Seducing Sarah - Book 4: The Player - Kris

by Ami LeCoeur

  The tall, distinguished man standing beside him was another thing altogether. My breath literally caught in my throat at the first glimpse of his tall, broad-shouldered figure in one of the most gorgeous suits I’d ever seen. The cloth was rich and sleek, and I found myself wanting to run my fingers over it to feel the satiny fabric. Beneath the black suit jacket, he wore a shirt that was such a pale, pale blue it almost seemed white. Somehow that blue set off his eyes, which nearly leaped out at me from across the room.

  Rather than waiting for Will to introduce us, Grant took the lead. “You must be Ms. Pilsner,” he said, striding toward me like a cat, hand extended to shake. His magnetic presence was truly larger than life, filling the room, and at that moment, it totally tangled my ability to speak. But I managed to nod, confirming that yes, I was Sarah Pilsner. This man was overwhelming, electricity emanating from his pores. The firm, sturdy grip of his handshake was a sure sign that this was a man who got what he wanted, through force of personality if nothing else.

  I felt his eyes moving over my body, almost like a caress. But frankly, I was assessing him in the same way. Then he smiled, and the smile was so charming, it was almost blinding. I instinctively smiled back. He held my hand all the while he stared into my eyes, and some small part of my brain finally realized his thumb was massaging the back of my hand ever so slightly.

  “Ms. Pilsner, I can’t tell you how happy I am to meet you.” His voice was like velvet wrapped honey. I should have pulled away, maintained some air of professionalism. But I couldn’t look away from his smile. Some part of my mind remembered those old vampire movies, where the fiercely hypnotic Dracula held a woman in his thrall.

  “Why don’t we get started?” Will asked, allowing me to take a deep breath, stepping back slightly. I was grateful he’d broken the spell, giving me back my sense of self again. The last thing this man needed was to think I was a pushover for a smile and a strong grip. I withdrew my hand, trying to ignore the way it faintly tingled after his clasp.

  Will sat at the head of the table, in the place I normally controlled. In this instance, I expected nothing less since he was technically the one running the meeting, the one mediating the “meet and greet” as he called it. I sat on his left, while Grant took a seat across the table, facing me.

  Those eyes. I couldn’t stop looking at them, out of sheer curiosity if nothing else. Blue so pale they were almost luminescent.

  Will cleared his throat and dove right in. “Now that we’re all here, I think we should begin by finding a common—”

  Grant Lancaster held up one carefully manicured hand, smiling that hypnotic smile of his. “Not to be disrespectful, Mr. Walters, but I don’t think we need to be so formal.” He turned his devastating smile toward me again. “I’m sure you agree, Ms. Pilsner?”

  How was this guy so smooth? He was nothing like the other men I’d worked with before and certainly nothing like the men on my staff. I glanced over at some of my male staff walking past the room’s glass walls. All in all, we were a fairly casual office, so most of the men, and even some of the women. wore jeans with button-downs, loafers, pullovers. There was a world of difference between them and this polished, professional man sitting across from me, with his tie and pocket square matching his shirt perfectly.

  “I sincerely wanted to meet you, Ms. Pilsner, to let you know how interested I am in both your style and your company.”

  “Please, call me Sarah,” I offered. “And thank you, Mr. Lancaster. I appreciate your interest.”

  “I’ll call you Sarah if you call me Grant. It’s impossible for me not to be interested, considering the great work you’re doing. How could anyone not be impressed with the success you’ve earned for your clients? And the way you’ve grown so quickly. Of course you have, since quality is what people care about.”

  “Thank you.” My response seemed to come up short in light of his gushing assessment, but I really didn’t know what else to say. It wasn’t that I didn’t believe him, just that he seemed to be laying it on a little thick. It might have been nerves on his part, or his desire to get me to take his offer seriously.

