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The wrong Mr. Wright keeps showing up!
Lauren Brown has had it with being a “gal pal,” and she’s taking matters into her own hands. Slinky black lingerie and a complete makeover ought to wake up the apparently oblivious Jeff Wright to the fact that she’s really a femme fatale. Her seduction is a runaway success. But there’s one little problem—she arouses Jeff’s identical twin instead!
Dangerously attractive, Justin Wright is best known for his revolving-door relationships and uncanny ability to annoy Lauren, which he does every day as her overbearing boss.
Unfortunately, Lauren isn’t sure how to handle things when the wrong Mr. Wright turns up again—next to her Christmas tree with a tag that reads “Open me first.”
“You’re such a pal, Lauren.”
A pal. She was a pal. P-A-L, which could stand for Pitiful Always Around.
Lauren controlled the sudden raw anger that consumed her. The man in front of her probably didn’t even have a clue that she was interested in advancing their relationship. She was like a properly functioning computer—taken for granted and low maintenance.
At twenty-eight she didn’t want to be a pal any longer. She wanted to be the girlfriend. Wanted to be the hot sexy one he couldn’t refuse or resist. While her biological clock wasn’t exactly ticking—okay, maybe a little—she did want the whole shebang: marriage, career and family.
She’d waited long enough for Mr. Secure and Safe to notice her. She’d have to be the one to make a move….
www.millsandboon.co.uk
In first grade Michele Dunaway knew she wanted to be a teacher when she grew up, and by second grade she knew she wanted to be an author. By third grade she was determined to be both, and before her high school class reunion, she’d succeeded. In addition to writing romance, Michele is a nationally recognized, award-winning English and journalism educator who also advises the yearbook, newspaper and student website at her school. Born and raised in a west county suburb of St. Louis, Missouri, Michele has traveled extensively, with the cities and places she’s visited often becoming settings for her stories. Described as a woman who does too much but who doesn’t ever want to stop, Michele gardens five acres in her spare time and shares her home with two tween daughters and eight cats that rule the roost.
To all my friends at Harlequin.com,
and to Trish Gazall, Ken Williams and Vic Porcelli
at FM 101.1 The River. Thanks.
And always, to Jon for believing in me.
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 1
Justin Wright was Scrooge.
Not that he looked anything like good old Ebenezer. He was too young and too good-looking for that. “Hot,” some misguided temp had called him. But that didn’t stop the modern-day tightwad from frowning, leaning over the conference table and saying to Lauren Brown, current object of his wrath, “You know, in all my time in this company, this has to be the dumbest way to spend money that I’ve ever heard.”
Lauren twirled the red-and-white candy-cane pen between her fingers, but the motion did little to calm her or fill her with any of her usual boisterous Christmas spirit. It did, however, keep her from reaching across and strangling the annoying, self-centered Justin Wright. At this moment, the fact that he was her boss was irrelevant.
He tapped his fingers on the table, creating an annoying staccato. “You know, Lauren, the more I think about it, the more I have to disagree. That idea is a waste of money. My company’s. We hired you for this?”
Justin Wright squared his chin stubbornly, but Lauren Brown glared right back at him. Her icy brown stare, though, like the rest of her, went totally unnoticed by the man who, unfortunately, looked too much like his gorgeous twin. Lauren tried thinning her lips in displeasure, but that, too, had little impact on her nemesis.
Once again she exhaled slowly in an attempt to rein in her temper. In the six months that she’d been working for Wright Solutions, nothing she’d proposed had been good enough for the high standards of the ultra-picky, master micromanager Justin Wright. She set down the pen lest she use it as a dagger.
“As a matter of fact, you did hire me for this,” she said in a sweet tone that still contained an edge of steel. “You hired me for PR, and that’s exactly what the office Christmas party is. That’s why Jared, president of this company, assigned me the job of hosting it and that’s why we’re having it at a hotel, two weekends from now, on December 18.”
The way Justin’s lips turned down indicated he hadn’t liked her noting that his elder brother was president. “But semiformal to formal? You’ve already got an open bar. What’s wrong with nachos and beer after hours? That’s worked ever since we started this company. Now we’re wining and dining employees with filet mignon and champagne?”
