Forbidden Desires

by Jenna Hartley

  “No. Why would you ask that?”

  “Because this is the stupidest idea the three of you have come up with and my assumption is that you guys played rock, paper, scissors to see who had to tell me and you lost—again.”

  “Again? I don’t lose any more than they do.”

  Rain pelts the glass, and unbidden, the vision of a drenched Annie Stewart comes to mind. I close my eyes to try to clear my vision, but all I can picture is a white see-through blouse when she returns.

  “Yeah, you do, but that’s not the point.”

  Blanca’s voice pulls me from the daydreams about my assistant. I need to get a handle on this because I don’t screw around at work. It’s the one place I’ve always considered off-limits, but the flush that hit her cheeks when I told her I’d sent her flowers has been preoccupying my thoughts. I can’t help but wonder what her personal situation is.

  What kind of girl is she? Does she screw around or only with people she dates seriously? She finds me attractive, she told me that yesterday. She’s hotter than hell, otherwise I wouldn’t be envisioning her without her clothes on, but no way am I risking my job for a piece of ass.

  “Enzo!” Blanca screams, and I swivel back around at my desk, alert and focused as though Mother Gertrude had just snapped her ruler on the table during history class. “Are you listening to me?”

  “Of course.”

  “What did I say?” I can picture her now, copping attitude and jutting out one hip.

  “That you won’t do it.”

  “Dom’s the oldest, he should be first. You’re right about Mama hurting though. She thinks that you and Dom should’ve been married first since you guys are older than our cousins. Zia can’t stop bragging about her soon-to-be daughters-in-law. Mama feels like she did something wrong.”

  “She has three successful sons. How can she feel that way?” I pick up my pen and tap it on the desk from end to end.

  “None of you have ever brought a woman home. She thinks she didn’t teach you how to respect a woman, for one.”

  I huff. “What makes you an expert?”

  “Hang on.” There’s muffled speaking through the line. I’m pretty sure I caught her lunch order.

  “Where are you?” I ask.

  “Out for lunch.”

  For the first time, I realize that there’s clanking silverware and the other noises of a busy lunchtime restaurant in the background.

  “It’s raining.”

  “No shit, but I don’t have an assistant to weather the storm for me, so I have to brave the elements myself.”

  “Make sure you don’t get soaked. Don’t want to get sick,” I say.

  “Is that your way of buttering me up so I’ll get Ma off your back?”

  “So it’s a hard no?”

  “You’re incredible. Yes, it’s a hard no.”

  “Fine.” My shoulder sags and I lean farther back in my chair. It was a ridiculous idea anyway, but I always follow through on my bets. “How’s the job going anyway?”

  “It sucks. Not that you’d understand but being the low man on the pole sucks.”

  I chuckle. “First, I do know. You think I got to the top of the ivory building without scrapes and bruises? Second, it’s better than working the pole.”

  “Har har, Enzo. The money would be better.”

  “Well, keep up the hard work and the rewards will come.”

  “Thanks for the pep talk. Report back to our dumbass brothers that a fake relationship is not what Ma needs. Find another way to make her happy. And seriously, stop playing rock, paper, scissors to solve everything. No one would think I was the youngest.” There’s some muffled noise and a thank you from Blanca.

  “Enjoy your lunch, sis. Love you.”

  “Love you.”

  We hang up, and I sit at my desk, thinking about Ma wishing she has what Zia has. How can she possibly think it’s her fault that none of her sons want to marry?

  A knock sounds on my door, and I flick my gaze to Annie. I wave her in. She’s dry as a bone. That shouldn’t disappoint me, but it does.

  “Here you go.” She places my lunch on my desk.

  “It’s raining,” I say, like a dumbass.

  She stops mid-stride and glances over her shoulder. “Yeah.”

  “Thank you.”

  Her eyes scrunch up for a second. “You’re welcome.”

  “I’m sorry about earlier. Your romantic relationships are none of my business and I shouldn’t have pried.”

  She circles to fully face me. “Thank you for that.”

