Frisky Business Page 6

  “Right. That makes sense.” Marley fidgeted with the notepad in her lap, trying to think of the best way to phrase what she had to say. “Under the circumstances, with you being the president of the board of directors and me—”

  “You’re thinking a June wedding then?”

  “What?”

  He grinned at her. “I’m kidding, Marley. You’re right. Under the circumstances, it would be a terrible conflict of interest for us to make a habit of swapping spit in your kitchen.”

  “Yes, exactly.” Marley bit her lip, wishing like hell she wasn’t disappointed.

  “My kitchen would be a much better place. The counters are a little higher, and if we get the angle just right—”

  “Will!” She smacked him on the shoulder and laughed, enjoying the fizzle of lust that shot through her belly. “I’m trying to be professional here.”

  “And I admire that. You’re right, of course. No more fooling around between the development director and the board chairman.”

  “It’s important to respect company policy,” Marley said. “As a new employee, the last thing I need is a scandal or any sort of disciplinary action.”

  “Relax, Marley. I’m not going to ravage you in the backseat. Or the front seat. Or on the hood. Or—”

  “Thank you,” Marley said, not feeling particularly thankful.

  Will nodded. “So are you worried about be-ribboning the badgers?”

  “Maybe a little,” she said, relieved by the shift in conversation. “It’s my first time handling a donor dinner party that involves wild animals.”

  “Get used to it. You’re more likely to see a porcupine at a Cheez Whiz charity dinner than a tuxedo.”

  “Cheez Whiz,” Marley repeated, smiling a little. “Have you always called it that?”

  “No. I started after new management took over a few years ago and went on a mission to make the place more respectable and classy.”

  “Not a mission you support?”

  “Not when respectable means elitist and classy means boring. I’m not a fan of pretentiousness or false airs. My family has supported the organization for years, and the last thing I want is for it to become a stuffy, hoity place that takes itself so seriously that no one gets to enjoy it.”

  “I see,” Marley said, digesting the information. “I can appreciate that. I’ve worked for a lot of organizations that take themselves too seriously.” She shrugged and looked out the window. “On the other hand, sometimes you have to play the part to get the job done.”

  “Play the part?”

  “Go along with other people’s rules for the greater good of an organization that serves the community.”

  Will was quiet, and Marley turned to see him regarding her curiously. “That’s an interesting perspective,” he said.

  Marley couldn’t tell from his tone if interesting meant interesting, or interesting meant you’re a fruitcake, so she shrugged again. “I’ve been in this business a long time in bigger cities like Portland and Seattle. Things are a little more formal there. Speaking of which, do you have any tips on dress for this evening?”

  Will laughed. “You’re asking me for wardrobe tips?”

  “I guess so.”

  “You’re aware I was wearing bedroom slippers when we met.”

  Marley smiled and fiddled with the door handle. “I’m aware of that.”

  “Bed has strict rules about hosiery, neckties, wearing sunglasses in public, saying bless you when someone sneezes, standing up when a woman enters the room, printing materials for board meetings in fourteen-point type, and using nothing but Riedel stemware to serve wine at board functions.”

  “Oh,” Marley said. “Are Bed’s rules written down somewhere?”

  “No. You just have to wait to get yelled at when you break one.”

  Marley nodded and went back to the topic of clothing. “So for tonight. I assume I’ll be safe in a little black dress and heels, but if everyone’s going to turn up in jeans, I’d like to know in advance.”

  “That’s what I’ll be wearing.” He glanced over at her. “The jeans, not the little black dress.”

  “Really?”

  “Maybe you’re right. I’d look good in a little black dress, and if I had the right heels—”

  Marley laughed. “So will most guests be in jeans?”

  “Dunno.” He took his eyes off the road a moment and studied her. Marley resisted the urge to cross her arms over her chest or ask what he was looking at. She met his gaze and tried not to squirm.

  “You seem awfully worried what people think of you,” he said at last.

  “I beg your pardon?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t mean that as an insult. Just an observation.”

  “Because I care what I wear to my first major fund-raiser?”

  Will shrugged. “And what kind of music you listen to at home. And which college sports team you favor. And whether you play golf with board members. And whether Bed thinks you can give her mauve rabbits. And—”

  “Enough.” Marley swallowed hard, trying to keep her expression impassive. “For your information, a development director needs to be focused on pleasing others. On conforming to their expectations. On learning what makes people tick and using that information to—”

  “So when you drive out here tonight, you want to look for that tree,” Will said, interrupting Marley’s diatribe to thrust an arm in front of her and point at the side of the road. “The big juniper on the left with the orange flag attached. See it?”

  Marley blinked and stared at Will’s arm. Then at the tree. She opened her mouth to say something, but only managed to nod.

  Will grinned and drew his arm back, placing both hands back on the wheel. “I’m a master at avoiding conflict,” he said. “I prefer to do it with inappropriate humor, but I don’t know you well enough yet to make penis jokes.”

  Marley stared at him, shaken by the turn in conversation. “You’re certainly the most irreverent board chairman I’ve ever worked with.”

