adonis.

  “You…look lovely, Miss Peters.”

  Rachel looked again. That was no Adonis. It was her very own Junior, standing there in all his glory. Gone was the slicked back hair and in its place was a tumbling mess of sexiness to match his gorgeous eyes and teeth. Maybe she’d been in a coma for the last three years.

  “Um, thanks,” she said, grasping to get herself under control, “but you should probably call me Rachel for the evening. Miss Peters sounds a little too formal for people who are supposed to be friends.”

  She grabbed her notebook from the lamp stand, but he gently slipped it out of her fingers and tossed it back down. “I think we deserve a break tonight, Rachel.” He held the door open for her. “And you might want to call me Ryan.”

  When her shoulder brushed against him, something inside her went off like a four alarm fire, and she felt her throat get tight. She didn’t want to think about how rock hard his body felt, and she definitely didn’t want to think about everything else that trickled in behind it. Rachel did her best to shove the thoughts aside, but a strange little tickle started deep in her belly, and though she tried to suppress it, the nagging feeling just wasn’t going away. As much as he annoyed the living daylights out of her, he was starting to get under her skin – and she liked it.

  “I really have to ask you something,” he said as she settled into the front seat. “Am I going to have an angry boyfriend chasing me down tomorrow?”

  “Maybe a year or two ago, but not now. And I don’t know how angry he would have been considering he triple-timed me on a regular basis.”

  Junior eased the sleek, black car out into traffic. “He was obviously mentally deficient.”

  Rachel sat there trying to figure out if he was complimenting her or insulting the ex.

  “You’ll probably recognize some of the people here tonight. You’ve seen quite a few of them during our lunch meetings over the last three years.” He looked over at her and smiled, nearly burning her up on the spot. “Though they probably won’t recognize you.”

  Thank god for clinical strength deodorant, she thought. Each time he glanced her way, she felt her blood pressure rise.

  “Don’t worry about this getting around in the office.” Rachel ran her finger over the soft, leather seat. “A dead person can’t keep a secret any better than I can.” She felt him looking at her and could practically feel the heat radiating from his body.

  “We’ll log this as training. If this goes well maybe I’ll tap you for another in the future. Many a business deal is made at parties like these.”

  “Let’s see how this one goes, first.” Rachel did a quick look see. Yep. That confirms it. She’d been blind for three years. “I’m not sure how my boss would take it if I started showing up at work with a hangover.”

  Junior laughed. “I’m sure he’s a jerk, anyway.”

  Sometimes, Rachel thought to herself. Thank goodness they arrived at their destination before Rachel was compelled to come up with a comeback. She really hated to tell little, white lies.

  “Here we are.” The valet opened the door and helped Rachel out. “My parents are renting the penthouse on the top floor. No mosquitos in the champagne,” he explained.

  They breezed through two different parties waiting in the lobby, and each group turned to look their way. Though Rachel was used to the occasional spurts of attention from overly friendly guys, she felt safe with mister six foot three escorting her through the crowd.

  In spite of the smells of dozens of perfumes and colognes filling the cramped elevator, Rachel found herself plastered up against a creep who smelled like tacos and insisted on rubbing his arm against hers. Junior glared at the middle-aged jerk and forced himself between them. Thankfully, by the time they reached the top floor, they were alone.

  “I’ve got it!” Rachel snapped her fingers, and her face lit up like the Fourth of July. “No glasses! I couldn’t figure out what was different about you. It’s the glasses.”

  Junior flashed her a smile. Oh, she wished he’d do that more often at the office. Maybe it wouldn’t have taken her three years to figure out he wasn’t a total geek.

  “It’s part of my costume. If you look the part of serious executive, you’ll be taken seriously by your employees. Lack of respect equals poor work performance.”

  Rachel nodded, though she didn’t agree. All the while she was thinking if he could only lose the seriousness he would be perfect.

  A rush of laughter greeted them at the door, and before they went in, Junior turned to Rachel and brushed a stray hair from her eye, grazing her with the end of his finger. The power in that little fingertip nearly knocked Rachel over. She was beginning to think that her ticking biological clock was really a bomb. “Ready?”

