by Olivia Miles
His jaw pulsed. “Explain to me what I could have done differently.”
“You set me up to fail, Sam. You brought me in on that toothpaste campaign, and then you shot down every idea I had.”
“Lila . . .” Sam sighed wearily. He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger, grimacing.
“But then, to sweeten the deal, you never bothered to call. We’d been dating for six months, Sam. Was I just left to assume it was over? Job and boyfriend? One fell swoop? Did you just decide one day you’d grown bored with me? Let your daddy do your dirty work?” She’d said far more than she’d ever wanted to say, but now that it was out, she felt a strange sense of relief. He’d hurt her. Why hide it?
With a shaking hand, Lila reached for her wine glass and took a long sip. And then another. She needed to calm down; things had gone too far in too short an amount of time.
The waitress arrived at their table, ready to take their orders. Already forgetting what she’d decided on, Lila flipped open the menu and, struggling to see through the glare of her glasses, took them off in frustration and settled on the risotto. Sam watched all this with a twitch in his lips, waiting until the server had left before saying. “I was sort of liking the sexy librarian look.”
Lila felt her back teeth graze. Enough was enough. Nothing he could say could lighten the mood. Nothing he could say could undo what he’d done.
Lila placed her napkin on the table. “I’m sorry, Sam, but I think I should leave. This . . . this wasn’t a good idea.” In fact, it was a terrible idea. Just as terrible as the one where she thought she could actually work with this impossible man again. How had her life come so full circle? Once again, her fate was in Sam’s hands. Of all people.
“Wait.” Sam placed a firm hand on her wrist, forcing her to stop. It had been so long since he’d touched her, but his skin felt familiar—soft and warm. Right.
Wrong. She snatched herself from his grip, and set her hands on her hips. People at nearby tables were no doubt staring by now, but she didn’t care. All she cared about was the way Sam looked tonight, and the way that made her feel. She wanted to hate him, but a bigger part of her just wanted him. Why couldn’t she have found a nice attractive man by now? Nice being the operative word.
“I’m sorry I upset you. It wasn’t my intention. Really.”
Sam’s lips were spread thin with displeasure, but his eyes were soft. Lila hesitated ever so briefly before feeling her own features relax and her shoulders loosen.
“We used to have fun once, Lila. Didn’t we?”
Lila gave a sad smile and lowered her eyes, thinking back fondly on the laughter they had once shared, the way her breath caught every time he put his hand on the small of her back, the way her heart skipped a beat when he entered a room. “We did,” she admitted, and then stopped herself right there.
“Did you know I have a boat?” Sam mused, looking out over the harbor. Before she could reply that no, she did not, because Sam had never really shared much about his life but somehow she had overlooked this major red flag, he said, “I keep it on the Cape. At our beach house. I always wanted to take you on it sometime.”
Why was he telling her this? She frowned and waited until she had found the right words before replying. “You stopped seeing me, Sam. You didn’t call, you didn’t come over. You didn’t even end things. You were just . . . gone.”
“It was complicated, Lila.” He sighed, and his eyes turned a little flat.
“But you can’t say those types of things now. You can’t talk about things we might have done. You made a choice.”
He opened his mouth as if he was about to argue with her and then, after a pause, closed it again. “You’re right. I made a choice.” He shrugged. “Some things just aren’t meant to be, I guess.”
Lila folded her arms across her chest, feeling a heavy weight of disappointment settle in. “No. They’re not.”
“Will you at least sit down?” Sam pointed to the chair. Lila didn’t flinch. “Look, you’re stuck with me for at least another two weeks,” Sam continued. “After that you never have to see me again. If we land the account, I’ll make sure we divide up the work so you do your share and I do mine. And Lila,” he added pointedly, forcing her eyes to his. “I intend to win this account.”
At this, Lila sat back down. “I intend to win the account, too.” She was proud of the work she did, the loyal clients, the steady income, but this was different. This was an opportunity of a lifetime, as Mitch Reed had been so quick to point out.