  “I run a very large, very successful organization. The resources at my disposal could be of great benefit to you. Partnering with my organization could enable you to expand your reach beyond your wildest dreams. You deserve the chance to do that, since you’re obviously the real deal. I would love to come to an agreement that allowed me to invest in your company, or better yet, to work on a merger which would give you additional resources and still allow you to run the company under the banner of my name.”

  What he was offering seemed generous, but I wasn’t a fan of that last idea, and I told him so. “I appreciate your attention and kind words, more than I can say. It’s always nice to be noticed.” I smiled at Will, then at Grant. “However, I’m not interested in merging. With anyone. I thought I should get that out here right away, out of respect for your time, if that’s what you’re set on doing.”

  “I appreciate your concern,” he said, still smiling. He obviously didn’t ruffle easily.

  “But tell me, how do you know about my campaigns? I mean, how do you know which ones were specifically mine?”

  He chuckled good-naturedly, looking down at his hands on the table, and then back up at me. “When you’ve been in this business as long as I have, there’s little in town you don’t know about. I have ways of finding information and answers when I need to. Your approach is so creative and fresh, I couldn’t help but notice.” He looked down at the table again, briefly. “May I ask how many people you have on your staff, seeing that you’re able to pull off such great work?”

  “We’re relatively small, only around two dozen full-time employees, though they’re extremely loyal and work their tails off. Many of them have been with me since the beginning. We also have a handful of freelancers we work with on a regular basis. I consider them part of the team too.”

  He nodded. “Impressive that you manage to turn out such high-quality work, considering the size of your staff. I have to say, everything I’ve heard so far—and, of course, meeting you in person—supports my belief that I’m right in making this offer. I hope you’ll take me up on it.” With that, he pulled a thick packet from his briefcase and slid it to me across the table. I glanced down at the packet, and then pushed it in Will’s direction without hesitation.

  “I trust my attorney to review these things for me,” I said. “I wouldn’t know where to start. Once he and I have the opportunity to discuss your offer, I’ll get back to you on whether this will work for me. But you should understand that I’m not interested in making a large change in my business at this time. As much as I appreciate your offer, I think you should know my intentions in advance.”

  Grant squinted his eyes, watching me intently. I wondered if he was secretly boiling, or just thinking over my statement as he weighed his options. I couldn’t tell which.

  “Fair enough. You’re a savvy businesswoman. I know you’ll make the right decision… for both of us.” Then he stood, shaking Will’s hand before coming around to my side of the table to take mine. For the briefest moment, as he bent over it, I thought he might pull it to his lips to kiss.

  Instead, he clasped his other hand over the back of mine. “I can’t tell you what a pleasure it’s been to spend this time getting to know you. Regardless of your decision, I hope we become friends. You’re someone I’ll be paying attention to, that’s for certain.” With that, he was gone, his black hair with its gentle touch of gray disappearing through the front door.

  My breath expelled from my lungs in one long whoosh. I shook my head, looking over at my attorney. I felt like I’d been hit by a tornado.

  “Did that just happen?” I asked. “And is it just me, or is that guy a little too much over the top?”

  Chapter Six

  By Friday night, I was no longer thinking about Grant or his proposal. Thank goodness, Will was reviewing it for me. The only thing on my
mind was the fundraiser for Emma’s Women For Shelter. Mainly, of course, because Emma wouldn’t let me think about anything else. She’d been emailing me all day to remind me of the time, the place, the dress code. Almost as if she was afraid I wouldn’t show.

  “This is great,” she whispered, taking me by the arm and pulling me close as I entered the opulent hotel ballroom. “You’re going to love meeting the rest of the Board. You’ll make such a wonderful addition. I’ve been floating on air all week, I swear.”

  “Down, girl,” I chuckled, sipping a glass of champagne. “I’m glad to be here too. But I’m not a hero—I haven’t even committed yet. Don’t get the wrong idea about me, please.”

