When Sparks Fly: Love and Rockets Page 2

  And she could practice making a few demands for a change instead of quietly going about her business as usual. Where had that approach gotten her? Even the janitor had a better parking space than she did. She should ask for a new one, closer to her lab and free of mud, while she was at it. She hadn’t asked for anything in the three years she’d been with Frontier.

  In fact, Anna realized soberly, she hadn’t been in the habit of asking for what she needed, wanted or deserved, ever.

  Exactly the problem.

  Well, she was going to start asking. She was going to learn how to communicate, negotiate and delegate.

  While she was at it, maybe she’d take a short course in group dynamics, too. She needed every advantage to overcome the dual handicaps her looks and intellect presented. The unfortunate truth was that she made people uncomfortable. And in business, cooperation depended on a comfortable work relationship.

  Since she was the person with the problem, Anna decided, it was clearly her responsibility to learn how to put people at ease and to relate better. She couldn’t just go on not dealing with people because she didn’t know how.

  Besides, her life couldn’t revolve around staying absorbed in work forever. She’d wind up a lifeless old biddy, hunched over her worktable. One who spent every evening, weekend and holiday alone and had no friends.

  If it wasn’t for Jane, that would be true now.

  The outgoing brunette had taken her boss under her wing and dragged her out to movies on weekends. Her family insisted on including her for Thanksgiving and Christmas. Jane’s fraternal twin, John, had taken on a big brother role in Anna’s life and she knew if she’d asked him, he would have gone with her to the party and defended her from anyone who tried to pat her on either end.

  But she couldn’t lean on Jane and John forever. It wasn’t fair. She knew she was capable of mastering communication skills. Compared to rocket science, how hard could it be?

  When the salon had done all they could for her, Anna paid the bill without a single twinge and moved on to shopping.

  Her first step had to be the dress, she decided. Then she’d get the accessories and lingerie to match.

  It was easy to find the right dress, so much so that it amazed her. The very first formal shop that Anna went into, her eye went directly to the flame sheath.

  Anna moved toward the dress like a woman in a trance.

  It was absolutely perfect.

  The satin gown had thin spaghetti straps of delicate ribbon and a wonderfully low bodice. Sequins spangled the body of the dress. And lastly, it sported fringed trim around the hem in true flapper style that ended mid-thigh. It could have come straight out of the roaring twenties.

  She felt a thrill of acquisitiveness posses her.

  It was the most beautiful evening dress she’d ever seen and she had to have it.

  For once, Anna actively looked for a saleswoman. She easily found one, sporting the typical sales uniform of tailored navy specifically designed to make salespeople everywhere look like interchangeable cogs in the cosmic shopping machine.

  As if dressing salespeople like clones encouraged shoppers to trust their advice on fashion.

  Anna waved the woman over and indicated the dress. “I want to try this on.”

  When the saleswoman questioned her color choice and happened to mention her hair, Anna smiled dangerously. “Yes, I know it’s red. I want red. I love red.” She looked at the price tag and added, “Don’t you get a commission on sales?”

  Incredible. She was getting bolder by the minute. She was finally coming into her own and living up to her red-haired heritage. About time, too. She’d actually looked for a salesperson instead of avoiding one. She’d defended her choice in the face of disapproval, although it didn’t take much to overlook the wardrobe wisdom of a navy-suited contestant for Miss Invisibility. To her vast surprise and growing delight, she, Anna Leslie, had actually used a little financial strong-arming.

  Maybe there was hope for her.

  When she tried the dress on and got a look at her reflection in the three-sided mirror, her resolve deepened. The fiery color was the perfect foil for her hair. Wasn’t it her job to know colors? Out of all the subtle shades of red there were, some had to complement her hair. And this one did.

  Anna saw a stranger looking back at her. Sophisticated, poised and elegant. Confident and assured.

  She saw a woman who looked like she could do anything she set her mind to.

  It was a pleasure to buy the gown. For a stronger sense of confidence, she would have paid twice as much. She’d gotten a steal.

  From the formal wear shop, Anna headed to the lingerie shop and found a merry widow that matched the dress. She’d always worn traditional, plain underwear. But the new her, and the new dress, definitely called for bold lingerie.

  Feeling bolder by the minute, Anna chose stockings a flapper would have worn, thigh-high with a back seam. Feminine garters completed the costume.

  Now, she just had to find the perfect shoes.

  Anna marched into the nearby shoe store, waved down another navy suit and loudly requested the highest heels they had in a size ten.

  She was really getting good at this.

  After trying on several pairs of shoes, Anna finally settled on impossibly soft Italian leather pumps in the same shade as the evening dress with fragile three-inch heels. She would have worn higher heels, but she wasn’t used to them and they hurt her back with the enforced arch they produced.

  She figured she’d work up to those with practice.

  Anna towered over everyone in the shoe store when she tried them on and she loved it.

  She looked down at the helpful navy-suited clerk and said, “I’ll take these.”

  It was a lift in more ways than one.

  How long had it been since she’d experienced the psychological boost getting a beauty treatment provided? When was the last time she’d felt the heady joy of shopping for a special occasion and finding the perfect outfit?

