Two to Tangle

That was the window she’d been working on when she’d seen Troy Langtree changing his tire. Somehow, after he’d pulled away that night, never even coming into the store, all her creative juices had really started flowing. She’d abandoned her original design. Raiding the sportswear, housewares, men’s, ladies’ and electronics departments, she’d created a window display with a cutely dressed, intrigued female peeking at a hunky, bare-chested male mannequin dancing in a streamer-and-fan-created rainstorm.

Some of the older crowd imagined she’d been inspired by Gene Kelly tap dancing in the rain. Truthfully, the only inspiration she’d needed was Troy Langtree, shirtless, wet and dazzling.

Troy hadn’t even commented on the content of the window. She didn’t think he’d ever made the connection, never suspected she’d seen him that night. But he’d certainly noticed the publicity, not to mention the crowds. As had his grandmother, who’d requested a private meeting with Chloe the day the picture came out. Troy had approved her travel expenditure to the conference two days later.

She hadn’t heard yet what Troy thought of her latest display, the one still in the front windows. Somehow, after searching in vain for the man who existed beneath the conservative suits and bored expression, she had again gotten a little carried away the previous Friday night. Using the same male and female mannequins from the rainstorm scene, she’d managed to create a woman’s daydream. The female stood face-to-face with the boring but smartly dressed male while fantasizing about his half-undressed body double, who stood draped in dreamy folds of gauze in a back corner of the window.

One of her better efforts, she believed.

“Maybe you’re right,” Chloe finally said. “Mrs. Langtree was awfully friendly when we met, especially for someone I’d heard was a white-haired piranha.”

Jess shivered. “Better you than me. She scares me. I’d rather fly beneath the radar.”

“And I window-decorated myself right into the line of fire.”

“Just don’t tick her off.”

Chloe shrugged, still unsure why the elderly matriarch of the Langtree family had been so interested in meeting Chloe after the picture was in the paper. Or why she’d stared at her so intently and asked questions about her personal life. Then again, maybe all rich people were weird, nosy and thought themselves entitled to ask their junior staff members if they were single, if they smoked, and if they wanted children. She’d seemed pleased with Chloe’s answers: Yes. No. And someday.

“I don’t know why you’re working here doing these windows, anyway,” Jess continued. “You’re almost finished school. You’ll get a great job as a buyer or merchandiser as soon as you graduate.”

“Unless I want my mother, sister and I to live on canned ravioli until that day, I have to keep some money coming in,” Chloe retorted.

Jess suddenly bit her lip, looking sheepish. “Of course you do. Your mom still hasn’t found a job?”

Chloe shook her head and turned away, not comfortable talking about her family’s financial situation with anyone, not even a friend as loyal and supportive as Jess.

“Well, then,” Jess said, “I’m glad you get to go on this ‘business trip.’ It’ll be like a minivacation. After working so hard at night while going to school during the day, heaven knows you need it.”

That was a nice thought, but Chloe didn’t view this trip to the luxury resort as any kind of vacation. She intended to use the conference to soak up every bit of information she could about the retail industry in south Florida. She needed the exposure, experience and future career connections the conference offered, particularly since she was already four years behind her peers in getting her bachelor’s degree.

It had taken several years of working in retail jobs full-time after high school to raise the money for college. Sure, she’d been offered scholarships—but scholarships wouldn’t pay rent on her family’s small house. Chloe’s salary did.

Her mother’s last job, in a legal office, had seemed like a dream come true a few years ago when Chloe had finally been able to start school full-time. Chloe knew her mother had tried to stick it out for her family’s sake. She’d remained employed for three and a half years—the longest Jeanine Weston-Jackson-Smith had ever held a job in her life. During that time, she’d helped Chloe with her tuition. Plus, between the two of them, they’d managed to save a nice nest egg so her half sister, Morgan, wouldn’t have to do as Chloe had done. Her little sister would start at a good private college when she graduated high school next year, no matter what.

But for now, her mother was again happily unemployed, throwing herself into her latest artistic endeavor: ceramic lawn ornaments. And then again, there was her most recent romantic relationship, with a guy she’d met at a health food store.

Whenever the money got too tight, her mother would wistfully bring up Morgan’s college account, but Chloe had made her promise they wouldn’t touch it. No way was she going to let her brilliant sister miss out on any educational opportunity provided to her. Jeanine had, despite the gleam in her eye when she looked at the bank statement, agreed.

So for now it was again up to Chloe to support her mother and younger sister as best she could. If she could handle this night job until the end of the year, she’d be able to graduate by Christmas and maybe have a good-paying, full-time position by the New Year—just in time to sock away the rest of the money she’d need to send Morgan to school the following fall.

