His Off Limits Best Friend - Vivian Wood Page 0,11

get to know the basics?

He dialed Sam’s number—or Sandra Brewer’s as his phone indicated. “Hello?” she said. Her voice was groggy.

“It’s past seven, why aren’t you awake?”

“Who is this?” she asked sleepily.

“Your fiancé,” he said.

“Oh!” she said, suddenly awake. “Sorry, I haven’t saved your number in my phone yet.”

“Yeah, well, you might want to get on that. Look, you’ve probably already got your schedule for the next few weeks from my assistant James. But I think it’s best if we meet up before this mess of black tie affairs to get to know each other a little better. I’d rather get our stories straight rather than thinking up basic facts on the fly.”

“I agree,” she said. “That whole thing with you saying I went to school in the UK—”

“Sorry about that,” he said. “I panicked. This whole thing, it’s new to me.”

“I’d hope so,” she said. He ran through his head of possible places to meet her. Somewhere nice, upscale. Somewhere she might wear another one of those sexy little dresses. He felt himself start to harden thinking about that black dress from the night at the bar. Even the suit she wore to meet his family, with that feminine low-cut neckline had sparked his interest.

Not that he was attracted to her by any means. At least not beyond appreciating a sexy body when he saw it. But what was the harm in looking? After all, she was his fiancée.

“Oh my God! Connor? Did you see this? Do you know how many appointments I’m supposed to be at?” Clearly, James really was on top of everything.

“Of course I saw it,” he snapped. “I scheduled them.” She didn’t have to know it was his father pushing for all of this.

“How am I supposed to make time for all of this? I’m not going to quit my job to play your arm candy, if that’s what you have in mind—”

“Calm down, nobody asked you to quit your job, did they?” he asked. “If you’ll actually look at the calendar instead of flipping out, you’ll see they’re all short lunch meetings and dinner engagements. Surely you have a lunch break, don’t you? And you eat dinner, correct?”

“Well, yeah,” she said.

“Good, then I don’t see what the big deal is. Your office is close to downtown anyway. I’ll pick you up and make sure you get back to work in a timely fashion. I’m sure the clients will understand that you’re a career woman.”

“A career woman?” she asked. “Really? What, did you step right out of a Mad Men episode?”

“You know what I mean,” he growled.

“Mr. Harris?” James asked, sticking his head in again. He tapped his bare wrist and raised his brows. “GQ,” he mouthed.

“Alright, alright,” Connor told him. “I’m coming.”

“Sandra, we need to talk about this later. I’ll text you the time and place to meet tonight and we’ll talk about this in person. Consider this a day off from appointments. I’ll explain to the clients that you had a conference all day today.”

“It’s Sam,” she said in exasperation.

“Yeah, yeah, you know what I meant,” he said.

From the door, James tapped at his wrist with more insistence.

“I see you!” Connor said. He hung up on Sam without saying goodbye.

“You’re just going to adore the E in C of GQ,” James gushed. “He’s fantastic, really.”

“E in C?”

“Editor in Chief,” James said slowly. “The last time I met him, he was wearing the most delicious pair of Helmut Lang trousers, and I told him—”

“James, if you don’t mind, can we keep the chattering to a minimum? It’s not even eight o’clock and I already have a headache.”

“Oh my! That’s my fault. We’ll swing by and I’ll get you your coffee to enjoy on the way. Americano with a dash of cream, one sugar and a shot in the dark. Correct?”

“Yeah, how’d you—you know what, never mind. That’s right.”

James smiled at him. “I know how important the ritual morning cup of coffee is,” he said. “Have you tried French press before? I personally find it to be quite…”

Connor sighed and let James babble on. By the time they pulled up in front of the building to meet with GQ, Connor was adept at tuning him out almost completely. In fact, James’ voice was quiet soothing background noise. Either that, or the coffee was working its magic.

As they walked through the lobby and James led him toward the tucked-away café in the back, Connor’s phone buzzed in his jacket. He pulled it out and there was