  “I’ll take that as a compliment. I see it as my civic duty to keep Cheez Whiz from becoming a boring, stuffy organization filled with entitled rich people and overeducated snobs.” He nodded out the window again as he turned off the highway onto a narrow stretch of country road. “Seriously though, this is where you’ll turn tonight. From here, it’s almost exactly six miles, then another right on a gravel road flanked by a wrought iron livestock fence.”

  Marley gave up studying Will and looked at the landscape instead. She scanned acres and acres of pasture, flecked with scrubby sagebrush and gnarled, ancient juniper. The sky was a stunning shade of blue flecked with wispy clouds, and a cluster of red-brown cows dotting a field was the only bright splash of color to be seen.

  “Wow, Bed is way out here in the middle of nowhere.”

  “The family has almost sixty acres,” Will said. “And the best mountain views you can imagine. Don’t miss the sunset tonight.”

  “I’ll try not to.”

  They drove in silence for a while, Marley sneaking glances at Will every now and then. She thought about his words, turning them over in her brain like weird gumballs in a plastic sphere. When she gave that up, she just looked at him. He was still in his suit from the meeting, but he’d ditched the jacket and tie in the backseat and unbuttoned the top of his shirt. His sleeves were rolled up, and he was drumming his fingers on the steering wheel completely out of sync with the Cyndi Lauper song on the stereo. The coppery highlights in his hair were even more noticeable in the sunlight, and from this angle she could only see his green eye.

  “Here we are,” Will announced, jarring Marley out of her thoughts.

  She stared at the house and blinked. “Holy crap.”

  Will laughed and opened his car door. “In a manner of speaking.”

  Marley ha
d seen a lot of huge houses in her line of work, but this place was massive. The architecture was a fascinating mix of Tuscan and Napa, with elaborate stonework and tastefully aged wood. The roof was tile, and the rockwork surrounding the enormous patio was a work of art.

  “Those columns are antique,” Will said, reaching into the backseat and hefting the case of wine in his arms as Marley studied the handcrafted stonework. “Bed imported them from Italy.”

  Marley ran her hand over a subtly dressed stucco wall. “The doors are amazing.”

  “The wood was rescued from an old church in Tuscany.”

  He shifted the case of wine to one hip and knocked on the door twice—two quick raps—and then walked inside without waiting for anyone to answer. Marley hesitated, not sure whether to follow or stand on the porch like an idiot.

  “Are you just going to stand on the porch like an idiot?” Bed yelled from inside the foyer.

  “I was considering it,” Marley said, then marched in.

  The interior of the home was even more impressive, if that was possible. Gorgeous artwork lined the walls, and ornate chandeliers of copper and glass cast pools of golden light on the terra-cotta tile. Marley followed Will through the foyer and into a large room with ornate tile floors and an array of bistro tables covered in mauve and green linen tablecloths.

  “I was thinking here for the rabbit cage,” Bed said as the two of them approached. She pointed to an open area at the center of the room before folding her arms across her chest.

  “Badger cage,” Will corrected, setting the wine down in a corner of the room. “We agreed to the badgers, remember?”

  “Hmmph,” Bed said, but didn’t argue.

  “I agree, this would be a lovely place,” Marley said. “Your guests will be able to admire the animals right when they enter, and the flooring here is much better than carpet would be for… um, well…”

  “Shit,” Will supplied.

  “Right.” Marley cleared her throat. “If you don’t mind, I’m going to snap a few pictures of the surrounding furnishings and take a few measurements?”

  “Knock yourself out,” Bed said. “I’m going to go yell at the caterer.”

  Marley frowned. “Is something wrong with the food?”

  “No, I just feel like yelling at him.”

  Marley nodded and resisted the urge to beat the woman over the head with a statue that looked like a giant penis. She squinted at the statue more closely, trying to figure out what it was supposed to be.

  “It’s not a giant penis,” Will supplied. “The statue. I wasn’t sharing personal information. The statue is supposed to be a mushroom.”

  “Thank you for clarifying.”

  “Don’t mention it.”

  “Would you mind holding the other end of the tape measure?” Marley asked. “For the floor space, not the giant penis.”

  Will grinned. “Thank you for clarifying.”

  They paced off sections of the floor, deciding the best position for the badgers and for the supplementary display of rabbit photos.

  “Is it going to be a problem rounding up bunny photos on short notice?” Will asked.

  “Nope, Darin has it covered. We were just hammering out the details in my office when you came to get me.”

  “Funny, I thought he was asking you out.”

  Marley flushed as she moved the end of the tape to the edge of the wall and squinted at it. “Darin didn’t ask me out.”

  “None of my business. There are no Cheez Whiz rules about dating among staff as long as there’s no supervisory relationship or—”

  “Or a conflict of interest like there would be between the board chairman and the development director?”

  Will grinned. “Exactly. So feel free to go crazy with Darin.”

  “Maybe I will.”

  “I wouldn’t have pegged Darin as your type.”

  “No?” Marley struggled to keep her tone breezy. “What’s my type?”

  Will shrugged and stretched his end of the tape out to the opposite wall. “Tall, dark hair, a lawyer maybe, with a fondness for cognac and sailing.”