She stared right into his eyes, trying to hold her own against the glittering green. “Yes, we are.”
“Jared shouldn’t have given you free rein.”
She shrugged. “Then it’s lucky for me that he did, isn’t it? Nachos and beer out, filet mignon and champagne in.” She left out the “deal with it,” although from his scowl he’d heard her unspoken challenge. “As president, Jared left me in complete control as long as I don’t overspend my budget, which I haven’t. You don’t need to worry during your interim stay while he’s on his honeymoon.”
Lauren grabbed her candy-cane pen and doodled a small red smiley face before scratching out the happy symbol. If only Jared were back! Unlike Justin, the eldest of the three Wright sons had a vision for the company. Too bad he’d extended his honeymoon by another four weeks. He and his new wife weren’t returning to St. Louis until early in the new year.
Justin’s only vision was girls in tight skirts and fishnet panty hose. Unfortunately, the playboy of the family had endless charm, and with the number of women Lauren had seen flocking around, she knew that he knew it. However, at twenty-eight, Lauren prided herself on the fact that she knew better. She’d known Justin for three years and she was proud that she remained singularly unimpressed and unaffected by anything he did or said.
“You did hear me, didn’t you?”
She blinked and glanced over at him. See how unaffected she was? She hadn’t even heard a word he’d been saying. Knowing Justin, though, she took a stab and gave him a classic PR answer. “I heard you,” Lauren replied, “and I thank you for your opinion.”
She tactfully omitted the word unwelcome, but as if sensing it anyway, Justin narrowed his eyes sharply. Lauren set the merry little pen down. “But as this is my area of expertise, I must respectfully disagree with your assessment of everything.” To avoid Justin’s obvious displeasure, Lauren looked for support to Clint Seaver, her immediate boss and the vice president of Public Relations and Marketing. He had a silly grin on his face, as if watching Justin and Lauren spar was more exciting than the St. Louis Blues hockey games he loved.
“I was hired to make Wright Solutions a prominent player, with growth like that of Microsoft in the 1990s. To do this, Wright Solutions needs to do many things besides the Christmas party. Next year I plan to—”
“Whatever. As you said, Jared gave you control of the Christmas party. Just don’t overspend your budget or you’ll answer to me.” Justin had cut her off as though the conversation had suddenly become irrelevant and now bored him. Lauren’s jaw dropped at his boorishness, though she quickly recovered and closed her mouth. Never had the despicable Mr. Wright been this rude.
This time, though, he didn’t look at her again or explain his actions. He glanced at his watch and turned his attention to Clint. “It’s your budget for next year, Clint. If you think including the projects Lauren is about to tell me about—again—is the way to go, fine. Let her run with them. I’ll expect a full report on my desk in two weeks regarding your plans for the new year. Before I go, are we still on for poker tonight?”
Clint grinned, the grin of someone secure about being in the inner circle, the grin of someone who had been friends with the three Wright brothers ever since high school. “Me miss a Friday-night poker bash? Never. We’re definitely on. My place tonight.”
“Super. I’ll see you at seven.” With that, Justin Wright stood and, without another word or glance in Lauren’s direction, left the conference room.
Good riddance, Lauren thought as he disappeared from sight. Never had she met a man so temperamentally different from his brothers.
Justin’s elder brother, Jared, was kind and gentle, yet steely and strong. Justin’s twin, Jeff, was puppy-dog adorable, the type of guy that a girl just wanted to hug and take care of. He was safe, predictable, the kind of man a girl looked for after being burned once too often by Mr. Wrong. It didn’t hurt that he wasn’t bad looking, either. Not as hot or handsome as his twin brother—few men were like Justin Wright—but Jeff was near enough. And he didn’t have Justin’s attitude, which made Jeff a much better catch.
Lauren knew how safe and wonderful Jeff was because she had lived next to him for the past three years. Her condo shared a wall with Jeff’s and he’d been the one to tell her about the new position at Wright Solutions that his twin had reluctantly created.
