by Brux, Boone
Okay, she was clearly irritated about something. Maybe it was her time of the month. He’d heard women got cranky and unreasonable. Tor took a seat on the other end of the couch. “So Creed, last night you said you had some ideas for the Goddess line?”
“Oh, you remember that,” Nikki muttered.
Tor glanced at her, but she didn’t return his stare.
“Yes,” Creed said, drawing his attention back to the conversation. “Kythera Cosmetics has been a strong force in the industry for decades. The products have distinctive packaging and a loyal following. From the market research done a few months ago, it looks as though the biggest consumer age group is thirty-five- to fifty-year-old women.”
“Kythera caters to career women who are dealing with signs of aging and have the money to invest in their beauty regimen.” Tor crossed his legs, resting his ankle on his knee. “It’s been very successful.”
“Exactly. Since Kythera already controls this target group, I think the best approach for Goddess should be to focus on the younger women who are just coming into their own. They would still get the Kythera guarantee of a great product, but something trendy that speaks more to their lifestyle than their mothers’.”
“A whole new age group.” Tor cupped his chin, rubbing his thumb back and forth across his lower lip. So far the ideas pitched by the marketing team had been nearly indistinguishable from that of Kythera Cosmetics. He had hoped that Creed would be the creative inspiration the campaign needed. Obviously his instincts about him had been right. “I like it. What else do you have in mind?”
Creed smiled. “New packaging. Bright—trendy—but still classy. And I think Goddess should have its own face.”
“What do you mean?” Nikki asked.
“Ms. Stephanos has been the face of Kythera for decades, which is fantastic for the main line, but Goddess needs a younger face our target buyers can identify with.”
“Makes sense.” Tor nodded, really liking the idea of not having his mother’s signature smile anywhere on his project. “Do you have anyone in mind?”
“Actually I do.” Creed sat forward in his chair and folded his fingers together. “Nikki.”
Tor frowned and shook his head. “Nikki who?”
“Nikki Triano.”
He hooked a thumb toward the other end of the couch. “This Nikki?”
“Yes.”
“My assistant?”
“I know it’s an unusual request, but I think she has the perfect look for the line, and let’s face it, she comes from good stock.”
Nikki crossed her legs and began rapidly bouncing her foot up and down. “I don’t think my mother—”
“But she’s not a model.” Tor cut her off. The burn of irritation at Creed’s suggestion and obvious interest in Nikki made the hair on the back of his neck prickle. Nikki’s words registered, and he looked at her. “What does your mother have to do with anything?”
She crossed her arms and leveled her gaze on a spot at the other side of the room, ignoring him. Okay, maybe he had been a little abrupt, but it had nothing to do with the way she looked and everything to with losing his assistant.
“Her mother is Azzura Li Fonti,” Creed said.
The announcement stopped Tor in his tracks. For a few seconds, he was at a loss for words. Crazy thoughts circled through his mind—betrayal—corporate spy. All desire he’d been feeling for her evaporated. He didn’t, no, couldn’t believe that all this time their number one competitor’s daughter had been working right under his nose. “He’s joking, right?” He glared at her. “Please tell me your mother is not the same Azzura Li Fonti who hosts Today’s Model, is the face of Azzura Cosmetics, and is our main rival?”
She shifted, sitting straighter, her arms tightening around her. “No.”
Tor relaxed a bit. “No, she’s not your mother?”
“No, he’s not joking. Yes, Azzura is my mother.”
“I’m sorry, Nikki.” Creed shook his head. “I thought it was common knowledge.”
“It’s fine.” Her smile was genuine. “I wasn’t keeping it a secret.”
“Fine?” Tor twisted in his seat to face her. “How is this fine? You’re the daughter of the enemy. Why didn’t you share that little bit of information on your résumé, or at the very least tell me at some point over the last six years? Do you realize how this looks?”
“Oh, I don’t know, like I’m a corporate spy?” Her gaze was steady, and she didn’t look the least bit guilty.
“I think I deserve an answer. Why didn’t you reveal this in your interview?” The thought of Nikki betraying him and leaking information to Azzura Cosmetics rallied every protective instinct he had for his business. The only thing that kept him from firing her on the spot was her calm demeanor and the sliver of hope that she hadn’t been playing him.
Nikki leveled her question at him. “Would you have hired me?”
“That has nothing to do with it.” He glared, refusing to admit that she wouldn’t have even made it to the interview stage. “I deserved to know that information. Do you realize what’s going to happen when my mother finds out? You do know they hate each other, right?”
