Champagne Kisses. Zuri Day

      Chapter 7

      She almost asked, “Donovan who?” Such was her surprise. But in Marissa’s world, there was only one. The one she’d been thinking of almost incessantly since yesterday. The one whose voice was the last one she’d imagined hearing today.

      “Hello.” And again, the type of silence between them that begged for a word…or a cricket chirp.

      “Yes, Marissa, do you have a minute?”

      I’m about to have a heart attack, but that wasn’t your question. She cleared her throat. “Yes. I’m glad you called, Donovan,” she said, determined to straighten her big-girl backbone and act like she’d known how to converse since the age of two. “I wanted to apologize for snapping at you after the rehearsal dinner. Diamond told me that your assistant, Sharon, had to have surgery, and I’m sure the news was stressful to you. I hope she’ll be doing better soon.”

      “Your apology is accepted, and I hope you’ll accept mine, as well. Stress is never a reason to be rude. I’m sorry for snapping back.”

      “So how is she?”

      “Doing better, thanks.” Marissa waited for further comment. She’d said what she wanted to say; now it was up to Donovan to say why he’d called. “Jackson gave me your number before he left.”

      “Oh.”

      “It’s work related,” Donovan quickly clarified.

      “Oh.”

      Amazing how the same word could be said in two totally different ways.

      Marissa heard Donovan chuckle, and the sound sent an unexpected shiver down her spine. Instantly, she realized two things. One, she hadn’t heard Donovan laugh before, and two, she really liked how it sounded: warm and deep, like the still waters she felt flowed beneath that professional, businesslike exterior he showed to the world.

      “That probably came out wrong. I just didn’t want you to get the impression that I was trying to hit on you.”

      “Okay,” Marissa said, drawing out the word.

      “This hole just keeps getting deeper, doesn’t it?”

      “You are kinda giving a shovel some competition.”

      “Then I’ll get to the point. Jackson said that the administrative workload at Boss Construction would be fairly light these next two weeks, and he volunteered you for a project I’m working on.”

      “I thought the mice were supposed to play when the boss was away.”

      “That’s usually the way it works. Perhaps when he gets back I can talk him into giving you an extra week’s vacation as compensation…along with the money you’ll be paid for your work here.”

      “So I’m going to continue receiving my salary through Boss Construction and you’re going to pay me?”

      “That’s right.”

      “Well, Donovan, that’s a hard offer to refuse.” Believing that Donovan was waiting for her answer, she asked him, “When do I start?”

      “Bright and early tomorrow morning, let’s say nine o’clock. Also, you live in San Diego, correct?”

      “Right.”

      “I live in La Jolla, but because of the intensity of these next two weeks, I’m staying at the resort. Would it be a problem for you to stay here, as well? We’ll be keeping late hours, and staying here will alleviate the time you’d spend in rush hour traffic.”

      For many reasons, including a man whose unexpected reappearance in her life had left her paranoid and whose motives were still unclear, she didn’t hesitate. “No, Donovan, that wouldn’t be a problem at all. You said for two weeks, correct?”

      “Yes.”

      “Does that include the weekend?”

      “I’m sorry, Marissa, but probably yes. We’ll more than likely be working around the clock.”

      “That’s fine, I just wanted to know how much to pack.”

      “Any other questions?”

      “No. I guess I’ll learn everything about the project tomorrow.”

      “That you will. I’ll see you then.”

      “Okay, Donovan. I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

      Marissa ended the call and felt a flutter of nervousness in her stomach. She knew that her uneasiness had nothing to do with whether or not she could handle the assignment and everything to do with whether or not she could handle the man.

      * * *

      The following morning, a bright and sunny Monday without a cloud in the sky, a fairly confident Marissa arrived at Drake Wines Resort and Spa. She entered the lobby and followed the gold-plated signs past the still-closed gift shop, up a flight of stairs to the second floor and down a hallway to a set of double doors. Hesitating for just a second, just long enough to take a calming breath, she opened the door, stepped inside and walked up to the young woman seated behind a low-slung counter.

      “Hello. May I help you?”

      “Yes, Marissa Hayes to see Donovan Drake.”

      The perky receptionist with the warm, sincere smile touched a button on her switchboard. After announcing that Marissa had arrived, she asked if Marissa wanted a morning beverage. After Marissa declined, the receptionist directed her to a seat in a cozily designed waiting area just across from the receptionist counter. Instead of sitting, Marissa took the time to admire the brightly colored artwork, the bronze table whatnots and the live jade plant.

      “Ms. Hayes?” Marissa turned to see another smiling, welcoming face. As she followed this assistant back through a beautifully appointed space—silk-covered, beige-colored walls, deep-ply tan carpeting, burnished mahogany and accessories in various metals—she was struck by the irony of life, how not so long ago her world seemed bleak and almost unbearable. Her parents’ relocation, a friend’s betrayal and leaving a job she loved as a result of that betrayal had sent Marissa’s world into turmoil where she questioned all and trusted none. Then she’d met Jackson Wright and got the job with Boss Construction. The work, her fellow employees and her trustworthy boss became her anchors, and she was content to build her world around them. She hadn’t thought about dating or bringing a significant other into her life. So why was she thinking about it now?

      The answer was just around the corner, talking on the phone as he waved her in. The assistant who’d brought her to Donovan’s office gave a brief nod and closed the door on her way out. Marissa forced herself to meet Donovan’s eyes, hooded brown treasures that seemed to drink her in as she walked to one of two chocolate-colored leather chairs in front of his massive oak desk. She sat down, placed her hands in her lap, feigned a deep interest in the trappings of Donovan’s office and resigned herself to the fact that these were going to be the longest two weeks of her life.