  Rachel took a deep breath and cleared her head. “You make it sound so ominous. Is it really gonna be that bad?”

  Junior shrugged. “Not if you don’t mind a lot of elderly people talking about their aches, pains, and bank accounts.”

  Rachel had a leg up on him. She’d gotten a little practice several nights earlier.

  George practically bombarded them when they stepped through the door, and before she knew what was happening, Rachel found herself whisked off to be introduced to mother.

  “This is my lovely wife.” George squeezed his wife’s hand. “And this is Rachel, Mary.”

  Rachel giggled. She couldn’t help herself. “I’m sorry,” she said, biting her upper lip. “It’s just that ‘It’s a Wonderful Life’ is my all-time favorite movie.”

  Mary laughed and pulled Rachel to her in a friendly hug. “I’m impressed! I didn’t realize the young people still watched the classics.”

  Rachel was a classic movie fanatic. “That’s all I watch,” she confessed. She felt hot breath on her bare shoulder and turned around to find Junior standing behind her. The dark, intense look in his eyes did something to her, and she found herself wanting him to touch her – and not in a friendly way.

  “Do you mind if I steal Rachel for a few minutes, Mom? I want to show her the view.”

  Oh, how she wished he’d show her the view, all right, but not the one he was talking about. Rachel shook her head, hoping she could cast away whatever the heck had taken over her senses. She had to keep reminding herself that this was Junior: obnoxious, irritating, bossy, and spoiled.

  A gust of deliciously cool air brushed against her damp forehead. Breathing deeply, she waited for her common sense to kick in, but nothing happened. The breathtaking view from the top of the building was a sight to behold and certainly wasn’t helping her situation.

  “Look! The Empire State Building.” Junior bent down and pointed out across the tops of the buildings.

  Though she was supposed to be following his finger to the desired destination, Rachel found herself leaning just a little closer to take in the scent of his cologne. She’d smelled it a million times at the office, and though she admittedly liked the scent – even on Junior – something about it smelled differently tonight.

  “That’s…really nice,” she purred.

  “You’ve never seen it from up high before?”

  Rachel saw something in Junior’s eyes that made her wonder if he knew exactly what she was thinking. She checked herself and straightened up. “Um…yeah. Once. But it never gets old.”

  Junior looked up. “Too bad we can’t see the stars from here.”

  The idea of Junior combined with stars seemed odd to Rachel. After all, for three years he was little more than a calculating robot who never missed a
day of work and rarely smiled unless he was greeting a potential client. Maybe he was partially human, after all.

  “Champagne?”

  “Hmm?” Rachel pulled herself out of the stars.

  “Champagne,” he repeated.

  Not that again. The last time champagne was involved, things escalated to where they were at the moment. Apparently, she wore her emotions all over her face because Junior picked up on her apprehension.

  “My parents only buy the best. I promise you it won’t be the cheap stuff.”

  Rachel wouldn’t know the cheap from the expensive. The quality wasn’t the problem. The problem was the way she was feeling, and adding alcohol to the mix could be disastrous. “Maybe in a bit.” It would buy her some time, anyway.

  “Mind if I join you?”

  Junior spun around. “Elizabeth! Mom and Dad didn’t tell me you were coming.”

  Elizabeth smiled and threw her arms around Junior’s neck. “And they didn’t tell me you were bringing someone. Especially someone this pretty.”

  Rachel wasn’t sure if she should be defensive or friendly.

  “Rachel, I’d like you to meet my sister, Elizabeth.”

  Rachel let out the strangely jealous breath she’d been holding and extended her hand. “Hello!”

  “Nice to meet you, Rachel. How on earth did my brother convince you to go out with him?”

  The similarities between them were astounding. Same dark waves, same smile, and same shade of mesmerizing gray eyes.

  “He’s my baby brother by three minutes,” Elizabeth explained.

  “Twins?” Rachel perked up. “I have younger brothers who are twins.”