  Far too long ago, evidently. As big a problem in its own way as not asking for what she wanted. Maybe her one-sided lifestyle had something to do with her lack of confidence. Her tunnel vision focus on work wasn’t healthy. She loved her work. It was challenging, exciting and rewarding. But she had other needs, other sides to her personality that had obviously been neglected for far too long.

  Well, it was never too late to start. From now on, she’d take better care of herself. Treat herself the way she deserved to be treated. All work and no play had made her a very dull girl. The time had come to play as hard as she’d been working.

  It was never too late to start, was it?

  Committed to the new Anna, whoever that might turn out to be, she practically skipped back to her sporty Miata, gloating over her purchases all the way.

  Lyle was going to choke when he got a load of her dress.

  Eldon in Accounting would probably faint.

  Anna could hardly wait.

  Meanwhile, she really did need some pointers on communication and assertiveness, and as a dedicated researcher the obvious answer was to go straight to an expert source. However, the source she’d consult would be the local bookstore.

  She really didn’t think she needed her head shrunk. She just needed some knowledge. Some expertise she could glean and put into practice.

  She didn’t think it should take her too long to learn what she needed to put into practice. She’d get some pointers and then set about mastering the techniques she needed to be more self-confident and assertive.

  Judging from today’s experiences, it was largely a matter of attitude, anyway.

  The bookstore offered all sorts of choices. Anna read through several titles and found her eye drawn to one about becoming a bad girl.

  Intrigued, she pulled it down and flipped through some of the pages.

  Amazing. It seemed she wasn’t the only one who’d suddenly gotten fed up with staying quietly in the background, nose to the grindsto
ne. Someone else had felt strongly enough to write a book about it.

  A smile tugged at the corner of her generous mouth. Well, why not? She was tired of doing the right thing and being good. But she’d been doing it for so long that she might actually need to consult a guide to badness.

  Anna tucked the book under her arm and looked at a few others. A book on the differences between men and women. Amen to that, she thought silently. Different as in possibly genuinely alien species. But if she wanted to improve her communication skills, she should learn something about how the other species worked.

  She felt certain that it wasn’t all that different from physics. Behavior was governed by a set of clearly defined laws. Cause and effect, for example. Once she knew the laws involved, she’d understand the causes and be able to predict and even direct the effect.

  Anna sorted through the rest of the selection and added a book on understanding body language to her stack.

  Well, that ought to cover the basics, anyway, even for a total recluse.

  Her shopping finished, Anna headed for home.

  Maybe Lyle’s arbitrary command had been just the challenge she needed to stir her to action. The invitation to the party was leading her to a whole new life. As such, it deserved to be celebrated with style.

  On a sudden whim, Anna decided to rent a limo for the occasion. Too much champagne and she’d need the driver anyway. It was the finishing touch to the feeling of Cinderella going to the ball.

  She thought of her fragile, beautiful new shoes and made a mental note to request a very large, strong driver. They were her glass slippers and she wasn’t about to slog through the mud in them.

  According to her watch, by the time she called for the limo and dressed she’d be just tardy enough to make a grand entrance.

  A very gleeful Amazon gathered up her assorted packages and headed into her townhouse. The message light on her answering machine was flashing and she pushed the playback button as she passed.

  Lyle’s nail-spitting voice crackled out at her in full lecture mode.

  “Dammit, Anna, what’s this Jane tells me about you being at some appointment? I told you, I won’t take that lame excuse this year. You be at that party or I’ll drag you there myself, do you hear? I don’t care if you have wisdom teeth, or an IRS audit, or purple spots from head to toe. You just show up. Why I have to make you get dressed up and have some fun, I don’t know. So help me—”

  Abruptly, the message reached its time limit and cut him off, which must have annoyed him considerably. He loved a captive audience and hated it when one managed to escape.

  A ripple of laughter escaped her. Well, that was one way to get around Lyle’s infamous lectures.

  He’d be surprised when she turned up, all decked out.

  Although knowing the man, he’d be certain that his thorough lecture was responsible for her appearance.

  Moments later, the limousine rental dealt with, Anna was still laughing in delighted anticipation as she went off to complete her fairy-tale transformation. Then she’d await the arrival of her pumpkin coach. Although at the rate they were charging her, if it quit after midnight somebody was going to hear about it.

  She had confrontation techniques to practice.

  Chapter Two

  When Anna walked through the door and made her entrance, it went better than anything in her wildest dreams.

  Every eye turned and clung to the vision in a symphony of flame. A magic prop would have spoiled the effect, she decided. The dress was a showstopper.

  And maybe a heartstopper. She hoped old Bill Whittaker had his bottle of nitroglycerine pills. He looked like palpitations were setting in again.

  She lounged in the doorway as if she’d been doing this all her life and reveled in the deafening silence as conversation stopped, glasses and forks froze in midair and the band took ten.

  Her cool violet gaze swept the room and settled on her prey.

  There he was, the blustering bag of wind, gaping at her with one of his disgusting cigars smoldering, forgotten, in his hand.

