Chapter Three

Beth

My chair and computer are angled perfectly to my door. Anytime someone walks in, I don’t have to twist, scoot, or lean in any way to see them. I just have to look up. And that’s exactly what I’ve been doing every single time a person walks by my door. Not a one stops in, but the movement keeps drawing my gaze, and it’s driving me insane.

I’m not waiting for anyone to greet me. I’m not expecting anyone to come in here and want my opinion right away. However, it would be nice, considering Ann and Sam from HR are the only people I have met so far. I know she said I wouldn’t meet the guys I’m working with—or against depending on how you look at it until this afternoon’s meeting, which is … I click the side of my phone till it lights up with the time—exactly five minutes from now. Aside from the part where I have to be introduced to everyone, I’m eager to be assigned my first project. I’ve done nothing this morning but fill out the typical new hire paperwork. Harassment rules, insurance information, retirement plans, dress work standards. This is definitely the least fun/cool part of the job.

“Hey, Beth, do you want to walk to the meeting together?” Ann asks, poking into my office, leaving only her head and left shoulder visible.

“Yes,” I answer and stand, straightening my skirt and blouse. I grab the notepad she gave me earlier and a pen.

Both Sara and Kelsey are going to go out of their minds with excitement over my new job. We’re all living the lives we talked about as little girls, Sara owning her father’s bar and turning it into a small chain across Wyoming and Colorado now, Kelsey writing her heart out as a bestselling author of supernatural romance, and now me, the marketing girl.

I can’t tell you exactly how I fell in love with marketing, but it had something to do with the fact I watched TV more for the commercials than the actual shows. Skip-It commercials hooked me—kids laughing and skipping one leg at a time, the ball at the end lit up in bright colors. I begged my parents to get me one every night when that commercial came on. Just that thirty-second clip excited me. Eventually, I got a Skip-It for Christmas and I loved it, but then the next cool toy came on television and I was sold. Both on the toy and on what I wanted to do when I grew up. Showcasing something so that every time its name is even mentioned, you smile and think, “Yup, I need to have that.” I want to give that to people.

The conference room is at the end of the hallway. It’s in a large room on the corner of the floor, leaving two walls filled with floor-to-ceiling with windows. The view over the town is incredible. Even though the building is on the outskirts of the eastside of Wind Valley, away from where I live and the bar, I can still see the trees that make up the park in the center of town. Wyoming is such an eye-catching bright and green place. I can’t ever imagine living in a big city and not having access to this type of beauty every day I walk out my front door.

A long table filled with chatting employees sits in the middle of the room. The plush large chairs surrounding it, at a glance, look as though they could seat about thirty people. I follow Ann down the side near the window, nodding and smiling at those already seated as we pass. The door clicks closed loudly just as I take my seat.

“I apologize for my tardiness,” the man says. I glance up to the clock. He’s right on time. I know right away this is Bart Mitchell. His short trimmed white hair and mustache match his online photo perfectly. Right down to the scar above his left eyebrow. Unfortunately, I didn’t get to interview with him because his schedule was too busy around that time. He can’t be much under six feet tall. His suit is a bit snug on his large frame, but something about the way he holds his shoulders back as he scans the group in front of him brings my focus to his eyes. The way they narrow hints that he’s waiting for everyone’s full attention.

“Although we are waiting on a couple more, let’s get started,” he says.

Everybody adjusts in their seats to face the table, pens in hand, ready to take notes. I do exactly as they do.

“First, let’s start by welcoming Beth Moyer to the group. She’s just finished her master’s in marketing, and today she has begun her trial period with Mitchell Marketing along with Maverick and Austin, who everyone already knows. Beth, would you come up here?” He holds out his hand, even though I’m obviously too far to grab it. I stand, unsure of why I have to get up. I’m clearly the only new person here. But I do it anyway, with a smile. So far, so good.

I hold that smile as I walk back down the row of people. My lips are almost shaking with how hard I’m trying to hold the smile. Then the door opens and everyone looks away from me. I follow their gazes to welcome the distraction.

Everything happens in slow motion. My smile falters then my step does, but I’m still walking. My eyes are wide, and my heart is beating at a lightning pace. I can’t peel my eyes off the door.

Fuck.

There, standing in front of me with the biggest grin I have ever seen on a man, is my “almost”one-night stand. I can see his smile and I can see him waving; it’s when his lips start moving that I blink.

“My apologies for being tardy,” he says, directing his attention to Mr. Mitchell.

Holy shit. What is he doing here? I was in Colorado, not here last weekend.

“I’m glad you could join us, Maverick,” Mr. Mitchell greets him. “There is a seat in the back next to Miss Moyer here. I’m just doing a quick introduction before we begin.”

This is Maverick, the one I share an office with? You have got to be fucking kidding me.