  Marley bit her lip. He’d just described her ex-fiancé to a T, but there was no way she’d admit that.

  “Maybe I’m changing my type,” Marley said. “It’s a woman’s prerogative to change her mind. To reinvent herself and develop different desires.”

  “I’m well aware of that,” Will said flatly.

  Marley swallowed hard. Shit.

  She remembered what Susan had told her about Will’s ex-wife coming out of the closet and leaving him for his sister. Talk about changing your type.

  She opened her mouth to apologize, but Will had moved on. “Speaking of penises—”

  “We were speaking of penises?”

  He nodded toward the giant statue in the foyer. “Stay with me here. But I wasn’t talking about Bed’s statue. You’ve had a chance to look at the figurines my Aunt Nancy donated?”

  “Yes. They’re quite remarkable.”

  Will laughed. “That’s one word for it. Those remarkable penises have been in the family for generations. They’re worth quite a bit of money.”

  “Yes, of course. The Cascade Historical Society and Wildlife Sanctuary is very grateful for the donation.”

  “Cheez Whiz.”

  “Right. Very grateful. Obviously we’ll rely on the appraisal to make the final determination about the value of the pieces.”

  “You’re on top of it?”

  Marley stifled a giggle. “I assure you I am quite on top of the antique phallus collection.”

  Will laughed and held his end of the tape measure in a corner of the room. “Looks like penis jokes are well within your comfort zone. Good to know.”

  Marley felt a fizzle of lust snake through her belly and decided to squelch it fast. “Hold the tape right there for a sec.” She jotted the numbers in her notebook before walking back toward Will, winding up the tape as she went. “Thanks for your help.”

  “Don’t mention it. I’m sure Bed will be pleased with your frames and ribbons and whatnot.”

  “I hope so,” Marley said. “It’s my first event for this job. I really want it to go well.”

  “It’ll go well. They always do.”

  “You sound pretty sure of yourself.”

  “I always am.”

  He smiled, and Marley felt her insides turn to a melted pool of chocolate. Will’s mismatched eyes were intent on her face, his smile warm and knowing. Neither of them spoke for a moment, and Marley wasn’t even sure she blinked. She felt his fingers brush hers, and she looked down to see they were both still gripping the tape measure.

  “Thank you,” she said again, and pulled her hand back. She tucked it into her purse right as Bed huffed back into the room.

  “Damn caterer doesn’t know a canapé from a crudité.”

  “It’s so hard to find good help, isn’t it?” Marley asked.

  “Hmmph,” said Bed.

  “I think we’re all set here. The ribbons are going to look beautiful, and I think you’ll be pleased with the color-coordinated frames on the bunny photos. That was a great idea you had.”

  “Damn straight,” Bed said. “Next time, though, I want the mauve bunnies.”

  “We’ll see what we can do,” Marley said, and prayed there wouldn’t be a next time.

  ***

  “I assume your car is back at Cheez Whiz?” Will asked as he headed toward the wildlife sanctuary.

  “It is, thanks. I’ll need to grab it so I can go shopping for frames and ribbons and things before I head back to Bed’s to decorate.”

  “The craft store on Northeast Third will have the best selection of ribbons.” He looked at her. “I’m a little embarrassed those words just came out of my mouth.”

  Marl
ey laughed as Will turned into the parking area. “Thanks again for taking me out there. I never could have found it on my own.”

  “No sweat. So I’ll see you at the party tonight?”

  Marley nodded as she opened the car door and hopped out. “I’m looking forward to the badgers.”

  “Bet you never thought you’d say that about a charity function.”

  Marley grinned and bent down to peer through the window. Will caught a glimpse down the front of her blouse and felt all the blood leave his brain.

  “Thanks again, Will,” she said. “I’ll see you in a few hours.”

  He drove away feeling downright cheerful about that. Then he kicked himself. Hard.

  As the chairman of the board overseeing Cheez Whiz’s financials, Will knew he should be impressed their new fund-raising expert was adept at the sort of sweet talk that made donors open their wallets. Marley had done her job well, schmoozing Bed with promises of ribbons and Photoshopped bunnies. She’d even given Bed credit for the idea.

  All things that should impress you, idiot.

  But as a guy who’d spent four years married to a woman who’d spent longer than that pretending to be something she wasn’t, Will was on edge about Marley’s dual personality. Her willingness to tell people whatever they wanted to hear.

  She’d flat-out admitted she didn’t know if she could deliver the stupid ribbons, the floral arrangements, and the Photoshopped bunnies.

  That’s a good thing, dumbass. Pictures of mauve bunnies would be ridiculous.

  That was true, but he’d watched Marley stand there and say she’d make it happen, knowing full well the Photoshopped bunnies wouldn’t become a reality. It was enough to give Will a tense feeling in his shoulders.

  Or maybe it was just his worry about Aunt Nancy’s donation to Cheez Whiz. The stone figurines—come on, they were rock dildos—had been his aunt’s pride and joy since her late husband bought them for her at an auction of Pacific Northwest artifacts. She was certain they were worth an insane amount of money. Enough to create a popular traveling exhibit that would fund an entire new wing for Cheez Whiz.

  But Will wasn’t so sure.