His Little Black Book

by Heather MacAllister

  Sophie was pulling on her shorts when she noticed that Adrian had gone very quiet. “What?”

  “It might be awkward or embarassing, but a disaster?”

  “Well, not a disaster for you, but for me, it would—careerwise.”

  “Why?”

  Did she have to spell it out? “Because if nobody knows about us, if we keep our relationship quiet, I can still work on your campaign without people thinking it’s because I’m sleeping with you.”

  “I see.”

  But he didn’t sound convinced so she kept talking. “Getting credit for a Super Bowl spot in my portfolio, especially at my age, is huge. It’ll make my career. Unless it bombs—and it won’t—I’ll get promoted for sure…my own accounts…probably my own team…and I don’t want my achievement tainted.” Tainted didn’t sound so good, even though it was accurate.

  More silence. Not the content, sated, lazy afterglow silence they’d experienced several times, but the not good silence.

  “So you want to sneak around.”

  Tainted had definitely been the wrong word to use. “Adrian! I’m just saying we should keep it to ourselves for a few weeks. Honestly, it would be best for you, too. My ideas for refocusing the Lean Machine campaign are solid and I don’t want Jonathan or Ross—he’s Jonathan’s number-two guy—I don’t want them ignoring my input because of—” she made a little gesture “—us.”

  Sophie couldn’t read his expression, maybe because he stood in front of the window and the late-afternoon sun was behind him. Whatever that face meant, she didn’t like it.

  “So if there’s no Super Bowl ad to worry about, then we’re okay.”

  Sophie froze. A chill literally passed through her. Moving very slowly, she snapped and zipped her shorts and slipped her feet into her flip-flops. “You changed your mind?”

  Their positions had shifted slightly and Sophie could see his face better. She really, really, really hoped he wasn’t testing her.

  “No.”

  She knew there was more. “You don’t want me to work on the campaign.”

  “I don’t think you’ll be able to.”

  “If you ask Jonathan to put me on the team, I will. Those are my ideas.”

  “I know, but Jonathan pitched the green campaign. The Lean Machine proposal you fixed came from Mod Media.”

  No way. Her chest felt tight. “Mod Media out of Dallas?”

  Adrian nodded, watching her carefully.

  “Another agency? You hadn’t hired an agency yet? You were deciding between P&D and Mod Media?” Her voice rose a little. Stay professional. “I assumed both ideas were from P&D.” Which he’d probably figured out and which would explain his earlier expression.

  “There were other agencies, but I’d narrowed it down.”

  Forget being professional. Sophie threw up her arms. “And that’s supposed to make me feel better? I’ve not only lost our agency a multi-million dollar account, I’ve tweaked the competition’s proposal?”

  “You said it was better.”

  “It is.” She couldn’t believe Jonathan. The green thing was totally Mod Media’s style, but clearly, they’d listened to the client while Jonathan had tried to out-Mod Mod Media. “But I thought it was ours. Do you honestly think I would have spent hours working with you—giving you really great stuff to take to the competition?”

  “I thought you believed in me and what I’m trying to do. I thought we’d made a real connection.” His expression turned bitter. That one, she had no trouble reading. “But it was just about the campaign for you. Oh, yeah, and putting a Super Bowl ad in your portfolio which you’ve mentioned, oh, about ninety-five times.”

  She stared at him across the rumpled bed, the bed that reeked of sex. She could not have this conversation here. Whirling around, Sophie blindly walked through the nearest door, which happened to be the bathroom. More to keep her emotions under control than anything else. She gathered her toothbrush and other toiletries and stuffed them into her cosmetic case.

  “Sophie.” Adrian stood in the doorway behind her, reflected in the mirror.

  She’d finished gathering her things but she wasn’t about to push past him. Grabbing her brush, she yanked it through her tangled hair which brought tears to her eyes. What a good cover in case she actually did break down. Which she would, but not here. Not now. Not in front of Adrian.

  “Sophie, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that.”

  She met his eyes in the mirror. “Yes, you did.” Jamming her brush in the case, she decided to risk pushing past him after all.

