Hot Fudge And Peppermint Part 1

Hot Fudge and Peppermint.

Second Chances Trilogy.

By Mary Taffs.

PROLOGUE.

April.

The boring old Nik would never have done this. She would have waited for Bill to call or come by. She would have been afraid she'd shock him with her forwardness if she stopped by his dorm room with a sundae, on a night when they'd both planned to study.

But that was the boring old Nik - the Nik who spent her evenings and nights studying. The new Nik wasn't flashy and her face and figure weren't breath-taking, but she was having fun for once in her life.

Thanks to Bill. She might be a senior and him a freshman, but he was a master at seizing the moment. He was a master at pleasing a woman in bed, too - and boring old Nik wasn't nearly as boring now that she was the woman in his bed.

She hadn't discarded all vestiges of her old caution, though. Walking into his dorm and up the stairs to his hall made nerves skitter in her stomach and her hand feel slimy on the cardboard ice cream dish. The promise of his special-for-her smile was enough to steady her and propel her the last few feet to his door.

She calmed her breathing, then knocked.

No answer, but she heard sounds through the door. It was probably the radio, and it might be loud enough that he hadn't heard the knock. She knocked again, louder this time.

And she waited. Finally, the door cracked open a couple of inches, and Bill demanded, "Geez guys, can't you take a hint?" He wore only jeans, unb.u.t.toned at the top, and his face went slack when he saw her.

"Nik."

She shoved the door open another two or three feet, and the smell hit her. The smell of s.e.x. The room was lost in shadows, but she knew there was a woman in Bill's bed.

She had the crazy idea that she ought to apologize for disturbing him - or say something completely civil and thoroughly cutting like her brother's fiancee Julie would. But really, all she wanted was to disappear, to magically transport back to her dorm room where she wouldn't have to pretend she wasn't devastated.

She couldn't disappear, though, and she absolutely would not react like the old Nik. "I brought you atreat, but I see you've got one of your own," she said, grabbing the waistband of his jeans and pulling it open. She heard the metal zipper slide open. "Feel free to share this with her."

Quickly, she dumped the sundae in his pants.

CHAPTER ONE.

October, Eight Years Later.

"Wait up a second, Bill!" Scott hailed him from down the hall. Bill paused at the intersection of hallways and waited for Scott to catch up. "You remember Nik Harding, don't you? She was in George's cla.s.s at the University, and she says you two knew each other, too."

The name grabbed at his insides, and he looked at the business-suited woman next to Scott. It really was her. "Nik." He stopped and took control of his mouth. "Of course I do. Hi, Nik." His smile didn't feel real.

"h.e.l.lo," she said, without an accompanying smile.

Scott continued, seemingly oblivious to their awkwardness, "Nik's here today interviewing for the customer support manager job. Seth's supposed to see her next, but he's tied up right now on a conference call. I thought maybe you two'd like to do some catching up until he's ready."

He caught what looked like horror on Nik's face, but he replied, "That's a great idea, thanks. Come on, Nik - my office is down this way."

As they walked away, Scott said, "Ellen will call when Seth's free."

"Right in here," he said, leading the way into his office and sitting behind his desk. "Have a seat, Nik. It's great to see you again."

She perched on the chair closest to the door. "Look, we don't have to talk. Just go back to whatever you were doing, and I'll look through this folder." She opened the folder of fluff pieces about Adams-Worthington and its product, TechDoc.

"You don't want to read that c.r.a.p," he said with a laugh. "Anyway, I always wished I'd had a chance to talk to you again." He'd tried, too. He'd stopped by her room unannounced and lurked near the rooms where she had cla.s.ses. The few times he'd been in the right place at the right time, she'd acted like he was invisible.

"Well, I never did." Her voice was flat, with a hint of steel he didn't remember from college days. She'd been tough to get to know then, but under that she'd been soft, and s.e.xy as h.e.l.l.

"You're still p.i.s.sed at me, aren't you?" All these years later? Wasn't that carrying a grudge a bit far?

Her mouth pursed in disgust. "Of course not. I simply have no interest in pretending to be friends with you."

He hadn't gotten his reputation with women by backing off at the first sign of resistance. "Fine. We don't have to be friends." He paused to give her a false sense of hope, then added, "I'd rather be your lover, in any case."

Her body jerked to full-alert, and he was amused to see her b.r.e.a.s.t.s suddenly become well-defined under her suit jacket. The covered-up look had been her style back then, too. It had made discovering the lushbody underneath that much sweeter. "They let you get away with saying things like that here?" she demanded. "No wonder I haven't seen more women today."

"They don't have a clue what I say," he said, not completely truthfully. He'd gotten in trouble more than once over suggestive comments to female employees. "Plus, I'm only telling the truth, Nikolia."

"Nik," she insisted, her teeth clenched. Her given name had embarra.s.sed her when he'd known her before, and apparently that much hadn't changed.

He smiled. "I like Nikolia. It's pretty - like you." That wasn't a line, despite the fact that her looks wouldn't win her a second glance from most guys. He'd taken that second glance long ago.

