Rusty Nailed (Cocktail, #2)(17)

“What’s next is I won’t come back up for air until the wedding, then go right back into the thick of it. Seriously, I can’t even begin to tell you how busy I’m going to be. It’s a good thing this is your busy season, because I will be swamped for the foreseeable future. I’m interviewing final candidates for the new intern tomorrow, I’m simultaneously putting the final touches on several projects that I’d normally deal with one at a time—it’s insane.”

“Insane good, though, right?” he asked, and I grinned broadly.

“Insane good, yes. I’m so glad you understand what it’s like to be wrapped up in your work. You’re kind of the best, Wallbanger.”

“I aim to please.”

“You do please; often,” I whispered, my voice taking on a husky tone.

“Getting ready to go through customs now, Caroline.”

“Do you have any idea how much you please me, Simon? Over and over again. Just the thought of you almost makes me want to please myself,” I murmured, and heard him groan.

“Business or pleasure, Mr. Parker?” I could hear an official-sounding voice say.

“Pleasure, please,” I answered naughtily, and Simon hissed.

“Hanging up on you now.” And he did just that.

I fell back into the pillows, flushed and giggly. The things that Wallbanger made me do.

? ? ?

Text from Simon to Caroline fifteen minutes later:

Someone’s in trouble when I get home.

Promise?

Woman, you give me ideas.

Do I, now?

Seriously though, all sexting aside, congratulations. I’m proud of you.

I’m proud of me too. Thanks.

Now then, what are you wearing?

Go chum the water, Wallbanger.

That’s what we’re calling it now?

Sigh. You remember the first time you texted me? From Ireland?

I do.

And you remember when I went across the hall and kicked your door?

There was a short pause. Then:

You just did, didn’t you?

Maybe.

Love you.

Love you more. Be careful with Jaws.

? ? ?

“You got a minute?” I asked, standing in Jillian’s doorway. I’d been trying to pin her down all week to make a final decision about the intern I wanted to bring on board, but she was booked solid with clients and last-minute wedding appointments.

“I’ve got my last dress fitting in twenty minutes; what’s up?” she asked, looking frazzled.

“Well, I’ve interviewed all the interns and narrowed it down to three that I think you’ll want to meet with, and one is actually—”

“You pick, Caroline. This is going to be mainly your intern, so you pick.” She smiled, turning off her computer and grabbing her jacket off the coatrack.

“Um, okay, I can do that, but—wait! Are you leaving now? I thought I had twenty minutes!”

“I have to be there in twenty minutes, which means with traffic, I’ll actually be late. Walk me out?” She gestured for me to follow her.

“Jillian, I need to talk to you about some stuff. There’s a few things that need to be taken care of before you—”

“Caroline. You’ve got this. I trust you. Hire the intern you think is best and I’ll sign off on it, okay?” she called out, walking past me and out into the hallway.

She’s getting married, she’s getting married, be happy, be happy, I chanted in my head.

“Okay, but we need to have a serious powwow about some things before you leave. I don’t know if—”

“Make a list of everything we need to go through, then e-mail it to me, okay? I’ll read it tonight and we’ll talk first thing tomorrow morning, I promise,” she replied, sailing down the stairs and out the front door, calling back over her shoulder, “And congratulations on your first intern!”

I smiled in spite of myself, watching her get into a waiting car. Hair perfectly done, killer heels, off to try on the wedding gown she was going to marry her Prince Charming in.

Spinning on my own slightly less expensive but still somewhat lethal heels, I caught the eye of our receptionist. “Hey, Ashley, can you call that last one, Monica, from Berkeley? Let her know she’s our new intern,” I said. One task down, I headed back to my office to tackle the next thousand.





chapter five


The next morning I was waiting in Jillian’s office when she arrived. As asked, I’d sent her my list of questions and tasks that needed her approval or input before the wedding. We had lots to discuss, but foremost was getting a better idea of when she was coming back.

“Wow, you’re here early,” she exclaimed, shrugging out of her coat and unwrapping her scarf.

I arched an eyebrow at her. “Hey, my boss is all over the map—she’s getting married this weekend, you know. Figured I better nab her while I could.”

She sighed, sinking down into her chair. “Have I been a bridezilla?”

“Nah, I’d characterize you more like the phantom boss,” I joked.

“Watch it, Reynolds; I’d hate to have to write up my maid of honor for insubordination,” she warned, a twinkle in her eye but enough steel to tell me I was pushing it. “So I read your list. It’s long.”