  He moved aside. Sophie scanned the living room as she flip-flopped her way across the tile to her suitcase, which was still open on the floor beside the kitchen. She hadn’t unpacked much. Tossing in the cosmetic bag, she continued through the kitchen to the laundry where she’d hung up their wet things. Her skirt and suit and cover up were still damp. Too bad. She grabbed them and headed back to her suitcase.

  “Sophie.”

  Ignoring him, she dumped her wet stuff into her suitcase and zipped it.

  “Sophie, stop. I want you to work on the campaign. Your ideas are the best part.”

  “I’m sure it won’t be difficult for Mod Media to incorporate them.” No one else ever had any trouble using her ideas.

  “I won’t go with Mod Media. You can tell Jonathan what to do and I’ll give Peck and Davilla the business.” He smiled crookedly and dropped his hands on her shoulders. “Can we kiss and make up now?”

  Sophie blinked at him. What happened to being totally attuned to each other? “You think I’m angry because P&D will lose the account?”

  “Aren’t you?”

  “I’m disappointed. It’s typical in the business. You win, you lose, you move on. I’m angry because you knew, you had to have known, that I was unaware Mod Media was in the picture and you didn’t tell me. I think you didn’t tell me because you were afraid I wouldn’t help you.”

  “Would you have?”

  Actually, Sophie didn’t resent the question. “I wouldn’t have been able to stop myself. I love the creative process.” She spread her hands. “It’s the way I am. But I would have been more discreet in expressing my opinions and I sure would have worked with the P&D ideas so you’d go with us.”

  “Didn’t you hear me? I am going with P&D. Congratulations.”

  It killed her, but Sophie shook her head. “Mod Media came up with the original concept. Go with them.” Sophie turned away and dragged her suitcase to the door. Sometimes doing the right thing really sucked.

  “Sure. And when I do, that’s the end of us. Unless there was never supposed to be an ‘us.’”

  “Meaning?”

  “Maybe you were just here to close the deal.”

  Unbelievable. And it hurt. Boy, did it hurt. Sophie walked across the room to the kitchen bar and grabbed her phone. Flipping it open, she punched in a number. “Jonathan? It’s Sophie Callahan. Yeah, I’m at the beach house and it’s fine. Listen, I’m here with Adrian Dean. I’ve had a chance to discuss the campaign with him and it looks as though he’s going with Mod Media. The thing is, we really hit it off, and it would be too awkward for him to be working with one agency while I’m working for another. I mean, he’d always suspect me of spying for you or pressuring him to sign with P&D and I don’t want that. So I’m resigning.” She looked directly at a stunned Adrian. “I’ll have a letter on your desk Monday.”

  Well, that certainly shut him up. His skin had actually paled. He should stick with the spray tan.

  “I—I can’t believe you did that.”

  “Oh, please. As if I would.” Sophie snapped her phone shut. “Still no cell service.”

  His mouth worked. “So you didn’t just quit?”

  “Quit my job after one night with you?” She rolled her eyes. “The sex wasn’t that great.” She even sounded convincing.

  “That’s not what you said earlier.”

  “You hadn’t just accused me of sleeping with you so
you’d hire Peck and Davilla.”

  They stared at each other. This would be a good time for him to apologize.

  “Sophie, you’ve got to admit how it looks.”

  It looked as though she’d just had a one-night stand, that’s how it looked.

  Cold fury. That’s what she was feeling. An anger so intense it surpassed the explosive stage. “I’ll admit that I don’t like this conversation. I’ll admit that you’re pretty naive if you expect me to believe you thought Peck and Davilla gave you the use of a beach house that rents for $6,000 a week during high season without any expectations at all. You led us on.”

  He had the grace to look away.

  “On the other hand, I told you to go with Mod Media. I told you they had the better campaign. But I can certainly see where you would assume I was practicing reverse psychology.” She snapped her fingers. “Darn. My devious plan didn’t work.”

