Vicki Thompson - After Hours

Roll the cameras. The sexy lady lawyer would wander into the reception area, and… No, first she’d unfasten the top three buttons of her blouse. Then she would wander into the reception area.

Kneeling on the floor next to the phone jack would be a gorgeous man wearing a tight T-shirt, soft jeans, work boots and a tool belt. The tool belt would ride low on his hips and would contain…lots of tools.

She would clear her throat. He would glance up. Or…wait. She’d walk right up beside him, and he’d look over and notice shapely legs placed conveniently at his eye level. Slowly his gaze would travel upward, appraisingly, until he was staring into her baby blues, mesmerized. No words would be necessary. He would know what to do. And she would let him do it.

In reality, the guy in the reception area probably had a wife, six kids, and a beer belly. Or it wasn’t a guy at all. No reason a woman couldn’t be installing the new system. The way Eileen’s luck had been running today, the installer would definitely be a woman.

The fantasy had been fun for a while, though. As long as she didn’t go out there, she could hold on to it. But she needed to make her presence known. The memo had requested that all personnel vacate the premises by seven. The installer expected an empty suite of offices, and he or she might not appreciate being startled by an employee who’d forgotten about the memo.

With a sigh, she put the umbrella back in her bottom desk drawer, wheeled her chair away from her desk and prepared to go out and burst her fantasy bubble.

SHANE NICHOLS TOOK OFF the faceplate on the telephone jack and inspected the wiring. Looked like it would support the added lines the client had requested, no problem. Funny, he’d been hoping for more of a challenge. He’d forgotten how much he loved the hands-on part of this business.

To think at one time he’d been eager for Mercury Communications to take off so that he could hire other people to do the actual installations. His dream had come true, leaving him stuck behind a desk while everybody else had the fun of going out on jobs. His job was now all about drumming up business and keeping current clients happy. Even when he left the office, he felt obliged to keep his pager and his cell with him at all times, in case a client had an emergency.

Both were nestled in his tool belt right now. He’d built his business on personal service, and in the beginning he’d loved that aspect. But little by little, like a creeping kudzu vine, the personal service aspect had obliterated his free time. If he didn’t deal with problems himself, especially for long-standing customers, they accused him of being a big shot who didn’t have time for them.

To be fair, there might be other aspects of the business he could let go of, but he didn’t know how. He’d handled everything himself for so long that he couldn’t imagine turning decisions over to someone else, someone without his background, someone who would probably screw it up. He’d created a monster.

At least tonight he could have fun with an installation, although he’d probably be interrupted by calls. Lou had been assigned this job, but Lou’s wife had unexpectedly gone into labor with their first kid. Lou needed to be with her.

Shane had leaped at the chance to take over and install the new system at Traynor and Sizemore. He must have sounded way too cheerful about giving up his evening, because Lou had asked him if something was wrong.

Hell, yes, something was wrong. His life was a mess, and he had only himself to blame. He’d created a company that now controlled his life. He’d sell it, but then he’d worry about how his employees would be treated. They were all terrific and wouldn’t be happy about a new owner.

He’d never imagined that success could be such a pain in the ass. The piles of paperwork on his desk grew taller every day, too. Mercury consumed so much of his time that he had no hobbies, no social life, barely even watched TV. His parents and brother had been after him about how hard he worked, and he kept promising to cut back, somehow. They were empty promises.

If this installation hadn’t forced him out of the office tonight, he might still be working at his desk, computer turned on, files open everywhere. Innovations in communications networks happened constantly, and he had to keep up if Mercury was to stay competitive.

But tonight he could forget about everything but upgrading the system for Traynor and Sizemore. The silence in the office building soothed him. Ironically for a guy who peddled phones, he’d started to hate the sound of the damn things ringing.

Now that it was too late, he knew what he wanted. His perfect life would include living in a small town, working a nine-to-five job for somebody else, and simply enjoying himself in his free time. More specifically, he wanted to enjoy himself in a particular way, i.e., with some special woman.

He’d even imagined what she’d look like. She’d be a blue-eyed blond, because he was a sucker for blonds, blonds with hair down past their shoulders. He didn’t require centerfold measurements, but he’d like her to have a figure that would look good in the lingerie he’d buy for her.

Not too long ago he’d seen a woman who matched that description in this very building, which was probably why he was thinking about the subject now. He’d had a tantalizing glimpse of her through an open door on his way back to Traynor’s office to discuss the installation. She’d been concentrating on her work and hadn’t looked up.

Because she was a lawyer, she’d satisfy another requirement of his: she’d be smart. But one glance couldn’t verify whether she had a sense of adventure, and he wanted that in a woman, especially when it came to sex. He harbored his share of fantasies, and most of them were unfulfilled.

Maybe he was asking too much of one woman and nobody would be able to fit his admittedly ambitious specs. But he’d never know if he didn’t go looking. With the demands of his company, he’d had precious little time to do that.

He was so lost in his daydream of the perfect woman that when someone coughed, he jumped and dropped his cordless screwdriver. Looking up, he did a classic double take. Standing just inside the hallway was his blue-eyed blonde, the same woman he’d seen so briefly through an office doorway. She stood posed in a way that showed off a Victoria’s Secret figure. And she was smiling.

EILEEN’S HEART BEAT fast enough to make her ears ring. On the far side of the reception area stood a red metal dolly loaded with boxes, presumably holding new telephone equipment. But the boxes didn’t interest her. The man kneeling on the carpet beside the telephone jack did. Maybe she’d been concentrating so hard on finding the perfect stranger that she’d caused one to appear, like a genie out of a bottle.

However it had happened, there he was, her fantasy come to life. Rumpled black hair, green eyes, square jaw—and that was only the beginning. She’d put in an order for a rugged guy in jeans and a T-shirt, and he’d filled it. The T-shirt wasn’t quite snug enough to suit her, but his chest created an excellent backdrop for his company logo, a Greek god with wings on his feet. Mercury Communications was spelled out in navy on a gray background. He wore no rings, wedding or otherwise.

All her specifications had been met, even to the leather tool belt strapped around his lean hips. If Benjamin’s trip to Switzerland had been an engraved invitation to sin, then this man’s appearance was a red carpet rolled right up to the toes of her high-heeled pumps. But she had to play it right.

She cleared her throat and hoped her voice wouldn’t tremble. “Hi.”

“Hi.” His direct gaze disconcerted her.