The Makeover Takeover Page 7

  But until she did, he would simply have to watch out for her. Make sure she didn’t get into any trouble with her “new look.” Prevent any problems from arising.

  He could do that. No sweat. He was good at handling problems. Crumpling up her transfer request, he tossed it in the can.

  Yeah, he was damn good.

  Chapter Eight

  A full week passed before Lauren realized her plan was being sabotaged. She might not have realized it at all if she hadn’t run into Julia Parker in the women’s restroom one day after lunch.

  “I love your new hairstyle,” Julia told Lauren, who was standing in front of the mirror, as she strode past. “And that outfit looks great on you.”

  “Thanks.” Brush in hand, Lauren watched the other woman disappear into one of the stalls, then glanced back at her own image. She’d teamed her black boots with her emerald-green dress today and was pleased by the compliment. Especially since it came from Julia. Fashion, Jay had informed her, was something that came and went, while style was a personal statement a person made about themselves with their clothes. Julia definitely had style.

  Even six months pregnant, the blonde always looked chic yet businesslike—and still very slender—in the clothes she wore to work. Earning a compliment from her reassured Lauren that her new look was a definite improvement.

  And she needed the reassurance. She’d never felt so conspicuous in her life as she had this past week. She felt as though everyone was looking at her. Until she’d gotten rid of them she hadn’t realized how she’d used her long hair, loose clothes and glasses as a barrier—or maybe camouflage—to protect her from the possible attention of men.

  Not that she needed to worry. So far, not one man had noticed the change—except for Rafe, of course, that day she’d asked for a transfer. And mentioning that she wasn’t wearing her glasses had hardly been much of a compliment.

  Since then, he’d practically ignored her for the most part. In fact, he often looked grim when she wore a new outfit to work. Sometimes he’d even glance away, as if he couldn’t bear to look at her.

  It hurt, but Lauren tried to ignore his reaction. Knowing how he felt made getting over him that much easier, she’d told herself bracingly. And it would be easier still, when her transfer came through and she was no longer with him all day long, five days a week.

  Still, it had been hard to request a transfer. She enjoyed her job, enjoyed working with Rafe. But she’d decided she’d overcome her unhealthy addiction to him more quickly by transferring to another department. Leaving the firm would probably be even better, but she doubted she could match the money she was earning at Kane Haley, Inc., and she didn’t feel like making the effort to find out. After the New Year, she told herself. She’d reevaluate the situation.

  “So what motivated all these changes?” Julia asked, as she. came out of the stall. She walked up beside Lauren, and switched on the tap to wash her hands. “Getting ready for the holidays?”

  “Well, there’s that—but I’m also trying to update my wardrobe—as well as my look,” Lauren admitted. She pulled the brush through her hair again, enjoying the way her new cut swung softly into place. Her hair was so much springier and fuller now that it was shorter.

  “Well, you’ve done a fantastic job,” Julia told her. “The change is remarkable.”

  Lauren gave her a grateful smile, and glanced back at her reflection. She had to admit, she thought so, too. Funny how something as simple as wearing new colors and different styles could make a person be noticed so much more. Her smile turned wry. Or at least, be noticed by the other women.

  Julia took out her compact to powder her nose. Lauren decided to freshen her makeup, too. She put away her brush, and pulled out the Beckoning Berry lipstick that Jay had stipulated for daytime wear. Until Jay had educated her, Lauren hadn’t even realized there was a difference in the makeup used during the day and at night. She’d certainly never had a lipstick that was applied with a tiny sponge at the end of a stick.

  She’d learned a lot in the past week or so from her friend. How to exfoliate—and to rejuvenate her skin. How to apply eyeliner and shadow correctly. How to mix and match her wardrobe—and the breast-enhancing qualities of an underwire bra. How to tweeze, pluck, shave and wax— in several excruciatingly painful steps.

  If only she could learn Jay’s secret for attracting men. “Smile at them more—gaze into their eyes—be friendly,” Jay had urged her. So Lauren smiled, and gazed and waved at just about every man that passed. The results so far hadn’t been good. In fact, they were practically nil. Although, for a while there, she thought as she slowly began outlining her upper lip, she’d had high hopes of Frank Stephens from accounting.

