Sentimental Valentine Read online

  ALEX GREENVILLE

  © 2016 SENTIMENTAL VALENTINE by Alex Greenville

  www.AGRomance.com

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means without written permission from the publisher.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any similarity to actual people, organizations, and/or events is purely coincidental.

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  CHAPTER 1

  “Can you look at this …?”

  Two fingers raised, Joy Griffin, bade the speaker to silence. At her co-worker’s furrowed brow, her lips formed a pucker.

  Her co-worker, long-time employee, Samantha Reyes, dropped her volume in half. “Late night?”

  Joy shifted her fingers to a place between her eyes and prodded deep, but the swirling in her head mingled into the thrum of her heartbeat to create a deafening commotion. With her empty hand, she pulled open her desk drawer and dug out a bottle of pills. She was a few minutes fumbling with the childproof cap, finally spitting a curse word and slamming the bottle against the drawer.

  Samantha reached over their cubicle wall, captured the bottle, and removed the cap. She dumped two pills on the desk. “Enquiring minds want to know.”

  Stuffing the pills in her mouth, Joy downed them with lukewarm coffee and tried to focus. “My sister is getting married. Bachelorette party at the Fox N’ Hound.”

  “Ah.” Sam’s mouth curved into a grin, and she laughed beneath her breath. “How much did you drink?”

  “Too much …” Joy swallowed another gulp of her coffee. “And I may have ... acted out. I seem to be missing a few hours of my evening.”

  “Ouch. Well, I’ll speak softly then. But we have to finalize the Valentine’s Day cards this week, and I have a question about one in particular …”

  The question was soon dispensed with. Her headache was not, and come mid-morning, Joy was in agony. Logging off her computer, she grabbed her purse and made her way downstairs and out of the building. The January sun cleaved her head in two, but the rush of frigid air had the opposite effect, calming her frenzied brain. Burying herself in a shaded corner, she squeezed her eyes shut and tried to think of nothing at all.

  Unfortunately, her head didn’t cooperate, random snapshots of her evening rising one atop the other, foremost, a male dancer in a red thong thrusting in her face amidst the laughter of a dozen overeager unsupervised females. Somewhere after that moment, her mind went blank. She’d woken up fully clothed on her bed unsure how she got there except for a note from her sister that said, You owe me cab fare.

  Cab fare indeed. Five o’clock could not come quickly enough today. And a long soak in the bathtub, a half-gallon of mint chocolate chip ice cream for supper, then an early bedtime, and some cheesy romance flickering on the TV screen. Maybe tomorrow would be better, and she’d be back to her usual efficient self, overflowing with sentiment for a holiday that promised to be lonely.

  Especially since her sister, Maeve, would be on some beach in Bora Bora enjoying her new husband, Grady Aiers. Deserved. She loved her sister and liked Grady a lot. But still, she didn’t see anyone special in her own future.

  No, her future was decidedly solitary and bleak, filled with greeting card sentiments she penned, but couldn’t apply to herself, and probably on Valentine’s Day evening, a microwave meal of macaroni and cheese.

  A knock at his office door raised his gaze, and Heath Olson smiled at the face on the other side of the glass. Waving one hand, he motioned the familiar face inside and reclined.

  “How was the date? Oh … and welcome, by the way. Nice digs.” Jason Denny, longtime friend, and now, employee turned in a brief circle, then descended in one of two chairs facing him.

  He and Jason went back four years to a series of network development classes they’d been forced to take for their respective companies. Finding both had graduated from Dillinger High, eons ago, had given them much to talk about between sessions. They’d stayed in touch since, Jason calling him about the opening as head of production for the Sentimental Greeting Card Company. He’d jumped at the chance, needing, at this point in his life, to make a big change.

  “Thanks. I like it … and lousy,” he finally replied, responding to both of Jason’s remarks.

  Jason’s thick eyebrows arched.

  “Not her fault at all,” he tried to explain. “She was great … polite, friendly, attractive.”

  “She sounds perfect. What went wrong?”

  What hadn’t gone wrong was a better question. First, he’d chosen the wrong restaurant on the wrong night, then they’d been seated at the wrong table on the other side of the wall from a roaring private party. But his inadvertent experience with a member of that party had totally capped the evening off.

  “Everything. Started off good though.” Heath dropped his hand to his lap. “We were seated at a table overlooking the garden, perfect mood lighting. The chef sent us a complimentary appetizer, which Amanda loved.” Amanda had been a tad too picky for his taste. She’d complimented the appetizer, then not eaten much of it.

  “But?”

  “But … we hadn’t been there fifteen minutes when the noise from behind the wall just adjacent grew to an incredible level … laughter, whistling, and what I swear was Eighties porn music.” Which he’d found amusing. Amanda hadn’t.

  Jason laughed as well, draping his right ankle over his left knee.

  “Not that I’m familiar with porn music,” Heath added. Or not much.

  “Of course.”

