Chapter One: The Look
Two words sprang to mind when beautiful eyes the color of deep viridian grabbed Beth from across the ballroom: Quit Staring!
Had no one ever told the man staring at a complete stranger in such an intense manner was considered rude in every known civilized country?
She silently begged his solemn good looks to go away and leave her alone. Instead he continued to watch her with pervasive eyes that seemed to hold a cryptic message for her alone within the depths of bluish-green circles.
Shifting her gaze quickly, she lifted a flute from the silver tray balanced by a tuxedoed waiter and took a quick drink of the soothing champagne.
Beth then focused her attention on what her co-worker Melissa was saying over the mindless chatter surrounding them.
“Isn’t this place perfect? Just look at all the cherries you have to pick from tonight. He’s definitely in here and we’re not leaving until we find him.”
One look at Melissa and Beth knew she was serious about this whole transition guy theory.
Beth had to smile.
The thing about Melissa’s ideas, they sounded good in argument, but bad in practice. Still, she couldn’t control the impulse to ease a peek in the direction of the tall man with jet black hair standing alone beside the terrace doors.
He had averted his head and was now looking about the crowded room with a stolid expression on his face. One that said he would rather be anywhere but here, as would she.
His uncharacteristic air disconnected him from the other attorneys in the room, who for the most part seemed boastful and narcissistic. Not him. Reluctantly she had to admit, without a doubt, he was one of the most provocative…
Oh! …a surge of heat frizzled her cheeks when he looked across suddenly, this time catching her watching him. Beautiful eyes gripped hers once more, rendering her helpless.
Pull away. Retreat like any normal person who didn’t want to give off the wrong vibe. But instead she stood frozen while his wicked stare absorbed her without mercy-without conscience-without shame.
She watched dumbfounded as his gaze dropped in a presumptuous manner to her mouth now slightly ajar from having been caught admiring him so openly. To add to her embarrassment, he didn’t even have the courtesy to hide the smile tweaking his perfect lips. Of course he was amused she was ogling him.
Men that perfect didn’t look twice at girls like her. Except for Peter, she thought, feeling the smart of an open wound that wouldn’t seem to heal.
Suddenly black lashes lifted once again, letting his gaze deliberately bash into hers.
This time her heart gave a violent rumble against her chest, and in automatic reflex she clutched the tiny pearls around her neck now restricting her breathing.
This reaction only seemed to stoke his interest more. Brazen eyes journeyed in a bold manner to her breastbone she knew was rising and falling at a swift pace, and then farther to the swooping neckline of her black cocktail dress.
“Men…” she heard Melissa saying something incoherent to her ears.
Only halfway listening, Beth snatched her eyes away from the flawless man, who was so beautiful…he was almost unbearable to watch.
“W-what?”
“I said men can be such jerks and especially one man in particular. We’re going to get you over Peter Callahan and out of your state of misery once and for all. Honestly, I don’t know what you ever saw in him in the first place,” Melissa said, and then rolled her eyes. “A word to the wise, girl, never and I mean never fall for someone in the office, and certainly not one of the partners. But don’t worry, it was a minor screw-up and if you stick to the program you’ll be good as new come Monday morning.”
“About that,” Beth paused and wet her now feverish lips with a sip of cool champagne. “Chasing after a complete stranger just sounds so… so… desperate.”
“Desperate? Are you kidding me? No. Desperate would be you mooning around the office all day like some wounded puppy in front of a man that’s not worth one shed tear. Let alone the other five million you’ve wasted. One who’s now off skirting around the countryside with the tramp from our competitor’s office doing God knows what, God knows where.”
Beth let out a mournful sigh. “Do you have to keep reminding me?”
“Yes, until you can finally see him for what he truly is. A spoiled little daddy’s boy who thinks he can jack with someone’s emotions because,” Melissa paused and waved her hand in the air as if to pull out a good enough reason. “…because he can, that’s why.”
Beth wrestled an urge to groan. The whole thing seemed like a complete waste of time, but Melissa called it therapy.
Although Beth felt a real therapist might call it a state of delusion, or else latent transference of pent-up emotional distress waiting to be dumped on another unsuspecting soul.
“Tell me again how this transition guy theory of yours will help me forget my heart got stomped on?”
“It’s not just a theory. I’m telling you, Beth, it works. The best way to get over one guy is with another. But remember there are rules, and you have to be reverent of the rules or else you’ll land yourself in even bigger emotional chaos.”
They were back to the rules again—no personal details, no physical intimacy, and absolutely no falling in love.
Melissa had drilled the rules into her brain so many times, she thought they were permanently tattooed there and would now have to be surgically removed.
She had made a transition guy sound so good for a scarred ego and a hammered heart, until Beth finally agreed, but she had no real intentions of following through.
