little thief nicked food, mingled and danced in a way that could draw the attention of every man in the room. Even his. Though that didn’t give him a pass for what he just did.
But there was something about the way she glared at him, the way she didn’t take any of his crap and fought him tooth and nail for what she wanted that triggered an insane need to spar with her. He’d seen her arriving in a cute, red dress and he’d felt the same way he had that first night.
He wanted her. There was no denying it at this point. And so, instead of offering her an alternative to showing up where he was, he delivered her an ultimatum.
Better to move on than risk any more arsehole statements coming out his mouth. A while later, he got talking with Casey, an assistant to the head of HR, which would have normally been risky. Except she never questioned his identity, and who would remember everyone’s name in a company with five offices and thousands of employees?
She wasn’t anything like his little thief either. Casey was bubbly and fun, suggesting they head to her room after they take advantage of the free food and nibbles. She was exactly his kind of woman – relaxing to be around, easy to talk to, and up for a good time. And he’d long since gotten used to the feeling of repetition. It was a much safer option than the alternative.
Casey excused herself for a bathroom break and he pulled out his phone to check for any messages. Jeffrey hadn’t spoken to him since their fight, despite the fact they were supposed to be running a company together, and earlier Dean had decided enough was enough and tried to call him before he came out, but there had been no answer.
There was an email though, but not from his pissed off brother. Worse, it was from his parents. They were inviting him to Jeffrey and Alana’s engagement dinner this weekend at a posh restaurant Dean and Jeffrey would be expected to foot the bill for. And he knew the reason for the invite wouldn’t be because they wanted him there. Nope, they wouldn’t have cared less under normal circumstances. His parents were all about appearances, and the invite could only mean one thing. Jeffrey’s future in-laws were coming.
God forbid they had to admit they weren’t perfect parents with perfect sons.
He shook his head. He wasn’t even fazed by the formal way they addressed him anymore. He’d gotten over all that shit a long time ago.
However, he was annoyed at Jeffrey. His brother owed him better than letting him find out from his parents that he was about to get a sister-in-law. Then again, after the way he’d acted when Jeffrey had been about to propose, he could hardly blame his brother.
He caught sight of Casey pushing her way through the mingling crowds, but something had changed. Her lips were tight and her eyes were like daggers as she stormed over to him. When she was a nanosecond away from barrelling into his chest, she lifted her hand and slapped him full force on the face.
‘You bastard!’ she screamed, then went for another swing.
Dean caught both her hands, wishing he had one free to rub the sting out of his jaw. ‘What the fuck was that for?’ he whispered, trying not to attract attention. But it was too late for that. The room had silenced and all eyes were on them.
‘You know what it’s for. Nicole told me. You’ve slept with half the office and given them all crabs!’ she shrieked.
At least there was one plus in what she’d said. Half the party was eyeing each other suspiciously and edging away from what he assumed to be the single females.
Casey tried to head butt him but he dodged it, let her go and took a few steps back.
‘I would never sleep with someone as low as you!’
With that she stormed away leaving him gaping at her retreating back. He felt all eyes on him again. At least this story would thaw Jeffrey out – that is, assuming they didn’t quarantine him for a good de-lousing.
The cause of his public ridicule was easy enough to spot. She was across the room, right by the exit, almost vibrating with laughter and holding one hand over her mouth to mute the sound. He smiled slowly at her and had the satisfaction of seeing her eyes widen before she cleared off.
It seemed his little thief had just declared war.
Game on.
By Friday she was desperate to get out of the house. Between spending the days trying to meet Mick the Dick’s impossible deadlines and the nights with a quiet, unresponsive Rose, she just wanted to forget about her troubles and let her hair down with a bunch of strangers who didn’t expect anything from her.
It also had something to do with the fact that, deep down, she was still reeling from her victory on Monday night. Finally, she’d gotten her payback on Mr Perfect and it had been a doozy. She’d also managed to get guest lists and names from the previous events to try to figure out who he was, and the only name that kept recurring was ‘Dean’. It was a common enough name, but the surname was always different. So she wasn’t exactly sure.
No doubt this guy, whoever he was, had a lot more experience crashing parties than she did. She just couldn’t understand why he’d bother. If he could afford all those tailor-made suits surely he could fork out for drinks at a bar if he just wanted to pick up women.
Still, she wasn’t going to spend any more energy on him. As far as she was concerned, they were even. If he happened to show up tonight, she’d ignore him and get on with enjoying herself.
All good in theory, but when she did see him, his silk burgundy shirt and black suit combo was hard to ignore. It seemed to work to highlight the colour of his skin and his dark, melting eyes, to the point she was getting annoyed with herself for ogling.
After all, she’d worked all hours planning this party, from the reindeer ice sculptures set in the window archways, to the band. She’d even sourced the gourmet chef and approved the finger hors d’oeuvres being served, and she planned to take full advantage of every last inch of it. She’d started the evening by stuffing her bag with enough grub to see her through the weekend, making sure to take the least odorous items.
Despite the worry that he was going to try something to ruin her night, the guy just mingled with both men and women, striking up the longest conversation with a short, overweight and balding man whose face was so red and sweaty, she worried he had an ulcer churning under his spare tires.
And she really needed to pay attention to what the girl next to her was blabbering on about, not to what Mr Perfect was doing.
‘So that’s how I got into advertising. What about you?’ the girl asked.
Er, what did she just say? Right. Why we’re here. ‘I love temping, it’s a great way to try new things but I don’t really want to get into advertising …’ That would just be too hard a conversation to carry, even with a girl who looked no older than an intern.
‘But aren’t you worried? I mean, people usually pick what they want to do in their twenties, they don’t wait until they’re old.’
She was in her bloody twenties! There were still two whole years before she hit the big three-oh. ‘I still am.’
The intern got
