She stops walking and stares at me, those pretty eyes flashing. “Seriously, I’m in a rush. I’m sorry. Can we do this tomorrow?”
“Not really. I have exactly two weeks to prepare for a presentation that most people would take months over.”
“I have taken months over it,” she says, her voice thick. She’s started walking again and I follow her because she’s really annoying me. “And when I hand it to you it’ll be perfect.”
“That’s funny, because I heard you might sabotage it.”
She turns to look at me, her eyes flashing. “What? Where did you hear that?” She shifts her feet.
“A little bird told me.” I catch her eye.
“Of course she did.” Tessa rolls hers.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask.
She looks at her watch. “Nothing. I have to go.”
I let out a long breath, because I have no idea how to deal with her. From the moment I started working at Hampshire PR, she’s disliked me. I’m grateful that I don’t spend much time in the office where I have to deal with it. Roman brought me in to deal with our overseas clients, which requires a lot of travel. Roman used to do it, but after his second heart attack his doctor advised him to slow down.
So now he plays golf in the mornings – badly – and works in the afternoons. And I fly to Paris or Exuma or wherever he needs me to in order to smooth out problems with his best paying clients.
I like this job. I like the travel. I feel better when I’m not stuck in one city for too long. Carmichael is the one sexy fly in the ointment.
For a minute neither of us say anything. We both stare at each other, and I feel that pull again. Why am I attracted to her when she’s being a bitch?
Because you want to tame her. You want to win whatever game this is she’s playing.
She pushes the door to the parking lot open and grabs her keys from her bag. “I’ll talk to you about it tomorrow,” she says. “Call my assistant and set up a time.”
“I have meetings all day tomorrow. Jesus, will you slow down?”
I lightly touch her shoulder and she swings around to look at me, a neutral expression on her face. But I’m almost certain that underneath her calm exterior she’s fuming.
I don’t like the way we always clash, I really don’t. Keeping everybody happy is my superpower.
In every aspect of my life, I’m the peace maker.
I keep clients happy by day, and friends and family happy by night.
But I can’t make this woman smile no matter what I do.
My fingers are still touching her shoulder, and beneath her blouse I can feel the heat radiating from her. Like she’s so full of energy it doesn’t know where to go.
She’s so damn closed up not even a nuclear missile could penetrate her.
And now I’m thinking about penetration. With her. Great. I push that thought right out of my mind.
But it keeps trying to climb back up with an image of her face all soft and full of pleasure.
“I’ll get Gina to liaise with you,” she mutters. “You’ll be fully briefed. You don’t need to worry about that.”
Here’s the thing about Carmichael. She’s the best that Hampshire PR has. She knows it. I know it. Everybody in the damn building knows it.
But her people skills leave something to be desired, which is why she’ll never climb up the greasy pole. It annoys me, because if she tried, she could do so much better. With her looks and the way she holds herself she could be dynamite if she wanted to be.
She clicks her keys and her car beeps. “I have to go.”
“I really didn’t know Roman hadn’t told you about the project,” I say as she reaches for the car door.