Catching The Corporate Playboy

The first issue after the sale announcement currently ran on the presses, and that meant everything was falling into place. People were calming down, adapting to the changes, and returning to normal now that the dust had settled.

Running a publications conglomerate was what Cameron did, and he was good at it. He’d know when it was time to settle down and marry, and right now was not that time. Sure, kids were cute, but other people’s kids could be returned to their parents. He shuddered a bit. No, he wasn’t ready for a wife or baby drool.

“Aren’t you going to eat that?” Lee pointed to Cameron’s plate. Lee’s own plate appeared licked clean.

Cameron grimaced at the thought of how Lee’s stomach must feel. “Are you sure you didn’t miss some?”

“Yep. Like Ted Drewes concretes, this is late-night tradition. Some of us are always here each week after the presses run. I can’t believe you didn’t at least try it.”

“I’m only going to be here two weeks. I’ll pass on St. Louis’s traditions. What’s a concrete?”

“Ye of little faith. Why do you think Bob Costas lives here? This is a great city. Find yourself the right girl and you’ll never want to leave. And a concrete is a type of ice cream that stays in the cup if you turn it upside down.”

“That’s it? That’s what you gave up when you rejected the big-city job I offered you? I think I’ll keep my hotel suite for two weeks, thank you, and then I’m going home.”

“Man, you’ve been cloistered too long. You really need to get out and experience life.”

“What? To this?” Cameron bristled and gestured around. Not another one trying to get him married. And now it was his best friend. “Please. Give anyone in here a chance to live in my world and they’d snap it up. Why do you think lottery tickets sell so well?”

“So it’s not ingrained?” One of Lee’s eyebrows arched.

Cameron lifted the spoon and held the brown substance up to his nose. He could smell the overpowering odor of garlic. “You really are brain-dead. What are you talking about? What’s not ingrained?”

“Your New York snobbery. Your aloofness and disdain.”

“Of course not.” Cameron tentatively held the bite to his lips. As much as he didn’t want to, he needed to eat the stuff or forever live with the consequences of Lee calling him a chicken, afraid to try new things. Lee would never let Cameron live this down if he didn’t try it. The orange-tinged grease pooled around the edges of the spoon. With a shudder he said, “I bet I could make anyone fit into my world.”

“A bet.” Lee’s eyes gleamed at the challenge Cameron had just unknowingly tossed out. “Sort of like My Fair Lady?”

Cameron thought a moment and tried to remember the movie. He caught the spoon before it dripped. He shrugged. “I guess. I’ve never seen it.”

“Now I know you need a life. Julie and I watched it one Sunday afternoon.”

That just about summed up who needed a life, in Cameron’s opinion, but he kept his thoughts to himself. Lee had only been married two years, so Cameron guessed his friend was still in the honeymoon phase. “So what’s it about? Isn’t it a musical of some sort?”

“And from you who sees all the Broadway shows.”

“Women like them, and I like women. It’s a small price to pay.”

Lee groaned. “In a nutshell, a man takes a beggar woman off the streets and turns her into the cream of society. You’re saying you could do that? You could make some woman acceptable?”

Cameron did some quick thinking. There was that redhead, oh, what was her name again? She’d gotten a modeling contract after being photographed at a charity ball with him. That counted, right? She’d now made quite a name for herself.

Oh well. Cameron shrugged. He wasn’t going to let Lee best him in this challenge. It was bad enough he had to eat the stuff congealing in front of him. “Sure I could do it. I could make her fit right in. It’s easy. The right clothes and makeup and anyone can pretend to be rich. I see enough of the hangers-on all the time as they try to snare a rich guy.”

He ignored Lee’s arched eyebrow and closed his mouth over the spoon. Despite the fact the weird mixture was now cold, the hot sauce instantly hit his tastebuds. Chili and eggs assaulted him, bounced along his tongue and fired their way down his throat. Wow. “Hey, this stuff isn’t half-bad.”

Lee tossed his hands up in the air. “The man’s a rocket scientist.”

“I think I will fire you just for the hell of it. You’ll go from big-city editor to the breadline. Maybe then you’d learn some respect for your superiors.” Cameron took another bite, understanding now why the concoction was called pellers. It just shot its way down the throat.

Lee didn’t look scared, more like amused. “Ha. You wouldn’t dare. I’ll send Julie after you. She’s pregnant you know.”

