Chapter 17
Bennett
“Annalise? So great to see you.”
The guy who had just walked into the room to join the meeting came around and hugged Annalise. I watched his hand travel to just above the crack of her ass as he wrapped his arms around her—debatable whether that would be considered appropriate for a colleague.
“Tobias?” She pulled back from the embrace. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m the new VP of Creative for Star Studios. I left Century Films and started here a week ago. I didn’t see your name on the agenda for today until this morning or I would have reached out earlier.”
“Wow,” she said. “Well, it’s great to see a familiar face. How have you been?”
“Good. Keeping myself busy at work. Still perfecting making wine on the side. First full crop came in last week at the little farm I picked up last year. I may have to call your parents for some tips.”
“That’s great. They’d be happy to help. You’ll have to share a taste when your first bottles are ready.”
I stood right next to Annalise, watching the entire exchange. While the sommelier, or whatever the fuck you call a winemaker, didn’t divert his eyes from the woman in front of him to notice me, Annalise suddenly remembered I was here.
“Oh. Tobias, this is Bennett Fox. Bennett and I work together at Foster, Burnett and Wren.”
I shook his hand and sized him up. Tall, not bad looking, shoes shined, a good firm shake.
“Nice to meet you, Ben.”
Normally I corrected people if they shortened my name to Ben, although never a client. Clients could call me dickhead for all I cared, as long as they gave me their business. But something about an immediate name-shortener always irked me. You aren’t my friend. I’m not calling you Toby and asking you to go out for a beer. We just met. It’s Ben-nett…the extra syllable doesn’t cost you more.
“Why don’t we have a seat? I think everyone is here,” he said.
I waited for all the ladies in the room to take a seat, but apparently that was a little too long. Because before I could sit in the chair next to Annalise—you know, to show a united corporate front—Tobias put his hand on the back of the chair in front of me and pulled it out for himself.
Not wanting to cause a scene, I moved to the next available seat, which happened to be on the other side of the table.
The VP of Production kicked off the meeting, giving a thorough overview of the company’s business goals and target audience. I took notes as he spoke and, for the most part, tried to pay attention. But every once in a while, I’d look over at Annalise. Twice now Tobias had been whispering to her while she took notes. The conference table was probably about four feet wide. It made me want to find out if I could reach him with my foot under it.
After the formal presentation ended, each of the Star staff went around and added something. When the floor went to Tobias, he should have kept quiet because he didn’t have anything of substance to add. Apparently, the guy just liked the sound of his own voice saying meaningless buzzwords. And to have an excuse to touch Annalise.
“So I’m the new guy here at Star, obviously. And the team has done a superb job today of laying out not only who we are, but the brand we foresee ourselves to become in the future. One thing I can add is that synergy is important. Our logo, our marketing message, our team, our strategic alignments—they’re just the ingredients to bake a big batch of cookies. Leave out the pinch of salt or the chocolate chips and what do you get? Probably still a cookie—but it won’t be as delicious as it could have been. Cohesiveness is the name of the game, and the campaign that wins our hearts will be the one that mixes well with everything else to bake the best cookie.”
Womp womp womp. Cookies. Womp womp womp. More cookies. That’s what I heard.
He droned on and on, saying nothing really, until he finally concluded with a nod to Annalise. “I’ve worked with Wren before, and so I’m confident they have the ability to think big and think outside the box to come up with something great.” He touched her arm. “We just need to give Annalise and her team the right baking list, and she’ll come back with the tastiest batch of chocolate chip cookies we’ve ever eaten.”
Annalise and her team. Great. What a dick.
After the meeting was over, Tobias volunteered to give us a tour of the production lots. He offered his hand for Annalise to get into the front seat of the golf cart before walking around to the driver’s side. I was relegated to the rear-facing bench seat and had to strain to hear him point shit out as we drove.
After four hours of meetings and being shown around by the president of Annalise’s fan club, the three of us went back to his office to talk. By then, his familiar touches had amped up in frequency, and I felt my face burning.
“So what else can I do to help you hit this out of the park?” Tobias looked only at Annalise when he spoke, even though the three of us were sitting at a small, round table.
“I’d love for us to sketch out some rough logo designs and run them past you informally before we get going too far down the road on our full branding pitch to the group,” she said.
Tobias nodded. “Done. Send over anything you want me to take a look at. Better yet, come on back down, and I’ll arrange a lunch with some of the key players and see if they could give you an early feel.”
“Wow. That would be great.”
I felt the need to contribute something. Or maybe remind him that I was in the room. “Thanks, Tobias. That would be great.”
He acknowledged me with a polite smile and returned his attention to the woman next to him. Again, he touched her arm. “Anything for Anna.”
Annalise caught me staring where his hand rested and quickly moved her arm.
