Do you prefer hard and fast or slow and sensual?
I shake my head. “I think you’ve done a good job of spotting some smaller markets we’ve missed. I take it all of these are viable?”
Harper smiles carefully and nods. “Yes. They’re big enough that we should get several new clients from the campaign without overwhelming staff from a massive influx.”
“Good job, thinking of our resources, as well,” I reply.
A blush dusts over her cheeks. “Thank you.”
Our gazes lock for a moment, and I notice how her eyes dilate and her lips part.
I force myself to look down at my notes. “We need to choose only one of these markets. I’m thinking either the taprooms or the mall revival.”
Harper fidgets, looking to the floor for a second before returning her gaze to me. “Mall revival.”
I lean back in my chair. “Why do you say that?”
She bites her lip for just a second, and I wish I was biting it for her. “The mall revival is a niche group, but a number of industries. It gives the creative team the potential to hit several markets at once. Plus, the shopkeepers who stayed for the renovation are getting an advertising price-match from the mall administration, so they might be more likely to spend more with us than they normally would. If they see a positive return, we should pick up some long-term clients while also hitting more markets with positive word-of-mouth.”
I nod, her reasoning is well thought out. The accounts themselves would likely be smaller than a taproom, but more of them with more potential for positive feedback could make the mall revival the more profitable venture in the long term.
“You’ve thought this through, and I like that,” I praise, noticing the way she looks at me again. “We’ll go with the mall.”
“Yes, sir.”
I have to bite my tongue to keep a moan from slipping out. How I want to hear her say that in another context.
When I get my thoughts back on track, I can feel her eyes on me. I see the rise and fall of her breasts as her breathing quickens. For a moment, I wonder if she would say yes to me taking her then and there.
I clear my throat and force myself to look at my notes again. “I want you to come up with a draft plan. This is normally something that would be a team effort, but I want to see what you can do. Have it ready this time next week, and we’ll go over it to make refinements.”
“Y-yes.”
I look up, and she’s still gazing at me with darkened eyes.
“Should I?” she asks, gesturing to the whiteboards.
I shake my head. “No, I’ve marked this conference room for our use. You can leave them.”
She nods, stares at me for a few seconds, then strides from the room.
That was close. Even if I am going after her, it was far too soon, no matter how obvious it was that we were on the same wavelength.
This is going to be a long project.
8
Harper
Ringing. Something’s ringing.
My sleep-addled mind recognizes it as my phone before it goes to voicemail, but by the time I’ve fumbled around trying to find my phone, the ringing has stopped.
“They can leave a message,” I mumble ready to go back to sleep. I’d been so excited about the project with Axel and having complete freedom for the draft that I’d gone overboard, scribbling down ideas well into the night. What started as a goal of getting some thoughts on paper before bed turned into a full-blow brainstorming session that lasted until three in the morning.
Besides, it’s Saturday, so who could begrudge me sleeping in a bit?
The phone starts ringing again.
I manage to find the phone this time, hitting the answer icon on the third ring. “Hello?”
“Oh, Harper, thank god.”
The voice is familiar, but I can’t immediately place it. “Who’s this?”
“It’s Lauren.”
Lauren. Lauren?
My brain finally makes the connection, and I sit upright in bed. “Lauren? What’s wrong?”
“Harper, we need you to come down to the hospital. It’s your father.”
I immediately stumble out of bed. “What’s wrong with Dad? Was he in an accident? Is he hurt?”
“No accident, but you do need to come down.”
“Are you in the ER?”
“No, he was admitted. Room four-twenty-three.”
“Four-twenty-three,” I echo.
“That’s right.”
“I’ll be there as soon as possible.”
“I’ll let him know.”
The line goes dead, and I scramble to pull some clothes on.
“Where are you headed to in such a hurry?” Lee asks as I run past her in the living room.
“My stepmom called. Dad’s in the hospital,” I reply, tugging on my shoes.
“What!”
“Look, I don’t have all the details. I’ll fill you in later.”
Lee stands, walks over, and puts her hand on my shoulder. “Do you think I’m letting you leave here like this?”
“I’ve gotta go, Lee,” I reply.
She nods. “Yes, you do. But I’m not going to let you drive. Your focus won’t be on the road. Give me two minutes to put on something other than pajamas, and I’ll drive.”
“Are you sure?”
She laughs. “Of course I’m sure. Besides, I can drop you at the door, and you can save time by not having to look for parking. Just give me a call when you’re ready for a pickup.”
I throw my arms around her. “You’re the best.”
“Damn straight. Now let me go so I can get dressed.”
I release her, and she jogs to her bedroom. As promised, she’s back two minutes later, pulling her messy hair into a ponytail.
“Did Lauren say anything at all?” Lee asks as we reach her car.
“Not really,” I reply, slipping into the passenger seat. “She said he wasn’t in an accident, and that he’d been admitted, but that was it.”
“What floor is he on?”
“The fourth.”
She eases the car into traffic. “Well, we can rule out a heart attack then.”
“Huh?”
Lee glances at me. “My mom’s a nurse, remember? She works on the cardiac ward, which is on five.”
“What’s on four?”
She shakes her head. “I just know mom’s on five.”
Thanks to Lee’s driving and knowledge of the best backroads to use, we reach the hospital in record time and without the dangerous driving I would likely have demonstrated. I hop out as soon as she pulls up to the door.
“Give me a call as soon as you know anything, okay?” she asks. “I want to know what’s going on. And when you’re ready for me to come to get you, let me know.”
Tears of stress are forming at the corners of my eyes. I wipe them away. “Thanks, Lee.”
“Get in there.”
I nod and dash into the hospital. A few people give me looks as I rush past the gift shop and information desk towards the elevators, and I garner a few more glances bouncing on the balls of my feet impatiently as I wait for one to arrive. Then, I’m released onto the fourth floor and somehow manage to make it to Dad’s room without running.