verbalized than it did in his head.
“Are you doing drugs?”
“You know me better than that.”
“Yeah, and that’s why I reckon you’re snorting something. The Marc Fairley I know chases skirt but never falls in love.”
Marc leaned his head against the car headrest, shut his eyes, blocking out the Happy Days vista in front of him.
“Ever heard of the town Love?”
“Nope. Sure you’re not doing drugs?”
“That’s where I am. Family business. Should be back Monday if everything works out.”
He didn’t mean to say if. He’d make it when if it killed him. Bad enough spending one night here, two nights would render him catatonic and any longer…he couldn’t think beyond that.
“Sounds serious. Anything I can help with?”
The thought of telling Rob, the epitome of LA’s slick movers-and-shakers, about his mother flipping out for a guy named Hank after dabbling in Internet dating and him spending the night at a motel called the Love Inn in his quest to save her from becoming Mrs. Hank, made him want to slam his hand against the dash, hard.
“Hold the fort ‘til I get back.”
“Sure thing, big guy. Stay cool.”
An image of Sierra staring at him with fire in her blue eyes flashed into his mind, eradicating cool from his memory banks in an instant.
She’d pushed all his buttons, including the one that responded on a subliminal horn-dog level, and he wondered what would happen if he pushed back over dinner tonight.
“How’s the Tech file panning out?”
He should be in LA handling the biggest coup this century, not holed up here fantasizing about a woman who would be a distant memory come Monday.
“I’m waiting to confirm the final list of top five local Net companies, then we’re ready to strike. Once we buy them out, we hit the big time. Numero uno.”
At last. The position he’d coveted since the first day he’d started the company. Making A-Corp the biggest acquisitions company in California would be all the sweeter for knocking the old man’s mob off the top rung of the corporate ladder.
If anyone deserved to be taken down, it was George Fairley. The callous bastard would pay for what he’d done to his mom.
“Keep me posted. I want those names as soon as you have them. And email me the updated file, okay?”
The rundown motel better have Internet access. He’d been in such a hurry to hotfoot it out of LA and get to his mom he’d left his laptop behind. Another bad sign. Since when did he forget anything associated with business?
When he wasn’t behind his desk he was on his cell or had his laptop chained to his wrist, absorbed in work twenty-four-seven, just the way he liked it. He could understand business, could control it, which is more than he could say for the rest of his life.
“Sure thing, boss. And get this. One of those top five companies is an online dating agency. Crazy, huh? Who knew peddling crap to desperadoes could be so lucrative?”
Dread crawled under Marc’s skin. Nah…couldn’t be…must be loads of successful Web dating sites based in California.
“Check out this for a name.” Rob’s phony laugh, half-snort, half-guffaw, increased his trepidation. “ Love Byte . Corny, huh? Should be a cinch carving up that little relic from the nineties.”
Marc clenched the phone to his ear, wishing he didn’t know, wishing he could replay the last five minutes and erase Sierra’s company off his hit list.
So much for his fabled ruthlessness. The instant he’d heard that loony name his stomach had roiled with the knowledge he’d have to take down the sassy redhead’s company.
He shouldn’t care. But he did. Somewhere between scoring a dinner invitation and getting drenched in ice coffee he decided he liked her quick wit, her acerbic tongue and the rest of her; particularly the rest of her, with those hot curves and long legs and perky breasts.
Damn.
“Boss? You still there?”
“Yeah.” Marc barked into the phone before swiping a hand
“Are you doing drugs?”
“You know me better than that.”
“Yeah, and that’s why I reckon you’re snorting something. The Marc Fairley I know chases skirt but never falls in love.”
Marc leaned his head against the car headrest, shut his eyes, blocking out the Happy Days vista in front of him.
“Ever heard of the town Love?”
“Nope. Sure you’re not doing drugs?”
“That’s where I am. Family business. Should be back Monday if everything works out.”
He didn’t mean to say if. He’d make it when if it killed him. Bad enough spending one night here, two nights would render him catatonic and any longer…he couldn’t think beyond that.
“Sounds serious. Anything I can help with?”
The thought of telling Rob, the epitome of LA’s slick movers-and-shakers, about his mother flipping out for a guy named Hank after dabbling in Internet dating and him spending the night at a motel called the Love Inn in his quest to save her from becoming Mrs. Hank, made him want to slam his hand against the dash, hard.
“Hold the fort ‘til I get back.”
“Sure thing, big guy. Stay cool.”
An image of Sierra staring at him with fire in her blue eyes flashed into his mind, eradicating cool from his memory banks in an instant.
She’d pushed all his buttons, including the one that responded on a subliminal horn-dog level, and he wondered what would happen if he pushed back over dinner tonight.
“How’s the Tech file panning out?”
He should be in LA handling the biggest coup this century, not holed up here fantasizing about a woman who would be a distant memory come Monday.
“I’m waiting to confirm the final list of top five local Net companies, then we’re ready to strike. Once we buy them out, we hit the big time. Numero uno.”
At last. The position he’d coveted since the first day he’d started the company. Making A-Corp the biggest acquisitions company in California would be all the sweeter for knocking the old man’s mob off the top rung of the corporate ladder.
If anyone deserved to be taken down, it was George Fairley. The callous bastard would pay for what he’d done to his mom.
“Keep me posted. I want those names as soon as you have them. And email me the updated file, okay?”
The rundown motel better have Internet access. He’d been in such a hurry to hotfoot it out of LA and get to his mom he’d left his laptop behind. Another bad sign. Since when did he forget anything associated with business?
When he wasn’t behind his desk he was on his cell or had his laptop chained to his wrist, absorbed in work twenty-four-seven, just the way he liked it. He could understand business, could control it, which is more than he could say for the rest of his life.
“Sure thing, boss. And get this. One of those top five companies is an online dating agency. Crazy, huh? Who knew peddling crap to desperadoes could be so lucrative?”
Dread crawled under Marc’s skin. Nah…couldn’t be…must be loads of successful Web dating sites based in California.
“Check out this for a name.” Rob’s phony laugh, half-snort, half-guffaw, increased his trepidation. “ Love Byte . Corny, huh? Should be a cinch carving up that little relic from the nineties.”
Marc clenched the phone to his ear, wishing he didn’t know, wishing he could replay the last five minutes and erase Sierra’s company off his hit list.
So much for his fabled ruthlessness. The instant he’d heard that loony name his stomach had roiled with the knowledge he’d have to take down the sassy redhead’s company.
He shouldn’t care. But he did. Somewhere between scoring a dinner invitation and getting drenched in ice coffee he decided he liked her quick wit, her acerbic tongue and the rest of her; particularly the rest of her, with those hot curves and long legs and perky breasts.
Damn.
“Boss? You still there?”
“Yeah.” Marc barked into the phone before swiping a hand
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