  She slung her purse over her shoulder. She would have liked to have made a grand exit, but she needed her coffee grinder. Stalking into the kitchen, she yanked the cord from the useless outlet. The food could stay. She hoped it rotted.

  “Sophie, you can’t leave.” Adrian stood in her path. “I’ve been outside. There’s high water and debris all over the road. You’ll have to dig out your tires.”

  “Then I’ll dig out my tires.” She slid open the door and dragged her suitcase outside.

  Adrian followed her until she glared at him with an expression designed to wither at fifty paces.

  “It’s not safe,” he said.

  “Lesser of two evils.”

  “Sophie, don’t be stupid.”

  She gave him a tight smile. “Too late.”

  7

  “I AM A PROFESSIONAL.”

  “I am a professional.”

  “I am a professional.”

  “I am a pro—Screw it.”

  It was Monday morning, just after seven-thirty. A soggy Houston was still drying out after the storm and a soggy Sophie had vowed to quit crying over Adrian.

  He hadn’t called. It wasn’t until Sunday afternoon that Sophie remembered that they’d never exchanged phone numbers. Bodily fluids, yes, phone numbers, no. He didn’t know where she lived, either. Oh, sure, he could have called Jonathan…but she hadn’t wanted to think about that. Until now. Now she was going to face Jonathan, find out what the heck happened to everybody on Friday night and give him a heads up about Adrian going with Mod Media.

  Because she was a professional.

  “He’s not in today,” Cammy told her as Sophie breezed by. “Ross is covering.”

  Not this, he wasn’t. “I should speak directly to Jonathan.”

  Just then, the door next to Jonathan’s office opened and Ross appeared, hanging on to the door jamb. “Cammy—can you find Sophie Callahan and ask her to see me when she gets in?”

  Cammy pointed at her.

  “Wow. You’re good.” He gestured for Sophie to follow him into his office.

  And there sat Adrian Dean. It was only seven-thirty and already he’d said enough to make Ross look as though he’d bitten into a sour apple.

  “Sophie, on Friday, Jonathan inadvertently broadcast a text that was clearly meant to be private.”

  “It wasn’t clear to me.”

  “How could you possibly—”

  “No harm done,” Adrian broke in. “In fact it turned out to be lucky for me, because Sophie helped clarify my thoughts and it’s entirely due to her that I’ve agreed to sign with Peck and Davilla.” He gave her a tentative smile. He didn’t do tentative well. It actually looked more like a grimace.

  “And, uh, we’ll see that you get some time with the team,” Ross mumbled.

  She gazed at him, expression unchanged.

  “I want her on the team,” Adrian clarified, proving he was no fool about some things.

  “Sure, sure.” Ross shifted in his seat. “Adrian told me your ideas. They’re not bad.”

  “They’re very good.”

  He shifted again. “On the surface, but when you’ve had more experience, you’ll understand why they aren’t the best for this client.”

  Sophie didn’t bother to respond to Ross. Looking straight at Adrian, she said, “You let him talk you into the Green Machine, didn’t you?”

  “He felt the other campaign was stale.”

  “Have you signed anything yet?”

  “No.”

  “Good.”

  “Sophie!”

  She ignored Ross. “Go with Mod Media, Adrian. You don’t owe me anything.”

  She heard the breath hiss between Ross’s teeth. “Sophie—Adrian, will you excuse us?”

  “No,” Adrian said.

  It made Sophie smile. “Ross, the whole Green Machine concept doesn’t fit Adrian’s goals for his company. Besides, it’s stupid.”

  Ross dropped all pretense of affability. “You realize that after I talk with Jonathan, you’ll no longer be working here?”

  She realized. “Then who will you steal ideas from?”

  “I never stole your ideas.”

  “True. You stole the credit.”

  “Sophie!” Adrian looked from her to Ross. “Don’t fire her. I’ll only sign if she’ll be working on the campaign.”

  Ross sneered. “Oh, I get it.”

  “No, you don’t.” Sophie took Adrian’s arm and even in the midst of all the drama, she flashed back to the feel of his skin and how she knew exactly the way it felt next to her naked body. “Come on. Ross, will you please tell Aire-An that she’ll need to find a new partner?”