"You can't think -" she started belligerently, but the phone stopped her mid-sentence.

He glanced at the display. "h.e.l.lo, Ellen. Are you ready for me to bring Nik Harding down?"

"Yes, please," she said in that b.i.t.c.hy tone she used with those she considered her inferiors.

He hung up without responding. It wouldn't hurt her to treat him with half the respect she'd shown George. His brother had been a jerk, and the fact that he was co-founder of the company shouldn't have earned him special treatment.

He stood. "We'll continue this later, Nikolia."

He was looking forward to it already.

Nik knew the interview was drawing to an end. Mr. Worthington was telling her now that they expected to make a decision on the job by the middle of next week. Quickly, before he started on the "thanks for coming in" speech, she spoke up. "Mr. Worthington -"

He interrupted with a warm smile, "Seth, please."

She smiled back at him. "Seth, then. Before we finish, I need to explain about my health. I a.s.sure you that I'm capable of handling this job, but I have a chronic illness that affects me all the time, to one degree or another." That sounded rather dire, but she couldn't in good conscience make it sound minor. "I have fibromyalgia."

Concern replaced his smile, but the warmth was still there. "Fibromyalgia is a difficult disease. One of my wife's friends has it, and she's had quite a time."

"It is difficult, and one of the trickiest parts is that there are no definitive answers on what works or even what causes it." She took a deep breath and began what she thought of as her sales pitch. "I was diagnosed two and a half years ago, and one of my first decisions was that I wouldn't let the disease control me any more than I absolutely had to. I read everything that's published on the subject, and I've developed a very personal regimen of diet, exercise, and lifestyle modifications that works for me. It's a continual balancing act, but I haven't missed any work due to illness for more than a year now."

"That's impressive," Seth replied. "Annabelle's friend has given up most of her outside activities, and she recently had to hire full-time help around the house. I wonder if the same routine would work for her."

"Possibly, although it sometimes seems like there are more differences than similarities in how people with fibro feel the disease and with what helps them." Because this was a job interview, and because she felt adeep bond of sympathy with other fibro sufferers, she added, "But I'd be glad to talk to your wife's friend and tell her what's worked for me, if she's interested."

He smiled. "Thank you, Nik. I'll tell Annabelle about your offer." He dismissed the subject with a slight nod and said, "Now, about this job. I'm sure you realize that there's a reasonable amount of stress in any management position, at least at certain times. Would that be an issue, as far as your health goes?"

She needed to carefully mix honesty with optimism here. "Stress can be a problem, I admit, but I've found that if I'm careful to take a couple of breaks during the workday and not work too many extra hours, I get along just fine. My career is extremely important to me, and I make the necessary tradeoffs in my personal life to allow me to fulfill my work commitments."

That brought a concerned frown to Seth's face. "I appreciate your commitment, but as I always emphasize to my managers, I want and expect them to have lives outside the office. In fact, I explicitly discourage employees from making a habit of working more than forty-five hours a week. Barring deadlines or unforeseen disasters, if anyone's job takes that much time to perform adequately, something's wrong."

"That's an interesting philosophy," she said. "Most high- tech companies I'm familiar with are just the opposite."

He nodded. "I know, and their employees burn out or wreck their home lives because of it. My personal life has always been important to me, and when George and I started this company, we took the opportunity to do things the right way. I don't want to get ahead of myself, but I a.s.sure you that if we offer you this position, we will be prepared to accept any limitations your health might impose on the performance of your duties."

Nik didn't dare take his words at face value, but still she relaxed a little. Maybe she'd actually be judged on her professional abilities this time, unlike last summer when she applied for a support manager job at her current company. Everyone at DesignTek had been careful to say the right things about her health, but she didn't make it past the first round of interviews. Considering the lesser qualifications of the candidate who was hired, she was certain fibro had played a large role in the decision-making.

In any case, given that Bill was a manager here, she wasn't completely certain that a job at Adams-Worthington was quite as ideal for her as she'd hoped. She was no longer the naive girl she'd been when Bill had broken her heart, but she couldn't be sure the years had made her any more able to resist his all-too-evident charm.

Seeing a former lover wasn't exactly unheard-of for Bill. He had plenty of them, and a not-insignificant number worked at A-W. But there was something different about seeing Nik again.

It had been years longer since he'd seen her, for one thing. Freshman year in college was - what, eight years ago? He'd been eighteen and just set free from a h.e.l.lish childhood. He'd loved everything about his new life, especially all the available women.

In retrospect, he could see that Nik had been the wrong type of woman for him. She'd been too serious, too focused on the long-term. He'd been interested in long-term goals only to the extent necessary.

Learning computer science was important because it would lead him to a well-paid and secure career, but he didn't spend the hundreds of extra hours on it that Nik did. There were too many fun things to do in life - and too many beautiful women to do them with - to study more than necessary. Eight years might have pa.s.sed, but it was clear they'd both stayed basically the same. She was a serious-minded woman and he was a fun-loving man. So the line about preferring to be her lover instead of her friend was just that - a line. He didn't care if he was either.

