“IS IT ME or was that lunch weird?’’ Brock asks as he takes a seat on the couch, splaying his long legs wide. He snickers and swings his head from side to side. “Your mother almost got us.’’
I scowl and go back to my big chair, ready to delve back into work. At this rate, I’d need to stay late tonight. “It’s not funny.’’ The leather creaks under me, and I swivel around to face the same mess I left on my desk. “Can you imagine if she ever finds out? Or your mother?’’ I shake from the violence of a chill creepily running down my spine.
“They won’t find out, Addy. It’s not like we’re being all googly-eyed for each other. We’re fucking, not declaring eternal love.’’ He tugs down the sleeves of his jacket and puts his hands behind his head.
“Nice.’’
“Don’t be like that.’’ He sighs. “It’s not like you feel anything for me aside friendship and sexual attraction.’’
I hold up the file my mother interrupted me from reviewing earlier and point at the door. “Listen, I have work to do and so do you, so go back to your office and stop trying to mess with me in front of other people. My mother is way less gullible than what you think. When she left, she looked at us with…’’ I trail off and groan.
“What? She can’t know, Addy.’’
“Believe me, she’ll keep an eye on us. She’s nosy and you know it.’’
He stands up, straightening his back and shoulders before he stalks to me, trapping me in my chair by putting his elbows on the back and his hands somewhere above my head. With his face so close, breathing the same air, my annoyance vanishes immediately.
“If you don’t smile or don’t let me kiss the hell out of you before I go back to my lonely and too quiet office, I’ll use my charm and fuck you on your desk. Files on the surface or not.’’
“You wouldn’t.’’
“Try.’’ He pecks my lips, his bow-shaped lips creating tingles going straight to a place I shouldn’t think about while at work. “Me.’’ He smirks against my lips and then nips on my mouth. I part my lips with a breathless gasp.
I forget that the door isn’t closed, that anybody could walk in and see us in this compromising position that would give a reason to the gossips going around Cox Company to travel faster and on a large-scale in our little world.
As I’m about to bring my hands into the game, he steps back, his chest heaving, his pants tight and his eyes glazed over. Resisting to his “fuck me or let me fuck you’’ look is so hard that I’m cursing my brain for being always so serious when it comes to working. Right now, all I’m craving is him and his touch and his kisses. All I want is to cry out his name and hear my name hoarsely tumbling out of his skillful mouth. But we can’t.
“It’s time for me to go before I do something you’d regret.’’
“Because you wouldn’t regret fucking me in the office while we’re supposed to be working? You’re just like me when it comes to your ethics.’’
“You’re my one exception in many areas of my life, Addy. Keep that in mind.’’ He adjusts himself in his pants, tugs on the collar of his dress shirt and grins before he walks out of my office while I’m a shaking leaf behind my desk, my panties soaked under my strict skirt and my lips still damp and tingling from his deep kiss.
“Miss Cox?’’ My assistant calls from the door, her thin eyebrows bunched in such a way that tells me she’s not going to deliver good news. What’s new?
“Yes? Another issue with the Fletcher account?’’ After all, these people are picky chickens always changing their mind and bitching because we can’t read what’s in their crazy mind. And the worse is that it’s not a big account! But I can’t exactly tell them to fuck off because they’re still paying us.
“It’s not the Fletcher account. Apparently, they’re quite happy with the last mockup.’’ She walks in and closes the door behind her. With her ballet flats, she can sneak up on you without you noticing. “Mr. Zann called and demanded a meeting with you immediately. I tried to stall him but—‘’
“He’s coming.’’ I sigh, massage my temples and ball a sheet of paper from the file I was reading before all this mess happened. “Shit.’’
My assistant jumps back at my outburst, something I rarely show. “Should I call back?’’
“No. Set up the meeting room.’’ I stand up and smooth out the wrinkles on my clothing while she scurries out, her short and shapely legs eating up the ground. I press a few buttons to call Brock’s office directly. It’s not the time to mess around, and we need to put our heads back in the game. He answers on the second ring.
“Already missing me?“ The smile in his voice pisses me off. Can’t he be serious anymore?
“Stop that bullshit, Brock. We’ve got an unexpected meeting with Mr. Zann. He called and he’s on his way. Send all the numbers you’ve got for his account. I’ll be in the first meeting room.’’
“Fuck. Do you know what he wants?’’ He asks. In the background I hear him typing on his computer, probably looking for the files before he sends them to my iPad.
I search around for it and then finally locate it under a pile of yet to be reviewed files. I check to see if there’s still some battery and find that it’s at eighty-eight. I silently thank my assistant because I never think about charging the damn thing.
“I have to go and check if the room is settled. Send those files to my iPad as soon as you've got them. Don’t make me look like an idiot, Brock. Zann is going to eat me alive otherwise.’’
He snorts darkly in the receiver and the hair on my neck stand up. “I’m sure that’s what he wants.’’