Maverick brushes past me, never taking his eyes off mine. He even turns to walk backward as he makes his way to his seat, and dammit, I’m twisted around now, watching over my shoulder.

Shit.

I am so totally and completely screwed.

“Miss Moyer.” Mr. Mitchell’s booming voice is finally able to pull me out of the daze I’ve fallen in. “Why don’t you tell us a little bit about yourself?”

I look out at the pairs of eyes now focused on me. My eyes dart immediately to one set and I have to force myself to look away before I can speak.

“My name is Beth Moyer,” I begin, and cringe when my eyes find his again. “I moved to Wyoming at a young age.” Maverick leans back in his chair, resting one ankle over the other knee as he watches me. The smug smirk on his face ignites something inside me. Just because I tried to sleep with him doesn’t mean I have to get all tongue tied over it. I am here for my job and nothing else. Five minutes of distraction is all he gets. From this moment on, he gets nothing from me.

“I graduated from the University of Wyoming Online with my master’s in marketing. I have an intense drive for success, and I believe that all ideas can be made into something that can make history. I have confidence in Mitchell Marketing to encourage me to make those ideas happen for not only myself but those around me. Failure isn’t an option for me, and I enjoy helping others whenever I can, so please, know my door is open to anyone for any reason.” I nod, dismissing myself back to my seat before I’m asked to say more.

Luckily, Mr. Mitchell doesn’t comment on my self-introduction. Instead he thanks me and goes straight into business. It’s the best meeting ever, minus the part where Maverick and I spend most of the hour stealing glances. He with amusement and me with frustration.

Finding a one-night stand was officially the worst idea I’ve ever had, and my morning pep talks are about to have a whole new meaning.

Maverick

I’m a confident man. I do the research, I put in the time, and I make sure my facts are on point. Yet the biggest challenge I think I’ll ever face at this company is sitting right next to me. As if thinking about her nonstop for the last three days wasn’t bad enough. I was thankful to get here this morning for a distraction, ready to regain my focus where it needs to be, but now she’s here. She’s a coworker who will work directly with me. In the office right next to mine. I’ve thought about women before, but never has one captured my attention the way Beth has. There is a chance that this offer to redeem myself just got a little harder.

I’m not some sap who believes in fate, but fuck if her showing up today doesn’t make me start. Maybe my mom had been on to something with her “meant to be” crap. The only downfall now is that we work together. I clearly know better than anyone else how dating a coworker or someone closely related to the business can set you back. And if I don’t choose my actions wisely, Beth could be the biggest setback of all.

Fuck.

When the meeting is dismissed, my uncle asks me to stay behind to have a word. I want to tell him that I’ve heard it all already and that I don’t have time to be reminded of my mistakes once again, but my father wouldn’t like that. As much as I don’t want to admit it, if my father believes working under my uncle is the right move right now, so do I.

When Jeremy, the last employee to leave the conference room, is out of the door, my uncle turns to me. He flicks back the sides of his jacket, placing his hands on his hips as he pins me with a hard stare. His nostrils flair just barely and a wrinkle forms between his eyes.

“Do not mess this up.”

He’s referring to a whole lot more than just work with those five words.

“I won’t.”

“Maverick, I mean it. I want to help your father out, but you have to be willing to do the same.”

“I am. It’s going to be fine.” My attempt to reassure him does nothing.

“You’re going to be sharing an office space with Ms. Moyer. Is that going to be a problem?” he asks.

“No,” I answer quickly and confidently. The way he and my cousin talk to me, you’d think I’d slept with the whole goddamn company.

“She could have picked a job anywhere, but she chose here. Don’t give her the impression that she made the wrong choice.”

I hold back the groan struggling to break free. Being reminded of this one situation is getting old. I’d tell him that, too, but as my superior, that move wouldn’t end well for me and it sure wouldn’t show my father I’m taking responsibility for what I did.

“Whatever happened between the two of you when you walked into this room needs to end here, too,” he says.

“Whoa, she hasn’t even been here five minutes.”

“I don’t care. I’ve seen that look only once before. I better not see it again.”

“What look? When?” I ask, confused and not exactly sure we’re on the same page at the moment.

His brow rises and his head tilts right as he hits me with a stern look.

“You can trust me,” I say, my voice strong as I return the gaze. “My goal is to move myself and the company forward, not back, sir.”

Neither of us moves as we face each other. This happens a lot with my dad, too. Only then, it’s the worst seconds of my life while my father tries to decide whether or not he believes me.

“I’ll meet you all in Beth’s office in ten minutes to go over a few things. The rest of what I’d like you to complete in the next few months will come in an email by the end of the day.” He nods, looking past me. I turn to see Austin with a satisfied grin. It’s like working with a teenager who just wants to stand around and cause drama.

