Mixing business with pleasure never felt so right.
Blake Buchanan and Anastasia Delaney were roommates in college and could never see eye to eye about anything. The only time their walls came down was during one night of passion before Ana left without a word, never expecting to cross paths with Blake again.
Years later, Blake has made his millions. He comes back to Ana’s small California town to manage a corporate takeover that will close down the home restoration business she’s poured her heart and soul into. The fiery Ana is determined to convince money-minded Blake of her business’s worth, but when a family emergency throws them together, their walls come tumbling down once again…
Problem is, Blake’s business-first position hasn’t changed. And Ana can’t fall for the man who could become her boss—it’s not only her job at stake, but her heart.
Information:
Title: Tangling with the CEO (A Half Moon Bay Novel)
Author: Annie Seaton
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Length: 202 pages
Release Date: December 2013
ISBN: 978-1-62266-090-2
Imprint: Bliss
Praise for Tangling with the CEO:
“A must-read mix of sexy, sweet, and funny that will warm your heart.” –Rachel Lyndhurst, author of Kidnapped by the Greek Billionaire
Excerpt from
Tangling with the CEO
by Annie Seaton
Copyright © 2013 by Annie Seaton. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce, distribute, or transmit in any form or by any means. For information regarding subsidiary rights, please contact the Publisher.
Chapter One
“Ouch.” Anastasia Delaney dropped the hammer and put her thumb up to her mouth. It was sure to bruise from the thump she’d just given it. There was only one more length of decorative beading to nail up around the window frame and then she would have to leave for the meeting she was dreading so much.
The years had flown by since she and her two best friends had started the restoration department at Joe Hickey’s little hardware store in Nebbiton, California. Ana had spent years in her gramps’s toolshed when she was growing up and had a natural talent for working with wood. Sienna was the artist who worked on the delicate moldings and painting. Sienna’s twin sister, Georgie, was the jack-of-all-trades who could turn her hand to any task. Their company’s reputation had grown and they always had plenty of jobs booked in the old cottages along Highway 1.
Ana loved nothing more than working with the friends she’d known since grade school. She blinked back a tear at the pain in her thumb and the thought that this could be their last restoration job together.
“I will miss this so much once the takeover goes through and our department is shut down. We do damn good work, girls.” Ana ran her hand lovingly over the highly polished window frame. “It’s just unfair. Why does everything have to be about profit? We use quality materials, and look at our results.”
“Don’t be so negative.” Sienna wandered in from the balcony and stood beside Ana. “We’re not going to give up until we know for sure our jobs are gone.”
Georgie frowned from the top of the ladder where she was hanging curtains at the other end of the bay window. “You can’t be late for your appointment. You should have left already. And you haven’t even changed.”
“Changed?” Ana brushed the sawdust from her sleeves. “What’s wrong with my work clothes? I’m a tradeswoman.”
“No. You are a successful businesswoman and you’re meeting with a head honcho of the biggest chain of home improvement stores in the country. He might also be our future boss.” Sienna reached into her pocket and held up a set of car keys. “I came prepared. You’re taking my car and you’ll find a suit and heels on the backseat.” With a languorous wave of the paintbrush she was holding in her other hand, Sienna stared at Ana. “My sporty little car will impress the hotshot executive.”
Ana looked down at her paint-splattered overalls and sighed. “Maybe you should be the one to go and convince him not to shut us down.”
Sienna waited for Georgie to climb down the small ladder and then she put the paintbrush on the bottom rung. “Look, we’ve been over this. You knew this guy in college, so that has to give us a bit more bargaining power.”
“Blake Buchanan worshipped the dollar when we were at USF, so I don’t think we’ll have any chance of him reconsidering the closure of our section.” Ana sat on one of the upturned buckets and looked up gratefully as Georgie passed her a cold drink. “And I didn’t mention it before, but we parted on bad terms, so it’ll probably give us even less chance of saving our jobs.”
She turned to the large window that looked out over Half Moon Bay. The ocean was a sheet of silver with not a breath of breeze ruffling it. More unusual was the absence of any fog. Just a dull silver sky reflected in the sea. The magnificent view calmed her nerves a little as she sipped the cool water. She didn’t want the twins to know she and Blake had been more than mere acquaintances when they were roommates in the house he’d owned ten years ago.