“Uh?’’
“Nothing. Go.’’
I don’t dwell on this and hang up before I power walk fast to the meeting room, taking the stairs instead of the elevator to go two flights down where our meeting rooms are and the legal department along with the Human Resources.
I nod at the employees hurling at me polite words and I dive in the meeting room ready with a few water bottles, the interactive screen linked to my iPad turned on and a few sheets of papers in case the visitors want to take notes. I sit in the chair at the end of the large table, right in front of the screen and yet far from the door, my only escape if things turn poorly.
Usually, I’m more confident, but with Mr. Zann, it’s different. Not only is he one of our biggest accounts and very influential, but he’s also young and quite intimidating. When I’m face to face with him I seem to need to be twice the professional I’m used to being, twice the controlling bitch I show in this building. I take a deep cleansing breath and force myself to relax, something that isn’t very useful because forcing something isn’t the solution.
Through the open door walks in Mr. Zann with his commanding presence and his domineering aura. With his light brown hair cut short and smart, his face bare of any hair and his blue icy cold eyes, he immediately sends my nerves on high alert. I stand up, my eyes glued to his as to not let out how nervous I am as I take in his thick eyelids swiping his high cheekbones and the blank mask on his gorgeous face carved in marble. That man is good-looking but somehow his behavior is quite the turnoff, and in fact, I classify him as creepy ever since the very first time I saw him three months ago.
On his tail, two other men walk in and stand behind their boss on either side of him. These men appear insignificant compared to the presence of Mr. Zann. They are both in their early thirties, both wearing fancy suits, but theirs has nothing on the navy blue tailor-made one Mr. Zann is sporting over his fit and tall body.
“Miss Cox, it’s a pleasure to see you again,’’ Mr. Zann says with an impersonal tone of voice. I ignore the knot in my stomach that tightens and instead grab his hand to shake it professionally and yet adding just a little more strength than needed.
“The pleasure is all mine, Mr. Zann.’’
He nods once. “You must remember my—‘’
“Your assistant Mr. Olson and the man at the head of your legal department, Mr. Wade. I remember you, gentlemen.’’ I shake their hands and wave at the chairs. “Please, take a sit.’’
I turn around and walk to the other side of the table where I left my iPad. Discreetly I check to see if Brock sent me the numbers on the Zann account and internally curse when I don’t see any new email from him. What is he doing? It’s not the time to bail on me.
“I’m afraid that my father isn’t available for this impromptu meeting,’’ I add seconds later once the three men are seated and their attention is solely directed at me.
Mr. Zann nods again and puts his cell phone on the few sheets of paper at disposition. “I read the newspaper and the business section mainly holds my interest. I’m aware Mr. Cox is in New York City for the next few days. But we both know who’s really running this company now.’’
In the corner of my eye, I see Mr. Olson and Mr. Wade’s lips twitch up before they school their expression as to not betray their amusement. Obviously, I’m not gifted enough to get what’s so funny about Mr. Zann. I tighten my grip on my iPad and force a smile on my face.
“Let’s cut to the chase, Mr. Zann. You and I are both busy. I’m not used to taking impromptu rendezvous with my clients unless there’s a significant issue to be addressed immediately. From what the team in charge of your account told me, their presentation last Friday was a hit. You asked for a few minor changes, but the mockup was to your liking. The other possibility for your presence would be because one of my employees did or said something they shouldn’t have, and even that I don’t think you’d have to be in Cox Company’s office to address the issue in person. Please, enlighten me.’’
Mr. Zann keeps his focus on me, detailing my face closely while his cold eyes don’t give anything away. Though, under his navy blue jacket, I can make out the tense line of his shoulders. And the way his employees are frozen on their chairs with their gazes glued to their boss tells me that they’re not used to seeing someone talk that way to him. If there’s one thing I learned early on it’s that as a woman with responsibility toward a company, you can’t play it safe and be partisan of a wait-and-see policy.
“And yet you’re here, Miss Cox. After all, I’m one of your biggest accounts from what I heard.’’
I laugh and sweep my hair over my shoulder in a demure move. “One of my largest accounts, but not the biggest, Mr. Zann. It doesn’t grant you free access to my time when, as you put it, I have a company to run.’’
Mr. Zann’s eyes become sinister, darker and yet they’re still of the same biting ice blue. It’s something that can’t be seen, but underneath that cool businessman person, there’s something too dark for me to handle. Hopefully, it’s a side of his that doesn’t leave the allotted time for his private life and doesn’t come out for some ugly fun during office hours.
“You should be more careful, Miss Cox. I may have signed with your company, but I’m not one to let things slide. I worked with your rival for the past five years, and I might as well find a loop-hole in your contract to go back to them. You’d potentially lose millions.’’