Against my better judgment, I head straight for my office. I close the door behind me and then proceed to open the one that leads to Beth’s. Her hair falls over her shoulder when she quickly looks up. She’s writing something at her desk. I’m curious as to what it is since we haven’t started on anything yet.

I reach her door and close it, too. I twist to face her and find her making her way around her desk. Her hands fidget with her skirt. She’s smoothing it out, but all I see is the curve of her ass better than before. I’m a little taken back at how quickly she is walking toward me, a determination in her eye that only confirms that what I feel toward her is matched all the way.

I reach to stop her so I can tell her that what happened over the weekend can never be mentioned or reenacted—I think she is planning that right now—because my job depends on it, but she dodges my touch, moving for her door instead. She opens it, wedges the stopper into place, and then glares at me before returning to her seat.

“Don’t ever come into my office and close my door without my permission.”

I may have misread her actions just now. By a lot.

“We need to discuss business,” I say and begin to remove the doorstop. She jumps from her seat.

“We can do that with the door open.”

“Okay, we also need to discuss a few other things,” I say. Her flustered tone makes me want to laugh. Which kind of makes me a dick. Or, really, I’m sure it does since I shouldn’t find her frustration attractive.

“We have nothing to discuss.” She practically kicks the rubber wedge under the door. “And please, leave my door open.”

“All right, the door stays open.” I can’t help but smile.

It can’t be a good trait to know that just being near her, even though she clearly wishes I weren’t here, which, ironically, is what I should want, puts me in one of the cheeriest moods I’ve ever had.

I take a seat across from where she sits behind the desk. Of course, she hasn’t looked up. It’s a clear sign she wants me to go, but let’s face it, that isn’t going to happen anytime soon. We were just given the TACM 110.4 Music to the Max radio station account. Spending time together, a lot of time, is a given at this point.

Since she isn’t looking at me, I take this moment to observe her. I can’t decide who is sexier: the laid-back, torn jeans, and t-shirt Beth with perfectly messy hair and an attitude that lets a man know he’s in for a tough time or sleek, dressed up Beth with heels and shiny, straight hair who now full of determination. I find both very intriguing and attractive. But we’re strictly work buddies. It’s my only option.

“I’m glad to see you here,” I say. “I…”

“I don’t think your girlfriend would like you making that comment,” she cuts me off, still not looking up.

“That wasn’t my girlfriend. It was my sister. I don’t have a girlfriend,” I say, grinning as I wait for her response.

She continues to focus on her desk, but I see the way she bites her bottom lip.

“I suppose …”

“Of course you’re already in here,” Austin says, strutting into Beth’s office, narrowing his eyes at me and taking the seat next to mine. “I’m Austin.” His attention is already on Beth. “The boss’s son,” he adds like it should explain everything about him. He doesn’t even offer to shake her hand.

“A pleasure,” she responds, leaning back in her seat. Her gaze flickers between Austin and myself. I’m smiling because this is a good sign that her spitfire attitude isn’t just for me. Working with her might be more fun than I expect.

“Perfect, you’re all early,” Bart says, closing the door behind him. Beth and I both straighten in our seats while Austin continues to look bored.

“As you know, you are going to be working with TACM on their new marketing plan,” he repeats. “This is going to be more than a six-figure contract if you can finalize the deal. I’ll be observing the three of you closely.” He pauses, something catching his eye. Austin is sitting next to me, drawing on his notepad. I’m surprised he even brought one. “I’ll be watching your ability to work quickly and efficiently. The way you represent the company. How you work together in a team environment as well as individuals,” Bart says, clearing his throat. Austin looks up. “That means all of you. Teamwork is supported greatly here, so I’d suggest working as a team for the pitch. However, if you decide to divide the project, you can decide responsibilities among yourselves.”

Beth is scribbling quickly on her notepad.

“Unfortunately, we can only keep one of you at the end of the trial period. I wish you all the best of luck. Your first piece of the project should be in your inbox as we speak. Enjoy the rest of your day,” he says and leaves.

Beth speaks up first. “I think we should give the teamwork thing a try.”

“I agree,” I say.

“I’ll probably be better off without the two of you,” is Austin’s reply.

“I understand, but perhaps we should give the first task a try as a whole, and if you feel it doesn’t work for you, then we can split it,” Beth suggests.

“Whatever. I’ll be in my office—let me know what you want to do first,” Austin says before leaving.

“I sense working with him is going to be a blast,” she says, and I chuckle.

“You have no idea. I’ll go read over the email and message you my ideas.”

“Great.”

I head for the adjoining door, pausing to look over my shoulder.

She stares right back at me. She doesn’t say anything and neither do I.

The word interesting just took a whole new meaning at work.