  “Then you’ll understand all of our odd little idiosyncrasies that confound singletons.” She turned to Junior. “I really hated to come out here and interrupt you, but Dad sent me to tell you that Molly Parker’s here.”

  When nothing happened, not even a slight muscle movement, Rachel peeked up and caught the look on Junior’s face. He was not amused.

  “Why?”

  Elizabeth raised a brow and taunted him with an evil grin. “Why did Dad send me, or why is she here?”

  Junior groaned and rubbed a hand over his mouth. “It doesn’t really matter, I suppose.”

  “Oh, pull up your big boy pants, brother dear. Just say hello and send her off to mingle. I’m sure there are lots of people her for her to annoy.” Opening the French doors, Elizabeth stopped and turned around. “And she’s wearing your favorite color - red.” She looked at Rachel. “Nice to meet you, Rachel, and welcome to the jungle.”

  The French doors shut, taking with them the loud laughter escaping from the party.

  “Maybe I should go. I don’t want to get beaten up by an angry girlfriend.”

  Rachel felt a little knot of jealousy creeping up her throat. She didn’t know why she expected him to have a history void of women. As unlikely as it seemed, this Molly character apparently stuck around long enough to have an effect on Junior.

  “Absolutely not. The only reason she’s here is because of her parents. They’re old business acquaintances from nearly twenty-five years ago. If she had any shred of etiquette, she wouldn’t have come.”

  The office Junior was rearing his ugly head. Rachel glanced through the glass in the door. She wanted to see the woman who could rattle Junior.

  “Would you mind accompanying me?” He looked at Rachel, his eyes dripping with the hunger of a beggar. “On my arm like we’re a couple?”

  Rachel didn’t like where this was going. She’d been in the middle of things like this before, and they never turned out good. “Is she big?”

  Junior seemed taken aback at the question. “I didn’t realize women worried about things like that.’

  “Pain is pain, Mr. Stanley.”

  “Ryan. Don’t forget to call me Ryan. And, no. She’s not particularly big, but I wouldn’t say she’s petite like you, either.”

  “That helps me not!” Rachel scoured the room for any flash of red. “I don’t see her. Maybe she left.”

  “You don’t know Molly. I’ve been chased by her since I was five years old, and I’m yet to escape her clutches. She’s like a boomerang. It’s been nearly four months since we last dated and she still calls every week.” He straightened his bow tie. “Are you going to be my girlfriend, or not?”

  Here we go again. “Sure. How much can it hurt?”

  She no sooner said the words and his arm was around her waist, pulling her close as they whisked through the French doors. Definitely not painful. He leaned down and kissed the top of her head and then whispered in her ear. “She’s over by the champagne table. We’ll make this as realistic as possible. Maybe I’ll finally get rid of her for good.”

  Rachel wondered just how real he wanted it to look. She caught the scowl on his face and landed a sharp jab in his ribs. “Get the grimace off of your face, Ryan. We’re supposed to be happy, remember?”

  Molly arrived in a whirlwind, wrapping herself around Ryan like a silk blanket.

  “You never text me back,” she pouted. “I’m beginning to think you don’t like me.” That’s when she saw Rachel. If evil looks were a weapon, Rachel would be dead. “Who’s your friend, Ry.”

  Junior’s grip on Rachel got so tight she thought she’d pop. “This is my fiancée, Rachel Peters.”

  “Fiancée! My goodness, Ry. Don’t you work fast.” Molly pried her fingers out of Junior’s arm and took a step back. “Skinny little thing, isn’t she.” Turning her nose up at Rachel, Molly went back at it again and leaned up against him. “Is this why you’ve been ignoring me?” She used the dreaded baby talk while batting her big, blue eyes. “I said I was sorry, Ry. Why can’t you forgive me?”

  “Is your father here?” Ryan was desperate to change the conversation, but Molly had a one-track mind.

  “No. He couldn’t come.” There she was again, slinking up his arm like a boa constrictor. “You and I will have to have a business meeting of our own later tonight.”

  Rachel scrunched up her nose and poked Molly in the shoulder. “If you don’t mind, I just sent this jacket out to be cleaned yesterday.”

