“You looked like you had something serious on your mind when I walked in.” Louise took a seat. “Anything you want to talk about?”
“It’s Trey. I’m not sure he’s going to work out.”
“Really?” There was genuine surprise in Louise’s voice. “I thought he was easy on the eyes.”
He was. That was one of the problems. And when his hand had lingered on hers, her stomach had dipped like she was riding a roller coaster.
“He, um...doesn’t do things the way I expect them to be done.”
“But he does them?”
Sage grudgingly nodded. “And he has this habit of disagreeing with me.”
“So you want someone who agrees with everything you say?”
“No, but he’s...”
“He’s what?”
Distracting her—making her think of her sorely lacking social life. “He’s still on probation and I just want to make sure he’s the right fit.”
“As shorthanded as you are, can you afford to be picky?”
Louise was right. The Cannes Film Festival was later that month, and if they were fortunate enough to get passes, she needed someone reliable to help with it. And on top of being sexy, Trey had proven he was reliable.
She sighed. “You’re right. There isn’t time to find a replacement.”
“I think he’ll surprise you.”
That’s what she was afraid of.
* * *
His feet pounded the asphalt.
His muscles burned in that satisfying way.
His lungs strained to pull in more oxygen.
And Trey never felt more alive than when he was pushing his body to the limit. He normally made a point of running every morning. Today wasn’t normal. His life was anything but normal since he met Sage.
With evening setting in, he continued running—pushing himself. After bumping heads with Sage most of the afternoon, he was filled with pent-up energy. That woman was so frustrating and yet so enticing. He couldn’t decide whether he wanted to yell at her or pull her into his arms and kiss her.
He let out a frustrated groan as he slowed to a walk a block from his condo. The sooner he got the information he’d come to QTR for, the better. Ever since he’d stepped inside the office, everything had grown increasingly complicated.
The shrubbery next to him shook. He came to a stop. There was no wind to explain the sudden rush of motion. It was probably a squirrel. He was about to move on when he heard a high-pitched whine. Or was it a bark. Could there be a dog in there?
Trey peered closer at the bush. In the long shadows of evening, it was hard to make out a dog in between the leafy limbs. Then the bush moved again.
Arf! Arf!
Trey straightened and looked around to see if someone was looking for their dog. The bush was sitting next to a park, but no one was around. Just then a car turned onto the street. By the time it reached Trey, it was well above the speed limit. He didn’t want anything to happen to the dog.
Trey turned back to the bush. Why was the dog in the bush? Had it gotten lose from its leash and gotten scared?
Trey already had enough of his own problems. He didn’t need someone else’s. But if he had lost a pet, he would want someone to go out of their way and make sure it got safely home.
With a sigh because he knew that he wasn’t going to get anything else done that evening, he crouched down next to the bush. “Come here, fella. It’s okay. I won’t hurt you.”
Arf! Arf!
The bark had to be a positive sign, right? Trey hadn’t had a dog growing up. His mother said that she had her hands full with him and running the house alone. She couldn’t take on a dog, too. As such, he didn’t really know much about animals.
He kept his voice soft. “Come on. Come here.”
He kept talking to the dog in gentle tones, hoping the dog would trust him enough to poke its head out. He wished that he had some food on him. If worse came to worst, he could run home and grab some food—
The leaves moved again. A little head poked out.
Trey didn’t waste any time. He cautiously moved his fisted hand toward the dog, hoping it wouldn’t bite him. Instead it sniffed him.
“Good boy.” Trey made sure to keep his voice low and steady. “I’m going to pick you up, but you don’t have to worry. I won’t hurt you. Promise.”
And then he swiftly reached into the bush and wrapped his hand around the dog’s midsection. A clipped bark signaled the dog’s surprise. Before the dog could move, Trey was lifting it to him.
The dog weighed practically nothing. In fact, he could feel the dog’s ribs. Its fur was matted and dirty. Sympathy welled up in Trey.
“What in the world has happened to you?”
The dog shook with nerves. Ignoring the filth, Trey pulled the dog against his chest, trying to comfort it. The dog didn’t fight him. Trey wondered if it was because the dog at last knew it was safe or if it just didn’t have the strength to fight.
“Come on, buddy. Let’s get you home and fed.”
Trey felt awful that he’d almost kept going. The little dog was desperate for someone to care for it. He didn’t know that he was the ideal person for the job, but he would do his best.
THE NEXT MORNING, Sage kept checking Trey’s outer office. Usually he arrived early, but not today. She checked the time. He still had another fifteen minutes. Why did he have to pick today of all days to sleep late? She had big news to share with him.
After speaking with Louise, she decided that between the exhaustion and the stress, she’d blown that hand-touching episode out of proportion. After all, he arrived at work every day and was never late. He got his work done. What more did she want?
She knew what else was bothering her. This attraction that was arcing just beneath the surface could be a problem when it was just the two of them on the very romantic French Riviera. And this upcoming business trip couldn’t be canceled. The future of QTR Magazine was riding on it.
She’d just learned that her request for passes to the Cannes Film Festival had been approved. The committee had honored the magazine’s long-standing attendance and granted them three passes. One for the photographer and two for people to cover it with interviews.
She would need Trey’s help on this trip. The thought of covering the Cannes Film Festival on her own seemed, well, quite overwhelming.
Sage was hoping to make inroads with more stars and perhaps cover more than just their appearance at the festival. She had learned quickly that turning this magazine around was all about making contacts, whether it was a distributor, vendor or A-list actor. It was all about who you knew. And quite frankly, she’d exhausted her very short list of famous acquaintances.
She had just taken a seat at her desk to respond to some emails when she heard a noise. It sounded like Trey. Anxious to finalize the plans, she headed for the door.
“I’ve been waiting for you. I have news.” She stopped in her tracks. A ball of white fur was sticking out from under Trey’s arm. “What is that?”
He turned to her. His hair was scattered. His shirt was unbuttoned at the collar