The Amazing Date

by Mel Walker

Synopsis

Enemies to Lovers

Travel Romance

Best Friends Brother

Swoon Worthy Hero

Brilliant Heroine

Thrills and laughs for days

 

When my eyes first set on Rylee, I knew she had the ability to either steal my heart or break it.

I never expected her to do both.

Four years later, I thought she was my past, but once again I am wrong.

Fate has decided to play a game with my heart. Rylee and I are entered in a  team competition and, you guessed it, she’s my partner. 

Can I survive being attached at the hip to the one woman who has my blood boiling and my heart racing at the same time?  Time to find out.

Ready…Set ….Go. 

Let the games begin.

Release date: August 19, 2021

Sample

Chapter One

Rylee

 

Garrett Richardson, principal in charge of accounts, rocks side to side in the high-back leather chair at the head of the conference room table. His gaze has been avoiding mine for the last five minutes, and I know bad news is on its way. Yesterday, he danced in the hallways having landed our biggest account to date—the world-renowned Claire Ballet Company. Their star dancer and daughter of the founder, Sylvie, taking over ownership of the company a mere sixty days after hanging up her pointe shoes The news shocking the industry as she sidelined her parents who had built the prestigious company from the ground up. Rumors of a closed-door feud have leaked, and Sylvie’s actions seem to confirm she and her parents are on different pages. She’s wanting to make a statement out of the gate, kicking their long-time digital agency to the curb and selecting our small boutique shop to scrub their digital image on all platforms.

It’s a major get for us as agencies four and five times our size were in the running. Our shop is considered small, but size is relative. We have four locations, two outside the United States, with two hundred and fifty employees. Along with an extensive network of freelancers and consultants, we can call on within a moment’s notice.

Across from me sits Kira, my office frenemy, both of us are on the fast track of rising talent in the firm, the young, fresh, aggressive type which drew Sylvie to KLC Digital Media. Garrett wasted no time broadcasting to the rest of the agency we are the top two candidates. I paint a plastic smile on my face, pleased with the two-page summary I sent to Garrett last evening listing my recent accomplishments, including stepping in to help Kira get an out-of-control campaign back on schedule last month.

Kira matches my insincere smile and twists toward Garrett. We are both twenty-four years old, same height at five-five, and probably wear the same dress size, but we are worlds apart. She crosses her legs, drawing attention to her inappropriate short skirt. The navy and gold stripes more appropriate for a college pep rally than an office. A dry chuckle escapes from my throat, causing Garrett to finally glance in my direction. I scoff at his raised brow, letting him know how ridiculous and transparent I find Kira’s ploy.

Garrett is a twenty-two-year industry professional, I’m sure every season he’s crossed paths with an overeager, manipulative, let me take a shortcut hack like Kira. I shouldn’t be concerned. Yet, I lean forward, the tips of my two-inch pumps pressed into the carpet. Garrett has barely looked in my direction since I’ve entered the room.

Garrett clears his throat and starts, “Well, let’s get to it. As you know this is an incredible opportunity for our firm. What sold Sylvie is our ability to be nimble, read the market, and build creative and memorable material that cuts across age groups. Both of you are incredible talents and bring different skills to the table. In an ideal world, I’d have both of you work on the account.”

Kira doesn’t even attempt to hide her eye roll, I flick a finger in her direction, the presence of Garrett preventing me from selecting the digit she truly deserves.

“Kira,” he states, shifting in his seat and my heart drops. “Congratulations.” Her thin hand shoots toward him, their handshake like a red flag in front of my bull temperament. My hands squeeze the edge of the conference table to prevent the charge.

I rise from my seat, lifting my leather portfolio to my chest. I fight the urge to jump across the table and kick him in the shin, but an image of the damage I’ve caused the last time I kicked something flashes through my mind. An impulsive action that reverberates within me to this day.