  Heath offered his friend a loopy grin. He released it moments later, sour memories recapturing him. “Anyhow, I kept waiting for the expected orgasmic moan … it was that bad. Amanda was super uncomfortable, which, I guess told me a lot about her. Her dating profile had said her father was a minister.” He’d considered that a plus at the time, a girl who’d be “safe” and not expect anything of him right away. Heath refocused. “I decided to complain to the manager. I apologized to Amanda, said I’d be right back, and got up intending to do just that.”

  “You didn’t?”

  “Well …” Heath paused.

  Well … his path had taken him to the door of the private room instead. What he’d intended to do he wasn’t sure, except cracking that door had changed everything for good.

  “I didn’t see the manager and thought maybe I could just ask whoever these people were to tone it down. I mean, I’ve been to that restaurant dozens of times and never had this problem. I figured they’d listen to reason, not that it was really any of my business what they were doing in there. In any case, I opened the door and was snagged almost immediately by an extremely sexy redhead in a skintight black dress.”

  Jason’s brows arched further.

  “Cleavage out to here …” Heath gestured away from his chest. “Blue eyes that I swear held the entire ocean in them. And don’t get me started on the legs.”

  “She sounds awesome, but don’t tell me you abandoned Amanda for a fling with the temptress.”

  Heath laughed once, though it really wasn’t so funny.

  “Not exactly. It was more she sucked me in.”

  Literally, her lips pasted to his, her tongue doing wild things, her hands on his … Heath coughed. “She was drunk.” Ten sheets to the wind and he was confident had no idea what she was doing. “Apparently, the music was for a male stripper dancing some ten feet away
. All I remembered before the girl dumped an entire cocktail on a very expensive silk shirt were a lot of dollars exchanging hands, ten of which made their way into my waistband.” Minus his shirt, which the girl had untucked, her perfectly formed womanhood wedged tight against him right where it was supposed to be.

  Jason released a laugh, which quickly dissolved into even more. His eyes bright, his cheeks reddened, he only muffled the noise when their boss strolled past. They waited until he was gone to exhale.

  “What did you do?” Jason asked, his voice low.

  “It gets worse.”

  Unbelievably worse. Having abandoned Amanda to fix the problem and been drawn into the melee in the private room, some ten minutes had passed, so Amanda, concerned about where he’d gone, had come to find him.

  “My date walks into the room to find me smelling like I’d bathed in liquor, my clothing half off, dollar bills tucked in my belt, some … woman … grinding herself against me. Needless to say, it was over after that.”

  Jason winced.

  “I ran after her and tried to explain, but it only sounded more and more lame the longer I spoke. I finally gave up, called her a cab, and returned to my table to eat what was a very fine steak … alone.”

  Pity formed on Jason’s face. But then, he had every right to feel that way. He was happily married to a wonderful woman he adored. Both he and his wife had successful jobs, and they’d recently purchased a new house.

  Heath waved one hand outward. “Don’t sweat it. I’ll just remain alone a while longer. And, for what it’s worth, the irony of working here, where ‘sap’ is the mode of the day, has not escaped me.”

  “Maybe you should go find that redhead, sounds like you clicked with her way better than Amanda.”

  He should stay miles and miles away from that redhead. She was exactly the kind of woman that he used to hang out with and none of those relationships had turned into anything. Besides, he told himself, by now she was probably wishing she hadn’t drunk so much.

  Heath’s desk phone rang, and Jason rose, waving one hand in goodbye before slipping out of the office. The door slowly slid closed. Heath lifted the receiver and pressed it to his ear. “Heath Olson.”

  Joy’s phone rang, and she grasped hold, willing the speaker to talk soft.

  “Ms. Griffin, this is Natalie Saccardo. I need to speak with you in my office.”

  “Yes, ma’am, be there in five.”

  Joy hung up the phone, but stared at it for the longest time. Closing her computer, she rose. She’d hoped to fudge her workload for the remaining two hours of the day and crossed her fingers that whatever this was wouldn’t impinge on that.

  Natalie was the CEO. The only person higher than her was the owner, Dale Verrano. She’d been here long enough to heed the rumors about both of them. Natalie was no nonsense, if a bit tough, and Dale the antithesis of who you’d think would run a greeting card company. Both had a low tolerance for office shenanigans.

  She understood that. As a smaller, independent card maker, it was important to run a tight ship, or the larger, more worldwide, greeting card companies would run right over them. But company success set aside, she, herself, was way down on the totem pole of importance for the CEO to need her for anything.

  “You wanted to see me?” she asked, poking her head into Natalie’s posh office.

  Decorated ultra-modern, every surface glass or metal and reflective, it struck Joy that the sleek interior was much like Natalie herself. There was, despite the number of electronic gadgets, a lack of wires or any evidence of connectivity. Again, telling.

  “Yes, but we’re waiting on your counterpart.” Natalie waved her over to one of two clear plastic chairs.

  Perched on the edge, Joy folded her hands in her lap and hoped her pounding headache wouldn’t prevent her from hearing whatever was about to be said.

  The minutes lengthened, and the atmosphere grew awkward. Natalie cleared her throat. “Here … I don’t know what’s taking him so long, but I guess I could give you a peek.” Taking hold of her computer screen, she revolved it in Joy’s direction. “Every year, you might recall, we do a Valentine’s Day charity benefit for the wives and families of fallen soldiers. This came about because of Mr. Verrano’s military past. It’s always a big deal and raises lots of money for the cause. Well, this year, our usual organizer, Ms. Evans, has retired. We wish her all the best, but must rally the troops, so to speak, and move on.”