  I nod. “Meeting is at two, so bring your A game. Time to prove you deserve to be on this campaign.”

  The smile that was tipping the corners of her lips falter. “Okay.”

  And she’s out of the office and behind her desk in a flash. With the remote, I click the blinds down over my glass door.

  I really need to check myself. I’m talking nonsense. Apologizing for overstepping? Who the hell am I?

  Two o’clock arrives, and the buzz on my phone confirms how well Annie listens.

  “Yes?”

  “Billy and I are here for the two o’clock meeting. Are you dressed?” She laughs, and I hear Billy chuckling.

  “Yes, you guys can come in.”

  Billy holds open the door and Annie walks in with a sketchpad and a notebook. She sits on the couch, crossing her legs and talking to Billy about when her niece was born and how pale I was.

  “You couldn’t have snapped a picture for me?” Billy asks.

  “A little busy getting my hand crushed.” She flexes her fingers. “I’m just getting the feeling back.”

  “My wife actually placed her hands around my throat and swore she’d never have another.”

  I eavesdrop while collecting my stuff to join them.

  “My sister swore the same thing, but I already heard her tell my brother-in-law that they’ll be having more.”

  Billy laughs. “Yeah, they’re like tattoos, addicting.”

  “You have tattoos?” she asks.

  My ears perk up. I wonder if Annie has one and where it might be.

  “Just one. When I was in college. Peer pressure.” He laughs. “You?”

  I bury my head in papers as if I can’t find what I’m looking for.

  “Um… I have one.” She’s hesitant. Why is she hesitant?

  “Where?” Billy’s question is innocent; he’s making conversation. I’m the perv wondering if she has one on her hip bone or right above her ass. Suddenly, the rabid urge to undress her and find it surges through my body.

  “Let’s just say only a few people have seen it.”

  I glance up to see her cheeks are flaming red.

  Billy raises his hand. “Say no more. It’s none of my business.”

  She shrugs. “I asked you first.”

  “Yeah, but mine is a Superman logo on my right shoulder blade. Yours sounds a little more private.”

  She giggles. “Thanks for understanding. You ready over there, slowpoke?”

  “Yeah.” I walk around my desk to the opposite side of the couch. “Who wants to go first?”

  “Ladies first,” Billy says, propping his feet up on my coffee table and resting his hands on his stomach.

  Annie clears her throat, her gaze flicking between us. “I might’ve gone too much on the heartfelt side.”

  I offer her the advice I was given when I started out. “Don’t come at us with a warning label. Just pitch your idea and be confident with what you have.”

  “Okay… um… how about we have two or three couples? Different circumstances. Maybe a teen birth, a couple who isn’t married, and a married couple. We somehow show that life isn’t perfect. Then at the end of the commercial, each baby is delivered, and everyone is happy.”

  “I need a little more,” Billy says. “Also, do we really want to put teen birth out there?”

  “It’s risky, yeah, so maybe just a younger couple—early twenties perhaps. Maybe they strug
gle for money and you see an argument…” Her words trail off. Billy has already changed her mind on her original idea.

  “Annie?” I wait until she’s locked gazes with me. “This is just a shoot-shit-at-the-wall meeting. Relax. Billy’s not judging your idea. He’s poking holes at it because this is what a client does.”

  She nods. “I have some sketches.” She opens up her book.

  Billy’s feet fall to the floor, and he leans in and looks. I have no choice but to slide closer to her. Other than when she fell into my chest a few days ago, I haven’t been this close to her. She smells like a flower with a hint of vanilla.

  “Are you an artist?” Billy asks. Her sketches are well done.

  “I took a few classes in college, but no.”

  “I love the scenes at the end. I think we just need to figure out a way to get there.” I hold out my hand to look at the sketches more closely. She allows me to have them, and I know it took a lot of trust for her to pass them over.

  “How about we do an argument between a wife and husband, either before a holiday or maybe he didn’t do something around the house? I can vouch for pregnant women being demanding.” Billy chuckles.