“So what do you say we make the best of our time together?” Sam raised an eyebrow. Perhaps it was an invitation, perhaps it was a challenge. Either way, it was clear that he wasn’t going to take no for an answer.
The thought of never seeing Sam again left a knot in the pit of her stomach. She hadn’t allowed herself to miss him for a long time; hating him had been so much easier.
Thousands of men were handsome, she reminded herself. Movie stars were a prime example. It didn’t mean you had to go weak in the knees when they behaved badly.
“Two weeks. How hard can it be?” she asked, and managed to force back that little flutter that threatened to release when he flashed her a grin.
Sam may have made millions off his powers of persuasion, but it would take more than a dazzling smile to win her over again.
Chapter Four
Sam wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. Panting for breath, he set a foot on a wooden park bench and tightened the laces on his running shoes. It was a cool morning, damp from a midnight rain, and few people were out at this time of day. He was still running on East Coast time, up too early, left to pace his hotel room. He’d been out the door at the first sign of daybreak and clocked his seven miles at a personal best, his feet doing overtime to keep up with his racing thoughts.
He’d been up since three, meaning he’d managed four hours of sleep after returning from dinner with Lila—it had taken a good hour to relax enough to drift off.
The recollection of her in that little black number last night still made him squirm with pleasure even now. The girl he knew back in New York didn’t dress that way, but then, that girl had turned into a woman, hadn’t she? But even though she appeared so different at first glance, she was still the same Lila underneath. He’d seen it shine through once she allowed herself to enjoy dinner last night. The laughter. The quick wit. The warmth in those eyes. That stubborn streak. The way she could disarm him with a curl of her smile. It was all still there.
He could still remember the first time he’d seen her. She strolled into his office all fresh faced and eager, looking for a file. She’d introduced herself and held out a hand, not knowing at the time who he was or what his last name was. That he was a Crawford. He’d kept it that way when he asked her how her first day was going and invited her to sit. Perhaps because she was young, perhaps because she needed a friend, or perhaps because his smile was so genuine, she’d sat down and gratefully poured her heart out to him. He listened as she told him about how nervous she was, how she couldn’t believe how small apartments were in the city, how she didn’t even know the code to the bathroom. She reminded him of the way he had felt on his first day on the job three years earlier—out of place. A sentiment no one on staff could ever assume coming from the boss’s son.
She was sweet, special, and incredibly sexy. She was the one woman who had succeeded in getting under his skin and lingering there. All these years. Just out of reach.
But it didn’t matter how he felt. Lila clearly had an opinion of him, and it wasn’t a good one.
Sam’s gut tightened as he remembered the impossible position she had left him in all those years before. His father was notorious for hiring and firing new graduates; they had a few months to impress him, and if they didn’t succeed, they were out. There was no learning curve. No second chance. Not even for Sam. Especially for Sam. The son with the uphill climb. The son who had to prove
himself. The son who had to earn his birthright.
He reached the southern edge of Lincoln Park and began walking down Lake Shore Drive. At six thirty in the morning, the luxury apartment buildings to his right were still dark; the doormen visible through the lobby windows looked tired and bored. Up ahead, skyscrapers loomed high above him, the sidewalk turning wide and vacant as he neared Michigan Avenue. Few places would be open for breakfast this hour, and with a curl of his lip, Sam noticed a Jolt Coffee storefront across the street.
Three years had gone into that account. Endless commercials, meetings, catchy new taglines. He used to feel like a traitor for not exclusively drinking their coffee. Now he felt like a traitor for even considering it.
Deciding to go back to the hotel and order room service, Sam jogged the rest of the way. It was almost eight by now in New York, and anything could be unfolding at the office. As soon as he was in his room, he turned on the morning news, listening to the headlines while he skimmed the Internet. Nothing about Jolt Coffee popped up. Hopefully this meant they had bought themselves another day. They’d need thirteen more of those to really be in the clear, though. Ideally, they’d announce the Reed Sugar account before talk of Jolt Coffee hit the industry rags.