Even though they’d both been studying for a business degree, their philosophies had been so very different. Blake’s emphasis on conservative economics had been at odds with her study of welfare economics, and they’d eventually agreed to disagree when their arguments had become too heated. Though their discussions had been stimulating and Ana had loved sparring with him. Most evenings she would bait him with a provocative comment about her day in class just to get a rise out of him. He was so passionate about his beliefs that he fell for it every time. She’d loved watching his eyes darken and his sexy mouth lift in a smile when he realized she was teasing him. She had instigated many a discussion just so she could watch his face come alive. And she’d fallen a little more in love with him the longer she stayed in the house.
“We were absolute opposites in everything and we fought like cats and dogs,” Ana explained to her friends. “He even listened to classical music. I mean, who does that in college? That was my heavy metal stage and it drove him crazy.”
“What else?” Sienna’s beautifully made-up eyes were fixed on Ana’s face.
“You know how I love football?” she continued. “I used to go to the games at Candlestick Park with the other guys and Blake would be off playing golf or something equally as snooty.”
Georgie giggled. “Are you sure you aren’t being too hard on him? You did go through a pretty wild stage in college.”
“It all came to a head one night after we’d been to a 49ers game. We came home and Blake was waiting on the porch and he read me the riot act about the state of my room. God, even Mom didn’t do that.”
Sienna picked up her paintbrush, her eyes narrowed. “Maybe your mom should have?”
“Thanks, pal.” Ana wasn’t offended. She was used to being teased by her friends. She’d lived in chaos then and she still did. There just wasn’t enough time to run a business and finish restoring her old cottage. Keeping everything tidy didn’t pay the bills. “Anyway, I’d had a couple of beers at the game so I told him he had no right to be in there, called him a sexist pig, and slammed the front door in his face. I locked him out of his own house.” She smiled at the memory. “The other guys went to bed and Blake sat outside, cooling his heels until I let him back in. There was a ladder he could have used to climb up to a window but I knew he was terrified of heights.” She chuckled and then sobered. “Then I got the call about Mom the very next day and moved home. You know the rest.”
Actually, they didn’t.
They knew she’d given up college in her senior year to come home and nurse her mother through the final stages of breast cancer, but she’d never told anyone about that final night with Blake. It was a delicious memory, one she’d pulled out and relived during the tough nights when her mother had been dying.
When she’d decided to let him back in, Blake had been sitting on the front steps looking down at the bay and he’d ignored the open door behind him. Ana had stood quietly for a moment drinking in the sight of him before she’d called to him softly.
“Blake.” His broad shoulders strained beneath his white polo shirt and his dark hair curled over the collar. A shaft of pure longing shot through her. “I’ve opened the door for you.”
Ana’s fingers had itched to run through his hair, and she’d fought the urge to go and sit on the step next to him in the moonlight.
“What are you looking at?” he’d asked.
Heat had suffused her face at the thought of being caught checking him out, and she covered up her discomfort by teasing him.
“Couldn’t you find the ladder?” She’d put her hand up to stifle the giggle rising in her throat. “I was just wondering if it was safe to let you back in. Or have I pushed your buttons again?”
Slowly, Blake had pushed himself to his feet and turned around. Ana had edged back through the door, unable to read the look on his face in the shadows, but his stance was predatory. In one swift movement, he’d jumped up the last step and before she could get inside, he’d pinned her against the wall of the porch. Ana had tried to cover up the feelings rioting through her with a nervous laugh.
“Let go.” She halfheartedly tried to pull away, but he’d laced his fingers though hers and held her hands above her head.
“Anastasia, you always push my buttons, and you don’t even have to try.”
She’d been trapped between Blake and the wall, and when she’d looked up at him, her breasts had pressed into his hard chest. With a soft groan, he’d lowered his head and gently slid his lips across her cheek. “You drive me crazy, do you know that?”
With each word his mouth had gotten closer to hers until they’d hovered over her lips. “The way you walk, your voice, your laugh, that hippie perfume you wear. I can’t get you out of my head.”
She’d smiled at him and eased her arms from his loose grasp, taking his face between her hands. “I can’t stop thinking about you either,” she’d whispered. “And I’m sorry I called you a sexist pig.”
That first kiss they’d shared on the front porch had been slow and soft. The fresh smell of his sweatshirt had surrounded her as he’d held her close and to this day, the fragrance of clean washing reminded her of that first kiss. The feel of Blake’s warm mouth on hers was everything she’d dreamed of, and she’d closed her eyes as a delicious languor drifted through her. She’d sensed he was holding back and that it was up to her to let him know it was okay to take it further. Maybe he’d known it was her first time, and she needed to let him know it was what she wanted.