Of course, if from the beginning Lauren had realized she would be working this closely with the condescending womanizer, she might not have even considered the job. She picked up her pad of paper, her candy-cane pen and, after everyone else preceded her, left the conference room.
Oh, who was she kidding? Even she had to admit that despite Justin Wright, this job was perfect for her talents and her media communications degree from Webster University.
Instead of being one of twenty PR specialists doing mindless press releases and endless corporate brochures the way she had been at Simons and Simmons Public Relations, here at Wright Solutions she had the chance to really make a difference. She was a hometown girl and she could grow with a hometown company.
Clint aside, Lauren was the PR department, and the future and her private stock options had an unlimited ceiling. And then there was the best perk of all—working with Jeff Wright, man of her dreams. Jeff was the company’s first responder to any computer or software crisis. She made a quick stop in the copy room, picked up a stack of file folders and walked to her small office, with its lovely view of the parking lot and the building next door.
Speak of the devil.
“So how’d it go?” Jeff leaned against her doorjamb. He and Justin were easy to tell apart once you got to know them: Jeff had a softer face, different from the harder edged face that made girls swoon over his twin. Jeff’s chin rounded more than Justin’s more square one, and Jeff’s Roman nose was crooked from being broken in a long-ago hockey game. Although they both had green eyes, Justin’s were a dark emerald shade, whereas Jeff’s were the color of light green cellophane.
Lauren flashed Jeff her best dazzling smile. “Great.”
“Super,” Jeff said. He didn’t notice or mention her fitted red Christmas sweater, which she’d worn just for him. “Hopefully, it wasn’t too bad. Justin really is taking this running-the-show stuff seriously while Jared’s gone. Hey, I’m going to be working late tonight and I need a favor. Could you iron my blue pinstripe?”
Lauren’s gut clenched, but she covered her reaction by simply raising an eyebrow. “Have a date?”
Jeff grinned and Lauren’s heart softened. She recognized that grin. “Sort of. Tomorrow night’s Mom’s birthday. We’re taking her out to Tony’s to celebrate.”
“All of you? Tony’s is fancy. Suit coat, tie—the works. You’re sure?”
Jeff nodded. “Yeah, well, it is for Mom. And it’ll be all of us except for Jared. You know, I don’t get my older brother. Who would go on a honeymoon for a month and then extend it by another four weeks?”
“I would if I found the right man,” Lauren said. “Sun, surf and…” She left the word sex unsaid.
Jeff arched a strawberry-blond eyebrow at her. In Lauren’s opinion, Jeff had the most handsome shade of red hair—not too red, nor too orangy blond. It was simply perfect. With his twinkling green eyes, he’d won a St. Patrick’s Day “dress as a leprechaun” contest once. That Justin’s hair was the same gorgeous color was irrelevant.
“Yeah, I guess you girls would want to keep a guy out of commission that long. It wouldn’t be so bad if I could bring my laptop, but Jared doesn’t even turn his on every day. Like I said, I just don’t get him.” Jeff shrugged his broad shoulders for emphasis, indicating exactly how foolish he thought his madly-in-love elder brother was.
“Anyway, just grab the shirt—you know the one—out of my closet. I’ve got some software to finish writing and I doubt I’ll even make it home until well past midnight.”
Lauren adored that Jeff was such a committed computer geek. Not that he looked or acted like it, but given a choice of dating or programming, the computer won hands down every time. Jeff always maintained that computers were a lot simpler to deal with than women. Justin, however, was the opposite.
“Want me to leave you some dinner?” she asked. “Something to microwave? I’ll put it in your refrigerator when I return your shirt.”
Jeff gave her an appreciative smile. “That would be great. You know I always forget to eat when I get caught up in work. What would I do without you? You’re such a pal, Lauren.” He shifted, and she could tell he itched to return to his computer and the program he was writing. “I’ll catch you later, okay?”
“Sure,” Lauren said. She watched a whistling Jeff walk away until he disappeared around a corner. Unlike his annoying brother, Jeff Wright was a dream. In the past three years, he’d become her best friend. They talked constantly and shared things like chores and food. She sighed suddenly and plucked a fuzzy piece of red lint off her sweater. Everyone in the office said red was her color, but Jeff hadn’t even noticed.
