Under Wraps. Joanne RockЧитать онлайн книгу.
If anything, he admired her all the more after watching her pull her life together in the wake of losing a job and getting dumped by the waste of space she’d been dating up until she’d been terminated. Marnie had defied the odds and opened her own business in a crap economy, using her travel smarts to her advantage in the new gig.
Smart. Sexy. And she’d be all alone inside in another minute once her customers left. Would he knock on the door as soon as they were gone? Or, knowing that she was prone to stripping off a few layers of clothes as soon as she flipped the Closed sign on her storefront, would he tune in to the BlackBerry a few minutes longer?
Heat crawled up his back at the thought. The need to be honorable warred with the urge to look his fill.
As she ushered her clients to the door, Jake figured he’d split the difference. He’d only watch for a minute and then he’d flip off the feed.
And this time, he wouldn’t settle for just fantasizing about Marnie. He’d follow it up with a house call, because damn it, he wanted to see the show in person one of these days.
Yes, a very Merry Christmas to him….
1
A DETAIL-ORIENTED, TYPE A personality, Marnie Wainwright took all necessary precautions. So she checked and double-checked the lock on the street-level door to her business. She closed all the blinds. She flipped the sign on Lose Yourself from Open to Closed.
Only then, in the privacy of the small storefront where she’d converted the back offices into a living space, did she pump her fist in victory and break out her best Michael Jackson move.
“Yesss!” She shouted her triumph, letting down her hair with one hand and switching the satellite radio tuner to dance grooves with the other.
Two months of hard work at Lose Yourself had paid off with her biggest profit yet now that she’d booked an African safari followed up by a beach getaway to Seychelles for a wealthy local couple. Two months of nonstop trolling for clients. Sixty-one days of researching unique trip ideas to appeal to an increasingly competitive travel market full of selective buyers who could easily book online. But her idea to pitch one-of-a-kind fantasy escapes was working.
“How do you like me now?” She sang a tune of her own making, rump-shaking her way into the back to retrieve a bottle of champagne she’d been saving from the days when her paycheck had been fat and the perks of working in promotions for a luxury global resort conglomerate, Premiere Properties, had been numerous.
She hadn’t salvaged much financially from that time, thanks to the bad investments she’d foolishly let her financial adviser boyfriend oversee. Little did she know then that he’d been even more clueless than he’d been charming, losing her hard-earned money almost as soon as she’d entrusted it to him. She’d been royally ticked off about that, but that had only been the prelude to him dumping her. On Facebook, no less. Apparently he hadn’t been interested in her once she lost her cushy benefits at Premiere. At least she understood Alec’s reasons. She never had figured out why Premiere had let her go or how her department had been losing as much money as her boss had claimed. But while getting laid off had hurt, it hadn’t broken her.
Tonight’s sale proved as much. She’d taken her travel smarts from all those years crisscrossing the globe for Premiere and used them to match up adventure seekers with just the right unique escape to suit them, whether that meant a spa trip to Bali or backpacking around the Indus Valley. The inspiration for Lose Yourself had come from her need to do just that. Since she hadn’t been able to take a vacation from her own problems, she enjoyed helping other people to do so.
Ditching her suit in a celebratory striptease for the benefit of a life-size cutout of a Hawaiian guy offering a lei to her, she tugged on a long black silk robe for her private after-party. The Hawaiian dude had been a promotional item from a hotel and not quite in keeping with the upscale, personalized appeal of Lose Yourself. But he was cute company in the copier room that doubled as a galley kitchen until she got on her feet enough to afford a real house again.
“Cheers to me!” She raised the proverbial roof with one hand while she twisted off the wire restraint from the champagne cork with the other.
Pop!
The happy sound of that cork flying across the room pleased her as much as the taste of the bubbly would. It had been so long since she’d had reason to celebrate anything. About the only other victory that came close was curing herself of the need to throw darts at the ex-boyfriend who’d helped her lose a job and her savings. She used to regularly wing a silver-tipped missile at a photograph taped to the dartboard she kept on an office wall, but she’d torched that picture a month ago in an effort to take ownership of her mistakes.
She’d almost taken a cute guy’s head off with one of those darts a couple of months ago, she recalled. Handsome contractor Jake Brennan had been handcrafting a display case for her storefront and had unwittingly opened a door into one of her tiny arrows. It hadn’t been her finest moment. Although Jake Brennan himself had been very fine indeed. Memories of his strong arms coated with a light sheen of sweat and sawdust as he’d sculpted the wood into shape had returned to her often ever since.
Pouring the top-shelf champagne into substandard stemware, Marnie lifted one side of her robe like a chacha girl before testing out a high kick. A little champagne sloshed out of the cheap glass, but the bubbles felt like an electric kiss sliding down her arm as she lifted the glass in a toast.
No doubt it had been thoughts of Jake Brennan that had her thinking of electric kisses.
“To me!” she cheered, then took a drink.
Rinnng! A call on her cell phone interrupted her celebration and she scrambled to grab it just in case it was a potential client. Seeing her former colleague’s name on caller ID didn’t mean it was a casual call. She’d been pitching her fantasy adventures to all her overworked, overstressed friends these past two months.
“Hello, Sarah.” Marnie turned the music down just enough to hear her friend on the other end of the phone.
“Hi, Marnie.” Sarah Anders’s voice was low, her tone oddly serious next to Marnie’s good mood. “Have a minute?”
“Sure.” Marnie sashayed her way toward the display case the sexy contractor had built, still dancing as she savored the taste of her drink on her tongue. “I’m just having a little toast to rich world travelers who aren’t afraid to take a chance on a new business.”
“You made another sale?” Sarah asked.
“An African safari. Not exactly the most original trip, but it’s long and involved and will keep me in business well into the New Year. Between that and a little holiday escape I booked for a couple who wanted to check out an ice hotel in Quebec City, I’ve had my best week yet.”
“That’s great.” Sarah’s voice didn’t match the words.
“What’s wrong?” Feeling the groove vibrate the floor through her bare feet, Marnie set her glass on one of the shelves of the bookcase.
“I just wondered if you’d heard any rumors about misappropriation of funds or big losses at Premiere Properties before you left.”
“Embezzlement?” Marnie told herself she shouldn’t care what happened over at Premiere Properties after she’d been terminated six months ago for bogus reasons. Her boss, Vince Galway, had told her some b.s. about cutting back on promotions, but the company spent money hand over fist to promote its luxury resorts. Still, she had to admit she was curious. “What makes you think that?”
“Nothing concrete.” Sarah sighed, a world of stress in one eloquent huff of air over the mouthpiece. “But there’s been a guy asking questions this week. He’s been discreet enough, saying he’s part of some forensic accounting team that Vince hired to double-check the books, but I think something’s up.”
For the first time in six months, Marnie almost felt lucky to have lost the job she loved at Premiere. Her business was taking off, and she didn’t