"You," William said incredulously. "You want to fire someone."

Poppy squirmed in his office chair. He had given her complete authority to sit behind his desk, mainly because he thought he would enjoy the sight of her on his 'throne' (as she liked to call it), but Poppy had never taken him up on the offer until today. It was Monday evening, and she had called his office to see if he was still in…likely knowing that this was precisely where she would find him, he suspected. She hadn't wasted any time in driving over and collapsing into his big leather office chair when he offered it today.

"No, I don't want to fire anyone!" she protested. "I'm just…I'm in a bit of a bind, is all. I need some other ideas for what my options are."

"Let me guess," William said as he crossed to the liquor cabinet. "Not only have you never fired anyone before, but your idea of 'firing' involves finding your employee a new position at another company. That position is likely a promotion over what they had with you, and pays more. Have you ever actually notified anyone they were terminated?"

Poppy pulled a face. "'Terminated'. Ugh. I hate that word. Why is business-speak so…murderous-sounding? It's just advertising!"

"'Just advertising'," William repeated with a chuckle. He poured them both a glass of amber-colored scotch and carried one over to her. Poppy accepted without really noticing and took a long sip. He loved the way her lush lips wrapped around the glass, the elegant way her throat worked as she swallowed. Just watching her now made the front of William's pants tighten, but he wasn't about to interrupt her work problem with his own personal urgency.

Not until he helped her find the solution, anyway.

"You're right," she sighed. "Advertising is what I live for. Good advertising."

"It's what we both live for. And it's what the people who work for you should passionately pursue." William leaned back against his desk and crossed his arms, cradling his glass meditatively. "Who are you trying to cut loose? Someone I know?"

"Again, not trying to cut anyone loose, per se," Poppy corrected him. "But the person in question is…someone who's made himself a bit infamous," she admitted. "It's Emo Kid. He…"

William's fingers clenched over his glass. He didn't think he was in danger of breaking it, but he set it aside after a moment just in case. "He's the one who tied the knot that almost got you killed," he said darkly. "Poppy, what the hell is he still doing at your company?"

"It was an honest mistake outside of his regular duties," she put in defensively. "Seriously, William. Anyone could have tied that knot incorrectly."

"His oversight doesn't begin nor end there, and you know it," he reminded her. He was having trouble keeping his temper in check in the wake of this revelation, but he knew he needed to tamp down the flame a bit, at least until she was gone. His fury wasn't for Poppy. "The knot just so happens to be the least forgivable offense in a long string of them. Someone could have been seriously injured because of his gross negligence. I had expected you to fire him the moment we made it back from the course."

"Well…" Poppy swirled her glass and stared very hard at the surface of his desk. "… that might be why I came to you. I'm not beyond asking for help. I know I get in my own way sometimes when it comes to my employees. I'm just not sure what to do in this case, and I need to look at multiple solutions. I was hoping you could help me think outside my own box. I am set in my ways when it comes to handling things like this…but I'm starting to realize it might not always be good for business."

William's face softened as he took her in. She was a strong woman, and a strong leader within her company—of this he had never had any doubt. But observing the way she sat here now, slouched and looking vulnerable in her abject misery, was telling of how big her heart was. Of course she would struggle with something like this. How could she not? She valued her employees more than anyone William had ever met. Other ad execs, himself included, were ruthless in the way they conducted business. Poppy Hanniford was decidedly not ruthless, and her empathetic take on the human side of things was humbling.

But she didn't need his reassurances now. What she required was his method. When those gorgeous green eyes of hers finally glanced his way, sad but hopeful, it was like a shock to his system. He had never felt so strongly that he needed to intervene on another's behalf. It was a feeling similar to the one he had felt the day Poppy had almost plummeted forty feet right before his eyes. Just thinking about it was enough to make his blood boil again, but he needed to stay calm. He needed to execute a plan, swiftly and precisely, to make sure this sort of thing never happened again.

"I see what's needed here," he reassured her. "Give me the evening to think this over. By tomorrow I should have the solution for you." He picked up his scotch again and held it in a commiserating toast. Poppy hesitated, then smiled. She leaned across the desk to clink her glass against his.

"I really appreciate your input, William. Seriously. Anything you can do. Including a refill," she hinted as she sat back in the chair. William smiled and rose, offering his hand, and she handed him her empty glass gratefully.

A refill is the least I can do for you, he thought. But you're right, Poppy. I will do anything.