Cameron groaned, doing the manly thing of hiding his happiness for his friend. “Great. Another pregnant woman. You win.”

“I’m planning on it.” Lee shot him a satisfied smile that told Cameron he was in trouble. “Shall we discuss the terms?”

Cameron’s stomach plummeted. From Lee’s tone, and the history between the two men, he knew his friend wasn’t referring to Julie’s baby.

“Let’s see,” Lee mused aloud. “What shall we say? One thousand this time? Oh, and a really nice baby gift for my wife. Maybe one of those really expensive strollers that the rich and famous have. You live in New York. I’m sure you could find out what they are.”

Darn, Cameron thought. No way to back out now. Of course, how many of their bets had he actually lost? Not many. He was ahead on Lee probably five to one. “You’re cocky. My new purchase must be paying you too much if you can afford losing this big. What are the terms?”

“I want you to turn the person of my choosing into the cream of society. And I don’t just mean dressing her up in fancy clothes or working on her speech. It’ll be like Pretty Woman and My Fair Lady all rolled into one.”

Cameron couldn’t miss the opportunity to jerk Lee’s chain. “You’re hiring me a hooker? What will Julie think?”

“Get the concierge in that fancy hotel of yours to find the My Fair Lady video. Sit down and watch it. And no, you aren’t getting a hooker. I’ll pick someone that I feel is suitable.”

“Will she still look like Julia Roberts?”

“One day I’m going to have to teach you how to settle things out back.”

With well-manicured fingers, Cameron thumbed his empty glass. His mouth still burned from the fiery concoction, and now even the ice in his glass was gone. “The service in this place is unreal. Where did she go anyway?”

“So are we agreed?”

Cameron scanned the room for their terrible waitress. “Yeah, why not? You’re gonna lose, you know. Just do me a favor and don’t get me a real dog.”

Lee looked extremely smug. “Oh, don’t worry.”

Right. Cameron had heard that enough times. Even the flour bomb Lee had insisted they make in college had backfired. They’d been the ones doused in white powder, not the annoying people on the balcony of the apartment above.

Cameron stilled his tapping finger. “So how will I know I’ve succeeded?”

“She passes two tests.”

Because of Lee’s now very wide grin, Cameron immediately became wary. Suspicion laced his tone. “What are they?”

“She spends a week in New York, with you and everything it entails. The society pages, the whole works. If she can retain her poise through that, well, she passes the first test. But she has to stay for the full week. No less.”

Cameron shrugged. “Easy enough. What’s the other one?”

“The ultimate test,” Lee paused for dramatic effect, “will be your father and your sister. They have to adore her, and you know how difficult that is.”

Cameron’s gut clenched. He hoped it was from eating Grandpa Joe’s food. He steadied his voice and tried to appear nonchalant at Lee’s upping of the stakes. “Yeah, right, Lee. As if they’d be a good litmus test. Despite their wish to see me wed, they run off anyone unsuitable. If I bring someone suitable home they’ll book the church before I even get in the door.”

“You don’t have to marry her, just prove her suitable. Then just subtly tell her it’s over.”

Cameron shrugged; bravado returned. He could do that. He was an expert at worming his way gracefully out of entanglements. He’d been doing it for years.

“Refill?”

Hearing the female voice, Cameron jumped and his head shot around. How long had the waitress been standing there? He gaped at her. There she stood, frowning at him. Was that venom in her blue eyes? She certainly disapproved of something.

He bristled at her vicious glare. What had he ever done to her? He couldn’t help it that she looked as if she could have stepped right out of a fifties diner. A white frilly apron covered her candy-pink dress. Of course, both were splattered with grease.

Still, he had to admit the overall effect was interesting, especially the way her bosom peeked over the scooped neckline. In this case less was more. She had another point in her favor. He blinked, finding himself rather surprised that he’d been checking her out.

And she sure didn’t look too pleased to be standing next to him.

He gave her his trademark grin, the one that melted hearts for miles. Her expression didn’t change; in fact, she now appeared even more ticked off. Sensing Lee’s glee at his obvious failure to charm the waitress, Cameron decided to try again. He couldn’t let this situation end in failure unless he wanted to give Lee more ammunition to use at a future date.

Just what did the locals call soda in St. Louis? People in Indiana and Michigan called it pop, while people in the southern states called everything Coke and then specified what flavor. He stuck with the Midwest guess. “I’d like more pop.”