  “Who?” he asked as Sophie led Adrian out of the office.

  Adrian let her lead him to the elevators, but stopped her when she would have pushed the button. “Sophie. Your job.”

  Collateral damage. “It’s time to move on. I think Jonathan was getting ready to put me on Ross’s team and I’d never get credit for anything again. Leaving will be better for my career.”

  Adrian studied her for several moments. Without saying anything, he punched the button. The elevator opened almost immediately and they stood aside as workers boiled out. He and Sophie were the only ones going down.

  “I don’t have your phone number and I couldn’t get a hold of anyone who knew you,” he said as soon as the doors closed. “I ambushed Ross this morning.”

  Sophie watched the floor numbers at the top of the elevator instead of looking at Adrian. “I can’t believe you were going to sign with P&D.”

  “I wasn’t! At least I wasn’t until you got yourself fired. I was counting on you to go off about the Green Campaign and then I’d tell Ross I needed time to think about it and then I’d follow you around until you’d speak to me.”

  She looked at him. “You were just playing Ross?”

  “It’s the only way I could get to you.”

  “Simple and effective. Not bad. Okay.” Sophie crossed her arms. “So here I am. Now what?”

  “Two issues. Two separate issues that are to be considered completely independent of each other. Number one, I do want you working on this campaign. I was going to have Mod Media contact you. I’ve got an appointment with them this afternoon. Since you’re now conveniently available employment-wise, will you come with me?”

  “To Dallas?”

  “Yes.”

  “Okay.”

  “Now, I know what you’re thinking…wait.” He grinned. “You said okay? For real?”

  Sophie nodded. “I’m unemployed. It’s a job lead. But tell me what I’m thinking.”

  “That you don’t need my help getting a job and you don’t want Mod Media to hire you just because I make it a condition. And you really don’t want people to think I made it a condition because we’re sleeping together.”

  “Slept together. Past tense.”

  “That’s the second issue.” Adrian pressed the emergency stop, pushed her against the wall and then kissed her—long and hard and wearing way too many clothes.

  Oh, she remember
ed this. Wanted this. He was in a really good negotiating position right now.

  “I’m mad at myself for suspecting your motives,” he said. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking clearly.” He brushed her hair behind her ear. “You see, I hadn’t been eating well and we asked an awful lot from one steak dinner.”

  Sounded reasonable to Sophie. Most anything he said at this point would. “So how are you thinking now?”

  “Focused and crystal clear. I ate breakfast. Steak and eggs.”

  Just as she laughed, the elevator alarm went off. Adrian ignored it to kiss her again.

  “Hey!” Sophie shoved at his shoulders and reached around him to start the elevator moving again. “Great thinking, but let’s expand it.”

  His hands rested at her waist, keeping her close. “Okay. I want to see where this goes.”

  “You said Dallas.”

  “I mean us.” He gazed down at her, focused on her and only her.

  No sane woman could ignore a look like that from a man like Adrian. Sophie felt a thrill go through her and knew she was toast.

  “What do you think?” He grazed his knuckles against her cheek. “Let me have another chance?”

  “Come back to my place while I pack and you can convince me.” She looped her arms around his neck. “I’m going to need a lot of convincing.”

  The elevator came to a stop and the door opened. Thus, the last time Sophie’s coworkers saw her, she was being convincingly kissed by Adrian.

  And no one was surprised to learn that she’d led the team that created the clever Super Bowl ads for Adrian Dean’s Lean Machine.

  Text Appeal

  1

  EVER SINCE MIA WEISS had come to work at Peck and Davilla three years ago, she’d watched Jonathan Black go through women as if they were disposable coffee cups. Until recently, every woman at P&D had a Jonathan story—except Mia. Oh, sure, he flirted with her in about the same way James Bond flirted with Moneypenny. She worked in the P&D traffic department, which scheduled projects and allocated graphics and production resources, so Jonathan wanted to stay on her good side. But she didn’t take his attention personally because he would have flirted with any woman in her position.