Satisfied, he called his brother. “Rex, it’s Sam.” He wedged his phone between his chin and shoulder and pulled off his running shoes. “Anything new?”
“No buzz here.” Rex’s voice was scratchy, an indication he hadn’t slept.
“Do we have a press release ready yet?”
“Just looking over the draft now. They want a direct quote from you on talks with Reed Sugar. Tell them how sweet it is, Sam.”
Sam chewed at his bottom lip. “I hate to drop their name before the deal has been signed. If something goes wrong at the last minute and we don’t get the account, we’ll end up looking worse.”
The phone was silent on the other end. Confused, Sam pulled the device from the crook of his neck and studied the screen. He was still connected. “Rex?”
“Nothing can go wrong, Sam,” Rex said bluntly, his tone deceptively calm.
A familiar knot formed in Sam’s stomach and settled itself like a heavy weight. It had taken a long time for Rex to warm up to him and even longer to accept Sam as a player in the family business. Sam had worked hard for his brother’s support, and somewhere along the line Rex had backed down, looked over the wall he had built up. It was expected that there would be animosity—Rex considered himself the legitimate son, thought of Sam as the black sheep. To Rex, Sam had come out of nowhere, claiming what was his. Fighting for it.
Sibling rivalry was not lost on the two brothers, especially when it came to the agency. Rex still struggled with the transition of joint partnership; if it had been up to Rex, he probably would have overseen the agency on his own, with Sam as second in command. Or possibly, not in the picture at all.
Sam stayed firm. “I won’t go on record naming Reed until we’ve signed them. If you need a quote, have them say something like we’re in final discussions with a major household brand . . . you follow?”
“I’ll be in touch,” Rex said wearily.
Sam set the phone on the desk and peeled his sweaty shirt from his back. If he’d learned anything since yesterday, it was that Lila was determined to prove something to him. If she was willing to go so far as to put her pride before the success of this campaign, she’d leave him no other choice, just like she had six years ago.
He had fought too hard for too many years to prove himself as a Crawford. It had taken him twenty years to find his family—and nothing, not even Lila, could stand in his way of belonging to them.
***
She was thinking about Sam again. Not about the way he’d stood coldly in his sleek New York office building and watched her walk out of his life, but about the way he’d looked last night with his lazy smile and kind eyes. Like the guy she’d fallen in love with, not the guy who’d let her down.
She could still feel the heat of his gaze on her when he’d put her into the cab, and then watched as she gave the driver her address, his hands thrust deep in his pockets, his jaw set. She shouldn’t be thinking of him like this, she knew. She shouldn’t be thinking of him at all! She should be thinking of her sister, and that empty storefront that never should have gone dark.
She glanced at the clock in the bottom left corner of her computer screen. She had less than half an hour to pull herself together and shed all thoughts of Sam’s rugged good looks from her mind. There was simply no time for girlish crushes. She was a professional businesswoman with a make it or break it account at stake. If she blew her career over thoughts of Sam, she’d have no one to blame but herself. Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice . . . There would be no fooling her this time.
Lila opened her files and began organizing herself for the meeting. Sugar. Sweet. Used in pretty much everything. Pure. Raw. Cake. Cookies.
She smiled. Ice cream.
She furiously scribbled some ideas in her notebook, her hand barely able to keep up with her mind, until a knock at the door interrupted her.
“He’s gorgeous!” Penny hissed.
‘Who is?” Lila inquired, though she sensed she already knew the answer.
“Sam Crawford!” Penny whispered gleefully, closing the door carefully behind her. Lila could see the sheen in Penny’s bright green eyes. A certain glow that only came about when something unexpected and wonderful collided all at once. A rare gem, so to speak. And Sam was certainly that in the looks department, at least. And in the charm department, as well.
The cad.
