Chapter 2

Her introduction to her future client didn’t go exactly as planned. Nearly tackled by the African American man she’d seen on the television the day prior, Naomi had to dart off the stairs into the hallway to avoid being flattened, only to run into him somehow ahead of her.

“Twins,” the new guy offered with a gorgeous smile. “I’m Lafayette, the better-looking one.”

Sexy twins with muscles and a sense of humor. She could sell that.

“Sorry about that. I didn’t see you there.” The guy behind her put down the huge box he’d been carrying and joined her in the second-floor hallway with his brother. He sheepishly held out a hand. “Hector Jackson.”

Since he’d been carrying a box she wouldn’t have been able to lift let alone see beyond, she forgave him. “No problem. I’m Naomi Starr. I’m looking for the Vets on the Go! office.”

“That’s where we’re heading. Come on.” Lafayette motioned for her to follow him down the corridor. The warehouse had a large office on the ground floor that had been closed for repair, directing foot traffic up the stairs. She passed a watch repair company and a computer repair shop on the right, and on the other side of the hallway a small specialty clothing store that didn’t seem to belong. The building itself stood in a decent enough location in northwest Seattle, and she liked what she’d seen thus far.

But as she walked down the hall, she heard raised voices and a lot of swearing, no doubt coming from the open door on the left.

Next to her, Hector cringed. “Ah, that’s just Cash and Reid, um, discussing some stuff.”

A deep voice accused, “You can’t not hire someone who’s qualified just because she’s a woman!”

Oh, Naomi wanted to hear this.

“Bullshit. You told me I’m the one doing the interviewing. So butt out.”

“Ah, excuse me,” a husky, feminine voice cut in. “Do I get a vote?”

“Yes.”

“Hell no.”

“I think I’ll see if I can help,” Lafayette murmured. “Naomi, Hector will take you to the main office.”

“Sure.” She followed Hector slowly, wanting to hear more from the open doorway.

As she passed, she caught a glimpse of the big man she’d seen yesterday on camera—Cash Griffith. Next to him stood a slight woman who looked vaguely annoyed, and facing the pair, Naomi caught the back of yet another giant. The Reid who’d been mentioned. Likely Reid Griffith, the other owner.

Naomi stood five foot eight, five eleven in her power heels, yet in this place, she felt small. Especially following Hector, who wasn’t so much tall as he was broad. And not an ounce of fat on him that she’d seen.

“Jordan, please forgive my brother,” she overheard Reid saying, his voice rich and smooth. “He’s a little less than enlightened.”

“I figured,” Jordan answered. “But he was a Marine, so I didn’t expect much better.”

Ahead of Naomi, Hector laughed.

“Was? Am, honey,” Cash answered. He sounded like a grizzly with his paw caught in a trap. Angry and growly. She hoped like hell she could deal with someone else, like his brother, who spoke calmly by comparison.

“My name’s Jordan, you jarhead. Not honey,” Jordan snapped back.

Naomi liked her already.

Lafayette cleared his throat. “Yo, we got people in the hall. You might want to keep it down, or at least close the door.”

She lost the rest of the conversation when the door closed and continued to follow Hector into the main office at the end of the corridor.

Inside the large space was a waiting room and, in the center, a grand reception desk. Against the far wall were three closed office doors, and off to the left of the sitting area, where three people sat leafing through magazines, she noticed a table with fixings for coffee and several plates of baked goods.

Behind the reception desk, a blond man sat talking on the phone and writing on a yellow notepad, ignoring the computer, and her, completely.

The tasteful decor of the office surprised her, as did the fact the place wasn’t tacky or filled with vending machines. Cream-colored walls had been decorated with patriotic photographs of the flag and members of various services. And on one particular wall hung a framed photo with a Vets on the Go! truck and a line of employees standing proudly in front of the vehicle.

The office had a professional feel not quite in tune with the brutish men and loud voices she’d just overheard.

Hector set the box on the reception counter and turned to her. “Sorry about that. We’re still growing. Got so much attention from that thing on the news that it’s total chaos lately.”

Hector turned to the people waiting. “Hey, folks. Reid’ll be right with you.” To Naomi, he said, “Reid’s the guy you want to talk to.”

Thank God. She nodded her thanks.

Hector took his box through one of the closed doors, then reappeared and grabbed a clipboard the blond man at the desk handed him. Hector looked at it, mumbled something under his breath, then left in a hurry.

The man and woman on the couch, probably a couple, continued to peruse their magazines. The older man across from them noticed Naomi’s gaze, shrugged, and said, “Got nothing but time.”