Finally, she’d smiled against his mouth and murmured, “My room or yours?”
He’d lifted his head and even in the dim light she could see the laugh lines crinkle around his eyes, and the warmth stirred low in her belly as he’d held her gaze.
“Is your bed clear?”
“It’s made, but it’s covered in…er…stuff.”
“I guess it’s my room, then.”
“So are you going to stand there daydreaming all afternoon, or are you going to go to San Francisco and save our jobs?” Ana jumped when Sienna dangled the keys in front of her face.
“All right, I’m going. But be prepared for disappointment. Blake was a nice guy, but when it came to business, profit margins always came first.”
Georgie shook her head. “I’ve been trying to tell you that for years. You can’t expect a small business to support every philanthropic activity.”
“Well, Joe does.” The owner of the local hardware store that employed them turned a blind eye to a lot of the work they never billed out to the older folk. Joe’s family had opened the first general store on Main Street in Nebbiton in the 1850s, and he loved his hometown with a passion. “I can’t understand why he had to sell the business anyway, and to a huge corporation.”
Sienna rolled her eyes. “Well, he’s almost eighty years old. He has no children to take over the store, and he and Magda deserve a nice retirement. She was looking at cruise brochures just the other day.” She nudged Georgie and winked. “She said she might as well read something because she was sick of waiting for our accounts to come in.”
“All right, all right. No need to be snarky. I’ll do them tonight.” Ana reached for Sienna’s keys. “I will finish them, and when Blake comes to the store, we can show him how much business we pull in. That will convince him to keep us on. Besides, the community needs us.”
Sienna yawned. “Two problems with that, hon. You’re the one meeting with him, and I have a feeling that may be the only meeting that happens. And do you really think a big company like Home and Hardware will care about the community? Maybe it’s time we faced reality and accept we are all going to be out of a job.” She folded her arms and gazed out the window. “I have enough put away that I can manage for a few months. I’ve already been offered a couple of days’ work at an art gallery in Carmel.”
Disappointment pressed on Ana’s chest like a dead weight. It sounded as if her friends had accepted that their work was about to end. “Well, whatever you decide, Georgie and I can still keep the business running.” She turned toward the front door full of renewed determination. “I hate change. I really do.”
Georgie cleared her throat.
Ana turned around and groaned. “Oh, no. Not you too, Georgie?”
“It’s just a backup. Just in case you can’t convince your Blake.”
“He’s not my Blake,” Ana snapped. “And what plans have you made?”
“Joe told me there will be a position in the new store for me. He knows I don’t mind working there when we don’t have renovation jobs.”
Ana came back across the room and draped her arms around the shoulders of the two women who meant the most to her in the whole world. Since her mother died, she had no other family and she’d filled the emptiness with her work. Sienna and Georgie and her elderly friends in Nebbiton were her life.
“It’s okay. I’m being selfish. Like I said, I hate change. But I will convince Blake to keep us on, anyway. No matter what it takes.”
Sienna grinned at her with a wicked glint in her eye. “No matter what it takes?”
Ana folded her arms and nodded. There was no way she was going to let her friends and the community down. It was just sheer bad luck that Blake was the new CEO. Their business was at stake and she couldn’t let her old feelings for him affect how she dealt with him now.
Unless—she turned as a thought struck her, and stared out the window—unless there was some way she could turn it to their advantage.
Two hours later, Ana parked Sienna’s two-seater red sports coupe across the street from the elegant Victorian mansion in Nob Hill, thanking whoever was looking out for her. A parking space in downtown San Francisco was like gold any time of day or night.
Raindrops glistened in the watery afternoon sunlight and reflected a rainbow of colors across the front porch of Blake’s stately mansion. Ana sat in the car for a moment and closed her eyes, trying to calm her nerves as the memory of being kissed on that very porch slammed into her.
Maybe she’d been a one-night fling to Blake, but she’d followed his stellar rise in the business world with interest after he’d gone to New York and completed his MBA. Okay, maybe her Internet searches were more than a passing interest—more like a hunger to fill the emptiness where her heart had once been. Last time she’d Googled him, he’d been managing a wilderness retreat in Alaska. After that she had made herself stop cyber-stalking him—it wasn’t healthy and she had plenty to fill her life without dreaming of an old flame.