  “Oh, come on. You’re fabulous. Why do you think I was so intent on getting you in my corner with this? You’re perfect for it.” Somebody called her name, and she excused herself. I wasn’t sorry she had things to take care of. At least I could hear myself think again without her voice chattering on in my ear. I liked her very much, but her constant state of high-energy could be more than a little draining.

  I smoothed one hand down the front of my cocktail dress, a black lace sheath, and decided to strike up a conversation with a middle-aged couple Emma had just introduced me to. They were both very committed to the charity and donated both money and time on a regular basis.

  “We hold seminars for the women, career-oriented lectures, that sort of thing,” they told me.

  I’d considered doing something similar, or at least finding a way to add to what was already in place, so we fell into an easy conversation, discussing where our efforts might be best utilized.

  Emma tapped me on the shoulder a few minutes later. “I don’t mean to interrupt, but I wanted to introduce you to Al Compton. He’s pretty new to the organization too.”

  “Nice to meet you, Sarah. They recently brought me in to help with legal issues,” Al explained quietly. He was polite, handsome, debonair, reminding me of a young Idris Elba, with his warm cocoa-colored skin and short trimmed black hair. He was taller than me, too, which was saying something considering the obnoxiously high heels Tammy had insisted I wear. I was impressed with this tall, dark man immediately.

  “It’s nice to meet you, too, Al.” I smiled, taking his outstretched hand. “So, you’re the legal guy. What kinds of issues do you have to face here?”

  “You’d be surprised.” He laughed. “There are always legal issues. Contracts, agreements, court orders. And that’s just part of the job. There’s so much to be done here. And lots to keep me busy. On a personal level, I refuse to sit back and let these women lose their children or worse.”

  Something shifted inside me as I considered the full array of services the program offered. “I never thought about that. No wonder they need you here.”

  Emma laughed. “Don’t let him fool you. We appreciate what he’s doing, but that’s not the primary reason we brought him on board. In fact, he doesn’t even get paid for offering some of those services. He provides them pro bono, refusing to let us pay him for that work.”

  “Really?” I looked at him with even more appreciation. He shrugged as Emma walked away to talk with a couple who had just come in the door.

  I had to ask about the pro bono services he’d decided were necessary for the women. He seemed slightly reticent about discussing any of it but finally opened up, telling me about the importance of helping women get custody of their children, obtain a divorce and the other legal snarls that could come from untangling from a bad situation.

  “I guess that’s where Emma first heard of me,” he said. “I was doing basically the same thing for the local legal aid office. I think it’s important to help women who don’t have the benefit of financial resources. They shouldn’t have to lose their children or their dignity just because they’ve finally found the courage to leave the wrong relationship.”

  “I can agree one hundred percent with that.” I smiled. This quiet, nice man seemed earnest and sincere, rare qualities to find in a man, considering my recent track record, and I warmed up to him immediately.

  Our conversation was interrupted by the approach of a familiar figure. “I thought I recognized you, Sarah.” I turned to find Grant Lancaster standing beside me, looking as polished as I remembered from our initial meeting in my office. He shook hands with Al, then turned back to me. “I didn’t know you were a part of all this.”

  “I’m not. At least not formally, yet,” I said. “I was only invited to the Board a short time ago, but it’s something I’m very interested in. I think this kind of work is a necessity, frankly, and I’d love to help in any way I can.”

  Al smiled, adjusting his glasses before speaking. “I think you would fit in nicely.”

  “Thank you,” I said, smiling back at him. I couldn’t help but feel sorry that Grant had shown up suddenly. I’d been looking forward to learning more about Al’s programs within the organization—and Al himself, of course. I suddenly felt uncomfortable as the thought dawned that Grant and his overpowering personality expected me to drop everything, simply because he was there. I turned to him, doing my best to maintain my sense of balance in his presence.

  “So, what brings you here?” I asked, curious, but with a small edge of irritation.

  He laughed. “Didn’t I tell you before? Nothing happens in this town without my knowing something about it.”

