by Mia Sosa
She tapped her pen on the table. “We work closely with a website designer who can turn it around quickly. If your goal is to get it up and running before then, we’d need those new headshots as soon as possible.”
Spencer drummed his fingers on the table. “If we retain you, what’s your best estimate of how much time you’d be spending on our firm’s PR?”
“That depends on your needs. I’d say twenty hours in the next two weeks, and it would taper off dramatically after that. Also, we’ll be monitoring your publicity, but that’s something we’ll do on our dime, as a measure of our results, and that can be done remotely.”
She risked a glance at Daniel, expecting to see him watching her, but he was staring out the window, his hands folded on the table. “Any other questions?”
Daniel turned his head and pinned her with a clear gaze. “I have one question.”
Her heart thudded in her chest. Was he about to make his objections known? “What’s that?”
His smile injected a jolt of life into his flat expression. “When can we begin?”
She swept her gaze around the table and registered the smiles of the others. “As soon as you’d like,” was her stunned answer. Expecting a sense of relief to flood her senses, Mimi furrowed her brows when a knot formed in the pit of her stomach instead.
Wow. She’d gotten the gig. So why I am not as excited as I thought I’d be?
Daniel stood. “I have a meeting at eleven o’clock. I’ll leave you to work out the arrangements with Jason.” He picked up his legal pad and left the room without so much as a nod in her direction.
There. That was the answer. Now she’d have to work with Daniel, but obviously he wasn’t happy about it. She had to figure out a way around the awkwardness. I can do this. I will do this.
But how?
* * *
What she’d needed was perspective—and a couple of days out of Daniel’s presence. In that time, Mimi had come up with a plan. While she generally avoided treating her clients with any kind of familiarity, her history with Daniel called for a different approach as to him. He’d gotten to know the version of her she shared with friends and people outside work. Interacting with him as though he were no different than the other men in his firm now seemed horribly unfair. She’d almost had sex with the man. So going forward, she’d relax a little around him. Maybe in turn he’d relax, too, and then they’d be able to work together without suffocating from the thick tension between them.
Though she now had a plan, she wasn’t quite ready to implement it. And she refused to dwell on the reasons why. Still, she had a job to do, so she traveled to the Cambridge Group’s offices Wednesday morning to check on the photography session she’d arranged for the men.
Mimi stopped at Felicia’s desk on her way in.
“Are the men being tortured yet?”
The receptionist gave her a mischievous grin. “They are. The photographer’s using the main conference room.”
“Great. I’m going to take a look.”
Mimi’s heels clicked across the marble floor. She mentally reminded herself to suggest an area rug for the reception area. “Felicia, who’s up now?”
“Daniel.”
Mimi’s stride slowed. As usual, her timing was perfect. Dammit. “Anyone else left to go?”
“They’re all done, I think.”
Great. If she turned around and left, Felicia would wonder why. And she did not need Felicia wondering anything. She continued down the hall and braced herself for the impact of seeing him again.
She pulled open the double doors of the conference room and tiptoed inside.
The photographer had transformed the room into his personal studio, complete with the ubiquitous blue backdrop she’d seen in a thousand-and-one other headshots. Daniel sat on a stool with one foot on the floor and the other resting on the stool’s crossbar.
He acknowledged her with a curt nod and turned his attention to the scene outside the conference room window.
Well, it’s nice to see you, too.
The photographer positioned himself in front of his digital camera, which rested on a steel tripod that probably cost more than Mimi’s entire outfit. “Turn your body at a slight angle facing me,” the photographer told Daniel.
“Like this?” Daniel asked.
“Yes, that’s great. Now give me a warm smile.”
Daniel complied, giving them the charming, arresting smile Mimi had seen him use in social settings, the one that said, I’m the life of the party, and you should want to get to know me. It matched his perfectly combed hair and the flawless fit of his navy blue two-piece suit. Even the tie, blood red and slim, rested in the middle of his chest as though it were ironed into place. And it was all wrong. In fact, nothing about the shot worked.
Several clicks of the camera later, Mimi stepped in. “Can I have a word with you?” she asked the photographer.
The photographer ambled over to her. “What’s up?”
“First, let me make clear that you’re giving me exactly what I asked of you.”
“Why do I get the feeling that’s not a good thing?”
“It’s not, unfortunately. But it’s also not your fault. It’s mine. Seeing the setup made me realize that I’m looking for something a little different for these guys. One of the points we’re working on for branding is their commitment to environmentally friendly design. So now it occurs to me that a headshot won’t do. Any chance we could take a few photos outside? In the park across the street?”
The photographer shrugged. “I get paid by the hour, Ms. Pennington. If you want photos outside, you can have photos outside. But I’ve got another appointment at three, so we’d have to be done before then.”
Mimi clapped her hands together. “Great.” She jerked a thumb in Daniel’s direction. “Now let me get the honcho’s okay.”
She straightened her shoulders and took a deep breath. Is it strange that I want to wish myself good luck?
Daniel watched her approach, his face impassive in a way that was at odds with his usual happy-go-lucky shtick.
“Hi, Daniel.”
“Mimi.”
