Tempting The Best Man. Tanya Michaels
Daniel gave her an assessing look, his gaze sliding over her in a way that made her shiver. Then he turned and led the dipshit away, either to hail him a cab or to pummel him in the parking lot. Either option was okay with Mia. She could take care of herself, but the more she thought about what had happened, the angrier she got. If one of the waitresses who routinely worked for her hadn’t called in sick at the last minute, the younger woman would be here now, harassed by unwanted attentions. There was a risk that Mia’s hostile words to a guest could get back to the client and upset him—although Mia had more faith in Eli than that—but as a self-employed party planner, Mia could take that risk without fearing reprisals from a boss. Would the waitress have felt free to stand up for herself, or would she have tolerated the pawing because she needed the job? Mia’s anger surged higher.
When she saw Daniel return, she abandoned the empty bottles she’d been collecting and strode toward him. “Did you beat him up?” Wishful thinking. Rigid rule-follower Daniel Keegan in a fight? Never. Yet he’d looked so deliciously sinister when he’d challenged the guy.
“Of course not. I got him a taxi. Although...” He pursed his lips, unexpected mischief lighting his eyes. “While I was helping him into the car, he may have hit his head. Twice.”
She grinned up at him, and when he returned the smile, her pulse fluttered. The pull of attraction was even stronger now than when he’d given a presentation on social motivation and she’d spent the class wondering what it would take to motivate him to misbehave. She’d concluded he wasn’t capable of it. Yet here he was enjoying an evening of strippers and booze. Promising.
Had he changed over time, or was he only in attendance because he was a friend or colleague of the groom-to-be? Another thought struck her. Was Daniel married? Her gaze slipped to his left hand, and she felt something ridiculously similar to relief when she didn’t spot a ring there. Daniel Keegan hadn’t been in her life in years—and, even when he had, his role had mainly been judgy classmate—so who cared if he was single?
When she realized the silence between them had become officially awkward, she blurted, “I can’t believe I ran into you here.”
“Same. I’m surprised you ended up a cocktail waitress. Although, I suppose you—”
Her hackles rose; he’d always been too quick to judge based on superficial appearance, too arrogant in thinking he knew a damn thing about her. “You suppose what?”
“Well.” He shifted uncomfortably. “Even with your grades, the idea of you in the business world...”
Was what, laughable? Ridiculous? He didn’t think she could cut it. Given the hours she put in, sacrificing the last few years of a social life to make her party-planning business successful, his offhand dismissal was infuriating.
“Same old Keegan,” she snapped. “Still leaping to the nearest conclusion based on cursory observation. What a shame. For half a second, I was thinking about how much fun we could have had if you’d changed.”
* * *
What kind of fun? The unspoken question kept Daniel rooted to the spot even as Mia spun on her heel and abandoned him to deliver another round of drinks.
Mia Hayes had always been sexy, but tonight—in that outfit, with those glinting amber eyes that alternately threatened and promised—she was lethally seductive. When she’d smiled up at him after he’d admitted Terrence had bumped his head, Daniel had been struck with sheer lust. He’d rarely been on the receiving end of her smiles; he might be willing to bust a few more skulls to see it again.
Unfortunately, based on that final glare, the head she wanted to see bashed was his own. He hadn’t meant to insinuate she couldn’t be more than a waitress...or that there was anything wrong with waitressing, for that matter. But he’d obviously put his foot in his mouth.
Not the first time.
When she’d knocked on his door in college, looking for his roommate, Daniel had made some assumptions based on the women his roommate usually dated. During small talk while they’d waited, Mia had made a comment about majoring in business and, taking in her blue-streaked hair and controversial fashion choices, he’d legitimately thought she was kidding. Laughing had not endeared him to her.
Twice before the dancers’ finale, he tried to approach Mia to apologize, but she evaded him, moving with impressive speed in her high heels. He didn’t want to make a scene by cornering her, but as he and the other men boarded the party bus for their next location, he regretted not having the chance to say he was sorry.
“Saw you escort Terrence from the building,” Eli said quietly. “Thanks.”
Daniel nodded. “Your cousin was having trouble taking no for an answer, and the waitress was about to eviscerate him. Damnedest thing—I went to school with her. Mia Hayes.”
“Isn’t she great? Not only has she made the entire wedding process painless, she stepped in tonight when one of her servers canceled last minute.”
Daniel blinked. “What do you mean ‘wedding process’?”
“She’s our event coordinator. She arranged everything for tonight and hosted a bachelorette scavenger hunt for Bex.” He reached into his wallet and pulled out a business card, which he handed to Daniel.
As Eli continued happily chatting about the arrangements Mia had overseen for next weekend, Daniel stared at the writing on the card. She ran her own company. So...not a cocktail waitress, then. Although it had seemed like a valid assumption under the circumstances, he was embarrassed by his reaction to seeing her. When would he learn that Mia Hayes didn’t meet simple expectations? On the plus side, he now had the phone number for her office.
Considering their history, further contact could be disastrous. Yet Daniel caught his own grin reflected in the window. He couldn’t say whether or not a conversation with her would end in disaster. But he was damn sure it wouldn’t be boring.
* * *
“HOW DID I LET Penelope Wainwright talk me into organizing a formal tea?” Mia asked, grateful to be back in the office before Monday was completely over. After showing her client three potential venues in the Roswell historic district, Mia had lost an hour plodding behind school buses and swearing at afternoon traffic. “High-society crap isn’t my area.”
Shannon Diaz, receptionist and one-woman IT department, closed a drawer in the metal filing cabinet. “You agreed because she caught you after a weekend of binging on Downton Abbey episodes,” the brunette reminded her. “And because Penelope is one of our best paying clients. And the tea is a fund-raising event for a good cause. Not to mention, you secretly adore her.”
“Ha! Well, I admire a couple of her qualities,” Mia relented. The sixty-year-old woman did not suffer fools, for instance. “But she’s a pain in the ass to work for—demanding, opinionated...”
Shannon shot her a pointed look over the top of her playfully retro multicolored horn-rimmed glasses.
Mia scowled. “Is it wise to imply I’m an opinionated pain in the ass when your job security is in my hands?”
“You’d be lost without me. My job security is just fine.”
“Too true.” Pausing at Shannon’s desk before heading into her office, Mia added, “You know, as wonderful as your professional confidence is, don’t you think that—”
“Want to hear your messages? No point in wasting office time on my personal life.”
“You’re brilliant and beautiful and not without a sense of humor. Plus, we already know she likes you. All you have to do is ask her out.”
“When I’m ready,” Shannon mumbled.
Timing had been a major hurdle between Shannon and Paige. The woman who ran the French café on the third floor of the office building once asked Shannon on a date, but, emotionally raw from recent heartbreak, Shannon had refused more abruptly than