Page 11 of Meeting Up with the Consultant

“Sorry,” I whisper.

“It’s okay.” She stretches and glances at her watch. “I only meant to take a little catnap. Guess I’m more tired than I thought.”

“You’ve been going like a little worker ant all week.” My voice comes out low and gravelly.

I’ve marveled at her dedication to making the launch of Ascent’s new product a success. All the team is in one-hundred percent. It’s so refreshing. Invigorating. I want to work hard to help them succeed.

Her eyes sharpen as she sits up and stares at me. “You’ve worked hard, too. Harder than I thought a consultant would.”

I almost shift on my feet as guilt makes the thickness in my throat painful. I have worked my butt off. I always do, but not like the last ten days. Maybe I pushed too hard.

“I—” My voice croaks out, so I clear my throat and try again. “I don’t have a lot of time here.” I shrug, unable to stop from shifting. “I want this to succeed for you.”

A blush colors her cheeks. I didn’t mean to say it like that, just for her, but the pink on her cheeks has my stupid heart tripping all over itself. An image of me tossing my computer aside, dragging her from the hammock, and tasting her cheeks, her neck, her lips until the blush turned red-hot hits hard. My knuckles turn white as I grip the computer so my body doesn’t follow through with the daydream.

She takes a deep breath, her eyes never leaving my face. “You wanted to show me something?”

Her voice is airy and soft. She darts her gaze to my computer and back. Right. The website. I glance at the screen, and my hands turn clammy with doubt.

“It’s late.” I grab the edge with one hand to close it.

“Nonsense.” She scoots toward one end and pats the hammock next to her.

Nope, not that late. I step to her. Sitting in that hammock together and looking at the computer will be awkward, but passing up on the chance to be close to her isn’t an option. She takes another deep breath and pulls her bottom lip between her teeth, an expectant look in her eyes.

Man. She is killing me.

Slowly.

With each smile and soft glance.

It may all be in my head. I hope not. If it is, maybe I can convince her my head has a good idea.

“Kens, I need your—” Brad stops short at the door, his gaze bouncing between the two of us. His eyebrow raises as it lands on me and stays.

He has that what-do-you-think-you’re-doing look. You know, the one family gives when they walk in on something suspicious. My throat suddenly feels like a wad of itchy wool yarn is lodged there. I swallow and lift my computer.

“I was just about to show Kensie an idea I had for the website.” I ignore the way her eyes widen in my peripheral.

“Great.” He motions for Kensie to come close and steps up to the side of me. “Let’s see it.”

“Okay.”

I turn away and grit my teeth. I had no intention of showing Brad what I’d done until Kensie was fully on board. Stepping on her toes or upstaging what she has going on isn’t what I wanted.

My mind races with how I can fix this, so I don’t look like I’m gunning for her job. What she’s done with the company’s marketing is amazing. I only tweaked a few things to optimize the message better.

“Kensie had more than one plate full getting ready for the launch.” I peek back at her as I pull up the first screen, hoping she reads the apology in my gaze. “So, I had this mocked up on what we’d discussed.”

Brad doesn’t need to know she hadn’t been fully on board with the changes. I click through the pages, describing the changes that had been made, and ended on the screen that I’d worried the most over. The focus on the mountaineering and climbing community has been strong on the website before, but Brad’s insistence that it not be about him causes the message of the company to get diluted. Feel impersonal.

The Meet Your Team page has been a hard no from Kensie. I think what I’d had made up looks amazing and gives viewers the sense of family I get when I walk into the office. Hopefully, Kensie and Brad will see it, too.

I click play, and the video starts with building music and a panorama scan of the Denali summit. It tumbles through pictures of the department heads on their various adventures, pictures and videos I’d borrowed from Ascent’s product development and testing department. Kensie scaling a rock face. Brad climbing Denali. Emmy with her hands over a fire and her tent staked behind her in the snow. Wyatt checking Saylor’s harness as she gazes up a cliff. Various expressions of concentration or exertion on their faces, but mostly the joy of the adventure shining from them. They aren’t just a group of people sitting behind desks trying to make a buck off of a growing market. All of them want the best for the community because they are active members.

Kensie leans her cheek against my shoulder with a sigh. Peeking down at her, I almost drop my computer. Her face appears content and happy. I tear my gaze from her and focus on the video while my arm tingles where she presses.

The video rolls to an interview I’d uncovered of Brad at base camp before his attempt that had ended in disaster. He’s smiling, walking next to the other people in his group. A reporter asks him if he’s doing the climb just to test the latest products Ascent sold.

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