She frowned as a sense of disquiet came over her. After three years, one would have expected a little more from their relationship. It should have changed somehow, some way. They were friends; they got along great; they’d each been burned once or twice. That made them perfect for each other—they’d have the kind of relationship based on mutual respect, with some love and attention thrown in.
Except that the love and attention were still sadly lacking.
Right then and there she decided that Jeff Wright needed to notice her, really notice her. Couldn’t he see how perfect they’d be together?
But then, Jeff Wright was often a man with blinders on. When he focused on a computer problem he could be so one-tracked that he would forget to eat. Not once, though, had he made any type of move on her. He’d always treated her chivalrously, as if she was a treasured friend. His cryptic words suddenly resounded in her ears: “You’re such a pal, Lauren.”
A pal. She was a pal. P-A-L, which could stand for Pitiful Always-Around Lauren. Lauren controlled the sudden raw anger that consumed her. Jeff probably didn’t even have a clue that she was interested in taking their relationship further. She was like a properly functioning computer—taken for granted and low maintenance.
At twenty-eight, she didn’t want to be Jeff’s pal any longer. She wanted to be the girlfriend! Wanted to be the hot sexy one he couldn’t refuse or resist. While her biological clock wasn’t exactly ticking—okay, maybe a little—she did want the whole shebang: marriage, career and family.
She wanted Jeff Wright. She didn’t know if they’d have any chemistry, but who cared? She’d been there, done that. Passion flared and burned out. It was stability she craved now in a twosome, and that was Jeff. She’d waited long enough for Mr. Secure and Safe to notice her. She’d have to be the one to make a move.
“Do you always hang out in doorways?” Justin Wright appeared in the hall between her office and the cubicles in the center of the building; a dubious look on his face. Just how long had he been there? He glanced upward as he inched toward the opposite wall. “Well, not that. I don’t see any mistletoe.”
Did he think she was that desperate? “I’m being creative,” she retorted—the first reply that came to her lips. “And, yes, you pay me for that.” She heard him laugh as she entered her office and shut the door behind her decisively.
Lauren tossed the file folders onto her desk. The candy-cane pen fell to the floor. Jeff’s words again rang in her ears, this time louder than the church bells on Christmas morning. You’re a pal, Lauren. A pal.
Oh, how she hated that phrase. Just how many times had she heard those exact words or their variation in the years since high school? How many times had she been told, “You’re a great friend, Lauren, but I just don’t want you the way I want—” Every guy said the same thing; the only thing that changed was the girl’s name. And the one man who hadn’t—he was still a lesson in heartache that she never wanted to repeat.
Lauren stomped her foot with newfound determination. She sat down in her overstuffed desk chair and reached into the desk drawer. Her fingers fished in her purse for the mirror she knew she had but rarely used. Moving it at various angles, she took stock of herself. Brown hair. Brown eyes. Boring makeup. Practical business attire except for the red sweater. All told, nothing to write home about. The woman she could only see in bits and pieces in the looking glass was not a girl for a guy to get excited about.
And to hook Jeff Wright, she had to get him excited. She’d seen him with a few bimbos over the years. The relationships never lasted long, maybe a week or two before his interest waned or they tired of his job coming first.
Most of his women had one thing in common: they were blond. Insight hit her. Maybe that was what she needed. Hair color. Tweezed eyebrows. Pouty red lips. Those things certainly couldn’t hurt. Beauty and brains in one sexy, irresistible package. Perhaps if she just spiced up the package—like spicing up a résumé or making a computer run faster—she could catch Jeff Wright.
The Yellow Pages thumped open as Lauren flipped to the beauty parlor listings. She ran her finger down the black print, her gaze searching for the day-spa salon that did all those makeovers for the local news channel. The door to her office opened.
Lauren’s head shot up and she quickly closed the phone book, keeping her arm inside it to hold her place. In this position she was bent over at an ungodly angle, her right hip jutting out. “Yes?”
