Chapter 15

Jeremy

She’s ignored me throughout this meeting.

The beautiful woman I fucked two months ago in Las Vegas is acting like she doesn’t know me.

She’s doing a piss poor job of it.

Her hair is a shade darker than it was the night we met and the eyeglasses she’s wearing shield her gorgeous green eyes and long lashes, but I’d know her anywhere.

Everything about her is unforgettable. I have zero doubt in my mind that my Vegas angel is sitting across this conference table from me chewing on the end of a pen while Mitchell Bilton lays out some bullshit, lackluster plan to launch my vanilla vodka.

“I’m interested in hearing Linny’s ideas,” I interrupt Mitchell mid-sentence because I know what a goddamn television is and I’m not interested in paying hundreds of thousands of dollars to produce a thirty-second spot to air on a network channel during a game show that most of the population has never tuned into.

“I wasn’t finished,” Mitchell whines.

How old is this guy?

After two shots of vodka, his voice got higher and his words slurred together.

He’s a lightweight and a selfish prick judging by the way he’s monopolizing this meeting.

“I get the picture.” I look in his direction. “You want to produce a commercial starring a couple of geriatric actors. Your suggestion is to not air it during football games. That’s your plan, right?”

Mitchell nods and then shakes his head. “It might be better if we cast a couple of guys my age and showed it during games.”

If I wanted to follow the same advertising path as Estey Vodka, I’d call his approach a win, but I’m looking for something fresh.

I lean forward and glance across the table at Linny. “What have you got for me?”

Her eyes meet mine, and I see a flicker of something; something that was there when I opened my hotel room door two months ago to find her.

My cock swells at the memory of how beautiful she was that night and how devastatingly sexy she is right now.

I want to clear the room and bend her over the table so I can finish what I started in Vegas. I need to touch her, taste her, fuck her.

“If your target demographic is my age, your primary focus should be on social media.” Looking down, she brings the pen to her lips again.

I stare in fascination at the way her plump lips circle it and the brief flashes of her pink tongue as she flicks it against the tip.

This is a first for me. I’ve never battled a hard-on in a meeting, but that’s because I’ve never wanted a woman’s mouth on my dick more.

“How old are you?” I blurt out.

She stiffens. “I’m within what should be your primary target market. Consumers between the ages of twenty-one and thirty-five are gravitating toward flavored vodkas. If your marketing efforts aren’t appealing to them, you’re wasting your time and your money.”

“She’s twenty-six.”

I turn at the annoying sound of Mitchell’s voice. I expected him to be passed out with his head on the table by now.

“My age isn’t relevant.” Linny’s shoulders go back as she straightens in her chair. “I was referring to what I believe is Rizon’s target consumer.”

“Age is relevant.” Mitchell’s lips curl into a sneer. “With it comes experience and that’s a requirement to handle an account this important.”

Ignoring his comments, Linny faces me directly. “I’ve had a look at Rizon’s social media accounts, and I see room for improvement, Mr. Weston. I’d strongly suggest you invest a good portion of your marketing budget in online ads. The people who will purchase your vanilla vodka use social media on a daily basis. You need to go where they are and create a buzz so they’ll feel compelled to try the product.”

She speaks the truth.

I’ve followed my grandfather’s rulebook for too long.

He launched the company in an era where a billboard or magazine ad could sell hundreds of thousands of bottles of vodka.

I’ve piggybacked off his success, but our new products demand an innovative approach.

The time and attention we’ve devoted to social media have been extensive, but it’s not enough. We need to do more.

“Also, I suggest we run a contest,” she goes on, her gaze shifting to the bottle of vodka in the middle of the table. “It would be an easy way to engage our target market.”

Our target market.

I know it’s a job to her, but working side-by-side with her for this launch is exactly what I want.

“What will the prize be?” Mitchell asks.

The urge to knock the smirk off his face with my fist is strong. It’s a wonder Faye & Sons has the reputation they do with this asshole as part of their team.

Linny waits a beat before she answers. “I have two ideas that I’d be more than happy to expand on with Trent.”

“With Trent?” I sit back in my chair. If she thinks she’s going to bypass me to work on the campaign with Trent, she’s mistaken. I give her credit for maintaining her composure for the past hour, but she won’t be able to keep it together once the hard work starts.

I’ll get her to admit she’s the woman I fucked before the ink is dry on my contract with Faye & Sons.

She looks at Trent. “I saw the contest you ran on your Instagram account when you were in Rio de Janeiro last fall. I suggest doing something similar on the official Rizon Vodka account. A bigger prize, and targeted advertising for a wider reach.”

Rio de Janeiro? What the hell is she talking about?

Trent’s expression says it all. Guilt mixed with embarrassment and something that borders on amusement.

I’m not about to call him out in this meeting, but the smug son-of-a-bitch won’t make it out of this building without confessing what he did in Rio.

“I like the way you think.” He shoots Linny a smile. “Drop those ideas in an email and Jeremy and I will go over them.”

“All we need is your signature on the dotted line, Mr. Weston,” David chimes in. “I’ll have my assistant bring in the contract and we can get started on the campaign first thing tomorrow morning.”

“Linny leads this.” I stand and button my suit jacket. “I’ll work with the rest of your team, but she’s our main point of contact.”

I feel her gaze on me. I don’t turn to look at her because my cock has finally dropped to half-mast. I want out of here so I can breathe and think.

“You’ve got yourself a deal.” David rounds the table. “You’re not going to be disappointed. Our firm will do whatever it takes to make Rizon vanilla vodka a success.”

“Send the contract to my office.” I motion for Trent to stand. “We’re heading back there now.”

“I’ll hand deliver it.” Mitchell pushes back from the table but stays seated. “Linny and I are a team. I’ll be available whenever you need me day or night.”

The only person in this room I want available day and night is silent. I turn toward her. She glides to her feet.

“It’s been a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Weston.” Her hand skims the waistband of her skirt. “I look forward to working with you, sir.”

I look forward to fucking you. Again.

I bite back the urge to say that. “I’ll be in touch.”

She nods, parts her lips and lets out a soft breath.

I have no fucking idea how I’m going to keep it together around her, but before the week is over, Linny Faye is going to confirm what I already know.

She’s the woman I took to bed in Vegas and she’s as eager to finish what we started as I am.