By the look on her face, he’d guessed wrong.

“Pop? In St. Louis it’s called soda.” She reached forward and grabbed his glass. Cameron had the direct impression that she now thought him some sort of a country bumpkin. “I’ll be right back with a refill of soda.” She emphasized the last word and walked off, having still not cleared away the pile of napkins.

“Of all the insolent…” Cameron began, but he stopped upon seeing the laugh lines etching Lee’s face.

“I think I’ve found your girl.”

Cameron bristled, and his knuckles whitened. “Absolutely not. I’m not taking some girl from a diner, who can’t even get a decent job, and making her into a pillar of society.”

Lee grinned. “Yeah, I think you are. She’s absolutely perfect.”

Cameron turned, studying the waitress behind the counter. She looked up from the soda machine and sent him a hostile glare. He shuddered and turned back to face Lee.

“Julie’s going to love the stroller,” was all his friend said.

Chapter Two

“Ugh!” Darci jerked her hand back as soda cascaded over the edge of the cup. “Of all the snobby jerks.”

“Calm down, girl. It’s only a glass.”

Darci wiped up the cola mess on the counter. “I wasn’t talking about the machine, Val. I meant that guy over there. Do you see him?” She pressed on, not waiting for the older woman to take a peek. “Do you know who he is? He’s Cameron O’Brien. You know, the one who just bought the Monitor?”

Val was unabashed in her stare. “Ooh. Look at that blond hair. And those forearms. Yum. Hey, wasn’t he named one of America’s Most Eligible Bachelors?”

Darci gritted her teeth. “I don’t know. Was he?”

“You should know. It was that magazine with all those beautiful bachelors. You bought it yesterday ’cuz the sexy firefighter was in it.”

“Oh, all right. So he’s good-looking. But he’s a snob with no redeemable qualities. You should hear what they’re talking about. They’re taking some poor girl and making her into a society brat. Like in My Fair Lady.”

“I’d be his fair lady.”

Darci wanted to pull her hair out, but that would mean removing her cap, a violation of Grandpa Joe’s sanitation policy. She again reminded herself she loved Grandpa Joe. “I can’t believe you, Val!”

“Oh, come on. I’ve been married for forty-five years, but I ain’t dead. I get to look.”

“You’re no help. Think of that poor girl!”

“Child, you’ve got to learn not to worry about those things that don’t affect you. Now go serve that hunk of man his soda. He’s thirsty, and you’re wearing it.”

Darci looked down in dismay. Cola-brown had destroyed the last hope of her semi-white apron. “Great.” Because of Cameron O’Brien and her grandfather’s sexism, she’d now need to assault her nose with the smell of bleach. She hoped that at least would get her uniform clean.

With an angry jolt she placed the offending glass of soda on a tray and headed back to serve the hotshot Cameron O’Brien. He’d be lucky if she didn’t dump it on his head.

CAMERON WATCHED HER walk toward him. She’d even had trouble pouring his soda. And yes, Miss Waitress-from-Hell, they did call it soda in New York City.

Whatever. It was either Pepsi or Coke. He’d never been one to tell the difference or care. And St. Louis, in his opinion, was still a cow town. Even more so now that he’d met firsthand a product who’d probably grown up drinking the water.

“No, I think she’s perfect,” Lee said. “I saw her name tag. It’s Darci.”

“Darci,” Cameron repeated, damning his fate. “Sounds flighty to me.”

“Yeah, well, you have to admit she’s not a dog.”

“No, that she isn’t.” He could at least admit that without losing ground to his friend. Besides her legs, Darci’s backside held promise. Her face was a mite bit plain, but makeup would help that.

And Cameron could tell that her body was in shape. That was a big plus. A good salon would do wonders with her hair and her face. Hell, they did makeovers on those talk shows all the time.

“One soda.” Darci made a point of setting the drink down in front of him. Blue eyes with a rim of dark blue glared at him. “Finished?”

Cameron glanced at his plate. After a few bites he’d stopped eating the fiery concoction. “You can take it. Lee?”

“I’m done. So, Darci, are you from St. Louis?”

“I am,” she replied in a tone that said she didn’t favor any further questions.

She shot Cameron a nasty look as she placed the plates on the tray. She didn’t even attempt to hide her annoyance. “You didn’t like it?”