“You seemed upset about something earlier,” Justin said as he entered her office. “I thought I’d stop in and see if I’d offended you in some way, or at least more than I usually do. If I did, I want to apologize. I haven’t caught you at a bad time, have I?”
Lauren shifted a little, covering any telltale clues that might reveal her makeover goals. “Uh, no. And no, I’m not upset at all,” Lauren replied. She added a wide smile to make her lie convincing. Hopefully, he’d get a clue and leave. Justin cocked his head. He didn’t look too persuaded and he made no move to go back out the door.
She knew how silly she must appear with her arm stuck in a phone book and her rear end sticking up. Her face flushed as it heated under Justin’s appraising stare. “Um, apology accepted, not that there was a need,” she added to the lie—anything to get him out of her office.
“Did you have anything else?” she asked.
“Yeah,” Justin said slowly. Lauren’s arm started to numb and she again shifted under his intent appraisal. “I’d just realized that I didn’t tell you I had an overseas call scheduled, which is why I left the meeting so abruptly. I didn’t want you to think I was being rude when I cut you off in the conference room today.”
He was worried about being rude? Please. After six months of working with him, it was a little too late for worrying about that. The man defined rude. Lauren struggled to stop herself from laughing at the bitter irony. She managed to keep her tone sarcasm-free as she said, “No problem. Our constant sparring keeps my job interesting. Honestly.”
“If you’re sure.” Justin walked over toward her desk, and Lauren inched the Yellow Pages closer to her body. He frowned. “That’s a great sweater on you. By the way, what are you doing?”
Surely he wasn’t picking this very moment to start being civil by chitchatting with her. “I have an important call to make.” She glanced pointedly at the phone book. “I don’t want to lose my place.”
“Oh.” He tempered his curiosity and gave her a charming smile. Despite her previous imperviousness to him, Lauren flushed more, this time not because she was in an ungraceful position.
No wonder women liked Justin. Even she now had to admit that she wasn’t totally immune to his killer I’ll-melt-that-heart-of-yours grin. Seeing she wasn’t about to elaborate on the details of her phone call, Justin said, “Well, okay, then. I guess I should tell you to have a good weekend and get out of your way.”
Lauren nodded. “You have a good weekend, too.” She watched him leave, and tried to look pleasant when he stopped at the door and turned back around.
“Lauren?” he said.
“Yes?”
“We do have Post-It notes in the supply closet. You know, to hold your place,” he added, and with that he left. She swore she heard him laughing as he closed her door behind him.
She counted to twenty just to make sure he wouldn’t return, and then she sat down and reopened the phone book. She ran her finger down the page and found the number she was looking for. It was time Lauren “before” became Lauren “after,” a femme fatale.
She secured an appointment for Monday, and composed e-mails to Justin and Clint indicating that she was taking a personal day. She frowned as she hit Send. Justin Wright. So different from his brother. He raised every one of her hackles. He had that lethal smile that needed to be outlawed. He…ooh. Jeff was definitely the better of the two men. Definitely.
Satisfaction filled her as she leaned back against the plush leather desk chair. Jeff loved Monday Night Football. They often watched it together, sharing beer and popcorn. But if she had her way—and oh, would she—Jeff Wright wasn’t going to do much football watching this Monday night. Instead, they were going to play. Yes, come December 6, the better of the two men was in for a very big holiday surprise.
Chapter 2
Justin Wright tossed the briefcase down. It landed on his desk with an annoying thump. Mondays should be outlawed, especially Mondays following your mother’s birthday party. “Sylvia!”
“Yes?” His secretary of the past five years poked her head in through the open doorway.
“Where’s Lauren? Didn’t you call for her as I asked you to?”
Familiar with his many moods, Sylvia backed up slightly. “She’s not in today.”
That didn’t sound good. Perhaps he’d misunderstood his secretary. Frustration had him speaking a bit slower. “What do you mean, she’s not in today? Is she late? At a meeting?”
Sylvia inched another step backward as if she were afraid he’d massacre the messenger. “No. She’s not coming in at all. She took a personal day. The details are in her e-mail to you. She sent me a copy. I’m surprised you didn’t see it. Don’t you always check your work e-mails on the weekend?”