I take a deep, cleansing breath and attempt to recall all the lessons I’ve learned since that time. Stay professional, you’ve prepared for every scenario, follow your script. “Congrats, Kira. Thank you, Mr. Richardson, please let me know if there is anything you need from me.”

His eyes tighten in concentration, more bad news about to be unleashed in my direction. “There is one thing. It’s actually a suggestion Kira made last night, and one which I had already been considering.”

“Uh, last night?” I’m the last one out of the office every night, last night being no different. Kira left at five-thirty and Mr. Richardson at seven.

“Yeah, I met some colleagues for drinks to celebrate the signing, and Kira and her friend just happened to be at the same bar.” He doesn’t even hear his own words. While I was sending him a dossier on why I’m the logical and prudent choice, really the only choice, she busied herself stalking him on the corporate shared calendar, ambushing him at the restaurant, and plowing him with liquor and flirtatious smiles. I know he’s a man, but I thought this account was more important to him than—I don’t finish the thought, not wanting to give it another second of my energy.

“We’re going to need Hans on the Claire account,” Garrett delivers the latest bombshell as intended, a fait accompli.

“He’s the top creative at the firm, Mr. Richardson. I have him on two of my accounts, we are...”

An emboldened Kira cuts off my protest. “Which is why it makes sense for him to be on the ballet account. Our best creative for our most important client. It’s what they deserve.”  

“And what do I tell my clients?” I direct my question at Garrett, twisting away from Kira, wishing she would disappear in real life as easily as she does from my view.

He takes a deep inhale. “You’ll figure it out, Rylee, you always do. I have a two-page report that confirms it.” He adjusts his tie. “Do it today. I know your vacation starts tomorrow. Have a good time.”

His mention of vacation gives me pause. It’s my first time off from work in over two years. My best friend, Gabriella, insisted. We haven’t had a chance to connect in almost a year, both of us sensing we are overdue.

She’s my best friend, my college roommate, and the one person on this planet who keeps me sane. She stayed in Chicago after graduation, taking a job with a local accounting firm, while I took my spanking new marketing degree to the big city of New York. We constantly text and talk to one another, but it’s been too long since we’ve spent time together.

We’ve been planning this vacation for the last three months, and it has been number one on my list of things to do for nearly as long. However, I wonder if my vacation has played into Garrett’s selection of Kira.

Before I can speak Garrett disappears through the door. I remain dumbfounded, not realizing Kira is staring at me with a shit-eating grin. “And that’s how you win an assignment. I bet your stupid checklist didn’t cover that.”

Gabby is the one who introduced me to the power of checklists. Of planning. Of preparation. The two years we shared a room in the dorms transforming me from an out-of-control mess to an organized professional. It’s so different from the approach to life I followed prior. An approach that would have looked much like the path Kira is following. With Garrett safely down the hall, I now flip Kira the appropriate finger.

She feints injury, hands pressed to her chest. “Ms. Excel has a little fight in her after all. I’ll have to let Hans know, over drinks of course.”

The old me would react. A disciplinary hearing with HR surely would have followed. But this is the new me, the mature Rylee. My eye roll is my best defense, Kira is not worth the energy of a confrontation. I give her my back and twist my phone to review my task list. It’s only mid-morning, yet half my list is already checked. I strike off the meeting with Garrett and then highlight in red the next item.

Checklists are my safe space. They help me tamper down my destructive, impulsive nature that has been buried in a cocoon ever since I destroyed the life of my best friend’s brother. It is my biggest regret in a life filled with them and to this day I attempt to force myself to be a better version of myself. It’s still a work in progress.

I review the next item on my checklist. Pat yourself on the back for landing the Claire Account. Now get to work.

My finger hovers for a split second before I tap the delete option. What’s done is done. I have less than a day to bring a new creative lead up to speed for two of my accounts. Life offers no time to dwell on the past. All we have is the next task, the next assignment, the next accomplishment to grab a hold of. It’s a lesson that was forced on me, one necessary to pull myself out of the rabbit hole of depression I tripped down four years ago.