  Annie’s eyes narrow on Billy. “Would you like to carry a human being around inside you for nine months?”

  I smile, watching it unfold.

  Billy grabs his stomach. “What do you think this is?”

  “That’s by choice.”

  Billy meets her gaze. “I stand by my overreacting pregnant woman idea.” But his smile says he’s joking, and Annie shakes her head, letting it roll off her back.

  “We don’t have a lot of time to portray this. Are we better pitching ideas for three different commercials that will run in rotation? We could have three drastically different couples.” I place the sketchpad on the table.

  “I think if we did them separately, we’d lose the feel that Annie’s suggesting, but yeah, the time constraint is gonna be an issue,” Billy says.

  I walk over to the window to think for a moment. “Maybe we concentrate on one family.” I turn around. “Like your family,” I say to Annie.

  “Um…”

  “I’m not saying your family specifically.” The fear in her eyes that I’d exploit her family for an ad campaign stings, but I brush it off. “We show how everything isn’t perfect between all members within the entire family.”

  Her cheeks flush, matching the shade of apricot in the roses I sent her.

  For the next two hours, we shoot ideas around and Annie sketches a few more ideas. Billy adds to them.

  When we part ways, I’m surprised by how far we got. Who would’ve thought we’d be such a great team? I’ve always worked exclusively with Billy, but I don’t think either of us can deny how much Annie contributed to this pitch. I definitely underestimated her. I can’t wait to see what other surprises she has in store for me.

  Chapter 9

  Annie

  * * *

  Two weeks later, we’re back in the conference room, except this time I’m not skulking in the corner of the room, ready if anyone needs a drink refill. I’m sitting up front with Enzo and Billy.

  Mr. Jacobson walks in before the clients arrive, while I’m straightening all the proposal booklets. Neither Enzo nor Billy have arrived yet, telling me to stall because something must have happened to the video we prepared for the presentation.

  “Miss Stewart, I’m eager to hear the new pitch.” He unbuttons his coat and puts his hands in his pockets.

  “I’m excited for you to hear it,” I say.

  “How are you getting along with Lorenzo?” He leans against the windowsill.

  His older, more distinguished look screams successful man. Rumor has it he wants to retire soon. He spent his entire life building this company so he could enjoy a younger retirement, but with no kids of his own and since Mr. Earl passed away a few years back, he’s been waiting for someone to hand the day-to-day off to. Lorenzo Mancini seems to be the man he trusts.

  “Good, thank you for asking.” I pour water into the glasses set around the table.

  “Is he welcoming your ideas?”

  I take a moment to think over his question. If he’d asked me three weeks ago, I would’ve said no way would an egomaniac like Enzo Mancini listen to one idea in my head. But the truth is, he’s been receptive. He’s added to my ideas and morphed his own to work around mine. The three of us truly were a team on this campaign. I’m as surprised as the next person by that, because the Enzo Mancini I saw before is not the man I’ve gotten to know. He still hangs up on me and he’s still abrupt, but he’s allowed me to be much more a part of the advertising than Mr. Beardsman ever did.

  “Yes. Very. I will say Mr. Beardsman has been left with temps coming and going which…” I let my sentence trail off because like Mae told me, I have to take what I want once in a while. I realize that I don’t want to go back to working for Mr. Beardsman.

  “I’m aware of the struggles we’ve found in replacing you. Let’s see how today goes and we’ll move forward from there.” He smiles, but his words pretty much mean if the pitch sucks, I’ll be back with Mr. Beardsman, so let’s not get ahead of ourselves. It’s a mental slap to remind me what’s riding on today’s success.

  “Perfect.” I nod.

  Elise’s voice comes through the speaker of the conference room phone. “Annie, Mr. Peterson and company are here.”

  I smile at Mr. Jacobson. “I’ll be right back.”

  Walking out, I inhale deeply the entire way to the front desk, doing my best to rein in my nerves.

  “Mr. Peterson, so nice to see you again.” I hold out my hand.

