by Alyssa Kress
~~~
This did not bode well.
Erica had made an appointment to see Brennan. An appointment—through the clerk who'd been the one answering the store phone yesterday afternoon.
Standing by the window of his office and staring out at the bustling street, Brennan wondered why Erica thought she had to hide behind such formality to talk to him. Had he led her to believe it was unsafe to do so under any other circumstances?
All he knew for sure was that she was due to arrive in five minutes, and he was a nervous wreck. He'd run his hands through his hair so many times that he could only hope so much combing had resulted in more taming than disrupting. His stomach was in knots. He hoped there weren't bags under his eyes from losing so much sleep last night.
The knock on his door made him jump. Damn. She was here. Three minutes early! Okay, true, he'd been waiting roughly twenty-four hours to find out what she wanted. To find out if she was ever going to respond to what he'd said to her in the driveway two days ago.
Taking in a deep breath and smoothing his tie, Brennan went over to his office door—something he normally kept ajar. Play it cool. Cards close to the vest. He opened the door.
Erica stood in the hallway outside, dressed in a tailored skirt suit, a different one from the outfit she'd worn to the guardianship hearing. Her hair was recently cut, her makeup light but effective.
She looked like a million bucks. It wasn't even the clothes or grooming, it was— Brennan couldn't put his finger on it. She looked different, though. Strong. Happy?
Oh, God. Had she moved past him? In his mind, he was hearing Lois's apartment door slamming in his face.
No. Brennan straightened. He wasn't going there, not going to assume the worst.
He did his best to smile. "Hello, Erica. Come on in."
With her own smile, she accepted his invitation and walked into his spare, second-floor office. Her natural energy was at maximum. She practically shimmered with it.
"Have a seat." Brennan surreptitiously cleared his throat while going behind his desk. Hey, she'd made an appointment. So he was playing this like a business meeting.
He wasn't being a coward to hide behind his desk.
"Now." He gave her what he hoped was at least an approximation of his usual business demeanor. "What can I do for you?"
Erica sat on the edge of the utilitarian chair on the other side of Brennan's desk. Her smile turned nervous. "Ah, but I'm here to tell you what I hope to do for you."
An incredibly stupid hope flared in Brennan's chest before he realized Erica had produced a leather portfolio—she must have been carrying it—and was setting it on his desk.
"I have a business proposition for you," she announced.
A business proposition? His earlier hope withered into disappointed char. She wasn't going to discuss what he'd said to her in the driveway, about trying a relationship?
His critical monster self was not surprised.
Driving down his disappointment, Brennan took another deep breath. Whatever she wanted, Erica was obviously excited. For her sake, he would play along. So he gave her a smile. "That sounds interesting. Let's hear it."
Her own smile brightened at his assent. The only sign she was still nervous were her hands trembling as she unzipped the portfolio. "I don't know if this idea will satisfy Judge Devon, and frankly, I don't care. Liam and I have come to an agreement regarding the court's decision about his guardianship and the estate."
Brennan raised his brows. This was news. He decided it was good news from the determination in her tone. "I'm glad."
She paused, shooting him the first personal-type glance yet. "Thank you."
Brennan's heart picked up a little speed from the intensity of her glance.
But she returned immediately to an all-business manner. "What I'm concerned about now is the long term." Opening the portfolio, she displayed the first page of what appeared to be a business plan, sheathed in glossy plastic. "I want to talk to you about profit—mutual profit."
"Keep going." He was getting more intrigued by the second, both by her presentation and by this new, confident side of her. He was finding the latter a definite turn-on.
"Diehard Sports is already a profitable venture, but I've noticed your biggest challenge is leading the customer from observation to purchase. Carmichael Physical Training can assist you in achieving this transformation in the following way."
Brennan listened while Erica went through her portfolio, explaining how she would run a training exhibition and tip-giving session right on his store floor. She'd invite walk-ins for exercise sessions and give advice on the best equipment for their needs.
It was actually a fantastic idea. The advantages for Erica and her business were obvious, but she wouldn't be the sole beneficiary. Brennan could easily imagine the way her exhibitions might translate into increased sales for Diehard.
There was only one problem. While she was enthusiastically delivering her pitch, he was getting increasingly hot for her. The better her ideas and the more excited she was by them, the more excited he was getting for her.
After smoothing a hand over the last page of her plan, Erica leaned back in her chair and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. "So." She sounded a little breathless. "What do you think?" She delicately cleared her throat. "I mean honestly."
Brennan watched her while he tapped a thumb on the desktop. "I think it's a fantastic idea." He had the pleasure of seeing her face light up. "I agree wholeheartedly about the potential benefit to Diehard. The only alteration I'd like to see is that you would trade between our two locations, with at least one exhibition per week in each store. I'd like to spread the benefit of your presence and the enthusiasm you'll generate."
She nodded, obviously containing her joy with difficulty.
But he had to admit, "There's only one problem."
A shadow crossed the sun of her euphoria.
He stood up, unable to sit still any longer. "I foresee possible legal ramifications."
"Really?" Her head turned to watch him pace past her toward the window, her brow furrowed as she tried to puzzle this out. "What legal ramifications?"
He forced himself to look from the view out the window toward her. With great difficulty, he shoved aside his fear. In his mind, he placed front and center the positive image he wanted to create. "One thing is, I'd want to make sure there's no clause in the contract we'll write that regards fraternization."
Regarding him, she blinked several times.
Brennan drew in a breath. "Because I plan to do everything in my power to get your attention and convince you to go out with me."
She stared at him, completely still, not saying a word.
Stupid. Idiot. These were words Brennan wanted to call himself, but he restrained the impulse. Not yet. He waited.
Slowly, she smiled.
His heart started beating again.
"Is that right?" Erica asked.
"You better believe it."
She stood now, too. Facing him, she crossed her arms over her chest. "That might not be as easy a task as you think."
"Did I say I thought it would be easy?" Oh, he hoped it wouldn't be. Her challenge got him even more fired up than he'd already felt.
Still smiling, she tilted her head. "I consider myself quite a prize."
"As well you should."
Her smile broadened. "I figured out a lot of stuff recently. About my dad. About how my childhood formed my self-image. I understand now why your marriage proposal really flamed me. It had involved no emotion, and I'd wanted you to care."
Hope leaped like a gazelle in his chest. Had she wanted that? Good. "I look forward to proving to you that I do." Thinking about starting right then, he moved toward her.
"That should prove interesting...eventually." There was a smirk in Erica's smile.
Brennan halted in his forward progress. An amused quirk twitched his mouth. "You're not going to let me kiss you, are you?"
&n
bsp; She shook her head.
"Okay, let's say I ask you out to dinner tonight, and you agree. Maybe on your porch after I take you home...?"
She laughed, clearly delighted. "You'll have to go through the exercise and find out."
He loved that laugh. Optimism and hope were like balloons inside of him. It was a feeling he hadn't had in a very long time. "Then it's a date."
