Page 4 of Single Dad Christmas

He dipped his head once, in confirmation.

“Okay, so we sell the glitz and luxury of that. Let people feel like they’re movie stars for the night, by booking a suite in a Fox hotel.” She could imagine the campaign perfectly. Though her background wasn’t in advertising, she’d sat in on enough meetings in the past month to understand the way they structured these things. In truth, it was exciting to be the one coming up with the ideas.

She just hoped Donovan wouldn’t have a childish meltdown.

“In terms of long-term awareness, have you got the Sydney hotel featured on in-screen televisions across your network?”

His brow furrowed. “I’m not sure.”

“It would be a good thing to do,” she said, slipping easily into her role as future Queen, forgetting that she was no longer that. Nonetheless, the confidence she’d been taught to project came naturally to her now. “And we need to loop the PR team in. There should be more press around this,” she shuddered a little as she said it though, because the press was something she’d taken a dim view of, in recent months. “More press around you, around the fact you’re opening a flagship hotel in your home country. The Fox hotels are beloved the world over, and are finallycoming home. There should be articles on what that means to you, on what it will mean for the city, on how many people you’re employing. Good news stories. It would be great if we could get a couple to get engaged in one of your hotels, andhave it go viral,” she tapped a finger on the side of her mouth then realized he was staring at her and dropped her hand. She’d gotten carried away, brainstorming. Disaster.

“Obviously, the team will have a better idea of how to facilitate this,” she said, trying to remember what her role was today. None of this was her purview. “Donovan can?—,”

But Noah stood abruptly, and her mouth ceased making sound. Noah walked towards her, and all the air in the room seemed to disappear. Her mind went blank.

“Donovan is not a name I care to hear again,” Noah said, not angrily, but with determination. “You say your job is to manage clients?”

She nodded once, still not able to speak. He was barely a foot away from her. Up close, she could see the fibres in his shirt, smell the light hint of his fragrance, imagine what his skin would be like to touch. He had a swarthy complexion, and his jaw was lightly stubbled. Not intentionally, but almost as if he forgot to shave that morning. It was incredibly sexy, and her stomach popped with little bubbles of something like awareness.

She was appalled at herself. Firstly, he was a client. A very, very important client. Secondly, she’d literally just broken up with one of the most famous men in the world. It wasnotthe time to be going gaga for anyone.

Only, her body hadn’t got the memo, because what had started as popping in her stomach had spread through her veins and manifested as a throb low in herabdomen and a tingling in her breasts. She swallowed quickly, seeking out calm.

“To keep clients happy?”

She nodded again.

“And I’m an important client to the agency, someone you want to keep happy?”

Her mind was spinning, but she nodded. “Of course.”

“Then let me be clear: there is only one way to fix this, and that’s for you to come and work for me.”

Her jaw dropped. She stared at him, aghast. “I’m flattered, but?—”

“This isn’t about flattery. I like the way your brain works. I like your passion, your commitment, and your honesty. You’re the person I want to run this launch, and I want you to do it from here, so I can work closely with you, each step of the way. This hotel launch is—important to me. I need it to go well.”

She wondered at the inflection in his voice, at the slight darkening of his eyes, the emotion in his face. It didseemimportant to him. Then again, the hotel would have cost hundreds of millions to build and get up and running. Hardly a casual investment. Naturally, he needed to see returns.

“I can’t leave the agency, Mr—Noah. You’re not my only client.”

“For the next six weeks, I will be.”

She stared at him. It was impossible to miss his natural authority. He spoke and she very much found herself wanting to say, ‘Yes, sir, of course, sir.’

“Unfortunately, that’s not possible.” Some strange self-preservation was making her demur, to cling to her job at the agency. “I can be involved in every aspect of your rollout, take a key role within the team, if you’d like.” She could imagine how Donovan would feel about that, butc’est la vie.This was about keeping Noah Fox on board. Besides, Donovan was the one who’d urged her to promise whatever she needed to. “But I can do that from the agency.”

Noah’s eyes held hers for a long time. “I’ll think about it,” he said, finally, and she had a sinking feeling in her stomach that she might have failed after all.

“Noah—,” But what could she say? She’d offered something that was fair and reasonable. Besides, she didn’t have the experience to oversee a campaign like this. It was one thing to come up with ideas as a sort of lifeline, things that sounded good in theory. She had no idea if they’d actually work, nor how to implement them.

“Thank you for coming to see me, Louisa. It was a pleasure meeting you.” And he held out his hand, in a clear gesture of finality. She stared at it as though it were a gauntlet she had to cross. For one thing, by shaking it, she was accepting that the meeting was over. On the other…it meant touching him.

Touching Noah Fox.

Just sitting across from him at the boardroom table had been enough to make her head spin.

Don’t be stupid. It’s just a handshake. Get a grip—literally.She chastised herself back to common sense and held out her own hand, glad that fireworks didn’t explode into the room the moment they touched. Only as his fingers curled around hers, encasing her hand in the middle of his palm, she realized she was wrong. There might not be fireworks in the room, but inside of Louisa, everything started to tremble. His hand was warm and strong, his skin slightly calloused, which surprised her, because Noah Fox was a man who worked in boardrooms and slept in luxurious, million-thread count sheets. Why would his hands be calloused? She liked the way they felt though, so when he dropped her hand a moment later, she felt a searing, and strange, sense of emptiness. And a desire to reach out and grab his again, to hold it just a moment longer.

---