  “I don’t understand,” Joy replied. “What does this have to do with me?”

  She’d never gone to the benefit, the price per plate being too high for her small salary. She lived comfortably, but not so much she could afford to let go of a week’s pay. Mentally, she’d told herself she fully supported it. Though, thinking on that, if given the chance, she might do things differently than the way it was typically run.

  “I can see your brain is ticking already.” Natalie smiled. “I asked around, discreetly, who people thought might take over for Ms. Evans and your name kept coming up.”

  Joy started. “M-me?”

  Natalie nodded. “I took a look at your card designs, too, and I have to agree. You have a wonderful talent, the way you tie the sentiments to the artwork is magical.”

  “Thank you. I’m flattered, but … I … I’ve never organized an event. It feels like too much ….”

  Especially today. The throb in her head became a pulsing swish.

  “That’s why I want to pair you …”

  A knock at the door broke into Natalie’s words, and she waved two fingers at the guy standing on the opposite side. He was incredibly handsome, broad-shouldered, with the stance of someone of military background. His blond hair cut short in a similar manner and two amazing silvery-gray eyes.

  He was also strangely familiar, though she couldn’t figure out why. Probably, she’d seen him in the building. They might’ve ridden in the elevator together, and that’s all it was.

  “Heath, please come in and take a seat.” Natalie motioned to the chair at her side. “Joy Griffin, this is Heath Olson. Heath Olson, Joy Griffin.” She made a nod to each.

  Heath stepped in her direction, but upon sitting, appeared startled. His eyes widened, and his nostrils flared. He didn’t speak, but seemed to want to. And the niggling came again … that she knew him from someplace. Someplace besides work. It hurt too much to recall it, however.

  Natalie reclaimed their attention. “I was just talking to Joy about the Valentine’s Day Soldier’s Benefit Dinner and enlisting her help. She was worried about the organizational side of things, and that’s why you’re here.”

  Heath looked forward, at last, but wrung his hands in his lap.

  Why was he so nervous? Because of her?

  “Heath’s our new head of production,” Natalie continued. She flicked him a glance. “You served a tour overseas if I’m correct?”

  Heath nodded. “Two years in Germany.”

  “And you still have military connections?”

  Heath gave an odd smile. “Dear old Dad.” Whatever his dad’s connection was though, he didn’t go into it.

  Natalie nodded. “I remember you talking to Mr. Verrano about all of that. At the same time, it struck me you have a compartmentalized way of thinking. That was, in fact, part of what set you above all the other applicants.”

  Joy studied him. So he was the new guy. She’d heard they’d replaced Mr. Walker, who’d previously held the job, but being as that department was on a different floor, she’d had no reason to meet him yet. Nor any expectation to.

  She shook her head, drawn back to Natalie’s voice.

  “I want you to work as Joy’s right-hand man and help pull the whole event together.” She paused. “We have a list of former invitees, people we can count on to give, but I’m sure, with your connections, you know others. I believe your help will make this the best holiday ever.”

  Natalie sat back in her chair, gazing from him to her. She didn’t speak for a minute, the
n a smile rose on her lips. “You will both be able to ask whoever else, with approval, of course, you think you need to help you. We want this year’s dinner to be our most effective.”

  Heath squirmed in his chair, more evidence of his discomfort showing, and flicked her a strange, worried glance. Then facing forward, he leaned in. “You want me to work … with her?”

  Natalie nodded. “I think you’ll make a great team.”

  In response, he wrapped one hand around the back of his neck. Seconds later, standing, he lowered it to his side. “I have to decline.”

  Joy leapt in place. Decline? Because of her? And could he do that?

  Natalie’s expression sharpened. “It isn’t really up for discussion, Mr. Olson.” Her use of his surname was noted. “But perhaps you’d like to tell me why.”

  He didn’t, however. Instead, he edged to the door, taking hold of the knob. “I’m sorry. I will not work with her on this … or anything … ever. I have more important things to do.” With that, he left.

  Stunned, Joy quivered in place.

  Natalie stared after him, then reaffixed her gaze. “You have twenty-four hours to convince him or …” She let the thought fade. “Don’t show up tomorrow without his consent.”

  The threat was clear, but when she didn’t move, Natalie waved her toward the door. “Go.”

  Stumbling over herself, Joy made her exit. She met eyes with a woman in a pinstriped pencil skirt. “The guy who just passed here …?” she asked.

  The woman pointed left, and Joy, spotting his head at the elevator, took off at a run.

  CHAPTER 2

  Four lacquered fingernails poked in the narrow opening, and the elevator doors reversed. The woman who’d spawned his worst … best … evening poked herself inside.

  He’d left a certain portion of the story out when talking to Jason … the part where he’d dreamed about her and woken up erect and in need of a long, cold shower. Now, here she was, and if he couldn’t extricate himself, it’d happen all over again. She was a torch and him, kindling, just waiting for the spark to hit.