Behind the desk, the lanky blond finished his call, his gaze now glued to her. He hung up and smiled. “Well, hello. How can I help you?”

The way his gaze subtly traveled over her, lingering on her face instead of her curvier assets, along with that charming smile, made her feel appreciated instead of leered at, which she found amusing. The guy had looks and charisma and worked them to his advantage.

She continued to catalog the strengths and weaknesses in the place as she answered, “Hi. I’d like to talk to Reid Griffith if he’s available. I’m here to help with your marketing and PR needs.” She didn’t want to be confused with another client needing a move.

“Do you have an appointment?”

“I couldn’t get through on the phone. It just kept ringing.”

“Damn it,” came a growl from behind her. “I knew this would be a problem.”

She turned to see a dark-haired man with light-gray eyes striding into the office. Reid, apparently. Naomi could only stare as his magnetic pull made it impossible to look away. He barely gave her any notice, glancing instead at the people waiting. “Sorry, folks. Finley will be right with you.” He gazed at the blond man, one dark, arched brow raised.

“So I’m done manning the phones?”

Reid groaned. “The phones are killing me. Yeah. Thanks, but I need you to help the people waiting here. Use office 2A.”

Finley nodded and stood. Geez, did they hire anyone small around here? Unlike the other men she’d seen, Finley had a more streamlined appearance. If he was an athlete, she’d think him a runner or cyclist.

He stepped around the desk, gave her a wink, then smiled at the couple. “Okay, Mr. and Mrs. Barnett. Come with me, and we’ll get you scheduled.”

Reid walked over to the older man. “Mr. Thompson, sorry for the long wait. Would you come with me?”

The gentleman grabbed a black Vietnam vet ball cap, placed it on his head, and stood with a grin. “See what happens when you save the day? Get too popular to handle yourselves.”

Reid ran a hand through his short dark-brown hair. “You got that right. Sorry again for the wait.” He spared Naomi a glance and gave a clipped smile. “I’ll be with you after Mr. Thompson, ma’am.”

She blinked and nodded, still staring like an idiot.

Then he turned and escorted Mr. Thompson into one of the empty offices.

She sat, trying to gather her thoughts.

The amount of eye candy around the place had thrown her. It was like an office for supermodel buff guys. Normally, Naomi was the one drawing the eye. But in this place, she didn’t feel as if she stood out. It didn’t help that Reid had barely spared her a look before leaving with Mr. Thompson.

Her ego aside, the thought of using all that muscle and sex appeal for branding purposes was like being handed a gift. If the men of Vets on the Go! photographed well, she could easily envision more business flying through the door.

On the surface, Vets on the Go! seemed too good to be true—busy, inefficient, and totally needing her help.

Two more moving people came in. A male redhead about her height walked next to a bigger man with plain features. They nodded at her, then each grabbed a clipboard from the desk before leaving again.

Jordan, the woman who’d been arguing with Cash, entered the office, followed by Cash and Lafayette.

“Look, I’m sorry, okay?” Cash rumbled. “You’re big and strong and not at all girly. You win.”

Jordan shot daggers at him while Lafayette grinned behind the pair.

Everyone froze when they saw Naomi sitting and waiting.

“Hel-lo there.” Cash looked her over with a directness she might have found refreshing if she hadn’t overheard him talking down to the woman next to him. “And how can I help you?”

Naomi rose to her feet. “I’m looking to speak to the owners of Vets on the Go! to talk about your marketing strategies and targets. I was told to ask for Reid Griffith?” She did her best to sound pleasant while mentally castigating the big bastard for his machismo. “I’m Naomi Starr of Starr PR.” She held out a hand, and Cash shook it, his large hand engulfing her much smaller one.

Up close, she felt the power of his green-eyed stare and might have felt overwhelmed…if she hadn’t been used to dealing with alpha business types. She met his gaze and smiled, giving the appearance of being unperturbed.

“Cash Griffith.” He frowned a little then let go of her hand. He hadn’t squeezed too hard or been rough, which she thought a good sign. Maybe the lout had potential after all. “Ah, if you’re talking business stuff, you want Reid.”

She nodded. “He’s in with a client.”

Lafayette turned to the woman with him. “Hey, Jordan. Let me show you around, okay?”

She gave Cash a glare, turned to dismiss him, which he clearly didn’t like by the large scowl on his face, and motioned for Lafayette to lead the way. “Sounds good. I’m ready to start whenever Mr. Macho here lets me.”

