“Yeah. That.” She felt herself weaken, watched his fingers at his waist, thought about how nimble they were. If he would just drop that bedspread, they could get down to business.
No. Control yourself. “Come on,” she said as if he were being ridiculous. “The two of us? I mean, you’re not my type.” That sounded harsh and hurt flickered in his face, so she fixed it. “And I’m not yours, either. Right?”
“Right,” he said stiffly, tightening his fist in the wadded sheet. “Of course. I’ll get dressed.” He turned to go, looking so defeated her heart ached.
Except in bed, she wanted to call after him. In bed, you’re more my type than anyone. Ever. But this was best.
While he showered, she’d make him breakfast and fire up the computer. After that, they’d hit the mall for his makeover. She had a plan and she was sticking with it. Never mind that Matt was naked and wet and soapy…and did his shower have a pulsing nozzle?
While the computer booted, Candy made a pot of Columbian, Matt’s favorite blend. Ellie had bought bagels, cream cheese and lox, so Candy toasted the bagels. The lox had omega-3, which would aid Matt’s brain’s recovery from the alcohol.
Back at the computer, she opened up her files, then located the Web site for the Malibu Country Mart and wrote down the numbers of the hair salon and optician. By the time Matt emerged, she was setting loaded plates beside two steaming mugs of fresh coffee.
“Better?” she asked him.
“A little, I guess.” He looked pale and moved like a recovering accident victim.
“The food should help.” She handed him his coffee, which he sipped tentatively. He looked so good in ordinary Dockers and a short-sleeved plaid shirt that she was ready to shove him against a wall and climb all over him.
Instead, she settled onto a stool beside him to watch him eat while nibbling on her own bagel.
“This is working,” he said after a few bites. “Thanks.”
It was working on her, too. Watching his mouth and fingers move as he ate, remembering where they’d been on her body, made her lose her appetite completely.
She went to wait for him at the computer.
He joined her, sitting on the chair she’d placed close to hers so they could both see the screen. When their thighs touched, she sucked in a breath so sharply she sounded like she’d been stabbed.
“You okay?” he asked, concerned.
“Of course. Sure.” Her reaction embarrassed her.
“So, that last part…of the hangover cure?” He grinned.
Hell, she’d forgotten about the scalp massage. “Sure. Face this way.”
He turned his chair and she scooted so that their legs were interlaced and they were mere inches apart, his breath, smelling of coffee and toothpaste, warm on her skin. She couldn’t stare into his eyes-intense even through the glasses-so she told him to close his eyes. When he did, she slid her fingers into his wet hair and began to squeeze his scalp. “This will stimulate circulation and soothe the nerve endings. You’d be surprised how many there are in your scalp.”
She worked her fingers slowly across his skull, starting at his crown, then working her way to his forehead. With his eyes closed, she was free to study his face, which was smooth and handsome and newly tanned from the volleyball game. That made the laugh lines beside his lips and the crinkles around his eyes more vivid.
“Man, that’s good. It’s like you released rubber bands from my skull.”
“I’m glad you’re enjoying it.” She spied that beauty mark on his cheek and thought about the matching one on his behind. Oh, Matt. Now that she’d slept with him, the temptation was even stronger.
“You sure know your way around a hangover,” Matt said.
That stung. “I’m hardly an expert. I talk to people. I’ve read tips.”
Matt opened his eyes. “That was a compliment, Candy. I meant to say you are a knowledgeable person.”
“If I were that good, I’d have insisted you drink less Tsunami and more club soda.”
“I knew what I was doing, Candy.” He grabbed her gaze. “Every minute.”
“Oh.” The heat in his words shot through her. “Close your eyes,” she demanded.
He did and she focused on her task, moving to his neck to work her fingers along the cords of muscles, digging where muscle met ligament and ligament met bone.
Matt moaned the way he had last night and she went tight all over.
“That’s enough of this,” she said, patting his shoulder. It was all she could bear.
He opened his eyes and smiled. “Thanks. All that’s left is the steel wool between my ears.”
“That’ll take more time.”
“I’m never drinking again,” he said, then held up his hands. “I know, I know. Everyone says that.”
“Just stay clear of Tsunamis, huh?”
“Good advice.”
“Shall we?” She indicated the computer screen before them, her anticipation helping her ignore Matt’s nearness, his smell, the way the sun snagged in his hair and made it gleam.
“So what have you got for me?” Matt said, blinking against the brightness of the screen, poor thing.
In answer, she clicked the lead slide, Ledger Lite Personal, with the artwork she’d had a friend in graphics mock up for her. A second click revealed the tagline: The powerful business solution now perfect for personal use.
“The idea is to pare Ledger Lite to the basic ledger and planning sheets, down-price it and market it for consumers and small business.”
“Interesting,” Matt said. “Small business, you say?”
“Yep. Like I told you, I’ve been talking to Gina in customer relations and she says people using Payroll Plus are asking for a simpler, cheaper version of LL.”
“You have hard data to that effect?”
“Gina has a list of clients who’d happily test it and be our word-of-mouth network hubs.”
“Who’s already in the market?”
“We’ll blow the competitors right out of the water, Matt. They’re at higher price points, their programs are unwieldy, the menus counterintuitive. Nothing like the simplicity we’ve got built in with LL.”
“The packaging you’re showing is pricey.”
“We could scale it back. This is just a mock-up.”
“Our strategy is market expansion for Ledger Lite. A new niche would dilute that.”
“But it’s not new. That’s what’s cool. We’re already a preferred provider with Payroll Plus. We have seventy-five percent penetration with small business. So, no need to buy lists or cold-market at all.”
“You’ve got the numbers on that?”
“I was talking to Bud in R & D, yeah.”
He nodded slowly. “This would require a new interface. Lots of code hours.”
“Not if we adapted programming from a consumer product.”
“It would be a scratch effort. And our programmers are swamped with the fall releases.”
Candy’s heart was pounding in her ears. He seemed impressed, yet he shot down each answer with a new question.
“You seem skeptical. I can get more data, if that’s all.”
“That would help, because this would mean a big shift.” He hesitated. “It’s a good idea, Candy.”
“What’s missing?”
“The numbers, of course. It’s something to consider.” He smiled at her. Nice try, kid. She felt a mix of plunging disappointment and sharp fury. Why was he treating her this way?
“I have to ask…if Dave or Jim Daltry or Susan came to you with this idea, would you react differently?” Those three were definite team leaders.
“Of course not.” He looked startled. “We’ll consider it, like I said. Get the numbers for me and down the line we’ll-”
“Ledger Lite goes into beta in two weeks. It can’t be down the line. Can’t we talk with the programmers, see if they can fit it in?”
He studied her. “Scott would have to decide that. I’d need something to pitch to him.”
“A full marketing plan? No problem. I’ll do that tomorrow.”
“Candy, that’s crazy. This is your vacation. It can wait.”