  She’d run into Frank in the lobby a couple of days ago, and he’d accompanied her all the way to the executive suites, chatting about some of the finer restaurants he’d discovered in the city. She’d been sure he was leading up to asking her out—but then Rafe had come into the room and immediately joined their conversation. He'd invited Frank into his office to give him the number of a new bistro on the Loop, and, when they’d returned, Frank had passed Lauren with barely a nod.

  With a sigh, she glanced at Julia, who was still powdering her small straight nose. Men definitely noticed Julia. Maybe she could shed some light on what Lauren was doing wrong. “You know, you and a couple of the other women have said something to me about my new clothes, but the men around here haven’t noticed a thing.”

  “Oh, they’ve noticed all right,” Julia assured her, meeting her eyes in the mirror. “I saw Ken Lawson just stand there and stare after you for a full thirty seconds when you passed us in the hall the other day.”

  Lauren frowned at a chip in her Pick Me! Pink nail polish. Ken was another one that she’d thought might be interested. He’d been very friendly on the day she’d worn her charcoal wrap dress, the one that showed a tiny bit of décolletage. “I’d hoped he’d ask me out,” she admitted, “but nothing ever came of it.” She turned back to the mirror.

  “That’s no surprise.” Julia closed her case with a tiny snap. “Isn’t Rafe his supervisor?”

  Lauren paused, lifting the lipstick from her mouth to give the blonde a questioning frown in the mirror. “Yes— but what does that have to do with it?” she asked, then started to color her lower lip, carefully working toward the corner.

  “I suspect, just about everything,” Julia drawled. “I heard through the grapevine that Rafe has put the word out that dating you isn’t what he terms, ‘a smart, career move.’ ”

  Lauren’s hand jerked, smearing a bright line of Beckoning Berry across her cheek. A flush of anger rose beneath it.

  “Why that—that—” Lauren couldn’t think of a word bad enough to describe her devious boss.

  Julia tried to help her out. “Jerk? Beast? Dirty dog?”

  “Every one of those!” Lauren declared, between gritted teeth.

  Julia gave her a curious look. “Do you think Rafe’s warning the other men off because he’s interested in you?”

  “Hah! All Rafe Mitchell is interested in is having things his own way.” Lauren yanked a paper towel out of the holder and wet it, then leaned closer to the mirror. “You hit it on the head with the dirty dog label,” she said, scrubbing furiously at the red mark on her cheek. “He’s like a dog with a bone—and not a bone that he even wants to gnaw on himself. All he wants to do is bury it somewhere, so he doesn’t have to worry about it,” she added bitterly, remembering the comment he’d made about her not understanding men.

  Julia’s blue eyes sparkled with amusement. “So what are you going to do?”

  “There’s only one thing I can do,” Lauren told her. She tossed her lipstick in her purse and clicked her bag closed. “I’m taking the rest of the day off and I’m going shopping.”

  Julia’s eyes widened. “I agree that shopping is the answer to most of a woman’s woes, but won’t Rafe get angry if you do that?”

  “He’d bet
ter not,” Lauren said grimly. “I’m doing this shopping for him.”

  The rescheduled meeting between Rafe, Kane and Lauren had just ended a few days later, when Lauren asked to be excused, saying she had a few phone calls to make.

  Both men nodded in agreement. Rafe glanced at her as she gathered up her papers. She was gnawing on her lower lip, a preoccupied frown in her eyes. He shifted his gaze to Kane, who’d been scanning the financial prospectus Rafe had prepared on Bartlett International, and discovered Kane was looking at her, too. Rafe leaned back in his chair, watching Kane watch Lauren… and sighed.

  He was getting tired of watching men watch Lauren. All week it had been happening. Men kept appearing, popping out of their offices like cockroaches in a two-star restaurant every time she passed.