“Get out of the car. You’re not in college anymore.” She opened her eyes and took a deep breath. All of her old insecurities had come rushing back. She’d always regretted having to drop out of college, but she knew it had spurred her on to work harder to make the business a success. Just because she didn’t have a piece of paper didn’t make her any less capable, but it always bothered her when people asked about her qualifications. “It doesn’t matter that you don’t have a degree. You’re a successful businesswoman, now act like one.”
So what if my dreams of New York and my MBA are history?
She’d had a precious six months with Mom before she died, and her life had turned out just fine without a bachelor’s or master’s degree. So maybe she didn’t have a stellar Fortune 500 career like Blake and some of the others from their house, but the little enterprise she, Georgie, and Sienna had set up was successful and fulfilling.
Who knows what might have come after our night together if I’d stayed and we’d talked?
The next morning a gentle hand brushing her hair had woken her. Blake was propped up on one elbow gazing down at her, and his lazy smile had sent quivers rocketing through her.
“I’ve got an early class, but I’ll come home straight after,” he’d said. “Wait for me?”
He’d kissed her good-bye and lingered before he’d left for his class, and Ana had snuggled back down in his huge bed to wait until the ringing of the house phone had woken her from a deep sleep.
“I’ve got less than a year, Ana.” Her mother’s words were still imprinted on her mind.
My mother, my beautiful mother. Nothing else mattered in that moment.
She’d jumped out of bed, tucked Blake’s sheet around her, and stumbled into her room. She’d picked up her clothes from the floor and the closet and jammed them into her suitcase. There was no room for her books so she’d left them on the desk. Within an hour, she’d thrown the sheet off, showered, and called a taxi to get her to the bus station. At a loss for words, she hadn’t even left him a note.
After her mother had passed, she had briefly considered going back to college, but by that time, she and the twins had started up their restoration business. She knew Blake had moved to New York to take a position in one of the top firms on Wall Street and she was determined to forget about him. He would have moved on in his own life, and she had too. All she hoped was that he occasionally thought back fondly to that night with a roommate from college. She’d had several short relationships over the years, but none of them had stayed in her heart like Blake. Before that night, she realized now, all of their teasing and arguments had been part of the deep attraction they had felt but not admitted to each other.
And now here she was, in her best friend’s sports car dressed in a borrowed business suit and a pair of borrowed Jimmy Choos, a designer bag tucked beneath her arm, her stomach churning, and about to see Blake again, to convince him not to close down their little business as part of the takeover of the Nebbiton hardware store by the national corporation he represented. Already she was regretting coming. She was nowhere near prepared for a business meeting and she had a feeling that no amount of sweet-talking would change his mind.
“Shoot.” Water gushed into her shoe as she stepped out of the car straight into an icy cold puddle from an overflowing drain. Sienna would kill her. “Focus,” she muttered to herself, bending to remove the ruined footwear. “One wet shoe is the least of my worries.” It wasn’t just the thought of her friends losing their jobs that was making her feel ill.
Pull yourself together. It was just a college crush. Just one night.
They were so different, it never would have worked out anyway, even if Mom hadn’t gotten sick.
She tucked Sienna’s shoes under her arm, swallowed, and pushed open the gate.
…
Blake Buchanan checked his e-mail from the study of his family home, annoyed that his appointment was late. Not that he had an actual appointment time to wait on. His new secretary had called earlier and said that the guy in charge of the restoration department had made an appointment for after three o’clock. He really had to do something about her. As well as being vague about the actual time of the appointment, she had said she didn’t know the guy’s name either. If there was one thing Blake hated, it was inefficiency. He’d be replacing her first thing next week.
He was more than ready to call it quits for the day. It had been a long week full of meetings with suppliers and Skyping with Mike Montgomery, the owner of Home and Hardware. All he had to do now was get this appointment out of the way and then he intended to pour a red wine from the well-stocked cellar. He was looking forward to shedding his business suit and getting into a comfortable pair of jeans. This meeting was a waste of his time anyway. He had already decided that whole department would go in the takeover. There was no place for nonexistent profit margins in the new financial model. Blake had been chief executive officer at Home and Hardware for the past three years, and shedding personnel was just another part of the job to him. Nothing to lose any sleep over.