Penny had obviously wasted no time in appreciating Sam’s natural flirtatious air and good looks. To her credit, she had no idea that Lila ever had anything but a professional connection to him, and Lila decided it best to keep it this way. Drudging up the past would only open old wounds. Besides, none of it mattered anymore. Lila would work with Sam on the Reed Sugar campaign, and in two weeks, he would go back to New York. Just as he said. She’d go back to her life as if this little interruption had never happened, and eventually . . . eventually she would forget about him again. Hopefully.
“Sam.” Lila smiled politely as she opened the French doors to the waiting room. Her gaze fell to Fred, who was drooping a little more than usual—an indication that Penny had yet again forgotten to water him.
“Hello,” Sam smiled effortlessly, and Lila’s pulse skittered.
Get a grip, she scolded herself. Furrowing her brow, she waved him into her office. It was time to concentrate.
Hot on her heels, Penny flitted nervously with an eager smile said, “Can I get you anything, Sam? Coffee? Water? Tea?” She brought a hand up to her chin-length hair and smoothed it down.
Sam met Lila’s eye, fighting off a smile. “I’m fine, thanks.”
“Okay.” Penny hovered, reluctant to let go of Sam’s presence just yet. She turned at the door once more. “Just let me know if you change your mind. I sit right out there. Front desk. Next to the plant.”
“Thanks,” Sam smiled.
“Thank you, Penny,” Lila said, signaling for Penny to close the door behind her. She glanced in Sam’s direction, studying him as she spread her notebook on the desk and arranged herself in her chair.
Sam dropped into the visitor’s chair. “That plant in your waiting room looks a little sad.”
“Please don’t insult the man in my life,” Lila said briskly, but she struggled to fight off a grin.
“Ah, so there isn’t a lucky guy in your world? I’d have thought a girl like you would be snatched up by now.”
Lila’s eyes narrowed reflexively. He was certainly pleased with himself, wasn’t he? No doubt there was a girlfriend in his life. Not that she cared. Not that she cared one bit.
She cleared her throat and glared at Sam. “Ready to begin?”
“Just you and me then?” Sam’s eyes twinkled with interest.
Despite her better judgment, Lila’s heart flipped at the
undertone. “Yep,” she replied crisply.
“This is a nice little setup,” Sam remarked, sweeping his eyes over the sage green walls and French doors leading back to Penny. And Fred. Lila had selected green as her main color because it was supposed to induce creative thoughts, but she didn’t bother telling Sam this. It would only prolong his stay, and the sooner they got this over with, the better. “I thought maybe you worked from home.”
“I’m not a hobbyist, Sam. I have a steady client base, and, despite your opinion, I’m good at what I do.” Lila waited a beat. “Now, would you like to present your thoughts, or should I go first?” She glanced in his direction, forcing herself to hold his gaze, even if those blue eyes did make her insides go a little mushy. It had been nice, talking to him last night, not about work, not about the past, but just about safe topics . . . food, travel, movies. She’d missed that.
“Ladies first,” Sam leaned back in his seat, his hands folded loosely in his lap, as a strange little smile tugged at his mouth.
Lila felt her lips thin in annoyance. Here they were, equals in the eyes of Reed Sugar, and Sam still thought he was the one in charge. Well, he was sorely mistaken.
She shifted in her chair and pressed her shoulders back, reminding herself to stay focused and to not feed in to those sparkling blue eyes or that killer smile that no doubt won him dozens of accounts.
Sam might be the go-to guy in advertising, but he was more trouble than he was worth.
***
Sam watched with growing curiosity as Lila’s determination unfolded before him. She had never been good at hiding her emotions, and Sam knew her far too well to be fooled. The lift of her chin, the purse of her lips, and the flash of fury in those hazel eyes were dead giveaways. She was gearing up for a battle, and she wasn’t going down without a fight.
“Here, before you begin.” Sam stood and walked around the desk, pulling his chair close next to Lila’s, watching as her eyes grew wide in alarm. If she wasn’t making life so damn difficult at the moment, he’d find her haughty attitude completely irresistible.