“Chill, we’re at the right place to meet the type of guy you need…. for now. A lawyers’ convention in Vegas—full of sharp, expendable men who will flirt with you obsessively and make you feel beautiful and desired. It’s just a game, Beth. You don’t care about him, he doesn’t care about you. But after a weekend of harmless flirting, you’ll forget all about what’s his face.”
Beth could hardly concentrate on what Melissa was saying. She felt the force of intense, effervescent eyes burning into her again, sending her body into tingle mode.
Looking across the congested room she found him watching her. It felt almost as if he was trying to reach inside her mind and steal a tiny corner of her deepest thought, which was of course an absurd notion.
Quickly she averted her head before Melissa noticed the exchange. But Beth knew it was too late when she heard her friend’s quick intake of breath.
“Well what do you know? I think we just found Mr. Sharp and Expendable.” Melissa’s voice held an unmistakable dreamy quality. “Just look at him standing over there all delicious. His posture screaming, I’m not the type of man to look at twice if you want a serious commitment. But I could be the one to make you feel like you’re the most important person in the world tonight, if you’d allow me.”
Closing her eyes for a brief moment, Beth let out an exasperated breath. She didn’t bother to look around to see who Melissa was talking about. She already knew.
With a firm shake of her head, she said, “No way. He’s far too attractive to take advantage of, and I’m certain I wouldn’t be his type anyway.”
“That makes him all the more perfect. You know you’re not his type and you’ll meet him with your eyes wide open. He’ll say something cheesy like, I’ve been watching you from across the room and you’re by far the most interesting woman here. Then he’ll flatter you with sincere, but meaningless compliments, just a little guiltless flirtation that never hurt anyone. You’ll have some fun, but the greatest thing you’ll take from the experience is realizing, YES, there is life after heartbreak and it’s time to get one.”
The more assertive Melissa talked about the benefits of a transition guy, the more Beth found her objections giving way.
Inhaling a deep breath, she expelled slowly and said, “You’re right. Why should I give anymore thought to a man who ditched me for the first predatory woman that looked his way? I’m just thankful we never took our relationship too far. I guess that doesn’t make me a total idiot. The only thing that hurts was he told me he loved me and wanted to marry me. What kind of a man says something like that when he obviously didn’t mean it?”
“The kind that would say anything to get under your skirt,” Melissa scoffed. “Be glad you didn’t waste your time in bed with him. I’d almost bet he would be bad at it. Guys like Peter Callahan are only interested in their own pleasure. Not like Mr. Hottie over there. No…he would be the type to make a woman caterwaul all night long and beg for more.”
Beth felt her stomach clench into a tight little ball at Melissa’s steamy description of the mysterious, forbidding stranger. She couldn’t resist looking. He was still there, but now he wasn’t alone. Another man had joined him and they appeared to be in deep conversation. A few loose strands of hair had fallen across his forehead making her think he’d just run his fingers across the top of his head. Was he stressed?
Not likely. What could a man that looked like him possibly be worried about?
With his attention elsewhere, it presented the perfect opportunity to take in the rest of his body. She could tell he was fit, probably a runner. The way he held the stem of his champagne glass, the expensive black suit he wore and his stance all screamed sophistication. The kind that only comes from being born into privilege, much like Peter…
Maybe Melissa was right. A little frivolity might be what she needed after all. The fact she was far from home, and would never see him again anyway after this weekend, made the prospect all the more entertaining.
A smile crossed her mind. After all, she did have the company to thank for the excursion. What better way to soothe her battered pride than on The Law Offices of Callahan and Sons’ dime.
“Okay, should I get in line?” Beth asked when she saw an attractive blonde stop and join in the two men’s conversation, feeling all her newfound zest crumble and uncertainty return.
Melissa turned to watch the scene taking place, and then said with eerie confidence, “I don’t think you have anything to worry about. I’m jealous to say, he only seems interested in you. No, what you’re going to do is walk over there, but don’t stop. When you get to the terrace doors, meet his eyes, smile seductively, and give him the look.”
“The look?” Beth asked, thinking her friend was speaking in code again.
“Oh, Lord,” Melissa said, and then stopped a waiter.
Taking the near empty glass from Beth’s hand, she traded it for a full one. “Here, drink faster. We’re not at the office and you don’t have to be so…you. Give him the look that says he’s the greatest thing since electrolysis. But don’t speak to him. Walk on by, exit through the door leading out onto the terrace, and wait for him by the balcony.”
“What if he doesn’t follow me?” Beth could feel her palms starting to moisten. Thinking about acting and acting was entirely two different things.
“I wouldn’t worry.” Melissa turned her head and in a casual manner glanced around. “Something tells me you won’t have to wait too long.”