He left out the extended version of exactly why their mothers hated each other. It wasn’t just because of the cosmetic companies. All this boiled down to Ares, god of war, and the rivalry between Azzura and Aphrodite for his attention. During one of Aphrodite and Ares’s off-times, he’d engaged in a whirlwind romance with Azzura and she had ended up pregnant with his child. Until this second, Tor hadn’t realized Nikki was that same baby. He prayed his mother would not go into one of her goddess rages and destroy the city when she found out.
“I don’t see what that has to do with me. I’m not my mother.” Nikki’s gaze narrowed. “You should know that better than anybody.”
Her words resonated with him. He knew exactly what it was like to live in your parent’s shadow. People had a difficult time separating the deeds of the parents from the deeds of the child. Gods even more so. Though he hated using his demigod powers, he had to know if she was lying. With a subtle push, he directed a truth compulsion at her. “So you’re not a corporate spy?”
She smirked. “Seriously?”
He inhaled, relieved by her answer. “My mother will go out of her way to make your life hell when she finds out.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I seem doomed to lose my assistant.”
“Obviously Tor, it would take a lot for me to quit this job. I don’t cave easily, nor do I cower in the face of a challenge. I’m tougher than I look.”
From the way she was glaring at him, he had no doubt of that. The children of Ares were natural-born fighters. A thousand questions rushed through his mind. Did Nikki know she was a demigoddess but had been hiding that knowledge from him, too? Another suspicion crept up. What if she didn’t know but she’d come into her demi-goddess powers. That thought sent a shiver through him and he prayed his sensible assistant wasn’t going to go bat shit crazy on him. And how was he going to deal with his mother? She’d have to know about Azzura and Nikki’s connection at some point. His day was getting worse by the second.
“And I’m not trying to steal Nikki,” Creed said, pulling Tor back from his ruminations. “As a matter of fact, the campaign won’t change her daily life much.” He gave them a sly smile. “And as far as your mother’s concerned, might I suggest playing to her vanity?”
This piqued Tor’s interest. Aphrodite certainly had no shortage of conceit. “I’m listening.”
“Skew Nikki’s employment and being Goddess’s new face as a coup against Azzura Cosmetics. By winning Nikki’s loyalty, your mother has usurped Azzura as the female role model in Nikki’s life.”
Nikki harrumphed. “My mother has never been a role model. Quite the opposite.”
For the first time Tor wondered about Nikki’s childhood. He’d never asked, preferring to keep his working relationships just that—business. He tucked his questions away. This was not the rig
ht time to ask.
Tor contemplated Creed’s idea. It might work. His mother’s ego was matched only by her thirst for revenge. Though he wished they could keep Nikki’s association with Azzura quiet, it would be unwise. If Creed knew, then others did, too. They were just lucky his mother hadn’t found out yet. How he’d dodged that bullet, he didn’t know.
Once he explained the situation to Aphrodite, he would probably have no other choice but to let Nikki be the new face of Goddess in order to convince his mother of Nikki’s loyalty. They weren’t just dealing with an over-privileged socialite with tons of money. His mother also had unlimited powers to back up her threats.
“That just might work.” He turned to Nikki. “Are you sure you want to be the new face? You’ll still have your duties here, and no offense—” He paused, wondering how to phrase his next sentence without insulting her. “Being a model’s daughter isn’t the same as being a model.”
She pointed at herself, which drew his eyes to her deliciously displayed cleavage. “You mean because I’m not beautiful enough?”
Okay, so he hadn’t phrased that properly. “No, you’re pretty enough. I just mean you have no experience.”
A hurt look crossed her face at his words, and he wanted to take them back, but before he could say anything she was narrowing her eyes and squaring her shoulders and asking, “What do you think, Creed? Am I ‘pretty enough’?”
Ouch.
The crotch of Tor’s pants began to tighten again. He shifted in the chair and crossed his legs.
“Absolutely! You are fresh, a face nobody has ever seen, the girl next door. And completely gorgeous.” Creed stood and paced behind the chair. “We’re not talking a full-time modeling career, just a photo shoot every now and then and maybe some promotional appearances.” He stopped and braced his palms against the back of the leather chair. “Nikki, your daily life would remain virtually the same.”
“I’m surprised you want me. I’ve always thought the Goddess line’s image was about being sexy.” She shrugged. “That’s not me.”
Yesterday, Tor would have agreed with her, but not this morning. Even the way she breathed was sexy. He folded his hands on his lap to cover his burgeoning erection.