I bite my lower lip and assess the three men, taking the time to formulate what I want to say in my head. “Don’t play that kind of game with me, Mr. Zann. We both know that you signed with us because we have fresh ideas with young teams and because I don’t take gloves to tell you what works and what doesn’t and most importantly, why some things don’t work. If you want people there to curtsy and tell you everything you want to hear, then, by all means, go back to Llyod & Browman Ad. You’ll be happy, your ego will be stroked, and you’ll feed them millions while they’d produce has-been ads that nobody will remember and that won’t come close to reflecting your brand.’’
“Your reputation isn’t exaggerated, Miss Cox.’’ Mr. Zann then does something I never thought possible for his face usually so cold and blank. He smiles. It’s a tight-lipped one, but it’s still a smile that changes the severe look of his mouth to something more sensual.
“I’m pretty sure that the word bitch is among the qualifiers.’’ I gesture to the water bottles and the men all grab one in the same move. “So, now that we’re reacquainted tell me the reason behind this urgent meeting.’’
“Do you have our numbers?’’ Mr. Olson asks, cutting in before his boss could answer.
I blink at the interruption, finding it almost strange to hear his voice and to know that in fact, he can talk. I go to check my iPad again, silently praying for Brock’s professionalism when the meeting room’s door opens and Brock swaggers in. I gape at him, momentarily forgetting myself and the cool exterior I’m supposed to keep at all times.
His frown is deep and menacing as he takes in the three men lined in front of me on the other side of the large table. He goes straight to them and shakes their hands firmly before he comes to me and settles on the chair on my left. His iPad is clasped in his big hand. Discreetly he looks at mine and I immediately catch on. He sent me the numbers. I could kiss him senseless right now, both because he came through and because having him by my side when facing a man such as Mr. Zann is a relief.
“I didn’t know that you’d be joining us, Mr. Lowe.’’ Mr. Zann points out, without looking at him. He kept his cold eyes on me instead. As a result, I square my shoulders and focus on my iPad and on the numbers of the last quarter, showing how much the last campaign they ordered to our rivals failed tremendously. Just a cursory look at these numbers has me cringing on Mr. Zann’s behalf.
“I’m the one in charge of the finances of the company and I overlook and analyze our clients’ finances. It’s fitting that I’m helping out in case you have a precise inquiry regarding the financial aspect of your contract with us.’’ Brock’s leg is jumping under the table. I grit my teeth and fight off the urge to place a hand on his thick thigh to stop him. I didn’t know that Mr. Zann makes him nervous too because Brock is never on edge like this.
Both men face off, and I clear my throat, ready to break the tense silence that seems entirely out of place in a meeting room. Seeing that it has no effect on them, I decide to bring my attention back to the two abandoned men. “I have the numbers. I can see that the last quarter has been quite disastrous, but from my experience, the new campaign should increase your sales by roughly three percent.’’
“Which isn’t even close to the level of what my company is used to, Miss Cox. It won’t cover the additional costs of these campaigns.’’ Mr. Zann cuts in before his assistant could. He leans over the table, his elbows planted on the slick surface.
“We can’t work miracles either,’’ Brock charges in, his body strung tight. “Three percent is more than what any other companies in this field could ever guarantee you.’’
Mr. Zann’s mouth flattens some more as his eyes detail Brock with disdain. Then, he reports his attention to me. “I’m aware of that and that’s why I’d like your team to extend the campaign to something more global. My company needs a new branding, something young and fresh, something that would make us trendy instead of old and stuffy as we’re mostly seen now.’’
“You want a new contract?’’ I ask with a voice raised painfully high. I can’t exactly hide my surprise.
Mr. Zann smiles again at me and nods. “I’d like to sign a new contract with you, Miss Cox, a contract that would ensure me a prioritized work overviewed by you. I need this new branding in a month tops. I’m pressed for time, and my investors need reassurance.’’ He sits back in the chair, his back straight and his shoulders proud. “So, now can I access your time whenever I deem necessary, Miss Cox?’’
I tilt my head to one side and offer him my very first genuine smile. “Close enough, Mr. Zann.’’ I take a sip of my water. “Let me call our legal department and the team in charge of your account so we can draw up a contract for you and schedule our next meeting.’’
I grab my cell phone and call my assistant for her to summon all the employees we’ll need and for her to cancel my next appointments. But inside I’m boiling with pride at hooking the unattainable Mr. Zann which resulted with another huge contract, I feel Brock’s eyes burning me, and somehow I know he’s not sharing the same excitation at this new turn. I risk a glance in his direction and find his eyes switching from me to Mr. Zann in a glare. His soft eyes are nothing like the golden blaze I’m used to. His face isn’t the same relaxed expression. And his mouth, his mouth isn’t set in the sensual curves I often see.
He finally glances back at me and I’m sure he can see all the questions swirling in my eyes. He knows me too well no to, but he just shakes his head and toys with his watch, his knuckles turning a dangerous white.