He’d requested the transfer to the West Coast when Mike had indicated an interest in taking the Nebbiton store under the Home and Hardware franchise. Once talks were under way and contracts prepared, Blake had moved home. Returning to San Francisco meant being close to family—even though there was only his sister, Jeannie, her husband, Rod, and their tribe of kids left, he was determined to settle back into the family home he’d inherited. And he was going to enjoy life in the city where he’d grown up. He’d had the house refurbished recently, and now he looked around it with pleasure. The freshly painted walls and the polished timber floor gave no hint of the chaos of the college years when the house had overflowed with students and all the paraphernalia of their lives. It was such a contrast to the way they lived back then.
He couldn’t help but think of Anastasia Delaney when he thought about those college years. She’d been the only girl in the house and the most disorganized person he had ever met. She’d driven him crazy with the chaos that she’d created and her idealistic economic views. Or so he had pretended. He’d taken every opportunity to tease her and bait her about her philosophies, just to see the animation in her face when she’d argued with him.
What a beauty she’d been, blond and lithe. And her carefree spirit and her joyful approach to life had brought the house alive. He’d watched from afar as she’d gone out with the other guys and envied the fun they had together. Until that night she’d locked him out and they ended up in his bed. It had taken him a long time to put aside the crushing disappointment he’d felt when he finally realized she’d left.
On the way back from class that morning, he’d bought a huge bunch of brightly colored flowers, and anticipation had filled him as he’d opened the door. But his bed had been empty and at first he’d assumed she’d been called in to her part-time job at the coffee shop. Finally, after waiting for hours, he’d checked her room, and he still remembered the hollow ache in his gut as he’d looked at the empty closet. The white sheet from his bed had been draped across her desk and he’d picked it up and inhaled her unique fragrance. Now the smell of patchouli oil always gave him a pang of regret.
When she didn’t get in touch with him, the anger kicked in. She’d been toying with him and was obviously as loose with her relationships as she was in the rest of her life. Everyone in their house lost touch with her from that day, and she’d never come back for her books. They were still down in a box in the basement with a few other things she’d left scattered around the house.
But she’d stayed firmly fixed in his mind until he left for his job in New York. He couldn’t understand why she’d dropped out of college so suddenly, and he’d often wondered if she’d finished her degree somewhere else. And he couldn’t let go of that niggling guilt that sleeping with him had caused her to flee. It hadn’t made sense because she’d murmured sleepily for him to hurry back when he’d had to leave for his early class. And he thought she had enjoyed the night of gentle passion as much as he had.
He hadn’t thought about her for a long time.
She’s probably married and still lurching from one disaster to another. Maybe he could look her up now that he was home. Being able to do the corporate work he loved and live back home was a perfect combination. His work was his life but it wouldn’t hurt to have a little bit of down time now he was here. As soon as this last appointment was over, he would make a start on his weekend. He wasn’t used to taking time off, and he wasn’t quite sure how he’d start.
That’s if this guy ever arrives. Blake glanced down at his watch in annoyance, and then he stood and moved across to the window as the sound of a car engine reached him.
About time.
A red BMW Z3 was parked across the road. A firm derriere and long legs with shapely calves were visible as a woman in a red suit bent down beside the car and removed her shoes. His heartbeat kicked up a notch as a cascade of silvery-blond hair swung forward hiding her face from his view. For a fleeting moment, the sight took him back ten years. The unusual silver-colored hair reminded him of Anastasia. It certainly wasn’t her, because she’d hated all the trappings of wealth. Fancy cars, exclusive addresses, and what she’d called “unnecessary luxury goods” provided the catalyst for some of their more interesting—and fiery—debates. She’d always go on about giving back to those who didn’t have as much, and helping those who were unable to help themselves. He shook his head, wondering what she’d done with her life and if reality had helped her outgrow her naive beliefs. He’d never been able to agree with her soft approach.
If you wanted something, you worked for it. It was as simple as that.
He dropped the curtain, irritated with the direction of his thoughts, and picked up his newspaper. Anastasia was in the past, and now he would give this guy five more minutes before he missed his chance to make whatever argument he was going to use to try to convince Blake to keep the restoration department.
Just as he became engrossed in the front page, the doorbell rang. Blake stood, folded the newspaper, and placed it neatly on his desk.
Straightening his tie, he moved across to the door and glanced through the window. The BMW was still across the street but the Anastasia lookalike had disappeared. Schooling his face to reflect a conservative businessman, he opened the door. It was like a punch in the stomach and he struggled to catch his breath as the fragrance of patchouli oil drifted across from the silver-headed woman standing on the front porch.
“Hello, Blake?” The sweet voice reminded him he was staring and he gathered himself together as she reached out to grip his arm. “Blake?”