Marie Harte - Bending the Rules

She pitied that man’s wife. And his son, because if Josh Jessup thought he could handle her job, he had another thing coming—namely, her foot up his ass.

She sighed. “What can I do for you, Mr.…?”

The man took her question as an invitation and closed her door behind him, then sat across from her desk. He wore a charcoal suit with a white shirt and snazzy blue tie. The guy looked like a million bucks, and that wasn’t counting the outfit. Where did they make men like this, anyway?

“Rex Samson, at your service.” He nodded, then winked. “And you’re Natalie Wielder.”

“Thanks for filling me in.” Her natural sarcasm never seemed to turn itself off. A testament to her acumen in her job that she’d never been fired for it.

Rex laughed, a deep chuckle that invited her to join in with the merriment. God, this guy was too much for her to handle on a good day. Certainly not at ten o’clock on a Monday morning before she’d had a cup of coffee.

“You’re a real smartass. No wonder I’m in love.” He patted his heart, and her own took a dive.

“Is there something I can help you with, handsome?” There. I admitted it. Now go away. I’m busy. Too busy to wander down the wrong path. Again.

He grinned.

Yes. Very, very busy. Rex seemed way too chummy with the mayor for comfort. A potential adversary, at the least.

“I’ll bet there’s a lot you could help me with, sugar.” No ignoring that innuendo. “But I actually came in here for a reason.” He stared around her office, then brought his deep brown-eyed gaze back to her.

“O-kay. The reason?”

“I need a date.”

“Try a dating service.”

“Next week. The Savannah River Club. Lots of networking to be done, and I need someone savvy about city politics who’ll look good on my arm.” He smiled at her.

“And?”

“And that’s you, sugar.”

“Okay. First of all, my name is Natalie, not ‘sugar’. You can call me Natalie or Ms. Wielder.”

“Not Nat?”

“Nat is a name I reserve for my friends. Since I don’t know you, I can’t exactly call you a friend, can I?”

His slow smile turned her on, and for that reason, she hardened her resolve.

“In addition, I don’t know why you’d want me when there are dozens of well-connected people out there who’d love to be called ‘sugar’ and hang off your arm. Sorry, I’m busy. As in, I work for a living.”

“Ouch. You have teeth.” His smile faded as he looked her over a bit too thoroughly for her system to handle. His sly grin told her he no doubt noticed her nipples rising through her thin blouse. “But I like ’em feisty. So, I’ll pick you up at six next Thursday?”

“I’m pretty sure I just said no.”

“But sugar, I work for a living too. And the mayor said you’d be happy to escort me. I’ve been so busy with business that my social calendar is all but empty. Consider this a favor for your boss. You get to keep an eye on me and get him off your pretty little ass. A win-win.”

She blinked. “He’s not on my ass.”

“But he’d like to be. I think we both know what kind of man Tom Jessup is.”

She hadn’t expected Rex to be so honest about the mayor. “Oh?”

He snorted. “Everyone knows he’s a womanizing dickhead with a history in this town. Got elected because folks loved his daddy, and his momma makes a killer red velvet cake.”

Nat grinned. “Eileen does at that.”

“You have to go to this thing anyway. I know. So you might as well go with me.” He paused. “Unless you’re married or have a boyfriend I don’t know about?”

“You know nothing about me.”

He smiled, like a cat who’d just consumed, feather by feather, a canary. “I know you have to go to next week’s gala. I know you don’t have a significant other, or you’d have said by now.”

“I don’t have a boyfriend. But you didn’t ask if I had a girlfriend.”

“Do you?” He looked intrigued by the idea.

She sighed. “No.”

“Too bad.”

She’d been asked out before, but never by a posh Southern charmer in her office. How surreal. “Is this a joke?”

“Nope.” He stood and stared down at her. “I need a date. I like you. So I’ll pick you up?”

“Hold on.” She stood as well, frowning. “I don’t know the first thing about you. And I—”

He shocked her by leaning over her desk and putting a finger over her lips. “Hush, sugar. You can look me up online. I run S&F. You know, the best microbrewery in the South? Anyhow, I have people who can vouch for me. And I have something you want.”

When he didn’t take his finger away, she pretended to nip it. To her bemusement, his eyes darkened in what looked like lust as he pulled his hand back.

“Oh, a biter. I knew it.”