“I’m not hungry.” He offered her a smile, but she didn’t even appear to see it.

She tossed her head. “Your loss.”

No, the tip would be her loss, Cameron thought, trying to gain some satisfaction from this irritating situation. Then he checked his negative thoughts. He had to make this abrasive woman the cream of society, and worse, make his father and his sister think she was the cat’s meow. And all without telling her. That, according to Lee after they’d discussed the bet further, would have been too easy.

“So, you live here, Darci?” Cameron began with his best charm, but she’d already moved off, the plates in her hands.

He turned back to see Lee laughing. His friend gestured, and made a sound like an airplane crashing and burning. For a moment Cameron felt every bit of his thirty-four years.

“You know, Cameron, this is going to be great. She’s perfect. Absolutely perfect. Come on, let’s pay our bill. You can come back tomorrow once you figure out what you’re going to do. I sure hope you’ve got some ideas. You’re going to need them.”

Cameron’s vexation mounted as Lee had the audacity to whistle all the way to the cashier. Cameron snagged the bill from Lee’s outstretched fingers. “My treat.”

“Everything fine?” The older woman in front of him smiled. Her bright-red hair clashed with the pink cap on her head.

Cameron read her name tag. “Everything was fine, Val.”

He felt her green eyes size him up. “That’s good. You’re Mr. O’Brien, right?”

After having his picture splashed all over the local St. Louis papers, her question didn’t faze him. “Yes, I bought the Monitor.”

“I like that paper,” Val said as she handed him his change. “Now don’t forget to give Darci a good tip. It’s only her third day.”

“I’ll be sure to do that.” He walked back over to the table. Only her third day. That figured. He wondered how old she was. Early twenty-something, he’d wager. She looked a lot younger than his sister did, and Kit turned thirty in a few months.

He dropped a fifty-dollar bill on the table. That ought to soften her up. He’d prefer to give Darci his two cents worth instead, but that would have to wait. No, he had lots of other tips for her, and she’d get those life lessons soon enough. And then he’d get the satisfaction of besting Lee once again.

It had better be worth it.

As he turned from the table he caught her staring at him. She boldly held his gaze for a moment before turning around.

Her haughty action surprised him. Tip number one, Cameron thought as he strode out the door. Don’t bite the hand that feeds you.

DARCI SLAMMED the dishes down on the counter. The nerve! The gall! Didn’t they know she had ears and that she had heard every word of their insulting conversation? Were they that stupid?

She drew a breath and counted to ten before exhaling again. Of course they were. They were men. If men were smart she wouldn’t be propelling pellers in front of drunks and second-shift employees. No, she’d be sitting in a corporate office at Jacobsen Enterprises doing a job that required her MBA and her brain.

Of all the nerve. Of all the gall. Just who did Cameron O’Brien think he was? He’d made a bet with his friend, and it involved her! He didn’t even know her! Didn’t he know people had feelings?

And the look on his face when he walked out. Well, she didn’t care if he thought he was God. What gave him the right to think that she, Darlene Cecelia Sanders, was a lowlife because she worked in a diner? What gave him the right to judge her on her appearance and think that he could turn her into a member of society? Why would she want to meet his father and sister anyway? She’d been to New York once, and she didn’t like it.

“Darci, I cleared your table. Those hot guys gave you a fifty-dollar tip.” Wanda held the money out to Darci.

Cameron O’Brien had left her fifty dollars. Anger filled Darci. As if she could be bought. She had a million-dollar trust fund. He thought her so pathetic he’d left her fifty dollars.

Well, she didn’t need his money. But Wanda did. The single mom struggled to make ends meet by working two jobs. “You take it, Wanda.”

Wanda’s mouth fell open. “It’s a fifty-dollar tip, Darci.”

Darci retrenched for a moment. No one working in the diner, with the exception of Val, knew she was Joe Jacobsen’s granddaughter. While they might suspect she was a disowned heiress because of her Porsche, no one knew the truth.

Darci attempted to convince Wanda to take the money. “Seriously, Wanda. The guy was a jerk and treated me like a tramp. It’s a matter of principle. Besides, I won some money in the lottery.”

The last part was a stretch, but if being born counted as a lottery then Darci figured she’d won by being a member of the rich Jacobsen family. She just hoped Wanda didn’t ask, “Then whatcha doin here?”

