The area outside the meeting room was filled with ten or twelve people. I set down my things and threw on my blazer.
Two people came out of the conference room, pushing a mobile flat screen display and wheeling out a catering cart stacked with hors d'oeuvres. Holy fuckballs.
Leo’s laser gaze zeroed in on me like an enemy combatant. His jaw ticked in time to each stalking step in my direction.
A suited man and woman entered the room at the direction of an older woman with a tartan scarf, bun, and a clipboard. They both carried large portfolios and sample flower arrangements.
“We’re up next.” He hissed. “Where the hell have you been?”
9
Zara
The long, wide hallway leading to the conference room was lined with colorful fall bouquets. Did the flowers give off that fresh floral scent or was it piped in to make everything feel free and bright? It was the furthest thing from my mood, which was a grimier, panicky, sweaty shoe situation.
“You know where I’ve been,” I seethed through clenched teeth. I buttoned and rebuttoned my blazer jacket. Gah! Two empty holes at the top. Dropping my hands, I closed my eyes and breathed through the panic. My heart was racing, sweat pouring down the back of my neck and my left hand throbbed. This ring was going to make my finger fall off.
Opening my eyes, I undid the buttons one more time and I swear, if there was an extra button or hole at the top I was going to burn this thing in a dumpster out back to go along with the raging dumpster fire of my life. Crisis averted; all buttons and holes safely matched.
Leo’s simmering stare of disbelief while I searched through my bag for the tablet wasn’t on my radar as the biggest problem I was dealing with. I knew I was late. I didn’t need his dramatic what the hell looks to make me feel any worse.
“You left forty minutes ago.” He dragged me by the elbow to an alcove in the hallway a yard away from everyone else.
Kathleen Thomas, who was heading up this project, stuck her head out of the conference room, spotting the two of us.
We smiled and waved. She tilted her head and smiled back before calling in one of the other companies, keeping her gaze on us until the door closed.
Leo snapped out of his smiling mannequin trance first. “I stalled as long as I could, nearly going out of my mind waiting on you. Are you trying to botch this pitch on purpose?”
“We’re allies, remember? I’m not going to stab you in the back.”
“Yet. After all your freaking out about being on time and prepared, you slink in here with minutes to spare.”
“Slink? I didn’t slink. I…” came rushing in here flooding my heels with sweat. “I got hung up.”
Panic mode hadn’t only set in for me. Leo was finally out of his cool guy mode. Winthorpe handled high profile events for even bigger clients. We’d been brought in to handle a staff event. It wasn’t as glamorous, but I’d treat it like it was a royal wedding. All the other companies brought in a circus, including everything except for the big top and lions.
Vying for their corporate events, everyone pulled out all the stops like this was a multimillion dollar project, because that’s how you won lifetime clients. They had their full floral arrangements and catering samples. But the well on our project coffers was filled with dust and cobwebs, although Bill had been adamant I win this. Win it with shit back-up. Thanks, Bill.
“Kathleen came out and said we could present last.”
“We’ll be fine. I made the tweaks to the presentation in the taxi.” My gaze lasered in on him, but I kept my face relaxed, almost pleasant to a passerby. They’d all be laughing at us anyway. Why add watching us throwing down to the list of ways we amused them. My stomach knotted and threatened a total upheaval. Hands shaky and heart thundering in my chest, I couldn’t even take deep breaths to calm myself.
“What tweaks?” he ground out the words before he plastered on a fake smile.
“Ones that needed to be made.” Three typos. Typos I’d made. I’d used my label maker to fix them. He didn’t need to know.
“Without me getting a chance to look them over?”
“Your input wasn’t necessary.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” He reared back like me fixing my own damn typos needed his authorization.
“We’re fine. The presentation is fine. It’s been a day and it’s not even noon.” I jabbed my finger into his chest. Damn! Was he wearing armor under there?
I smiled wide and gripped the lapel to his blazer, smoothing out a fold. “And I don’t need you adding to the crap pile. Got it?”
He glanced down at my hand—the one with the huge, honking diamond ring that hadn’t been there this morning—and jerked back, pulling me with him, my death grip still tight on his jacket.
I fell against his chest. “What the hell?”
“Did you run home to get engaged? Is that why you were late? Making out with your boyfriend—sorry, fiancé?” His gaze darted around like a groom was going to rappel down from the ceiling and steal me away.
“Not that it’s any of your business, but no I didn’t get engaged. I’m not even dating anyone. It’s my friend’s, it’s stuck, and it’s a long story. Actually, it’s a short story, and that’s it.” As insane as it sounded, that was my life. My gaze darted down to his neck. The fabric was trying to throttle every breath he took.
“Did you get changed in your car?”
He looked down at himself. “What the hell is wrong with how I look?”
“Have you ever tied a tie?” I yanked the knot loose, jerking his head down closer to mine. I whipped his tie out from under his collar.
He braced his hands on the wall behind my head, so he didn’t pitch forward. “What’s wrong with my tie?”
I smacked his hands away and pulled his collar up. “A standard knot here? At the Winthorpe?” It wasn’t as bad as assless chaps and a tiara, but I could at least make it look like something wasn’t trying to decapitate him.
My pleasant smile remained in place, but my gaze drifted to the people standing only a few feet away. “Are you crazy? With your neck, you need a half Windsor at a minimum. Maybe even a full Windsor, but this will have to do.”
Moving quickly, I looped it around his neck, our lips inches from one another in this tight space.
They were soft. The rest of his face was dramatic lines and squared angles, so they stood out this close. The jaw, the long straight nose, the cheekbones usually hidden behind a smirk. I took one quick peek because I wasn’t getting this close again, dammit—his eyes were pretty like caramel drizzled over chocolate fudge framed by thick eyelashes. Why did guys always win out on the eyelash department when women had to buy them? But those lips. They parted, clearing his throat. I jumped, my fingers getting back to work on the tie.
Someone cleared their throat. “Simply Stark and Easton Events?”
Kathleen.
We jumped apart, our heads whipping around.
My cheeks burned and I cleared my throat, stepping out of the alcove we’d been folded into.
This wasn’t the time to be thinking about anyone’s lips. I was only doing this so he wouldn’t be strangled by his own tie.