  “But why here?” I pressed. “This doesn’t seem like the sort of event you would frequent.”

  “Well, Sarah, that’s where you’re wrong. But it’s understandable. I have a business relationship with the Shelter.”

  “Oh. Business.” He seemed content to stop there, and I didn’t press him. I still wasn’t sure if this bigger-than-life man was for real, or what his angle was. He was too polished and professional to simply have a stray interest. As he opened his mouth to continue, Emma appeared out of nowhere and dragged me away.

  “You’ve got to meet this woman,” she gushed, leading me through the crowd. I was a little surprised but greatly relieved that she’d rescued me from Grant, whose bigger than life presence was making me feel more cautious all the time. Of course, I didn’t see any point in arguing with Emma, she was like a force of nature. But before she could introduce me to whoever it was she had in mind, the caterer rushed over with some emergency that needed her attention.

  Emma turned to me.

  “Darn. I gotta take care of this, be right back.” She was a walking, talking storm system. I wondered if she ever stopped running. While I waited for her, I wandered over to check out the silent auction. Glancing down at the papers on the table, I was gratified to see it looked like the organization would pull in a nice sum of money for the evening. Add that to the cost of admission, and this would end up a nice, successful little fundraiser.

  On the walls around the room where the various auction items were located hung several delightful paintings. I couldn’t help but admire them, my designer’s eye immediately drawn to the artist’s use of color. It was obvious they were all the work of the same person—there was a consistency of style that flowed through each piece.

  I wandered around the room, going from painting to painting, admiring the workmanship and spontaneity of each one. As I turned from one wall to the next, absorbed in my browsing, I nearly bumped into a pretty young woman standing there.

  “Oh, I’m sorry.” I laughed, steadying myself. “I couldn’t pry my eyes away from the walls enough to see where I was going.”

  “You like them?” the girl asked in a quiet, shy voice, barely above a whisper.

  “Very much. Do you know the artist?”

  She quickly dropping her gaze to her hands clasped in front of her like a young schoolgirl. “They’re mine.”

  I smiled, taking her in for the first time. She seemed to shrink a little under my gaze. Everything about this young woman—from her quiet, self-effacing demeanor and slightly hunched shoulders, to the way she had difficulty maintaining eye contact for very long—screame
d out her need for a boost in self-confidence. She was a pretty girl, rosy-cheeked with long, poker straight brown hair and big hazel eyes.

  “You have a lot of talent,” I told her. “You’ve captured the scenes beautifully. Like in this one.” I led her to one I particularly liked. “I feel as though I’m actually on the beach. I mean that. And this next one reminds me of a garden my grandmother used to tend at her farmhouse. You’ve managed to capture the feel of each place, instead of just creating a photograph or simply putting color onto the canvas. That’s a rare quality.”

  “Wow, you know a lot about these things,” she said.

  “I ought to. I own an advertising agency. I know talent when I see it.”

  She blushed to the roots of her hair, the poor thing.

  “Hi, I’m Sarah,” I said, wanting to put her at ease.

  “Annie,” she replied shyly.

  Over her shoulder, I noticed Grant walking toward us. I instantly turned my focus back to Annie, hoping he was there to look at the auction items and I could avoid him for a little while longer.

  “If you have a portfolio, I would love to see it. Here’s my card.” I handed it to her, and she took it with wide eyes. Before she got the chance to reply, Grant reached us.

  “Hey, now, are you trying to steal my new intern?”

  “Is that what you think I was doing?” I joked. “Just admiring the talent.”

  He laughed as though I’d said the funniest thing in the world. “Once a year, my company hires an intern from among the women at the Shelter. And this year it’s Annie.”

  So that helped explain why I sensed Annie’s lack of self-esteem. She was one of the Shelter’s cases. My heart went out to her, and I was sincerely glad she’d gotten the chance to develop her talent as she moved on with her life.