One Night with the Sexiest Man Alive (The One 1)

Hassan shook his head. “I don’t think that’s it.”

“She would’ve mentioned it,” Haydn added. Teela knew how to ask for what she wanted.

Rick slapped his thighs. “What are we talking about here?”

“That card. It wasn’t good enough,” Haydn said, noting Hassan’s nod of agreement. And the guy wouldn’t have known what it said any more than Haydn did. It was something the florist they used was told to write, decided on years ago.

“It’s never been a problem before,” Rick said.

“That we know,” he responded. And he hadn’t cared enough to find out. “It’s a problem now. Teela is different.”

“Not American. Not in the business. Not someone you’re likely to run into again. She was a perfect pick. What are you saying?” Rick asked.

“I don’t know.” It would never not feel odd that he had to talk about his love life with his team. “I liked her. We had fun.” Even when he was seeing someone long-term, it was usually more perfunctory than this, about logistics, like transport and food, not the state of his heart. Not that this was about his heart. It just felt wrong and that’s where the wrongness was geographically located.

“I don’t want to think about Teela being upset. What does that card say?”

Rick went for his phone and looked it up. “Lovely to meet you. All the best.”

“Oh shit, that’s cold.” He looked at Hassan’s face, his lips drawn away from his teeth in a grimace and made the same expression in agreement.

“It’s never caused a problem before.” Rick said. “You never wanted anyone to feel like there was going to be any further contact. A clean cut. It does the trick.”

Haydn was firmly on the record as a committed bachelor who loved women but not enough to spend forever with one. So that shouldn’t surprise anyone. Sex was sex, and as long as it was fully consensual and not likely to lead him anywhere tangled, he was all for having as much of it as possible.

The not getting tangled part was the real trick. One-night stands and super-short affairs were the perfect remedy. His last true relationship had been with an Italian model. After three months, she’d wanted forever. They’d compromised on nothing.

“I know. I know.” Those words would’ve been workshopped by everyone on his team who worried about his private needs and public image. “But I feel bad now.”

“And?” Rick said.

“I’m going to do something about it.”

“Boss, I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

He stood from the weight bench. Now he had a mission that was more interesting than waiting for a phone call. “I know exactly how bad an idea this is. It’s perfect.”

It was lunchtime when he called Carpenter Conference Management. His damn voice was so famous the woman who answered got giggly, but she agreed to put him through to Teela without announcing him.

“Teela Carpenter.”

“Hi, it’s Haydn. I was wondered if you’d like to join me for lunch?”

He heard a weary sigh and his eyebrows shot towards his hairline. “Who are you?” she said. “Did Evie put you up to this? I’m going to kill her.”

“I don’t know who Evie is, but I think you should spare her life.”

“You’re good. You sound just like him. You could probably get work doing impersonations. Maybe you already do. This was fun.” she said flatly. “I’m hanging up now.”

And she did.

He laughed into his handset. Last person who done that to him was Mom when he made her angry about not coming home for Thanksgiving one year. Who knew he’d miss people being so annoyed they hung up on him?

He took the bag Hassan held out to him. “I don’t know what to tell you. Hang around. She might kick me out.” That’d be another first. Made him square his shoulders before he got out of the car as if he was riding into battle. “If I’m not back in five, take a break. Rick will call.”

When Rick opened the door to Carpenter Conference Management, a woman looked up from behind a desk and gasped.

“Are you okay?” Haydn asked.