Not going to make this easy, huh? “So I have an idea about the photos.”
“Yeah?”
“Yes. I’m thinking we should try a few shots outside. It’ll be a good way to play up the firm’s environmental spin.”
“Is that what we’re calling it? A spin?”
“The firm’s track record for creating environmentally friendly designs is part of its branding, yes, but if calling it a spin troubles you, we don’t have to call it that.”
“You’re so accommodating.”
“Look, can we not do this here?” she said as she gestured around her. “Let’s get these new shots. I’ll round up the rest of the gang, and the photographer will get started with you. Game?”
He said nothing for a moment. Simply watched her. She wanted to fidget, but she willed herself not to. And she realized then that his brown eyes held the key to his true mood. Whatever he showed on the outside, if his eyes didn’t match it, it wasn’t true. To anyone who hadn’t made that connection, he would have looked at ease and unaffected by her presence. But his eyes told a different story; they were focused so intently on her that the chirping birds and blaring car horns faded out of her consciousness until all she saw or heard revolved around him.
He broke eye contact first. “Fine. I’m doing a poor job of showing it, but I do trust your expertise.”
In the breathless moment before he’d called that silent truce, she’d wondered whether working together was asking too much of both of them. But he’d indicated a willingness to try, and she certainly had more reasons than he to make the effort. She smiled. “Okay, then. I’ll gather the rest of the troops and meet you outside.”
Minutes later, Mimi ran across the four-lane street, and joined Daniel and the photographer in the park. “The rest of the guys went to lunch,” she told them. “We’ll have to
do theirs another time.” This was a good thing, actually. If the photos didn’t work, she’d only inconvenience Daniel, and since they weren’t on such great terms to begin with, she could live with that.
The photographer tested a few shots with Daniel seated on a bench. Mimi peeked at the photos filling the digital screen. Much better. The natural lighting and outdoor setting gave the image the relaxed feel she’d been looking for. But something was still off. She bit her lip in contemplation.
“Are you itching to say something, Mimi?” Daniel asked.
The sun’s rays hit his face, causing him to squint as he looked up at her.
“I’m thinking.” With her head tilted, she paced behind the photographer. “I’ve got it. Let’s make a few adjustments.”
“Like what?”
“Unbutton your jacket.”
He used his hand to shade his face as he peered at her. Dammit. The command had seemed harmless in her head, but it conjured images of him stripping for her in Puerto Rico. Slowly, he unbuttoned his jacket, his gaze never leaving hers.
“Anything else I can do for you? Should I ditch the tie, too?” he asked.
Mimi swallowed, her throat dry and tight, as he raised his hands to his collar. Suddenly, a dozen images flashed through her brain: his striptease, the way he’d used his body to push her against the elevator wall, the press of his impressive erection against her stomach, and the jolt of electricity that had coursed through her when she’d stroked him.
“No,” she told him once her brain’s synapses had begun firing again. “The shirt and tie stay on.”
He settled his hand on his stomach. “As you wish. What else?”
Mimi eyed the photographer.
“This is your vision,” he said. “Go for it.”
“Can you sit on the bench back with your feet on the seat?” Mimi asked Daniel. She leaned over to demonstrate. “Maybe rest your elbows on your legs and cross your hands together under your chin?”
For a few seconds, Daniel said nothing, his eyes skating over her body as she showed him what she meant. “You’re quite the bossy one, aren’t you?”
This was exactly the progress she’d hoped for, and because they had history, she’d allow him some leeway. “Quit it.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
With a half smile on his face, Daniel followed her instructions as the photographer captured each pose. Mimi rounded the tripod and looked at the recent set of photos. Definitely an improvement. They were close, but not quite there. She went over to Daniel and ruffled his hair. She was so immersed in getting the perfect shot that she breached his personal space, the intimacy of having her hands on him freezing her on the spot.
He stood, his eyes narrowing as he surveyed her face. “This isn’t fair, Mimi. You’ve got to give me a break here.”
She jumped back at his words. “I was just trying to make you look less pristine. We need to make you approachable, less starchy.”
He pinned her with a narrow-eyed stare.
“Can you put one foot on the bench? Be casual but authoritative?”
“I’ll do my best.” Then he adjusted his body as she’d suggested.
Mimi turned to the photographer. “Can you grab this shot?”
The photographer nodded and clicked his camera. Mimi glanced at the digital screen again and gave Daniel a thumbs-up. “We’ve got it.”
The photographer packed up his equipment while Mimi checked her phone for recent e-mail messages.
Daniel slipped back into his jacket as he sauntered over to her. “You know your comments about my so-called perfect appearance are starting to offend me.”
Mimi quirked her lips. “You? Offended? I figured that was impossible given you’re coated in a protective barrier of ego no single barb could ever hope to penetrate.”
Daniel jumped back, jerking with each step as though her words had physically struck him. “I’m wounded,” he said in a strained voice.
“Acting is not your strong suit,” she said in a flat tone. “Anyway, you can’t argue with the facts. I’ve seen you numerous times, in different settings, from a gala to a housewarming, and I’ve never seen a single hair on your head out of place.”