But Wanda still appeared stunned as she shoved the cash into her pocket. “Gee, thanks, Darci. I need to renew my license plates and this will really help.”

“No problem,” Darci said. She glanced at the clock. Only one more hour before quitting time. Sighing, she reached for the plates being shoved out from the kitchen.

After serving the order she returned behind the counter. “Wanda told me what you did,” Val said.

“I wasn’t taking his money,” Darci snapped. “I’d give Wanda all my tips if she’d take them.”

“Nah. She’s no charity case, that girl. But when I told him to give you a good tip I didn’t think you’d get one that good.”

Darci’s anger flared. She blew out her breath. “Do you know why? He’s trying to butter me up! You know that bet he made? His friend picked me! Me!”

Val’s mouth puckered. “You get to be his fair lady? Ooh.”

Darci paced a little. “No way. Who does he think he is? God? He wants to make me a member of society? Well, the joke’s going to be on him. I’m not playing. Then there’s no way he can win his stupid bet.”

Val made a clucking noise and Darci whirled to face her. “Girl, you need to hop on the clue train. If you don’t play he’ll just get someone else. You want to make him pay? You need to play.”

Darci gritted her teeth. Darn. “I hadn’t thought of that.”

What Val said was true. Cameron O’Brien didn’t have a clue who she really was. He didn’t know she had grown up with dance lessons, etiquette lessons, garden parties, and that she had earned two degrees from Harvard.

No, he was just like those boys in high school. Mr. Super Stud O’Brien was the one needing to be moved down a peg or two. Determination flashed in her eyes.

“You’re absolutely right, Val. Cameron O’Brien needs some comeuppance and I’m going to deliver it, right over his playboy head.”

“That’s the spirit. Then I get to look at him again. He sure is fine.”

“Oh, please. He’s a pig.” Exactly like those guys in her senior year of high school. That humiliating incident would never go away, so permanently was it etched in her memory.

She gazed at her hands, finding she’d clenched them in determination. Fury still filled her. No, Mr. I’m-More-Beautiful-than-God O’Brien had a think coming if he thought he was going to win this bet. The only person who was going to win this time around was Darci. Watching Mr. Super Snob lose would not only make her day, but if she played her cards right maybe she could finally get rid of her personal demons once and for all.

Well, that and finishing this greasy job at Grandpa Joe’s Good Eats. She’d had just about enough of people not thinking she was qualified and that she had to prove herself.

The issue thus resolved, she thrust her chin forward in determination. She moved out of Wanda’s way and turned around to walk out from behind the counter.

She gasped and caught herself before she crashed into him. She now stood nose-to-nose with Cameron O’Brien.

AFTER WALKING with Lee to their respective cars, Cameron had changed his mind about returning to the hotel. Heck, the sun would be up in only about another hour or so, and therefore he might as well watch it rise over the Muddy Mississippi.

So, after Lee had pulled out and driven away, Cameron had closed the door on the rental Mercedes convertible, and he had walked the short distance back to Grandpa Joe’s Good Eats. Cameron planned to be in St. Louis only two more weeks, so if he intended to win this god-awful bet he’d just been suckered into, he didn’t have a minute to lose.

Darci’s blue eyes blazed. “Don’t you even think about asking for change or telling me you made a mistake,” she snapped.

He chuckled, amused at her defense tactics. She was a spitfire, reminding him of the tabby cat his sister had found near their Long Island summer home. The cat had finally warmed up, but it had taken a while before its claws weren’t the first things out every time someone approached.

“Steady,” he said, stepping back slightly to give her space. “I’m not here for change. I knew what bill I put down on the table.”

She eyed him suspiciously and jutted her cute chin. “Health complaints go to Val, not that we’ve ever had any.”

“I’m not here to complain.” He tried his endearing smile again, the one society pages had made famous, but she just clenched her jaw. Stubborn little thing, he thought.

Now that he was even closer to her he could tell her eyes had pale blue lines moving from the iris to the outer rim. Almost like starbursts. Wow. Her eyes were beautiful.

“So why are you back? Did you just want to stare at me, or do you actually really need something?”

He blinked. Had he been staring? “Sorry. I came back because, because…” Now, after stepping inside the restaurant again, this didn’t seem like a good idea after all. Never before had he ever had to pursue a woman. And he definitely wouldn’t have pursued one who radiated the impression that she thought him less than dirt.