floor, where the SyncUp office was. He looked at Ellie, then motioned down the counter, meaning he’d give his order to her assistant, so she could keep talking.
“He is so still into you,” Ellie whispered to Candy.
“He is so still mortified by me. And he has a girlfriend, remember?” He’d hooked up with Jane—a coolly sophisticated attorney Ellie dubbed the Ice Princess—shortly after the Incident. He’d probably run to the woman’s arms screaming “sanctuary.”
“Nuh-uh. She broke up with him last week. Which brings me to my point, if you’ll only let me—”
“Really?” Candy’s heart did a stupid hip-hop. “I mean…so? Managers get copies of the PQ2 for sure. When Matt sees my scores, I’m dead. I have to counteract that.”
“Do it in Malibu. That’s my point. Matt will be there. He got the use-it-or-lose-it speech on his unused vacation, so I nabbed him a condo for next week, too. Just down from our beach house, as a matter of fact.”
“Matt will be there? You nabbed him a…? Just down from…oh.” Her heart was still doing that weird frog-jump behind her ribs. “But how will that solve my PQ2 problem?” Transfixed by the idea of Matt on vacation with her at the beach, she couldn’t quite grasp Ellie’s point.
“Bring work with you. Show Matt how dedicated you are.” She gave Candy her patented Ellie’s-on-the-case wink. “Who knows what might happen after that?”
“No way, Ellie. That ship sailed on a sea of margaritas.” Candy wished she’d never let Ellie in on her thing for Matt. Now she simply would not let it go. The only good news was Ellie had sworn not to say a word to her brother about it.
Out of the corner of her eye, Candy saw Matt accept his coffee—Columbian and always black. Without even trying she’d memorized stupid details about the man.
“Tell her she can’t cancel, Sara,” Ellie said. “Who will help me pry your fingers off your laptop and get you onto a surfboard?” Back in the day Sara had been a beach babe.
“Come on. I’m not that bad,” Sara said.
Ellie and Candy spoke in unison. “Oh, yes you are.”
Sara groaned.
Meanwhile, Candy caught sight of Matt heading for the door. At the last second, he glanced back, straight at her, as though he’d felt her stare.
She wiggled her fingers like a moony girl, disgusted with herself. Matt nodded, a funny expression on his face. Was he picturing her in her thong? The thought made her face flame so hot she bet she could stop traffic.
She returned her attention to her friends, fighting for focus. Now where was she? Oh, yeah. “You think I can work at the beach?” A working vacation was so not her. And at the beach of all places. That would be downright torture.
“Work hard, play hard. That’s your philosophy, right?” Ellie said. “Prove it. Do both.”
Could she? She wanted to believe she could. When she’d joked in the break room about how wrong her PQ2 results were, she’d been mortified to notice that no one laughed along. They agreed with the test! And that hurt. It reminded her how her high-achieving family treated her—like a lost soul, a child whom no one took seriously. She hated that. She was determined this promotion would make her family see her through new eyes.
“You’ll be away from the office, alone together. Just you and Matt and all that…work.” Ellie waggled her brows.
Despite Ellie’s ulterior motive, the idea had merit. Away from SyncUp, she and Matt could connect. Professionally, of course. She was better face-to-face anyway. And she had that proposal she’d been working up that she could show him.
She looked into her friends’ hopeful faces. How could she let them down? Ellie needed me-time and Sara needed a break from indentured servitude. Someone had to make sure they got it. And what did Candy need?
Matt’s respect. And maybe more confidence in her own abilities. Maybe this was just the way to get it.
“Okay,” she said finally. “I’m back in.”
“Whew!” Sara lifted her latte in a toast. “Here’s to a week of fun, sun and men in Speedos.”
“And work,” Candy added. “Fun, sun, men in Speedos and work.” The word was a sour note in the song of the moment, but at least she’d be with her friends.
“I have a good feeling about this trip,” Ellie said. “I think it will change our lives.”
Candy had a feeling, too. A funny, nervous one that had to do with seeing Matt in swim trunks. She made a mental note to keep her feet on the ground and her underwear covered.
1
“HOW DID YOU EVER TALK me into this?” Candy asked Ellie as they crossed the last few yards to Matt’s beach house. “Mixing work and play is like chasing a tequila shot with a piña colada—guaranteed puke-fest.”
“Trust me,” Ellie said. “It’ll be fine.”
“And this thing weighs a ton.” She shifted the antique laptop she’d borrowed from the SyncUp IT department to her other shoulder and wiggled her toes in her sandals to relieve the irritation of grinding sand. The beach was meant for bare feet, not shoes, for God’s sake.
“You should have swiped Sara’s computer so she’d have no excuse not to be in a bikini this minute,” Ellie said.
“I can’t believe she sneaked that little printer into her bag.”
“Fighting your nature is not easy,” Ellie said.
“No kidding.” That was as clear to Candy as the Malibu sky overhead, where no cloud troubled the bright blue expanse. Her whole body ached to toss this computer onto the nearest porch, grab a tiki drink and frolic in the foam.
“This will work,” Ellie said again, squeezing Candy’s upper arm. “I know it will.”
Candy blinked against the sunlight glancing off the sparkling water. It was all so tempting—the gently swooshing waves, the kids shrieking as they dashed into the water, the spectacular hunks jogging by—tan and muscular and ready to play.
But this was no time for Candy’s inner girl-gone-wild to lift her pale face to the sun. She had a mission, dammit, and her future at SyncUp hung in the balance.
On the other hand, she’d worn her yellow bikini beneath the white capris and white blouse she’d knotted at her waist, and her straw beach bag held a towel, sunscreen and flip-flops—just in case she squeezed in some beach time. She was prepared to seize whatever pleasure she could out of this trip.
She fished her cell phone out of the tight pocket of her capris to be sure it was on loud ring. Sara was due to fake a work call after they reached Matt’s place.
A big dog wearing a red bandanna galloped up and snuffled Candy’s hand, then back-stepped away, inviting her to toss something—her phone?
“Wish I could, Bucko,” she
