Sarah Mayberry - Her Favourite Rival

He made a frustrated noise as it hit him that he would never know. The odds of Audrey ever willingly broaching the topic again were slim to none, and he certainly wasn’t going to harangue her into confessing. That would give her too much power.

He would simply have to learn to live with the mystery. Yet another unanswered question where she was concerned, to be added to the host of other things he wanted to know about her.

Like what she did when she wasn’t working, and why he found her so compelling, and if the pale, downy skin at the nape of her neck was as soft and fragrant as he imagined....

He loosened his tie and gave himself a mental slap, pushing thoughts of Audrey into a dark, deep corner. Where they were going to stay, for the sake of his peace of mind and his career.

He made a point of not noticing if Audrey’s office was still lit as he made his way to his car an hour later. He drove home via the supermarket and walked in the door just after eight o’clock. He kicked off his shoes, made himself a chicken sandwich and ate in front of the TV. Even though he was tired, he felt wired, his brain unable to focus on the screen.

Maybe he should go out, catch a movie or something. Or maybe read a book. He walked to the bookcase in his study and checked out the shelf he’d reserved for fiction. Two lonely, dusty spy thrillers sat there, and he’d read both of them. Still, it had been a while. The odds were good he’d forgotten enough of the plot to still go along for the ride.

He returned to the couch, one of the books in hand, and muted the TV. He settled down with his legs outstretched, a cushion behind his head. He opened the first page and started reading.

He was intensely aware of the silence in the house, so much so that his own breathing sounded loud in his head. It hit him that this was the first time in months that he’d taken some time for himself, and even though he was ostensibly chilling out, there was still a voice in the back of his mind telling him he should check his email and go over another report.

He set the book down on his belly and let his head drop back. Was it possible to lose the ability to relax? Because if so, he was there.

He stared at the stain on the ceiling from where the roof had leaked and wondered what Audrey was doing tonight.

“Idiot.”

He stood abruptly, the book sliding to the floor.

This little crush he was developing stopped now. No more self-indulgence. No more flirting with the possibilities.

Even though it was dark outside, he changed into his running gear and hit the street. An hour later, he was drenched in sweat, his thigh muscles burning. Most importantly, his mind was blessedly clear.

It would stay that way, too. He had the conference coming up, then a series of catalogs to plan for. Plus whatever drama Whitman would no doubt stir up.

Then there was his mother.

More than enough for one man to handle.

* * *

AUDREY ARRIVED AT work the next morning with a plan: to acknowledge Zach’s generosity in helping her with her car while simultaneously avoiding him as much as possible in the hope that they could both forget the clitoris thing. On the surface they were two agendas at odds with each other, but she was hoping she could swing it. She started her campaign by leaving a box of protein bars on his desk, complete with a breezy note. Thanks for your help yesterday and for the much-needed snack the other night. Both much appreciated. A.

It had taken her a whole hour last night to compose those two sentences, and while she wasn’t entirely happy with them, she figured her note covered the first part of her plan. The second part—the avoidance part—would require more effort and vigilance. The merchandising department might employ in excess of thirty people, but it was essentially a fishbowl and they all swam around one another all day. There were multiple opportunities to run into Zach in the hall, in the staff room, at the printer, near the photocopier, so she needed to stay sharp and be quick on her feet.

And spend a lot of time hiding in her office.

A couple of days should do it, she figured. Long enough for her to stop blushing every time she remembered that moment in the bar, and hopefully long enough for him to forget what he’d overheard.

All went well, avoidance-wise, until midafternoon when she arrived three minutes late for the weekly departmental meeting to find only one seat left. Right next to Zach, naturally.

Well, shit.

Shaking a mental fist at fate, she slid into the empty seat. Zach glanced at her briefly before focusing on Gary, who had the floor. Audrey flipped to a new page in her notebook, determined to get past this silly self-consciousness where he was concerned.

So, she’d said something stupid and potentially revealing in front of the one colleague whom she really didn’t want to do any of the above with. It wasn’t the end of the world. Right?

Right?

Megan sat diagonally opposite, her eyes dancing with suppressed laughter. Audrey pressed her lips together, sure her friend was remembering last night.

At least someone was getting something positive out of the situation. That was nice.

Gary talked about the sales results for the first week of the current catalog, and she made notes to compare some of the figures with her own data. She steadfastly refused to glance sideways at Zach, but she could feel heat stealing into her face anyway, a slow, steadily growing burn.

She concentrated fiercely on her notes, taking down almost every word Gary said, and slowly her embarrassment subsided—that is, until Zach shifted beside her, bumping her shoulder, and the whole rising-tide-of-heat thing started all over again.

By the time the meeting ended she had damp armpits and was desperate for five minutes alone to regain her equilibrium. The moment Gary signaled they could go she was on her feet, gathering her things as though school had been let out for summer.

“Audrey, could I have a word?” Gary called as she all but sprinted for the door.

She pulled up short. “Sure. Of course.”

She joined him at the head of the table, mentally reviewing her to-do list. Maybe he wanted to talk about the new proposal they’d had from one of their lighting suppliers. Or the additions she wanted to make to the rechargeable battery range.

But Gary’s gaze was focused over her shoulder. “You, too, Zach.”

Of course he wanted to talk to Zach at the same time. Today was clearly her day. Not. She hugged her papers to her chest as Zach joined them.

“I’ve got a meeting in ten so I’ll cut to the chase,” Gary said. “Whitman has asked us to put together a competitor analysis. Strengths, weaknesses, growth areas. You know the drill. I thought maybe you two would like to handle it.”

Okay, now she knew fate really was dicking with her. The last-remaining-seat situation was one thing, but offering her a chance to score some major corporate brownie points while linking that same opportunity to her having to work hand-in-glove with Zach? That was simply cruel.

“Sounds good,” Zach said easily. “But I’m happy to handle it on my own if Audrey’s snowed.”

She blinked, drawn out of her own thoughts by his casually worded attempted coup. She bet he’d be happy to handle the analysis on his own. He’d probably love to give Whitman a little shoulder rub and polish his car, too.

“Oh no, I’m up for it,” she said brightly.

Only belatedly did she consider how her words might be construed, given what Zach had overheard her say last night. “I mean, I’m not snowed.” That didn’t sound good, either. Not when she was talking to her immediate boss. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m busy, but I’d like the opportunity.”

“Good. You’ve got two weeks. Whitman wants a presentation after the conference.” Gary gave her a curious look before heading for the door.