He inched closer and stopped just short of her. “Are you suggesting I can’t get dirty? Because I assure you I can be very dirty when necessary.”
Well, shit. She should have seen that one coming. The sound of his voice was a physical caress, and as effective as any foreplay she’d ever experienced. Mimi couldn’t think of a quip fast enough, not when she was focused on suppressing any outward sign of the tremor that ran through her. Instead, she breathed him in, registering the heat of his body and the scent of him—sunny, salty, and too much for her senses. “Prove it, then.”
His pupils dilated before his eyelids fell to half-mast. “God, I’ve wanted you to say that for so long.”
Before he could advance any further, Mimi scrambled out of his reach. “Wait. What are you doing?”
“I’m going to show you how dirty I can be—”
“I didn’t mean right now, Daniel. I have something else in mind.”
He pursed his lips and blew out a long breath. “Oh?”
“I was thinking we could run a race together. It’s called the Dirty Thirty.”
He scrunched his brows. “What’s that?”
“The Dirty Thirty is an annual mud run at National Harbor. Two miles, thirty obstacles, and lots of mud. By the end of it, you’ll be caked in dirt. In fact, that mud will find its way into crevices you didn’t even know you had.”
“Sounds delightful.”
“Sounds dirty. Think you’re up for the challenge?”
“How strenuous is the course? Does it require training?”
“Daniel, before my first race, I’d run to the bathroom and get winded. So no, no training required. It’s a charity event, to benefit kids with leukemia. I tried to convince Gracie to do it with me, but she passed. You can sign up online.”
“Hang on. I’m still wrapping my head around the fact that you compete in mud runs.”
She scrunched her nose. “Compete is a bit of an overstatement. I did my first run as part of a work retreat. Under protest, I might add. But I happened to love it, so here we are.”
“When is it?”
“Saturday.”
“This Saturday.”
“Yup.”
“That’s not a lot of time.”
“Time for what?”
He tugged on his lip and considered her. “Never mind.” After a few seconds, he grinned. “What’s in it for me?”
“Other than proving me wrong about your need for perfection? Nothing.”
“Eh. Proving you wrong on that point isn’t worth it. But…”
“But what?”
“But I’d do it for a chance to spend an evening with you. Dinner, dancing, whatever.”
The man was relentless. But she’d opened herself up to the suggestion, hadn’t she? “C’mon, Daniel. That’s not fair. We’ve been over this before.”
“As friends, Mimi. Dinner, dancing, and whatever as friends. You don’t doubt your ability to resist me under those circumstances, right?”
Of course she did. To him, though, she said, “Absolutely not. I don’t doubt my ability to resist you under any circumstances.”
“Then wouldn’t it be worth it to you? To see me covered in dirt from head to toe. I’d even let you take a gloating selfie with my filthy body in the background.”
Was it? Was it worth it? Oh, yes, dinner with Daniel was definitely worth seeing him covered in mud—so long as the dinner remained professional, which it would. “You’re on. Dinner only. No dancing. And definitely no whatever.”
“Dinner this Saturday then.”
“This Saturday?”
“Yes, this Saturday.”
She nodded as though the prospect of having dinner with him were no big deal. But it was. “Fine.”
“Great.”
Yeah. Gr
eat.
What had she gotten herself into?
CHAPTER TEN
Saturday morning, Mimi drove from D.C. to National Harbor, an area just south of the district that ran along the Potomac River in Maryland. To Mimi, the outlet mall and a small restaurant on the main street were its best attractions. The latter served the most delicious margarita she’d ever tasted, and she’d tasted lots of them in her lifetime.
The crisp October air heightened her senses and energized her for the race to come. As she waited in line to check in, she scanned the crowd for Daniel. Though she’d invited him as a challenge, she secretly hoped he’d have fun. If he whined about his hair being dirty—even once—she’d consider it his loss. As far as she was concerned, someone who couldn’t have fun at a mud run was not her kind of people.
She rose on her toes and searched the throng of runners. Where is he?
Behind her, a body came too close, brushing against her backside. Mimi whipped around, ready to berate the stranger for invading her personal space. She groaned when she discovered the body was Daniel’s.
“Looking for me?” he said.
Now that she realized he wasn’t a creeper trying to cop a feel, she missed the warmth of his body against her back. But she wasn’t supposed to be having these feelings about Daniel. Dammit to hell. Okay, maybe he wasn’t a stranger-danger-type threat, but yeah, he was still a threat.
She couldn’t see his eyes behind the designer sunglasses he wore, but she could just imagine that his eyes were twinkling, a perfect match to his playful grin. “You almost scored yourself a knee to the nuts.”
“Now’s not the time to share your kinks with me, Mimi. We agreed to keep this professional, remember?”
She sucked her teeth and waved his comment away like a pesky fly. “Glad to see you showed up. For a minute there, I wondered if you’d chickened out.”
“And forfeit a chance to take you to dinner? Never.”
He considered dinner with her a prize? That was kind of sweet, actually—assuming he didn’t have an ulterior motive. But who was she kidding? With men like Daniel, dinner always came with an ulterior motive. Guarding herself against his disarming nature, she refocused on the reason for her invitation: to get him dirty.
