Corporate Groom. Linda Varner
it on a bathroom wall somewhere.
“That’s right. Um...do you know her?”
“I’m not sure.” He hesitated a millisecond longer, then gave it up with a shake of his head. “So you think that the people in that room aren’t as normal as you and your friend, Jade?”
“If normal is based on most citizens of this country, then I’d have to say no. Based on my experience, people who have this much money are ridiculously preoccupied with making more and don’t realize what’s really important in life.” Belatedly, she noted Brad’s frown. “Not that some of the people in there aren’t nice,” she quickly added. “I mean they’re here supporting this charity, aren’t they?”
He nodded. “Yes, and at considerable cost to them.”
Considerable cost? Just how much was that? Rusty wondered, trying in vain to ignore a second stab of uneasiness. What on earth had Jade hocked to get the money for their tickets? Her soul? Rusty gulped. Surely not her body. “I’m thinking we should talk about something else.”
“Not until we sit down,” Brad answered, looking a bit relieved. “Then we can talk about whatever you want.”
He looked around, spotted an ornate wrought-iron bench several yards farther into the garden, and led the way as they maneuvered through the flowers to get to it. Rusty seated herself beside him...or tried to. Her shoes slipped on the dew-kissed grass, resulting in an abrupt descent that put her half on and half off the bench. Luckily Brad had quick reflexes and saved her from landing on her butt on the ground. Not so luckily, his hand bumped her right breast, which nearly popped completely out of the dress.
“Sorry,” he murmured, face crimson even in the dim glow of the countless twinkle lights illuminating the garden.
“That’s OK,” Rusty replied, turning her back on him, tugging the dress back up. “Mind if I slip off these shoes? They’re lethal on this wet grass.”
“Go right ahead.”
An awkward silence settled on them as she stepped out of the strappy black shoes and set them to one side. The dew felt great on her tortured soles, and Rusty couldri’t help but wiggle her cramped toes as she slid back onto the bench and gave Brad a self-conscious smile. Belatedly she noticed that his arm lay on the back of the bench and now kept her bare skin from touching the cool metal.
Disconcerted, Rusty cleared her throat rather noisily. “So, um, how long have you worked at Sampson, Brad?”
“Nineteen years.”
Rusty’s jaw dropped. “They hire toddlers?”
“I started in the mail room at sixteen,” Brad told her with a grin.
So he was thirty-nve—older than she’d expected, but only seven years more than her own twenty-eight.
“How long have you been working with kids?” he then asked.
“Six years. I was a secretary before that. Hated putting on panty hose every day, so knew I had to find another line of work.” She heard the echo of her candid admission and tensed. “Guess you didn’t need to know that last bit of trivia.”
“Actually,” Brad answered with a laugh so sexy it made her palms sweat, “it gives me a whole new view of you...not that there’s anything wrong with the current one.” His gaze swept her from head to toe, just as it had earlier that night. “Did I tell you how beautiful you look?”
“Why, no.” She couldn’t prevent her smile of pleasure. “Did I tell you how handsome you look?”
“No.” He smiled back.
Rusty felt magic in the air—sheer magic that was three parts romance and one part sex. She desperately wanted him to kiss her, and, when he didn’t right away, swayed ever so slightly in his direction to encourage him.
Brad took the hint. Swiftly eliminating the space between them, he covered her lips with his in a kiss so all-consuming that her head actually spun, and time, place, everything else but him receded into black.
His mouth moved seductively over hers; his fingers brushed over her bare shoulders, then slid down her arms. Rusty shivered in anticipation of where he might touch next, all the while doing a little digital exploration of her own—his rugged jawline, his broad shoulders, the crisp cotton barrier of the shirt covering his chest.
She wished time could stand still. That she and Brad could spend forever—or at least another hour—all alone in this aromatic garden with beautiful music playing softly inside the building.
“Rusty? Are you out here?”
It was Jade...damn the luck. And even as Rusty considered ignoring the hissed words, Brad abruptly ended the kiss.
“I think I heard someone call your name.”
“My friend, Jade.” Reluctantly Rusty stood. “I’ll just go see what she wants. Shouldn’t take but a second.”
“Then I’ll wait right here.”
Good...no, excellent, she decided as she left him and slipped, shoeless, back through the flowers to the veranda. There stood Jade, clearly agitated.
“What are you doing out here all alone?” she instantly demanded, her voice breathless and low. “I’ve been looking for you for at least thirty minutes.”
Rusty grinned. “Actually, I’m not alone.”
“Oh, my God,” Jade exclaimed, grabbing Rusty’s arm in a painful clench. “Are you with him?”
“Him who?”
“The guy I saw you with at the buffet table. The one who gave you a cup of punch.”
“That’s exactly who I’m with, and you’ll never, ever guess who he is.”
“I don’t have to guess,” Jade said. “I know. He’s Reo Sampson, CEO of Sampson Enterprises.”
Rusty hooted with laughter at that ridiculous statement. “He is not, silly. His name is Brad Turner...the very same Brad I offered to buy a beer for this afternoon. Remember my telling you about the mail room guy?”
Jade shook her head and began to drag Rusty toward the door. “I don’t know any Brad. I do know that the man I saw you with a while ago is Reo Sampson, former boyfriend of Colleen O’Shaunessy, my boss.”
Rusty dug her stockinged heels into the veranda, bringing them both to an abrupt halt. “You’re confused.”
“No, darling, you are,” Jade retorted, once again tugging on Rusty’s arm. “And that means we’ve got to get out of here and quick.” They were at the French doors now. Jade glanced back toward the garden, gasped as if she’d seen a ghost, then lunged through the doorway, pulling Rusty along behind. Spinning, she shut and locked the door.
“What on earth are y—” Rusty tripped on her dress, too long now that she’d abandoned the high heels. Torn between retrieving her shoes and following Jade, Rusty stood frozen in indecision. Jade, however, never looked back as she rapidly circumvented the crowd of guests by keeping to the walls. With a huff of exasperation, Rusty came to an abrupt decision and scurried after her.
In seconds they reached an exit, both breathless. Jade yanked open the door and slipped outside, once again hauling Rusty after her. Only when the heavy door clicked shut behind them did the brunette pause for breath, stepping past Rusty to sag against the brick building, squashing her bare toe in the process.
“Ow!” Rusty raised the hem of her skirt and peered down at her foot, fully expecting to find the toe smashed to smithereens.
“Where are your shoes?”
“Back in the garden with Brad.”
“His name is not Brad. It’s Reo. Reo Sampson.”
Rusty studied Jade, noting that she seemed