Cash growled. It made Naomi want to laugh to see the big guy defensive. “Come on, you two. There’s shit we can be doing while Reid takes care of all this.” He waved his hand at the office and left, brushing by everyone in a huff.

“What’s his problem?” Jordan asked Lafayette.

“What problem? This is Cash on a good day.” He grinned. “Sure you want the job?”

She sighed. “Unfortunately, I do.”

Naomi sensed a story there, but then they left. All alone, she sat once more and went through her phone, checking things off on her calendar while coordinating with Liz and Leo about two of their current clients.

Twenty minutes later, Mr. Thompson walked out with Reid behind him, the pair laughing as they shook hands.

The old man smiled. “Take care, Gunny. I’ll see you guys in a month.”

“Will do, Dan. It was a pleasure to meet you.”

Dan Thompson left with a pep in his step and a smile on his face. “Ma’am,” he said and tipped his hat at her as he passed.

She stood and managed a professional nod at Reid, aware of her racing pulse that had as much to do with involuntary attraction as it did with nerves. No matter how handsome she might find him, she couldn’t screw this up.

Reid didn’t give her the once-over his brother had. He met her gaze and smiled. “I’m sorry you had to wait. I didn’t see an appointment…?”

She shook her head, pleased to see him follow the motion of her deliberately styled waves. “I’m Naomi Starr of Starr PR. I saw you on the news and thought you might need some help. I think you have the potential to grow.”

Reid nodded, his gaze focused on her. Good Lord, it was like being studied under a microscope.

She felt breathless and hated herself for it.

“Why don’t you come in and we’ll talk?” He motioned for her to walk with him into his office.

When she passed, he put a gentle hand on the small of her back, and a zing of heat spiraled throughout her body. Totally weird.

He removed his hand upon entering and seated her across from his desk before taking his own chair. “Would you like something to drink?”

“No, thank you.”

He nodded, took a huge gulp from the large insulated cup on his desk, then kicked back and laced his hands behind his head. Which showed off his impressive chest and amazingly toned arms. Hurray for spring and men in short sleeves. “So, how can you help me, Ms. Starr?”

A loaded question for sure, she thought, wishing she’d sensed something off about the man—but no, she hadn’t seen a ring on that finger and he still wasn’t flirting. Unfortunately, nothing he’d done dampened her need to be found attractive by him.

She cleared her throat. “Naomi, please.” Naomi took a subtle breath and let it out slowly. She was an amazing strategist. She could do this. Even better, his firm needed her. She could help him achieve the greatness buried just under the surface. “Mr. Griffith, I—”

“Reid is fine.”

“Reid,” she continued. “I saw your company on the news yesterday and was drawn to your concept: veterans helping other veterans and in turn helping out the community. You offer a sense of pride and a dedication to helping people who are in a vulnerable state of transition. But your website is a little hard to manage. You have no automated scheduling, which might be losing you potential customers. And you’re a small company trying to compete with larger firms in a city this size. It can’t be easy.”

He sighed. “It’s not.”

“I’m here because I’m also part of a small firm competing against bigger but not necessarily better PR firms. I run a boutique agency, meaning we focus on smaller companies we know we can help. I think Vets on the Go! has enormous potential. And I’d like to help you achieve success.”

He watched her like a wolf sizing up prey. She squelched a shiver, reminding herself she’d worked with bigger, badder versions of dominant men. But none of them nearly so attractive…

Reid lowered his hands to the desk as he sat forward, his gaze penetrating. “So you saw our spotlight on TV and out of the blue decided to come down here and pitch your services.” The gaze he swept over her, finally, surprised her. It felt less than flattering.

“I did. I actually called to talk to you, but I couldn’t get through.”

“Oh. Sorry about that.” He sounded nothing but polite once more. Perhaps she’d misread the look he’d given her? “Since my brother and Hector decided to play superhero, the phones haven’t stopped ringing. I mean, I’m glad they helped people out. And the publicity has been great. It’s not helping in that we can’t keep up with the demand.”

“That’s kind of what I thought.”

“And there have been a number of women showing up with plates of cookies, cakes, and brownies. Are you sure I can’t get you something? We had two pans of blondies a few hours ago.”

She paused, suddenly understanding, and tried to bite back a grin. “Ah. Well, I didn’t bring you any cookies. I’m just here about business.”

“Thank God.”

She chuckled, not at all offended. “Hey, at least you’re attracting people in the door.”

“I guess there is that.” He gave her a tired smile. “We’ve been in business the past year and a half, and it’s been a struggle to get going. Part of why we’re doing better than our small-business competitors is we only hire people we vet, so to speak. They pass a background check before we even think about hiring them. They have to jibe with Cash and our motto of always faithful. It’s not just a Marine thing.”