  He’d caught James Griffin from the advertising firm they dealt with, shooting her a sidelong glance as she passed him in the lobby. He’d seen Nick Murray giving her legs the once-over as she stepped into the elevator. Even the janitor, old Artie Dodge—who was eighty-five if he was a day—had paused while mopping up the hall floor to gawk after her. Rafe couldn’t blame him. The sweet, slightly shy smile she’d bestowed on the old guy had made the whole place light up.

  Yep, she was stirring up men everywhere. And it was really starting to bug him. One of the roaches had even tried to trail her into the executive suite. Rafe had been forced to take Frank Stephens into his office and, with a thin smile and a firm pat on the back, had let the other man know he’d appreciate it if he’d keep his mind on business—and off Rafe’s secretary. He’d had to be equally blunt with Ken Lawson—a notorious flirt—and a couple of the other men as well.

  But at least, he congratulated himself, it appeared that the word was getting around. He knew for a fact no one from the firm had asked her out, because he’d kept her working late every night as a preventative. That ploy had also stopped anyone who didn’t work for Haley, Inc.—like that Leonardo character she still mentioned now and again—from asking her out as well.

  Yeah, he’d thought the worst was over. Yet, here was the big boss, checking her out right in front of Rafe as she picked up her papers and headed to the door. Rafe followed Kane’s gaze, noting how nicely Lauren’s red skirt displayed the trim shape of her hips and bottom as she sashayed across the carpet. Rafe wasn’t surprised at all that as soon as she left, Kane glanced at him with a slight smile and said, “She sure looks different. Nice haircut.”

  “Yeah, her hair looks great,” Rafe agreed, not bothering to hide the sarcasm in his voice. It hadn’t been her head Kane had been staring at. Kane’s grin widened and Rafe’s back teeth ground together. Okay, obviously something more than sarcasm was called for here.

  He decided to introduce a different subject. “How’s your search going for your mystery lady?” he asked Kane.

  His boss’s smile died. “Not so well. The lawyers haven’t made any progress yet, and I don’t have any new leads.” Kane tossed the prospectus aside, and shoved his hands into his pockets. “Maybe I should just give it up.”

  “No—you can’t do that. You need to find her,” Rafe told him firmly.

  Kane glanced at him in surprise. “But you said I was probably wasting my time. That you didn’t think she would welcome my interference.”

  “Forget what I said. I’ve changed my mind since last week.” Hell, if Lauren could change her whole image in a weekend, surely he could change his mind on something like this. “If you quit now, you’ll always be wondering— ‘What if? What if?’ ”

  Kane stared at him. “What if what?”

  How should he know? Rafe thought, irritated by the question. Couldn’t Kane do any of his thinking for himself? “What if… what if she needs help—or the kid does?” he responded with forced inspiration, remembering the comments Kane had made before. “You need to keep on the trail, keep looking for her.” And stop looking at my secretary.

  “I don’t think I could stop, even if I wanted to,” Kane admitted.

  Rafe stiffened in his chair.

  “I can’t get her off my mind,” Kane said. “Wondering who she might be. If she’s okay.”

  Rafe relaxed a little, as he realized Kane was talking about his mystery woman and not Lauren.

  Kane stood up, preparing to leave. Rafe rose also and walked him to the door.

  “Anyway, let me know if any problems develop with Bartlett,” Kane told him. “You and Lauren are going up there next week, aren’t you? To finalize the contract?”

  Rafe nodded.

  “Good. I’ll be glad to get this whole thing wrapped up.”

  He would be, too, Rafe thought as Kane left. Usually he could handle a deal like this with no problem at all. But he couldn’t seem to concentrate on work the way he used to. And it was all Lauren’s fault.

  He settled back at his desk, thinking about what a troublemaker she’d become. Lately, he spent half his time scaring off predatory males—or looking around, watching out for them. But still, he’d expected that—been prepared for it—from the day she'd chopped off her hair to her chin and most of her skirts to her knees.

  What he hadn’t expected was the effect the changes she’d made would have on him personally.

  He didn’t like them; he couldn’t get used to them. She’d always been there when he’d needed her, so responsive to his needs that he’d never had to think about her. Useful, unnoticeable and quietly eager to please. He missed all that as well as the easygoing camaraderie they used to share. Mentally, he deplored the loss of “the old Lauren.”

