Page 36 of Strictly Business

“That wasn’t a mistake,” he says and my heart soars. “Anything that feels that good can’t be a mistake, right?”

“Right,” I agree. “It was no mistake. So, what does that mean for us then?”

“I … Before we go any further with this, I need to know if my age bothers you. I am a lot older than you and …” Wyatt is saying.

“Stop,” I say when I’ve heard enough to know what he’s going to say, and he does. “I know it’s a cliché Wyatt, but age is just a number. We have something special here and I am not going to risk throwing that away over something as stupid as your age.”

“So, we’re doing this then?” Wyatt asks.

“We’re doing this,” I confirm.

We turn to smile at each other, and we kiss. It’s a tender kiss, full of passion but also something more, something deeper. As we come apart, I rest my head on Wyatt’s shoulder and look out over the city.

“Let’s keep it quiet at work a little bit longer,” I say. “I still really want to prove myself on my own merit.”

That’s very much the truth, but I also feel like if it gets out at work that Wyatt and I are seeing each other, everyone is going to have an opinion on us, not all of them good, and I don’t feel ready for the whole office to be involved.

“Yes, I agree about work. But we have to tell your dad and Craig sooner rather than later,” Wyatt says.

“I know,” I say. “But not just yet, ok? Let’s just keep it as our special thing for now.”

What I don’t add because I don’t want to ruin the moment is I want to be certain there is more between us than just hot sex before I tell my dad and turn his world upside down. I’m pretty sure that this isn’t just about the sex, but it can’t hurt to be cautious.

“It will be so much worse if they hear about it from someone else,” Wyatt says.

“I know, but no one else knows so we don’t have to worry about that do we?” I say with a smile, and I give Wyatt a quick kiss on the lips. It seems to persuade him.

“Ok, we’ll give it a couple of weeks,” Wyatt agrees.

CHAPTER27

Wyatt

Ismile to myself as I look back over the copy for Bellisario’s new look website. It’s good, but that’s not why I’m smiling. I’m smiling because when I read it, I can’t help but picture Serena when she was putting it together. It started off with a crescendo of her fingers dancing over her keyboard with a pause here and there and then more of the staccato typing. When the typing stopped, then the tongue came out, poking out of the corner of her mouth as she read back through the piece and made some changes. Finally, she showed it to me, and I could feel her eyes on me as I read it and she tried to gauge my reaction to it.

What stuck in my mind about it was the passion with which Serena put together her copy. I could see it in the sparkle in her eyes, the burning red of her cheeks. I loved that she was so passionate about her work, although, as stupid as it sounds, there was a part of me that was a tiny bit jealous, because I wanted to be the one thing she was looking at when she got that expression on her face.

I wouldn’t change it though. Her passion doesn’t just show on her face when she’s working; it shows in her actual work, and it is a part of what sets her so far ahead of the competition. She has skills, but she has passion and drive, and when she’s working with a client, that emotion transfers to them and their campaign and she really wants them to smash it. And that is what makes her work so brilliant.

I force my thoughts away from Serena for a moment and reach for my desk phone. I pick up the receiver and call through to Ruth.

“Hello?” she says.

“Hey,” I say. “Can you get me Bellisario’s on the line please?”

I check the time and do a quick calculation, making sure I’m not calling at a stupid time due to the time zone difference. I work it out to be four thirty in the afternoon in Italy where the company’s head office is situated.

“I’m connecting you now,” Ruth says.

I thank her and then I hear the click of the call connecting and the buzzing sound of an international call, followed by another quiet click as Ruth hangs up her phone.

“Si?” a male voice says down the line.

“Mr Bellisario?” I ask. “It’s Wyatt McAvoy from Smart Marketing Solutions.”

“Ah si, si. How are you, Wyatt?” he asks me in English almost as good as mine.

“I’m good thank you. How about you?” I ask.

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