Needless to say, I sealed the deal.
Aside from that little speed bump with Mercer almost getting physical with me in the hallway, the rest of my day went as smoothly as I had expected it to. Devon and I spent most of our time strategizing on the proposal for Matrix, weighing budget options, and arguing over how much of our weight to put behind a viral video campaign.
I had forgotten about Mercer until he came bursting into my office later that evening. I was always one of the last people to leave, which I assumed was why he’d waited until the building was mostly empty. A quiet office could embolden anyone. I was sliding some papers and my phone charger into my satchel when he started barraging me with complaints.
“I should get credit for that account!” he exploded, even as Nora tried to escort him out.
He shook her off his elbow with barely restrained violence, and I waved her off with a bored hand. She scuttled back to her desk and picked up the phone. I knew better than to expect she was calling security; Nora knew my meetings could sometimes get argumentative, and she was far more likely to have dialed one of her friends to gossip about what had just happened.
“I brought him in,” Mercer barreled on. “I did the legwork.”
“And you were late for the meeting,” I reminded him. “Ergo, you didn’t seal the deal. I did. You dropped the ball.”
“Because you wouldn’t give me a chance!” Mercer shouted. “If I had been there, I could have handled it. You never give me a chance. You tell us you want us to step up, to get shit done, to bring in clients, but the second I do, you take it away!”
I got to my feet, tired of listening to his voice. Between my minimal sleep from the night before and spending the last ten hours working nonstop, I was in no mood for a tantrum. “I also want you to be professional. I set a standard for myself, and I expect my employees to follow that standard. If you cared half as much about doing your job correctly and being here at an hour that doesn’t shame the entire company as you do about putting yourself out there and hooking clients, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”
“It wasn’t my fault!”
“Did I ask if it was? No, I didn’t,” I snapped. Irritation was creeping into my voice, sharpening it like a knife. “You know what I expect, and you failed. End of discussion.”
Mercer was furious, his eyes burning with hatred. I had him over a barrel, and he knew it. He was already on thin ice as it was, and bursting into my office wasn’t earning him any favors.
“Let me give you some advice.” I crossed the room to stand before him. Even at a three-inch disadvantage, I towered over him with my presence. “Stop worrying about shifting blame and start worrying about the quality of your work. You have three clients who have asked me to assign them different managers, and Seth was on the phone with Ms. Peabody for over an hour trying to explain to her why the invoice you provided didn’t match what you quoted to her when you two met.”
Mercer’s face fell. I could see his eyes shift between me and the door as if he had realized he should back out with his tail between his legs before it was too late.
“I notice these things,” I added, a little softer. This had always been my trump card, the ace up my sleeve. No one expected me to pay as much attention to the minutiae of a fast-growing company as I did. But I noticed and remembered everything.
“If you want a promotion, then you need to earn it,” I continued. “Stop being an entitled prick and pay attention to your clients. Then, maybe I’ll consider giving you a chance.”
I left him standing there, and I shoved all thoughts of him from my mind the second I stepped out of the building. Putting him in his place had given me a spring in my step. I decided a celebratory drink was in order, but, for some reason, the idea of going home didn’t appeal to me as it had that morning. I recognized the pent-up energy in my arms and shoulders, aching for a way to get out. Between my spat with Mercer and the thrill of bagging a new client, I was in the mood for another kind of conquest.
Which was how I wound up in a bar for the second night in a row, sipping Scotch and Saint Germain as I scanned the room. So far, nothing and no one had caught my eye. The music was dull, the drinks were passable, and the company was boring. But, the second the crowd parted, and I saw her, I knew I had found my new fixation.
A tight white dress accented the curves of her body, while her straight chestnut-brown hair tickled her shoulders. She was alone, finishing a glass of white wine, swirling it around in her glass like someone who knew how to taste for soil acidity and fruit notes. I was out of my seat almost instantly.
As I slid onto the stool next to her, I motioned to the bartender. “She’ll take another glass,” I told him. “And get me another Scotch, as well.”
The woman turned to me with one perfectly manicured eyebrow raised, hazel eyes filled with amusement. She had balanced, classically beautiful features: deep-set eyes, a delicate nose, and a mouth with a wicked quirk to it. That mouth drew my attention, and I began to think of the way it would feel on me, pressing a kiss into the juncture of my hip bone, wrapping around the length of my—
“Excuse me,” she said. “But what makes you think I want another glass of wine, let alone from a complete stranger?”
“Because …” I purred, “… by the end of the night, we won’t be strangers. And because what I’m going to do to you will be worth walking bowlegged, with a slight hangover tomorrow.”
The statement was bold, but I took her for the type who liked to hear these kinds of things straight. This time, both her eyebrows shot up, and she laughed, a delightful sound that lit up her whole face.
“Wow, you’re either very confident … or very cocky,” she declared. Her pink cheeks suggested she was flattered by my attention. Or aroused by it.
I grinned. “Trust me, my confidence and cock are both on point.”
The bartender placed another glass of wine in front of her as he whisked her empty glass away, and she picked the new glass up to take a sip.
“You sound sure of that fact.” Her perfect lips brushed the rim of the glass as she spoke.
Her eyes glided over me and to the room beyond, taking in the sights and sounds. She didn’t seem insulted by my comment, but she also didn’t seem intrigued, and that made me even more determined to crack her façade to see just what she had going on underneath it. And, if I was being honest, underneath her dress.
I sipped my Scotch. “I am.”
She didn’t respond right away, but I could tell she was considering my suggestion. I waited for her to come to the same conclusion I had as soon as I’d seen her.
“Don’t I at least get to know your name?” She raised an eyebrow in question.
I put my glass down and took her hand from where it rested on the bar. “Caleb,” I murmured as I brought her hand up to kiss it, letting my breath ghost across the spot I’d kissed, before I withdrew.
The lie rolled off my tongue as easily as it always did. It wasn’t a deception meant to cause anyone harm, but I hated the way a ripple of whispers went through the room whenever someone recognized me. The way a potential bedmate began to fawn over me, or excused herself from the conversation, once she learned who I was. Everyone already had their opinions about Aaron Patterson and, tonight, I didn’t want to be him.