  But physically, his body applauded the changes she’d made. He’d see her and his heart would beat faster. His muscles tensed. Hell, the little Colonel in his pants practically stood up and saluted every time she entered the room.

  Logically, Rafe knew there was no real reason for his reaction. She was still just sweet little Lauren. How much of a difference could new clothes make? Apparently, a lot.

  Take the suit she was wearing today for instance. The one that Kane had checked out from top to perky bottom. For one thing, the suit was red. Lauren never wore red. She’d always been a pastel or neutral-colored person. But in red… man, did she look good. Her hair looked more golden, more burnished. Her smooth skin had a rosy glow. The color somehow made her eyes—displayed to advantage in her new contacts—look as blue and wide as the ocean. If a man wasn’t careful, he could drown in those big eyes.

  But Rafe was being careful—very, very careful—not to look at any part of Lauren for too long. Or too closely. Or too hard.

  He simply had to stop thinking of her so much. Wondering if her skin could possibly be as soft as it looked. Or her breasts as sweetly curved as her suit made them appear. To quit calculating how long it would take to undo the four small buttons at the front to find out. He had more important things to calculate. Like the profits and losses of this latest merger.

  Setting his jaw, he picked up the Bartlett analysis again—just as his door opened.

  Rafe looked up. The little troublemaker herself was standing there, looking like a sexy angel in that devil-red suit.

  Rafe frowned and leaned back in his chair. She had an oddly guilty look on her face. For disturbing him, no doubt. Well, she should feel guilty. She’d been disturbing him a lot—even before she came in.

  “Yeah? What is it?” he asked.

  He knew he sounded abrupt. He couldn’t help it. Nor could he keep his gaze from fastening on her mouth. She’d bitten off her lipstick. Her lips were now a dusty rose color. Innocently naked, beautifully bare.

  He watched that beautiful mouth move as she said, “There’s someone here to see you—if you have time. But if you’re busy…” She ended on a breathless note, and ran the tip of her tongue nervously across her lips, making them glisten.

  Rafe’s gut tightened. She hesitated, as if she wanted to add something else, but he couldn’t take it anymore. “Yeah—yeah, send them in,” he growled. “You’ve already interrupted me anyway.”

/>   He was perversely pleased to see her soft lips press together into a thin line. He answered her affronted look with an impatient frown.

  “Fine,” she said icily. “I’ll do that.”

  She disappeared.

  Two seconds later, Nancy came sailing through the door, a white fur coat wrapped around her shapely figure. The blonde headed straight for him, then made an end run around his desk. With her hands outstretched, she cried, “Rafe! My darling, I love it!”

  “You wha—mmph?” His question was stifled by the full lips pressed ardently to his. She’d caught his cheeks between her hands to hold him in place, obviously digging in for a long one, but Rafe grasped her wrists to pull her hands down. He reared back, managing to liberate his tongue, which she’d tried to take hostage.

  He grabbed her shoulders, holding her off as he asked, “What are you talking about?”

  “You joker, you! I’m talking about this!”

  She threw open her coat, and thrust out her breasts— which were pretty thrust out to begin with. It took Rafe a moment to notice the golden heart studded with diamonds hanging on a chain between them.

  He wasn’t quite sure what to say. “Yeah, it’s… nice.”

  “Nice!” She laughed coyly, snuggling her breasts up against his arm. “I simply love your Christmas present!”

  “My—? Hell—lo,” he said, making a desperate recovery. “I’m surprised you got it so quickly.”

  “The jeweler sent it over—special delivery.” She glanced up at him from beneath lowered lashes, then looked back down at her chest. “I can’t believe you were so extravagant. To buy me Moustier…”

  Rafe had no idea what moo-stee-ai was, but the awe on her face made his hair stand on end. He raked a hand through it, resisting the urge to tug on it. “I can hardly believe it myself,” he said sardonically.

  “But what makes it truly special, what means more to me than the ten rose-cut diamonds on the front and the fact that the locket itself is twenty-four-carat gold, is what you put inside.”