He frowns.
"But you’ll never hear about how I was going to put myself at your disposal twenty-four-seven."
7
Sin
That was supposed to have been my proposition. The hell did she come up with that?
I glare at her.
She shuffles her feet.
Are you uncomfortable, little Bird?
My fingers tingle and I shove them into my pocket.
She tips up her chin, "Well?"
"Well, what?"
She twists her fingers in front of her, "Don’t you want to hear about the rest of my proposal?"
Interesting. I am the one normally laying down the conditions. I am the one in charge, who likes to demand, and is never turned down. Not only has she stood up to me since we met; now, she actually wants to lead? I bare my teeth, "Clearly, you are delusional, or plain stupid."
"Clearly." She bites on her lower lip, "But you have to admit you are curious…"
Hmm.
"A teeny tiny bit?" She holds up her forefinger and thumb. Slender fingers tipped with pink nail polish. The woman loves that color.
Bet she also adores candies, flowers and teddy bears. The kind she'd love to receive on Valentine’s Day, right after she’d belted out Karaoke on a drunken night out with her girlfriends. Then shagged the man she took home.
My gut tightens. Interesting. Most females I associate with come well coiffured, long limbed, blonde hair, with designer outfits and high-heeled shoes that have never seen the inside of a tube station. This girl though—I take in her footwear. Chucks?
I blink. She is wearing chucks, with her slimline black skirt that comes to mid-thigh. Why hadn’t I noticed the ridiculous combination of her outfit? Probably because I was too busy staring at her breasts… or is it at her ridiculous pink hair, which really has no place in my boardroom?
Max huffs, then shuffles toward her with his ambling doggy gait.
She doesn’t notice him… Or if she does, she gives no indication. He circles her, sniffs her ankles, then drops down at her feet. His tongue lolls out of his mouth.
I frown. Max can be stubborn, and when he sets his mind on something… Well, nothing, not even me, can dissuade him. I look at my watch, "You have five minutes."
Her gaze widens.
I stalk forward, drop into the seat in the middle of the conference table. "Starting now."
"B…but." Her mouth opens and closes.
"Do you often do that?"
"Wh... what?" She stutters.
"Sound like you are drowning?"
Her cheeks flame. Her blush is quite spectacular, actually. It sears the expanse of her throat, right up to the tips of her ears. Do the other parts of her turn pink too? Would her pert backside show off every single fingerprint of mine? I drum my fingers on my table.
"Well, you were here to pitch an idea, right?"
She nods.
"So give it your best shot." I kick out my legs.
She leans forward toward the panel that controls the console with the fob and, I shake my head.
"What?" She frowns.
"I don't have time for a long drawn-out presentation."
"Bu... but I pulled together a deck."
"Give me a summary." She chews on her lower lip.
Don't look there, don't. I peruse the glistening flesh. Pink, slightly swollen. Her mouth falls open slightly, and fuck, if I don't want it fastened on my cock right now. My groin hardens. I shove my legs further apart, "Ms. West."
"Mr. Sinclair?"
I tip my chin up, "You now have have four minutes and fifty seconds left."
She releases her death grip on her laptop, folds her fingers together on the table, "The brief was on how to humanize the face of the 7A Company, using innovative marketing communications, the kind in which my company specializes."
"Cut to the crux of the strategy."
Her eyebrows lower. "My idea is to go behind the scenes, tail the founders, share behind-the-scenes pictures of each of the Seven, your interactions with each other, how you come up with strategies, the chemistry, the banter, the fights, use the key individuals at the helm to bring out why your company is not as bad as the recent PR that surrounds it."
"Oh, so you think we have a bad reputation in the market?"
"Yes." She holds my gaze.
Took guts to own up to that. It is refreshing, I’ll give her that. I place my elbows on the table, lean forward. "Go on."
"You and your fellow stakeholders are seen as cut-throat, mercenary, not caring about your employees, or anyone else, ready to take what you want, earn money for your stockholders."
I frown. "What’s wrong with that?"
"Profiting by itself is not enough. Not if you were thinking of going for an IPO, which you are."
How did she find out about that? That is information privy to the seven of us... and our teams.
"If you’re wondering how I knew about that," she raises her chin, "there was a piece in CITY A.M. last evening."
"There was?"
"Clearly, your PR team sucks if they didn't bring it to your notice."
"Hmm." I pull out my phone, search for the piece and find it. "We would have announced it in a week... No biggie."
I'm going to destroy whoever leaked the piece.
"It didn’t necessarily come from within your company."
"Oh?" Did she second-guess my thoughts, hmm?
"The change in your messaging during the last few months is a clear indicator that you are planning something big. Besides, the brief was aimed at whitewashing your reputation, and companies do that when they are going to..."
"Raise capital?" I pocket my phone.
She nods.
Hmm. Okay, I'll grant her that.
"So you're not just another pretty face, huh?"
Her lips firm. She knits her fingers together in her lap, clearly trying to control herself from saying something she might regret.
Question is, why am I not able to control myself when it's about her?
I survey her features again. Taking in the bright look in her eyes, her enthusiasm writ in every angle of her body, the way her chest heaves, the tension that skitters off of her, for a second, I feel my age. Hell, I am only a decade older than her, if that, but the experience I have packed into that time has clearly made me into a cynic. Not that I’ll admit to that. Ever.
"So, you think you can flounce in and tell us that our reputation sucks, that our confidential information has been leaked, and that you know better than us how we should be planning forward?"
She blinks, shuffles her feet. "Umm." The pulse flutters at her throat and I can’t look away. It hints at her vulnerability, how tense she is… how nervous she’s been throughout, really.
Guess not everyone has been fortunate to be blessed with a fighting spirit such as mine, huh?
"How desperate are you to win this account?"
She stiffens.
"It's clear that you’re not the best agency in the market. I mean, your ideas are hardly original."
She curls her fingers at her sides. "It's as original as... as your beard."