“That, right there, is what you need.”

“What I need are two more of me to handle the workload,” he muttered. “What exactly do you think I need?”

“To refine your brand. Always faithful is a great tagline for your business.”

“You’re saying we need help with PR and marketing?”

“Exactly. Have you used anyone before?”

He shook his head. “It’s been all me. I’ve been meaning to hire someone, but we never had the funds or the time to look into it. Frankly, it’s pricey. I’m sure you’re not here out of the goodness of your heart to provide a free service.”

“No, but I get the feeling you can’t afford not to work with someone. I’m hoping we can help each other.” She smiled at him and noted a subtle change in his expression, though she still couldn’t read him. Naomi prayed she didn’t look as attracted as she felt. “Do you know the difference between public relations and marketing?”

“No.”

“A PR professional creates awareness. We use social media, like your website, Twitter, Facebook, Instagram, etcetera, to get people to notice you. Marketers create demand. So whereas a PR professional works on your brand and makes you shiny to new customers, a marketer will use social media to increase the demand for your services.”

“I need more coffee.” He downed what was left in his cup.

“I don’t mean to confuse you. PR and marketing really go hand in hand. It’s like”—she glanced at his cup—“say you’re really desperate for coffee, but you don’t know there’s a coffee shop across the street from you. You’re thirsty but don’t know where to go to sate that need.”

Was it her imagination, or did his eyes just grow darker?

“Then, too, you might be thirsty for something but not realize coffee is what you’re hankering for, that caffeine jolt to push you through your day. With the right balance of marketing and PR, we can show you that coffee is what you want, and that you can find that coffee right across the street. Does that make sense?”

“Sure, but people know if they need a moving company.”

“But they don’t know that they need your moving company. And they might not see it since there are so many other companies offering a similar service and experience. With my firm’s help, we can convince them that what they need is you. Then we convince them to tell all their friends about you, and that you’re exactly what they need now and in the future.”

He watched her, and she sensed a keen intelligence behind those light-gray eyes. “You’re pretty good, aren’t you?”

“The best.” She smiled and reached into her purse. “Here’s my card.” She laid it on his desk. “When you work with us, you see results. We know a lot of people in town and like to refer locally. You need help. We both know it. This publicity push from TV will either make you or break you. It’s time to capitalize on what you’ve got. If you can’t keep up with current demand, you’ll start to see all that good buzz go south.”

“Tell me something I don’t know.”

“Look at it this way. We can run a trial partnership, and I’ll be happy to go over the contract with you. We’ll make it a short run, say, three months, to see if what we offer is what you need. I know we can help you, but you have to be satisfied with our services. And three months is long enough that we can help you see some results.”

She waited for him to respond.

“How much are we talking?” he said after a moment.

To her consternation, his gaze moved to her mouth.

She fought the urge to lick her dry lips, not wanting him to think she was coming on to him. And how bizarre to have so many sexual thoughts about a client. Naomi never did that. Sleeping with her boss had been her one and only foray—mistake—into unprofessional behavior.

She gave Reid a ballpark figure that was more than competitive with other like-minded firms. “We’ll work through details on the contract so you’ll know exactly how much you’ll be paying once we iron out how much time you think you’ll need and what you want from us. We’re worth the investment, Reid.”

He watched her for a moment then nodded. “And I’d be working with you or someone else?”

“I’d be your primary contact. As I said, we’re a boutique firm. I have an assistant and a data expert, and we’ll soon be hiring a marketing professional. Right now, I handle all that.” She nodded to her card. “Please look us up. Our clients will be happy to talk to you about what we did for them. We’ve got references, testimonials. Feel free to talk to people who know us.”

“I will.” He picked up her card and held it in his large, graceful hand. “Can I call you once we figure out our budget?”

“Please.” Sensing her time had ended, she stood.

He stood as well and crossed to guide her out of the office. Once again, he put a hand against her back.

She didn’t know how to feel about it other than annoyingly aroused. At the exit to the main office door, she turned and took the hand he offered.

He held it a moment longer than she would have, but nothing about his behavior was anything other than that of a gentleman.

“Thanks, Naomi. I’ll be in touch.”

As she drove to her office, she made a mental note to add in even more exercise time to work off her sudden bout of nervous energy. And to get back on that dating site. Reacting so strongly to a client couldn’t be normal.

Then again, when confronted by a perfect package like Reid Griffith, a girl could be excused for being impressed.