  Good. Maybe he’d set fire to his tuxedo. Then he’d be sorry he’d held her funding over her head.

  In fact, Anna decided as she began a graceful, deliberate stalk reminiscent of a leopard closing in on a gazelle, he’d be sorry anyway. She was going to get a better parking spot, more titanium and she’d think of something else, too. Make him send her to Disney World to watch the fireworks and take notes, maybe.

  She’d never been to Florida.

  She sashayed dangerously over to a completely flabbergasted Lyle Grant and crooked a finger through his bowtie.

  “I believe you wanted to dance.”

  Lyle just continued to stare at her with bulging eyes.

  “I believe I’ll call the tune.” Her musical voice was deadly with double meaning.

  Anna turned to engage the rapt attention of the band’s leader.

  “Fly Me to the Moon?”

  The man swallowed and answered hoarsely, “I’ll gift wrap it for you.”

  Then he got a hold of himself and the band swung into the classic tune.

  Anna floated around the dance floor with her paralyzed victim following her lead.

  She casually unwrapped the silk tie and toyed with the ends, using them to steer a dumbstruck Lyle.

  “You threatened my funding.” She regarded him steadily from the advantage of high ground and wondered why on earth she hadn’t capitalized on her height before. The heels added to the edge.

  Lyle didn’t respond.

  A silken flick on his cheek with the end of the tie punctuated her next statement. “That was naughty.”

  Lyle looked like he was on the verge of collapse.

  He really didn’t know how to take the sudden transformation, Anna realized.

  Laughing inwardly, she continued in a thoughtful voice, “Now you’re going to have to make it up to me.”

  She let him stew for a few minutes while she continued to waltz like Ginger in her finest hour.

  “Larry the janitor has a better parking spot than I do, Lyle.”

  She paused and let that sink in.

  “I want a new one. I ruined my Nikes today.”

  She tightened her hands in the narrow strip of silk until he was in danger of being garroted and murmured softly, “I love my Nikes, Lyle.”

  A strangled sound escaped him.

  She smiled sweetly.

  “I knew you’d understand.”

  Anna was getting into her bad girl role and having the time of her life. Why hadn’t she ever done anything like this before? For once she had the roaring Lyle Grant speechless. Helpless. On the receiving end of her kind of lecture.

  The sensation of power was a heady experience.

  She decided to take pity on the man. He was all bluster and underneath he was no match for her.

  Anna retied his silk bow carefully as they finished the dance, if it could be called dancing. “I’m thirsty. I need some champagne,” she informed Lyle. In parting, she brushed a kiss on his leathery cheek before strolling away in search of whatever other thrills and opportunities the evening held.

  Lyle remained rooted in place behind her. One hand slowly came up to touch the cheek her lips had grazed.

  To the sardonic eye of one observer, it was a very touching scene.

  “It looks like our fearless leader has annoyed that luscious armful,” Jay remarked casually to the group of fellow workers he’d just been introduced to before the bombshell made her explosive entry. The new vice-president of marketing sympathized inwardly with the man’s plight. He wouldn’t want the bombshell annoyed with him.

  He continued, “I predict he buys her a rock with more carats than Bugs Bunny eats in a year.”

  Instead of the expected laughter at his wisecrack, there was a derisive snigger or two and a choking, wheezing sound from the accounting manager at his right.

  “That’s—that’s Miss Firecracker,” the accounting manager, El
don, finally managed to say. He looked at Jay as if he’d just insulted the Queen Mother.

  “No kidding,” Jay drawled, eyeing the Amazon with the appreciative eye of a connoisseur. “She does look like one hot little honey, all right.”

  More sniggers met that remark, and induced more choking from Eldon.

  “Miss Firecracker, hmm? I don’t have to ask how she came by that name. It looks like she’s lighting up Grant’s nights,” Jay went on, encouraged. He could never pass up an opportunity to expose his wit.

  “He’s obviously carrying some torch,” he continued. “I hope there’s a fire extinguisher nearby.”

  He paused for the laughter to subside before he delivered his next line. “I don’t have to ask what position she represents. From here I’d say it looks like Female Superior. He’s a brave man to let a woman like that be on top.”

  Eldon interrupted his amateur comedy hour by tugging on his tuxedo sleeve hard enough to threaten the fabric.

  “Stop! She works for Frontier.”

  Jay laughed. “I bet she does! She looks like a woman who enjoys her work, too.”

  The innuendo had the sniggerers roaring. Eldon looked horrified.

  “No, she does,” he persisted. “She’s—”

  “A working girl,” Jay interrupted. “Say no more, my good man, I completely understand. A stunning representative of an old and honorable profession.”

  His dark eyes examined the fiery piece of work speculatively as she tipped back her head and drained a crystal glass of its sparkling contents.

  Maybe Grant’s loss would be his gain.

  “Since she seems a little put out with Grant, maybe she’d be open to another opportunity,” Jay mused out loud.

  Whatever the price, he was certain she’d be worth every penny. Miss Firecracker was incendiary with a capital I. Explosive. He could feel the heat from clear across the room.

  The stunning siren seemed to feel his predatory gaze.