Her face burned. “Look, Rex. This is just weird. You’re asking me out. On a Monday. In my office.” He stood staring at her, and against her better judgment, she asked, “So just what exactly do you have that you think I’ll want?”

“How about all the juicy gossip I’ve got on some of the heavy hitters in town? Including our esteemed mayor.”

“Really?”

“Yep. I’ve got dirt on a lot of people. Anything you want to know, it’s yours.”

“And for this, all I have to do is show up with you?”

“Well, you’ll have to smile while we dance, too. Think you can do that?”

“Only that,” she warned. “You’re not buying anything else. Got it?”

“Sure thing, sugar. But let me tell you something.” He leaned closer and whispered, “I don’t need to buy it. Ever.”

“I believe you. And you know what? Neither do I.”

Satisfaction curled his lips. “Yeah, I like you just fine, Ms. Wielder. All that mean wrapped up in a sexy-as-hell package. Hmm. We’re gonna have fun next week.”

“One date. I don’t do office relationships, and I’m sorry, but your connection to the mayor puts you in the do-not-date category, regardless of what secrets you might have. So—”

“I’ll pick you up at six Thursday night. We’ll go as friends. Don’t worry. And don’t keep me waiting.”

Then he left. Without asking for her address, which he’d no doubt weasel out of Personnel.

She stared at her open doorway. Such a strange Monday morning. Being hit on, then asked for a date to the swanky party she’d been dreading. All by a gorgeous charmer who looked as if he’d been born in that suit. Had she ever liked being called sugar before? She couldn’t remember. But despite what she’d said she’d liked it just fine today.

“I need coffee. Stat.” She sighed and grabbed a cup, then poured herself a healthy amount. Just in time, too, because her right hand man, Harper, showed up with a glower that would have intimidated anyone else. Derrick followed behind him, arguing into her office and not stopping.

Back to her typical Monday. “Okay, gentlemen—and I use that term loosely. What the hell happened now?”

“Rex, sweetie. You look wonderful.” Sue Samson hugged her son as if she hadn’t seen him two days ago.

“Yeah, Momma. You too.” He hugged her back, praying they could skip the lecture about his pitiful social life this time. After driving her and his daddy back from the airport last weekend, he’d left them to settle in, barely escaping with his sanity. Swear to God, his mother had a real hankering for grandkids. As the only child, he was supposed to breed on command. Lucky him.

“Sit, sit. Some tea?” she asked as she bustled about the kitchen island.

He nodded. He’d grown up in this house. Well, mostly. The early years had been fraught with economic disaster, and they’d moved around a lot. His father had worked his tail off to become a successful venture capitalist, and all with the support of his lifelong partner, Sue. Despite having an old-school father who thought women were no better than chattel, Harry Samson had always treasured his wife. The pair had been through a lot, but always together.

They doted on Rex. Which made disappointing them such a sour ball in his stomach. He so badly wanted to be what they expected—a young Georgian in love with sweet tea, football and country music. Married at twenty-four, kids by twenty-five. But Rex was anything but typical. He liked the tea and football, sure, but preferred jazz to country. And the thought of settling down with some little Susie Homemaker scared the crap of him, because she’d bore him to tears.

Still, he tried to play the part they wanted him to, out of love and respect.

“Great tea, Momma.” He smiled.

“Good. I made it last night. Had to let it steep, you know.” She wore her hair shorter now, but still frosted to perfection, courtesy of the salon downtown. Attractive, friendly, and with a smile that warmed him whenever he saw it, Sue Samson was everyone’s best friend.

“You’re going to the gala next week, right?” Rex hoped to forestall what was sure to be a painful dissection of his current dating prospects. “Me too. I’ve got a date, so don’t even ask.”

“Oh?” She pretended not to care as she put the dishes into the dishwasher, but he knew they’d circle back to his new friend like a heat seeking missile. “That’s nice, dear. So I met Barbara Warren the other day. I’d seen her around, of course, but never met her. Then we started talking, and she is just the nicest woman. I invited her and her husband over for dinner tomorrow.”

“Warren?” That name sounded familiar. “Derrick Warren’s mom?”

The Warrens were well known in town, if she was indeed talking about the same family.

“Yes. I think he’s one of twins.”

Derrick’s brother, Dr. Dylan Warren, was a noted psychiatrist. Derrick worked in construction with their younger brother. The family was well-liked. Rex knew Derrick pretty well. He’d seen the others around town but had never had much to do with them.