He was a healthy male, and when he met an attractive woman - or met her again, as in this case - she stirred a few fantasies.

Plain and simple.

The following Thursday after work, Nik sat in her combination office/gym and stared at the phone. Seth had offered her the customer support manager job on Tuesday, and she'd promised to call today with her answer.

The answer had to be yes. She'd worked too hard for too many years to refuse the chance to become a manager, and a company like Adams-Worthington would be a great place to work.

Other than Bill, that is. She'd been a fool over him one too many times already, and she couldn't afford being a fool ever again. She'd been honest with Seth about how she handled stress - job-related stress, that is. Emotional stress was different, and much harder to manage.

She'd had a taste of how much harder, right after she was diagnosed. She and Allen had still been engaged then, and she'd demanded that the doctor figure out what was wrong with her so she could get back to planning the future with him. The diagnosis was a huge shock. She was young, she had her whole life in front of her. How could he tell her she'd always have this rotten disease?

Instead of helping her deal with the blow, Allen retreated completely. She didn't hear from him for a week and a half. He finally came here to the house where she spent most of each day limply sprawled on the sofa, and broke up with her. He sympathized with her illness, but he wanted an active life with several children, and Nik would never be able to fit into that life.

He was right, but that didn't make his rejection any less traumatic. In less than two weeks, she'd lost everything that mattered to her.

She got sicker. Days pa.s.sed in a blur of pain, and nights were never-ending. She couldn't sleep, and if somehow she fell asleep, she felt more exhausted than ever when she woke up. The simplest tasks became more than she could do. A shower left her weak and dizzy the rest of the day. She ate whatever she happened to have on hand, whenever she got hungry enough to venture all the way to the kitchen.

Neal almost certainly saved her life. Her little brother was nearly six years younger, and he'd finished art school that spring. He moved into the house and took care of her for the next several months. He cooked nutritious meals and made sure she took the medicine the doctor had given her to try. When she felt a little better, he helped her begin to exercise and to learn how to avoid getting in such a bad state again.

Avoiding relations.h.i.+ps with the wrong kind of people was one of her basic tenets. She didn't have the time or energy to waste on negativity or game-playing, and Bill was a game-player. He'd liked his big-man-on-campus image all those years ago, and he still had the same swagger and self-a.s.surance. His good looks were intact, too - the blond hair that belonged in an ad for hair color, the face that might belong to a very naughty angel, and the body that matched. She could laugh now at him saying he'd rather be her lover than her friend - as long as a woman was breathing, he'd think that.

Suddenly, she realized that she didn't have to worry about Bill. He couldn't force her into something shedidn't want, and she certainly didn't want to be one of his women again. Their jobs were in different parts of the company and that nice Scott Richards was Bill's boss. She suspected Scott was the one she'd work with most often. And bottom line, she could guarantee that Bill would leave her completely alone by the simple expedient of telling him about her illness.

She did a few minutes of deep breathing to relax her muscles, then called Seth to accept the job.

Bill waited until just before lunchtime to go to Nik's office. Not that he was planning to invite her to lunch.

He'd simply found that was a good time to catch a lot of people alone in their offices.

He was eager to validate his theory of why Nik had been on his mind so much since her interview. The way he figured it, he virtually always was the dumper in a relations.h.i.+p, not the dumpee. He tired quickly of women, and once a woman had worn out her welcome with him, he avoided her like the plague.

But Nik didn't fit into that category. He'd been a long way from tired of her when she caught him with that nothing who was mad at her boyfriend. He'd been sorry to lose her, and his attempts to win her back had been as unprecedented as they were unsuccessful.

It only made sense that he'd feel like he had something to prove with her now. He wouldn't mind having her be the one left out in the cold this time, either.

But really. The whole thing was pointless, like digging up any other random piece of ancient history and getting all fixated on it. Life now was way too good to bother with any of that c.r.a.p.

So, his whole point in barging into Nik's office this morning was to demonstrate that to himself. Nik was an attractive woman, one he'd be perfectly happy to go out with, if she was interested. It appeared so far that she wasn't, which was fine.

There were - what? Maybe half a dozen candidates here at A-W he hadn't gotten around to dating yet.

In addition, there was the apparently-limitless supply of women he met at the athletic club and local bars.

His life wouldn't come to a cras.h.i.+ng halt if Nikolia Harding didn't join the queue.

His fine intentions lasted until she raised her head and nailed him to her partially-open office door with her eyes.

CHAPTER TWO.

Nik had known this would happen. Bill had been persistent back in school, and he'd a.s.sume that the same tactics would work this time. They wouldn't, and she'd make it crystal clear. "Are you here about work?"

She probably only imagined his momentary hesitation, because before she was sure it had happened, he was lounging in her guest chair with a lazy smile. "Not today. I just thought I'd stop by to see how everything's going - it being your first day and all."