  Molly’s eyes turned into evil little slits. “Well, Ryan Stanley! When you’re finished with your Barbie doll, you know where to find me.” She twisted her head around so fast, her blonde hair was nothing but a blur.

  The unraveling had begun. This night could only end in flames. Rachel pulled Ryan away from the crowd. “How did we go from dating to engaged?” She envisioned her entire career being flushed down the toilet. No one wanted a gold-digging secretary – especially the boss’s wife.

  “Oh, I don’t know, but when I saw her with that smug, assuming look on her face, I guess I just went overboard.”

  “Yeah! Into the deep end and you’re drowning.” Rachel took a deep breath. “Let’s just think about this. How do we go about getting out of an engagement we were never in?” The heat in the room was stifling. “What’s wrong with the air conditioning? This is murder!”

  “Murder?” Ryan’s eyes glazed over. “That’s actually not a bad idea.”

  Rachel hit him. “Back to earth, please!”

  “Okay, okay. Let’s think.” Ryan snapped his fingers. “We’ll just have a very long engagement.”

  Her jaw dropped. With all of his business smarts, this was the best he could come up with? “And you’re never, ever going to date another girl again, and I’m supposed to sit at home every Friday night to perpetuate this phony engagement? Won’t work. Within twenty-four hours, half the city’s gonna know you’re engaged, and you can’t go around getting engaged one weekend and out dating another girl the following weekend. How will that look – for either of us?”

  “You’re right. Then there’re the business parties. They’ll want me to bring my fiancée.” Ryan looked over his shoulder, scanning the room for Molly. “You don’t think she’ll tell anyone, do you?”

  “Oh, it could’ve been so easy,” Rac
hel groaned. “Friend, fiancée. Fiancée, friend. See how easy it is?”

  “I apologize ahead of time for this, Rachel, but Molly’s coming this way.”

  Ryan sank his fingers into the back of her twist and pulled her up against him. The next thing she knew, his gorgeous lips were planted against hers, caressing them like soft rose petals in the summer. Every bit of anger melted away and Rachel found herself kissing him back, wondering how in the hell he could kiss like that and not mean it. Ryan slowly spun her around and backed her out onto the rooftop, all the while keeping her lips locked in his. When the door slapped shut, she thought for sure he would pull away, but when the fleck of his tongue brushed across her lips, she knew this kiss was for real.

  “I’m so sorry,” he panted. “I didn’t mean for that to happen.”

  “W – well,” Rachel stuttered. “You wanted realistic.”

  Still panting and now sweating, Ryan gently nudged up her chin and kissed her on the forehead. “Thank you. You’ve gone above and beyond the call of duty. You’ll have a bonus in your paycheck this week.”

  Rachel stiffened. “I don’t want a bonus.” A ton of filth settled down over her. How could she have let herself be dragged into something so stupid and meaningless? He was no different than any other guy. His hormones just took him for a drive. “Maybe you should take me home, now.”

  “Rachel, please,” he murmured, nuzzling down into her. When she felt his warm, wet mouth against the delicate skin of her neck, she thought her knees would buckle.

  “No,” she managed to get out. “This isn’t funny, anymore. Please take me home.”

  His eyes turned stone hard and he pinned her arms behind her back. “It’s not supposed to be funny. Do you have any idea what it’s like to want someone for three, long years? Someone who snickers about you when you’re not in the room? Yes, I know all about it, Miss Peters, but that didn’t make me want you any less. My god! It’s a miracle I’ve gotten anything accomplished. Every single time you walk into my office, my mind goes blank. Every. Single. Time. So, no. It’s not funny.” He let her arms go and straightened up. “I’ll take you home, now.”

  “I’m…sorry, Ryan. I didn’t know. If I’d known-.”

  “You would’ve laughed in my face.”

  “No. I.” She stopped. As much as it pained her to admit it, his scenario was the most plausible. “Possibly. But what does any of that matter now?”

  He laughed, his voice rough and husky. “What’s changed? I’m still Junior in your eyes.”