* * *

William acted on schedule, as promised, although he didn't devote as much thought as he had implied before executing his plan. He knew exactly how he would put it into motion before Poppy left his office. He fulfilled his promise Tuesday.

Poppy was in his office again Wednesday morning.

"William!" She burst through the door in a flurry of blonde hair and billowing purple pea coat. William saw a snapshot of his secretary standing ineffectually, her arm outstretched, just before the door slammed shut behind Poppy. The blonde crossed to his desk in a fury…a fury, safe to say, that William had not been expecting. He mastered his astonished look before she arrived at his desk. He held out his hand to her, but she stopped short of accepting the offered chair. She glared at him.

The silence that followed her stormy entry was deafening, but Poppy eventually broke it. "Tell me you didn't." Her voice was almost a whisper. "Please tell me that you didn't fire my employee."

"Don't be absurd." It was the wrong thing to say. It was too defensive. Poppy's eyes narrowed, but she offered no immediate argument. She waited. "Poppy, of course I didn't fire someone from your agency. All I did was express my strong wish for his removal from our shared project. He was a threat to the work, and to the cohesion of the team…not to mention completely irresponsible when it came to checking his work when it was your life on the line."

"You knew exactly what would happen!" Poppy hissed. William felt certain that if there wasn't a desk between them in that moment, she would be stabbing his chest with her finger. "I saw the memo you wrote to my project manager! You bullied her into taking him off the project and advising him to find employment in another industry. She used your words! He quit without so much as speaking to me, and without even a letter of recommendation!"

"You should have never considered writing him one," William said. "Poppy…Poppy!" he snapped when she turned away from him. He bounded out from behind his desk and grabbed her by the shoulders to prevent her from leaving. She swayed slightly in place as he turned her around, but made no move to pull free from him. He didn't know if he should feel encouraged. Her eyes were green fire, and he had never seen a woman more ready to reduce him to ash. "Poppy, I did exactly what we discussed! I took care of it for you. I don't understand this reception."

"We didn't discuss any of this, William! What I wanted was someone to support me while I made difficult decisions that had to do with my own company…my own life!" she exclaimed. "I didn't want you to take charge! Is that really what you thought?"

"I…" William didn't have a ready response. In truth, he hadn't put much thought into it at all. As soon as Poppy had described her problem, he had zeroed in on the solution and implemented it. "I was just trying to protect you." The explanation sounded so weak, so facile, but Poppy didn't appear angry or resentful. She was peering at him intently. William gazed back at her. He wondered if she could see it replaying behind his eyes: the moment on the ropes course, the moment he almost lost her. It had been all he could think about. If I hadn't been near you, if I hadn't been prepared to shoulder our weight, if my climbing skills had been inadequate…if it were to happen again…

"Protect me from what, William?" Her voice was quieter. "From having to make hard decisions? They're my hard decisions. You wouldn't respect me as an equal if you thought I couldn't handle myself. So do you?"

"Do I what?"

"Do you respect me?" she demanded.

"Of course I respect you." He didn't need to think. "I more than respect you. Poppy, of course I know you're capable."

"Then you better start acting like it," she warned as she stepped out of his arms. "We're a team, William. If I come to you, it means I trust you enough to want your advice. I want your support. But I'm afraid your management style isn't going to work in this partnership…professional or otherwise. So I'll see you at the convention Friday," she concluded as she took a step back.

"You'll see me," William promised.

"Good. Because in light of recent events, I've made some last-minute changes to our costumes. You'll be getting an e-mail from me today," Poppy mentioned over her shoulder as she departed. "I'm throwing down the gauntlet, so be ready."

"Better than impaling me on it," William muttered. He watched her walk out, wishing he didn't so enjoy the mesmerizing sway of that tight, trim posterior. Whatever she would be wearing to the convention, he had no doubt that she would look damn good filling it.

After she had vanished back out the door, William relaxed a little. He hadn't realized he'd been grinding his teeth, but it was better to clamp down on what he really wanted to say then let the words pour forth. How could Poppy not see that he had done this for her? What's more, what he had done had flown in the face of his own self-interest. Jameson Agency looked better if Wildflower had incompetents on staff. He had only sought to do her a favor by helping her cull her staff and make it more efficient. It was something he was good at, and hadn't she come to him seeking his expertise?

He moved back around to his desk and sat down. He was unsurprised to find an unopened e-mail from Wildflower Agency at the top of his inbox.

He clicked it open and braced himself.