Nancy Thompson - Fortune's Prince Charming

“You want me to help you stage an intervention for your father?”

Gerald Robinson was a gruff, cranky old genius who certainly wouldn’t appreciate a temporarily contracted employee butting in where he didn’t belong. That was the quickest way to get him a first-class ticket out of there. Do not pass Go. Do not collect two hundred dollars.

Yet one look at Zoe’s earnest face and he knew this time she was not kidding. He’d have to find a way to let her down easily.

He smiled and shook his head. “You must have me confused with someone else, Zoe. I’m the guy who’s good with computers, not people. In fact, I could probably borrow some of those tips you’re trying to gather up for your father. This is a delicate issue. You, his daughter, might be able to go there, but the rest of us need to tread carefully. If I got involved, I guarantee you it wouldn’t be pretty.”

She didn’t say anything. Just stared at her hands in her lap. He hated disappointing her, but this was way out of his league.

“That website you were talking about a minute ago?” he said. “I’d rather do that. It’s more my speed than making over your father’s image.”

She looked up and blinked as if her mind was changing gears.

“Are you saying you’ll help me with the website?”

“Wait. What? No.”

“But you just said you’d rather do that, and I was only half joking when I brought up the new site a minute ago. Phil in design is swamped and I could really use some help. Otherwise, I’ll have to outsource the job. I can write the content, but all that technical HTML stuff is like a foreign language to me. Will you help me, Joaquin? Please?”

She wrinkled her nose and gave him a tentative smile that almost seemed as if she was holding her breath waiting for his answer.

The woman was a force of nature. He wasn’t quite sure what she’d just done there, and he obviously didn’t know what he was doing when he heard himself saying, “Sure, I’ll help you with the website. Why don’t we schedule a meeting?”

He thought he saw a flicker of surprise in Zoe’s eyes. “Oh, thank you. Does tomorrow at three o’clock work for you?”

He called up the calendar on his phone. “I can spare a half hour.”

“Well, we will just have to make the most of that time, then.”

She smiled at him as she stood and smoothed her skirt. Before he could stop himself, his gaze followed the path her hands were tracing. When he realized what he was doing, his gaze skidded back up to her face so fast, if there’d been a music to accompany the moment it would’ve sounded like a needle scratching across a vinyl record.

Had she just played him? The treacherous waters of possibly hosting an intervention to teach Gerald Robinson manners had certainly made the thought of designing a website for the FX350 seem like a child’s birthday party in comparison.

The victorious glint in her eyes tempted him to backpedal, but he didn’t. And when the unspoken window of opportunity to back out closed, he knew he’d need to be careful.

He had to admit he was attracted to her. He’d have to be dead or barely breathing not to be. She was a stunningly beautiful woman, but he was not going to cross that line. He could exercise some self-control for the duration of their thirty-minute meeting.

“So, your place or mine?” The flirtatious note was back in her voice.

But before he could answer, someone knocked and opened the door. “Sorry to bother you— Oh!” Steffi-Anne Bunting, the office manager, stuck her blond head in but stopped midsentence when she saw Zoe standing there.

Her eyes narrowed as she looked back and forth between Zoe and him.

“Do you need something, Steffi-Anne?” Joaquin asked.

“I was just, uh—” She pointed at a clipboard in her hand. “I just noticed that we don’t have your RSVP for the executive office trip to Cowboy Country. We leave this Thursday afternoon and we need a final head count. May I put you down as a yes?”

Steffi-Anne was another one who tended to pop into his office regularly. She could’ve emailed him about this. But since she was here now... “Actually, I sent my regrets last week. Didn’t you get it?”

“Yes,” Steffi-Anne said, “I got it, but—”

“You’re not going?” Zoe cried. “You have to go.”

Joaquin shook his head. “This is a team-building thing. I’m a temporary employee. I didn’t think it was appropriate.”

“It’s completely appropriate,” Steffi-Anne countered with a slightly condescending tone. “That’s why you were invited. That’s why I’m following up.”

The truth was he just wasn’t good at this rah-rah, team-building bull. It made him uncomfortable. No, uncomfortable wasn’t a strong enough word. It made him feel like a caged animal. And all he wanted to do when he felt backed into a corner was get the hell out.

He looked at the two attractive women standing in his office and knew that he should’ve loved the fact that they both seemed to take extra interest in him. There was a time not so long ago when he would’ve dated both of them. At the same time, as a matter of fact. He would’ve reveled in the game of juggling them both, along with various other women he might’ve kept up in the air right along with them.

Not anymore, though.

He’d learned the hard way that office romances usually led to disaster, and he knew damn good and well that toying with emotions was the fastest way to earn an express ticket to hell.

“I’m sure you’ll have a great time at Cowboy Country, but I have a lot of work to get done and a very short amount of time to accomplish it. So, thanks, but I’ll have to decline.”

“We’ll see about that.” Steffi-Anne’s smile was out of context with the edge in her voice.

“Stop pushing him,” Zoe said. “If he doesn’t want to go, he doesn’t have to.”

Clutching the clipboard to her chest, Steffi-Anne put her free hand on her thin hip. “Look, Mr. Robinson wants every employee in the executive office to go on this Cowboy Country retreat. If it makes you feel any better, Joaquin, it’s for work. It’s not for fun. Heaven forbid anyone ever force you to have fun. I think you’ll want to clear your schedule.”

His gaze snared Zoe’s. Despite the way she’d defended him, there seemed to be something hopeful in her eyes. She’d be there, of course. Suddenly, the thought of attending the retreat seemed a lot more palatable.

Chapter Two

The next afternoon Zoe positioned two cappuccinos, red plastic stirrers and various packets of sugar and artificial sweetener on the corner of her desk. She turned the cups just so, then walked over to her office door and looked at them from the angle of someone just entering the room.

“That looks too posed,” she murmured under her breath as she walked back to her desk.

Well, of course it did. “It is posed. Just be cool and casual about it.”

She picked up one of the paper cups and took a sip, making sure to leave a bright red lipstick imprint before setting it closer to her computer keyboard. That way it would look less formal. Not as if she was waiting for Joaquin to drink her coffee.

For good measure she returned the other cup and the condiments to the beverage carrier on the credenza behind her desk.

What if he didn’t like cappuccino? What if it looked too presumptuous that she’d bought him a coffee? What if she drove herself crazy with all this second-guessing?

She placed her hand on her breastbone. Her heart was thudding. She took in a steadying deep breath—going in through her nose, releasing it through her mouth.

This wasn’t a date, and it wasn’t as if she was delivering a coffee to his office out of the blue. He was helping her with the website. It was a nice gesture. Of course it didn’t seem presumptuous.