  “No. No, you’re not.” A single tear escaped down her cheek. She’d promised herself two years ago that she’d never cry over a man again, and here she was breaking her own rule. “I just can’t let anyone in yet,” she whispered. Rachel had been trying desperately for three years to keep him out, telling herself how annoying, spoiled, and overbearing he was, and he finally managed to sneak his way in after all. The signs were all there. She just chose to re-categorize them and file them away to keep this very thing from happening.

  Ryan sighed and relaxed his muscles. “I’m patient if you’re serious.” She felt his thumb brush against her jawline just before the tears escaped.

  An enormous number of questions swirled around in her head. Who was he? What did he do for fun? What did he think about the last presidential election? And, even more pressing, who was she that she could hide from herself so well that she was blindsided by her own feelings?

  “But, you don’t know anything about me? You don’t know if I’m a slob or a neat freak. You don’t know my favorite color, you don’t know-.”

  “Shhh.” She never knew just how much she could appreciate a man with manicured nails and soft hands until Ryan’s finger came to rest on her lips. “You’re a neat freak – without a doubt. Your favorite color is black and your favorite food is pasta.”

  Rachel raised a brow. “Have you been spying on me?”

  “Only for the last three years,” he confessed. “But not in the way you think. Your desk is too organized. Sometimes it irritates me how neat it is.”

  Rachel thought that one was a little odd considering he was Mister Perfection. “Neatness irritates you?”

  “Well…not really, but when I don’t have anything to complain about, then I have to make stuff up to get you in my office.”

  “And black? How in the hell could you know that’s my favorite color?”

  “Honestly? You don’t know?”

  Rachel shook her head. The way he said it made her feel like she had toilet paper stuck to the bottom of her shoe.

  “You wear it at least three times a week. Now, granted,” he added quickly, “I don’t mind a bit. Black looks…really good on you.”

  There they were again. His warm lips pressed down against hers – only this time his tongue came out to play. With the complete and utter distraction of his kiss, she barely noticed his hands running up from her waist. It felt more right than anything she’d ever done, but when he stopped just shy of her breasts, she pulled away.

  “What’s wrong?” she panted.

  He kissed the tip of her nose. “Not a thing. I just don’t want you to think I’m some kind of animal. Even though I could be, if I wanted to,” he added quickly.

  “What if you find out something about me that you don’t approve of? What if I was a stripper, or something?” Rachel knew that she’d eventually have to confess to her little stint in jail, even if it was only for two hours.

  “I wouldn’t believe it.”

  “But, let’s just say,” she said, pushing him back a little. “Seriously. What would you do?”

  The swinger’s party would be a definite black mark if he found out before she had a chance to tell him herself. But how could she just explain something like that away? If he doubted her judgment, then maybe he’d doubt her, too. Ryan was the type of man she’d always dreamed about – strong, disciplined, stable, stringent, and by the book – the kind you could take home for Sunday dinner. Squeaky clean and no driving record. That’s the type of person he was. She thought back over the years of crazy mischief she’d gotten into with Susan, and regretted not having had a little more common sense along the way.

  “It would have to be something really big: axe murderer, bank robber, balloon popper. You know. Something along those lines.”

  Rachel laughed. “I haven’t popped an innocent balloon in years.”

  “Oh, Rachel,” he said, burying his face in her hair. “I wish things could have been different from the beginning. Maybe we’d be-.” He caught himself. “I’d better stop before I scare you away. Just know this.” He cupped her chin in his hand and looked directly into her eyes. “When I make a commitment, I take it seriously, so if you’re willing to try this, I won’t let you down like the last jerk. We’ll just go slow and get to know each other before we leap into things”

  Rachel knew precisely what he meant by ‘leap into things’. She’s been hasty once or twice and always regretted giving in before she knew exactly who she gave her heart and body to. Jerk Boy had practically obliterated her ability to trust a man ever again. He was so cunning and slick in his lies. But for the first time in three years, she actually believed the words coming from the mouth of the opposite sex, and she trusted each little syllable as if it were an infallible fact.