I close my eyes and allow myself one final cleansing breath and leave the conference room. I had hoped for a different outcome but knew this was a possibility. One I’ve planned for. Back to work. One more day.

This vacation can’t come soon enough.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Two

Roberto

 

“Keep up. My god, those office lunch buffets must be catching up with you,” I joke and peer over my shoulder at my struggling younger sister, Gabriella. We are racing down a rocky mountain running trail near the Griffith Observatory in Los Angeles.

“Dumbass,” she pants and leans over, her hands landing on her knees. Sweat drips from the forehead down to her dust-covered Nikes. “I told you a light jog. You know I have that competition starting in two days. You are wrecking my training plan.”

I laugh and hand her my water bottle. Hers had gone empty half a mile back. “My sister comes to LA to visit me for the first time in forever, and you expect me to take it easy on you? We used to run trails much tougher than this back in Puerto Rico. You‘re losing it.”

She squeezes my bottle over the top of her head. The water running through her jet-black ponytail, dripping down to the appreciative dry ground.

“Way to waste my water. It’s still two miles to the bottom.” I take a deep inhale, enjoying being the irritating older brother for a second. These moments too few recently.

Her hands lower to her hips as she stares out to the valley. “Yeah, and only half a mile back to the top where we can catch a bus.” Her dark eyes flit up toward the top of the barren trail, the steep incline giving her pause. “When I researched the weather, it stated a high of only eighty-five, it must be damn near a hundred.”

“You must’ve have looked at LA county. It’s always hotter here in the valley, remember the city is built on a desert. You’d know that if you left your office sometime and experienced life firsthand.”

“Judgmental much, Roberto?” She nudges my shoulder and hands me back my water bottle. Her gaze locks on the trail ahead, and I can almost see the wheels turning in her head. I see the fight in her eye, it’s always there, a sight more spectacular than this panoramic view. “I guess I should thank you.”

“De Nada. Porque?” I ask why.

“After running with you it’s going to be a breeze running with Rylee.” She jogs past me, with a slow gait, eyes focused on the trail. I pause to appreciate her strength.

“You guys have a strange way of relaxing,” I prod her, my tone filled with sarcasm. “Five cities in four days. Who in their right mind pays five thousand dollars to be tortured and calls it a vacation?”

I pick up the pace, knowing she’ll match my stride. “It’s not a vacation. It’s a competition. And the first prize is a hundred thousand dollars. It’s enough to pay for Law School.”

“And I’ve told you before to just go. I’ll help you out with the school loans.”

“And what? Derail your dreams for mine? I won’t do that. I know you are saving to take a time off and travel the world and draw. It’s all you’ve talked about ever since...” she pauses, immediately aware of her misstep. “I’m sorry,” she begins to apologize for the thousandth time. But it’s not her apology to make. “Rylee never meant...”

I raise my hand to put the subject to rest. A lie I’ve carried for several years still protecting Gabby from the truth. “Can we for once just spend time as a family without her name coming up?”

We run in silence for half a mile, anger fueling my pace, guilt hers. Our breathing is synchronized, and my body begins to relax. The memories of so many moments like this comforting me. Me and my little sis out in nature alone conquering the world. We’ve always been the perfect team.

Her phone buzzes, breaking our cadence. It’s a good place to stop as the next leg involves a challenging decline with jagged rocks. “Take it. I have to check in with my office.”

I step to her, handing her the water bottle, close enough to see Rylee’s name flash across her screen. I take a deep breath and whisper, “Tell Rylee I hope she misses her flight tomorrow.” Gabby pushes me away, giving me her shoulder, and strides away in search of shade.

I shake my head. Rylee is trouble, and it’s no accident I live three thousand miles away from her. She and I have a complicated history, one that ended in ruin. I pull my phone from my jogging belt. I have three missed called from my boss. I dial him. “Hey Will, I just saw you called. What’s going on?”