Holy shit. That’s a guilty face. Did she fuck him? Here I was thinking the guy was just a regular run-of-the-mill asshole who takes advantage of his position. But there was something more going on here.
The two of them spent a while talking about crap they did together at his last studio. Of course, I couldn’t contribute to that conversation either, which might have been the point. Luckily, Tobias’s assistant eventually knocked to interrupt and remind him he had a conference call soon.
“See if you can push it back, will you, Susan?”
I wanted to get the fuck out of this office. I stood. “That’s alright. You’ve been so generous with your time. We don’t want to overstay our welcome. Right, Annalise?”
Her brows drew down. “Umm… Of course. Will you be at dinner tonight?”
“I wasn’t planning on joining, but I’m going to see if I can move some things around to make it after all.”
I forced a fake smile. Fuck off. “Great.”
After Toby boy got another hug, Annalise and I walked to the parking lot in silence. It felt like a giant knot had taken root at the back of my neck. I opened her car door and our eyes met for a brief second. My face remained stern.
If I spoke right now, I’d definitely explode. We had a few hours until our dinner tonight, so I’d need to hit the gym for an hour or so to help blow off some of this steam—maybe two hours.
After she folded inside, I shut the car door with moderate success at not slamming it hard enough to come off the hinges.
The minute the ignition started, I put the car into drive and began to move through the lot without programming any directions.
“Do you know how to get to the hotel?” Annalise asked.
“Nope. Why don’t you figure it out and direct me, considering you’re the boss.”
Annalise frowned. “What did you want me to do? Correct the client in the middle of his presentation? You know that would be unprofessional.”
“Not half as unprofessional as encouraging the client to paw you.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?”
Annalise wasn’t much of a curser, so I knew before getting a look at her red face that she was pissed. Which was fine. That fucking made two of us.
“He’s friendly because we worked together before. He’s also happily married, not that I need to explain anything to you.”
“You can’t really be that naïve, can you? To think that a little thing like being married makes a shit of a difference to some men?” I paused, although I should have just ended my rant there. “Oh wait. You can be that naïve. You’re the same woman who thought meeting an ex at a hotel wasn’t for a booty call.”
If I’d thought her face was hot with anger before, I was wrong. The red shade deepened to a near purple. She looked almost as if she’d been holding her breath. For a half second, I considered getting out of the car for my own safety.
“Stop the car,” she demanded. “Stop the damn car!”
I came to an abrupt halt.
Annalise unbuckled her seatbelt and whipped the car door open. We were still in the parking lot, and at least there were no other cars or people around to watch as she got out, started to pace while flailing her hands in the air, and shouted about what a dick I was.
Maybe I was a dick. In fact, I knew I was. But it didn’t make what had gone on between the two of them all afternoon any less acceptable. So I left her out there to stew while I did my own grumbling inside. After about fifteen minutes, she waltzed back to the car, got in, and buckled her seatbelt.
“Drive to the hotel. We have to pretend to be friendly in front of the client at dinner tonight. But there’s zero reason to be nice right now.”
I restarted the car. “Fine by me.”
***
One hour didn’t help. Two did nothing but make my arms and calves ache.
Not even a half-hour power nap and shower with steaming hot water and a massager setting helped me relax. Every muscle in my body was still tense.
As fucked up as it was, I was not dreading dinner. In fact, I looked forward to it. I couldn’t wait to see how Annalise acted after I’d called her out on whatever was going on with that dick.
At quarter to eight, I went downstairs to the bar where we were meeting the crew from Star Studios in fifteen minutes. I was glad our dinner plans were at the restaurant in our hotel so I didn’t have to drive and could have a drink or two. God knows I needed it.
The VP of Production and the head screenwriter were already seated at the bar. They extended a friendly welcome.
“What are you drinking, Bennett?”
I glanced at their glasses, both filled with amber liquid. “I’ll take a scotch.”
The VP patted my back. “Good choice.” He turned and ordered another of whatever year and brand the two of them were drinking and swiveled back to me. “We did all the talking today. Tell me a little about you.”
“Alright. Been with Foster Burnett going on ten years, started out as a graphic artist and worked my way up to creative director. I spend too much time at the office, try to play a little golf on the weekends, and my assistant hates me because I once ate her peanut butter and jelly sandwich from the refrigerator when I was on deadline and working at midnight.”
The last part got a laugh. It was funny to say, and I assumed they thought I was exaggerating. It just wasn’t funny that she actually hated me.
“Graphic artist, huh? Do you still draw?”
“Does doodling while I’m on the phone with my mother count?”
The men’s laughter was interrupted by a woman’s voice. “Bennett here is just being modest. He’s quite the artist. You should see some of his work—especially the cartoons he creates. He has quite the vivid imagination.”