  He turns away from his daughter, Blair, and shakes my hand. “Miss Stewart, we’re eager to see what you’ve added.”

  I shift my attention to Blair. “Miss Peterson.”

  “Blair,” she says with a smile.

  I return her smile and continue shaking hands with the other employees in attendance. We file into the conference room, and I blow out a relieved breath when I see Enzo talking with Mr. Jacobson. They part and say their hellos before everyone is seated. It takes me a second to realize that Billy is still missing. Not a good sign.

  I sit down and open my proposal to find a Post-it note inside, written in Enzo’s scrawl.

  * * *

  Don’t freak out. Video is gone. We’re going old school with your sketches.

  * * *

  My eyes widen, my heart rate skyrockets toward the sun, and I look at Enzo.

  He shoots me a look to say yeah, we’re kind of screwed, then stands and addresses the room. “Thank you for giving us this second opportunity to show you how we can help you achieve your goals. As you’re aware, we’ve added Annie Stewart to our team, and I say with confidence that she’s brought just what was needed to give you what we think is a winning campaign for your diaper line.”

  “I hope so,” Mr. Peterson says, eyeing me.

  Blair beams at me since she liked my first idea. I hope I don’t disappoint her. I’m all too familiar with what that feels like, given my relationship with my mother.

  “That being said, we had some last-minute technical difficulties. We hired actors and filmed the shots, but unfortunately, the file was corrupted somehow… well, I’m not going to act like I have any idea what the technical details are, but the result is the same. There isn’t a mock commercial to show you on the screen.” He smiles to mask his annoyance. “Thankfully, Miss Stewart is a pretty great artist and we’re going to act through some storyboards she prepared to pitch our idea, so be kind. My acting skills aren’t stellar.”

  Everyone in the room laughs, and I tilt my head, trying to understand what he’s talking about. We’re not acting out the sketches. They speak for themselves.

  Right?

  But Enzo meets my gaze and his expression says, “Did you not understand what I meant from my Post-it note?”

  He’s got to be kidding. I cannot stand in front of these people
and act.

  He props up on the easel a sketch of the first scene, and his eyes shoot to me, silently telling me to stand. I slide my chair out from the table, my legs wobbly and shaking, and make my way over to him. He’s totally joking. This is some initiation thing that he and Billy cooked up. No way can he be serious.

  But Enzo continues. “The first scene is a couple arguing about family coming to visit. The wife tells her husband how his mother hates her…”

  I see the lines I’m supposed to say, but I’m a deer in headlights, staring at Enzo.

  All right, it’s time for him to laugh and say he’s just joking. But all he’s doing is widening his eyes, telling me to start.

  I clear my throat and place my hands on my non-existent belly. “Here I am ready to pop, and your mom is going to run her finger along every shelf, judging the fact that I don’t dust every day.” My voice shakes, but I get the line out.

  Enzo smiles then schools his features. “She loves you.”

  “She hates me, and you know it.”

  Enzo rolls his eyes just like the husband is supposed to. “What about your dad? He’s always being passive-aggressive with comments like ‘it’s a forest out there’ because I only mow the lawn once a week.”

  “He’s joking. That’s what he does.” I rub my belly since the actress is supposed to be resting from cleaning.

  Enzo puts up the next card.

  God help me, how many are there again?

  “Your parents are here. Your dad double parked—again.”

  “You know he hates coming to the city,” I say.

  “So instead of him finding a parking spot himself, I’m supposed to go out there and drive around for an hour?”

  I place my hand on his shoulder as though we’re staring out a window together. My fingertips explode with tingles. The scent of his cologne hits my nostrils, and I suppress a full body shiver. “They’ll be gone in a few hours.”

  I glance at the script. I’m supposed to kiss his cheek. Surely, he doesn’t expect me to do that. But Enzo waits, his eyes imploring me. I rise to my tiptoes, my hand on his shoulder, and press my lips to his cheek as quick as can be, then I fall back down to my heels, pretending I didn’t want to leave my lips there longer.