Will Arenado heads up the portrait’s division of the largest art studio on the West Coast. Technically, he’s my boss. “I’m here at the Wentworth estate for the delivery of their portrait, and I’m not pleased.” Will is in his mid-fifties, always uptight and stressed. He manages the division like a warehouse inventory club. Everything is about numbers and volume. “Where the hell are you?”

I ignore his question; my movements are my own. I deliver for my clients, the rest of their rules can go take a flying leap. “What’s the problem? That piece is perfect, I spent double the hours to get it right.”

“You went off-book again, Roberto. This isn’t what the client signed up for. It’s supposed to be a simple, respectful portrait. One that future generations can appreciate. It needed to be stately, dignified. This. This is none of that.”

The condensation drips off his disapproving tongue and rolls off my sweaty back. If I had an ounce of respect for his opinion, his words might carry weight, but this man believes paint by numbers portraits constitute art. “Does Mr. Wentworth have an issue with the portrait?” I ask, already knowing the answer.

“Not yet. I’m still at the estate debating whether to have the installation team remove it before he arrives.” His voice trembles with fear, and I can’t imagine living like that every day for a thirty-year career.

“Well, like you remind me every day, the customer is always right. If he has an issue with it have him call me.”

“Wait a moment.”

He expects me to disconnect, it wouldn’t be the first time. But I give him the opposite, I give him what he’s asked for, my attention. “Yes?”

“Well, um…” I picture him in front of me, his hands flickering the ends of his too-short tie over his too-large belly. “We’ll have to talk about this behavior when I get back to the office. Where exactly are you again, and when will you be back in the office?”

“I’m sure we’ll have lots to discuss once Mr. Wentworth has seen the portrait.”

I hang up to see a smirking Gabriella staring at me. “I see you are still breaking all the rules.” She laughs.

“How much of that did you...”

Her beautiful smile disarms my concerns as she waves at me. “More than enough. Oh, by the way, Rylee says hello.” The humor in her voice fades with the mention of her best friend. I feel like a vindictive ass for carrying a grudge I should have outgrown years ago. It would have been a hell of a lot easier if I didn’t have daily reminders every time I looked down at the back of my hand. “She’s sorry she’s going to miss you tomorrow when she comes to town. I told her you had a work thing.”

My gaze floats down to the red clay dirt of the trail. I pull down the tip of my cap to block the harsh sun, there is nowhere left to hide. “You didn’t have to lie for me. I think she knows why I won’t be around, and if not, I’d be happy to remind her.” I don’t know why I don’t stop speaking. All the control I practice and pride myself on goes out the window with just the mention of her name.

“Are you two ever going to kiss and make up? At one point in time, you guys got along just fine. You taught her how to dance salsa for god’s sake.” Her hopeful eyes tell me she wishes things were back the way they used to be when we were all together in Puerto Rico four years ago. She doesn’t know everything that happened between me and Rylee.

I remind myself why I keep this secret from Gabby. Rylee is her best friend; the truth would jeopardize that. “Ancient history, mi hermosa. Let’s get back to it. We have two options—a flat, boring, dry, deserted, hot trail to our right that goes on for another mile and a half, or”—my back straightens, and I point to the left—“a challenging, rocky three-quarter mile trail that will leave you breathless, fulfilled, and happy. Do I even need to ask?”

Her warm hand lands on my shoulder, and she pushes past me on my left. “I hate you know me so well.”

I snicker. “Must be the blood.”

Chapter Three

Rylee

  

 

Of course, it had to be Zion. Of all the creative team members who are available as a replacement for Hans, it has to be the enigma known as Zion. Oil meet water.

I tap the end of my monogrammed Cross pen on the desktop and wait for Zion to get to the point. It’s like waiting for a dragonfly to pick a direction to fly. “I think Hans’ vision for the campaign is all wrong. I want to sit with it this evening on my deck overlooking the Hudson and have it speak to me. I must warn you; I may come in tomorrow and tell you I want to start over.”