I turned to find Annalise—wearing a blue dress that fit her body and made her tits look fantastic, yet somehow was still appropriate business attire. She looked gorgeous. It almost made me forget the little war we were having, and that she’d just attempted a dig at me for my sexy cartoon doodles.
I sipped my drink. “Speaking of modest...when it’s Annalise’s turn to tell a little about herself, don’t let her forget to mention her car hobby. She can take apart a car like no one’s business. Hell, on her second day at the new office, she took care of a windshield wiper problem I didn’t even realize I’d had until the day before.”
Annalise maintained the broad smile on her face, but I caught the little shiny daggers she shot my way from the slight squint of her eye. I beamed my pearly whites right back, only my amusement wasn’t fake. I enjoyed screwing with her. I could’ve gone on all night like this, trading barbs dressed as compliments. It did more in two minutes to relieve the tension I’d felt than hours at the gym and a shower had done.
After a few more exchanges, where she disguised a knock about my dating life as being dedicated to my work, and I hit her with a knock about her being naïve disguised as her being open-minded, my neck loosened for the first time all day.
Although the pain returned less than five minutes later when her buddy showed up.
“You made it,” I said.
I watched his eyes do a quick sweep over Annalise before answering. “It was too important to not make it happen.”
Yeah. Sure.
Within a few minutes, the rest of our party had joined us, including the board member who was friendly with the VP at Star and had gotten us the invite to come today and pitch for their business. We moved our discussions to a table over dinner, and I wasn’t surprised to see that somehow Annalise and Tobias managed to sit next to each other again.
Although I was lucky enough to be seated next to the board member who would soon decide where the hell I lived, I couldn’t focus enough to take advantage of the opportunity to properly talk him up. Instead, I found myself scrutinizing every gesture between the happy-looking couple sitting across from me.
The way she threw her head back to laugh when he said something that was supposed to be funny.
The way her mouth moved when she talked and her tongue wiped the remnants of wine from the top of the glass each time she took a sip.
The feminine way she dabbed the corners of her mouth with her cloth napkin.
The way the asshole kept touching her arm and bumping shoulders with her.
By the time we made it to dessert, I’d started to have trouble coming up with anything to say and mostly kept quiet. The fun I’d felt at the beginning of the evening was long gone, and I was anxious for the night to end.
When it finally did, we all stood around in the hotel lobby saying our goodbyes. Annalise waved one last time as the entire Star team exited the hotel, and then it was just the two of us. The smile she’d been sporting immediately morphed into an angry face.
“You are the most unprofessional person I’ve ever met!”
“Me? What the hell did I do?”
“You spent all night giving me the evil eye and glaring at Tobias.”
“Bullshit! I did not.”
She stilled for a moment and studied my face. “You’re serious, aren’t you? You really don’t even realize what you were doing.”
“I wasn’t doing shit.”
This woman was nuts. Maybe I’d been quiet, way less social than I’d normally be, but she was also sitting across the table from me.
“You were sitting in my line of sight. Where the hell did you expect me to look?”
“You were pouting and stewing like…like…you acted like a damn jealous boyfriend.”
“You’re nuts.”
“You’re impossible to work with.” She stormed off before I could say anything more, heading to the elevator.
I stood there a moment, trying to figure out where the hell she’d gotten me acting like a jealous boyfriend from. My adrenaline had spiked, and I knew there was no way in hell I was going to be able to sleep. So I decided to head back to the lobby bar and have a little liquid sleep assistance.
***
“You acted like a damn jealous boyfriend.” Her words kept swirling around in my mind, along with copious amounts of ten-year-old scotch.
After two drinks, I was definitely calmer. But I couldn’t shake everything that had gone down tonight. Things had started out well enough—the blue dress, her great tits. I’d been pretty composed when she arrived, even after our blowup in the car this afternoon. Watching her talk, watching her laugh, seeing the man sitting next to her stretch out and rest his arm around the back of her chair during appetizers. I couldn’t see his hand, but I imagined him trailing a finger along her back, thinking no one would be the wiser.
Except me. I knew.
I rattled the ice around in my glass and then gulped back the rest of my drink.
That fucking finger.
I wanted to break it.
How dare that bastard touch her?
The thing that crossed my three-quarters-of-the-way-to-drunk mind next seemed to come out of nowhere.
Keep your hands off my girl.
What the fuck?
Come again?
I laughed to myself, trying to shake off the ridiculous thought. It’s the alcohol talking.
Had to be.
Right?
Or…
Fuuuuuuck.
My head fell back against the top of the bar stool, and I stared at the ceiling for a minute, lost in thought. Everything started to click into place at rapid speed.
I shut my eyes.
Shit.
I was acting like a jealous boyfriend tonight.
But why?
The answer should’ve been obvious, even to someone as thick-headed as me. But it took two more drinks and until the bar started to close down to mull it over some more.
Once I’d figured it out, I decided to do something stupid…