The connections she could make on this trip might help that wish come true. But Jess was also right—she could definitely use a couple of days lounging by a pool at a pricey resort.

“Maybe you’ll meet some fab man who’ll make you forget all your problems.”

Chloe shrugged. “I’m beginning to think there’s no such thing as a fab man.” She dropped her chin into her palm. “The young, gorgeous, carefree ones only seem to want one thing. The older, responsible, successful ones are either taken or impossibly arrogant. The older carefree ones are usually gay.”

“What about the young, responsible, successful ones,” Jess said eagerly.

Chloe snorted. “Like Troy Langtree.”

“I get your point.” Jess sighed. “He gives new meaning to the word ‘stiff.”’ As if just hearing the sexy underlying meaning in her comment, her friend covered her lips with her fingers and began to giggle uncontrollably.

Chloe felt a flush rise in her cheeks. “He’s not what I’m searching for. A guy who can hold down a job would be wonderful—but he has to at least be able to laugh at a good joke. I’ve never seen Troy Langtree crack a smile that wasn’t prompted somehow by finances or sales figures.”

“Well, you’re right in terms of here at work,” Jess said, thoughtfully tapping her finger on her cheek. “But I’ve been here a few months longer than you, and I have heard rumors about his after-hour activities. He might not actually be the conservative, respectable man he pretends to be here at work. Away from the store, he may not be exactly what he seems.”

Chloe knew better than most that he wasn’t what he seemed. Unfortunately, she hadn’t seen him after hours in two weeks. “There are days when he’s so stuffy, I can’t picture him taking off his six-hundred-dollar suit even to barbecue in his backyard.” Unless, of course, he’s changing a tire!

“But I think I’d be able to overlook a lot of arrogance to come home to a man who looks like that every night.”

Chloe didn’t reply. Troy had been on her mind enough already; she didn’t need to start talking about him to another man-hungry woman.

“Maybe you’ll get lucky this weekend,” Jess continued. “Maybe the rumor mill is right and he’s a different man outside the store. He might just sweep you off your feet during the conference.”

Chloe dropped a long, ivory-colored plastic leg onto her right foot, then hissed and hunched over in pain. “What are you talking about?” she finally managed to gasp. Wincing, she hobbled over to her desk and leaned against it to take her weight off her squashed toes.

“Well, you know, he’s going to be there, too.”

“No he’s not. This meeting is more for marketers, buyers, and P.R. types. Not store owners.”

Jess raised a perfectly plucked, heavily penciled eyebrow. “Yes, Chloe, of course he is. He goes every year. Besides, I heard him talking to his secretary about it this afternoon. I was trying to get him to sample some new Pico cologne, which, by the way, is so sweet and flowery, if I went out with a guy who was wearing it, I’d be checking for bra straps.”

Chloe rolled her eyes. “Get back to Troy.”

“He’s going to the conference, too. You didn’t know?”

She shook her head. “I had no idea. Is he going to be staying there? At the same hotel?”

“Well, sure.” A smile crossed Jess’s face as she obviously noticed Chloe’s consternation. “Oh, so you have noticed him and you are interested, hmm?”

“Noticed, yeah. But I’m not interested. Like I said, he’s not my type.”

“Not your type for the long-term, maybe,” Jess said, obviously warming up to her subject. She leaned closer, conspiratorially. “But why not have a sexy little fling while you’re both out of town?”

“A sexy little fling? I don’t do sexy little flings.” My mother is the sexy little fling person in my family. “And I seriously doubt Troy Langtree does, either.”

“Just because you haven’t doesn’t mean you can’t,” Jess said. “Isn’t it time to give yourself a break? Indulge in something delicious for a change? Okay, you know you and the stuffy one have nothing in common and couldn’t possibly get seriously involved. So what? Nothing to stop you from getting mindless and fabulous in bed with him for a night or two.”

Chloe tried to close her ears. What Jess suggested was simply impossible. Even if she was willing, Troy Langtree had never given her any indication he was attracted to her.

“Heck, I’d seduce him in a heartbeat if he appeared the least bit interested,” Jess continued. “Unfortunately, judging by the women I’ve heard he’s dated, I suspect he likes curvy, stacked bundles—like you—rather than stick-thin Amazons like me. Why don’t you stop by the makeup counter on your way out and I’ll get you some samples for this weekend?”

“Forget it,” Chloe said with a snort. “This is about business, not pleasure. I’m not going to get personal with Troy Langtree, the managing director of this store.”

Of course, if Troy Langtree the pagan tire changer shows up, I might just be persuaded.

“Okay, suit yourself,” Jess said as she stood and prepared to leave the office. “But remember, if you keep putting off finding Mr. Right until after you finish school and get your mother and sister taken care of, you might find he’s already married…or old and in need of Viagra!”