I release the pen. It lands with a thud and rolls until it hits the edge of my laptop. “I won’t be here tomorrow. Hans is already at the thirty percent mark on the deliverables, we have a schedule to maintain. When I return, we will only have a week until the client walkthroughs. We don’t have the time, budget, or the resources to re-envision this or whatever the hell you are spouting.” My words land hard, harsh as intended. Kira may let the creatives wander free-range for weeks at a time on her projects, but I don’t. Every one of my projects are delivered on time and at or under budget. It takes a strong hand to deliver that level of consistency even if it’s not fully appreciated.

“Girl, we must have you come down to our design lab and loosen up. Here, I brought you something.” Zion is black, early thirties, and lives to annoy me. Today he’s wearing a gray hoodie with the sleeves cut-off and worn jeans with paint stains. He places a plastic bag full of Lego pieces on my desk.

I scoop them up and stuff them into my bottom drawer along with the five other design toys he’s offered in the past.

“Damn, you aren’t even going to humor a fella. You really do need that vacation.” Zion pulls out another baggie and rips it open, the Lego pieces spilling across the edge of my desk.

“Why? Just why Zion? Don’t you have enough on your plate already?” I hear the harshness of my voice. “I’m sorry. That was mean.”

“Mean left the station four comments ago.” Zion stacks a few pieces together. “That was downright rude. If I didn’t see you treat everyone like this, I might’ve taken it personally.”

“Wait, what? I don’t treat everyone like this. I just need you guys to focus.” My gaze lowers to his thin fingers working fluidly, the Lego pieces taking form.

“Focus comes in different shapes for different people. You need to expand your definition of productivity. Right now, you think we are just shooting the breeze, wasting time. Am I right?” His raised burrow challenges me.

I shrug. “I can think of about a dozen other things I could be doing. No offense.”

“If I took offense to the way you are I wouldn’t have volunteered for your team.”

“You volunteered? I thought...” I bite my tongue. I assumed the difficult to deal with Zion was sitting idle and available.

He nods. “It’s been a minute since we’ve worked together. I hoped it wasn’t by design. I kinda like watching your drill sergeant management style, you know, the whole bull in a china shop.” His smirks fail to hide the hint of laughter that slips out. “I love the sound of broken glass. But I did learn a thing or two from you last time. Hopefully, this time you’ll pay attention and learn from the team.”

My eyes tighten at the criticism. It’s covered in a Zion smile which eases the blow. He stands, pushing the Lego structure toward me.

“What is it?”

“It’s art. If I have to tell you then I’ve failed.”

I stare down at the strange structure. It’s unrecognizable.

Zion steps forward twisting it. “To appreciate art, you need to see all of it. Don’t just stare at it head-on, look at it from every angle. Look for the unexpected in a place you don’t expect. Open up your imagination and a world of solutions may appear.”

He steps back to give me space to process. I lift the delicate piece, turning it, hoping to see what he sees. It finally clicks. A smile sweeps across my face.

I lower the design to the desktop. “It’s two ballerinas, one has fallen and the second one is helping her up.”

A beaming Zion stands in the doorway. “My work here is done. You would have kicked ass on the Claire account. Enjoy your vacation, come back recharged, and let’s show them what they’ve missed out on.”

“Send me an email twice a day with the updates. I want to stay on top of this.” I feel the anxiety rising in my chest. Visions of the team playing hooky and hanging out in Washington Square Park all day fill my head.

“Yeah, I’m not going to do that.” Zion blows a kiss in my direction before disappearing down the hall.

I plop back into my office chair. That’s fine, I have a few spies on the administrative staff who will be more than willing to provide me with updates. I hold up the Lego structure and smile.

Maybe everything is going to be okay. My office line rings. I recognize the prefix but not the number. Los Angeles.

The second I hear his voice I know for the second time today bad news is on its way.

“Rylee, this is Roberto. I’m with Gabby at the hospital. There’s been an accident.”

 

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