“You have innocence, and a naïveté about you,” Creed said.
She gave an unladylike snort. “Well, you hit the nail on the head with the naive part.”
Though she didn’t look at Tor or address him directly, he couldn’t help but feel that her comment had been a stab at him.
“It’s very sexy.” Creed moved to sit in the chair again. “You don’t see it, and that’s what makes you perfect.”
The way Creed looked at Nikki made Tor feel like a third wheel. A murderous third wheel. “So, you don’t want to be the face of Goddess?” The question blurted out before Tor could stop it.
“I didn’t say that.” The tip of Nikki’s pen scratched back and forth across the paper as if she channeled some illiterate spirit. It was a nervous habit Tor recognized after working with her for so long. “I’m just surprised, that’s all.”
“Fine, if you want to do it—” He let the rest of the sentence hang in the air.
For a second, he hoped she was going to turn down the offer. It wasn’t just the inconvenience he’d suffer when she was on a shoot, but the predatory way Creed smiled at her.
Her pen stopped its random scrawl and hovered over the page. “Fine, I will.” She turned to Creed. “What do we do first?”
Creed’s gaze bounced from Tor to Nikki. “I don’t want to cause any problems between you. I just thought it might be neat to have somebody who knows and believes in the company.”
“Yeah, that’s me.” Nikki turned and gave Tor a look that challenged him to argue. “I’m always there to take one for the team.”
“I said do it if you want to do it,” he grumbled, leaning his elbows against the desk.
Why was he being such a prick? Yesterday he would have jumped at the chance to let Nikki live a little and be in the spotlight. She was a valued employee. But since this morning and waking up with those crazy dreams about her, he’d become possessive and rather irrational. And what was up with this stupid erection. He’d never had a problem controlling his lust—until now.
“I’d like to do a quick screen test with you, Nikki, just to make sure the camera loves you as much as I think it will,” Creed said.
Tor’s stomach did a flip. He’d thought Creed was going to say “loves you as much as I do” for some insane reason. He ran a hand through his hair. He really needed to get a grip.
“Actually, I have some time this afternoon while Tor’s at the tailor’s getting fitted for his tux. Does that work?”
He gave her a smile that made Tor want to strangle him with his puka-shell necklace. “Perfect. How do you feel about a makeover?”
She beamed at him. “I’m yours to mold.”
Tor sat in his desk chair, trying to gain control of the situation and his ire. “I’d like to see the shots when you have them ready.”
“You’ll be the first.” Creed stood and held out his hand. “Thank you for indulging me.”
“I trust your creative genius.” But not his motives. Tor shook the new creative director’s hand twice and released it, not feeling at all excited about the plan. “That’s why I hired you.”
“I hope I don’t disappoint.” He faced Nikki. “See you this afternoon.”
She rose with a bright smile. “I’ll be there about one.”
Creed strode from the room, leaving him and Nikki alone. A strained silence stretched between them. “So, your mother is Azzura Li Fonti.”
“Yep.” She held her binder in front of her like a shield.
“I guess it’s only natural that you’d want to follow in your mother’s footsteps.”
“Trust me, I don’t.” She inhaled and released a breath that sounded weary. “We’re not very close.”
He stared at her for a few seconds, knowing he should apologize—for a lot of things. “I’m sorry I made references to you being a corporate spy.”
She shrugged but didn’t look at him. “Is that all you want to apologize for?”
He had no idea what she was talking about. “Have I done something to make you mad?”
Now she did look at him. Her green eyes searched his face. After a few seconds she said, “No, Tor, everything is fine. Business as usual.” She stood. “Well, I’ll get back to work.” She walked to the door and stopped. “Oh, I forgot to tell you, Demetria Mirrors is in the hospital.”
“Nothing serious, I hope?”
“No.” Nikki cleared her throat. “Just an unfortunate shoe accident. Might have broken her ankle.”
“Good gods.” He shook his head. “I always wondered when that was going to happen.”
She cocked her head and shifted her binder to the other arm. “You don’t sound too concerned.”
“I’m not.” He scooted his chair forward and clicked on the yearly projections document. “She’s too tenacious to stay down long. My bet is that she’ll be back on the job in a day or two.”
“Great.” Nikki turned. “That’s just what I need.”
As she left, his eyes strayed to her firm, round backside. Instantly he was hard again. An uncomfortable wave washed through him. He wouldn’t call her back. No matter how much he wanted to. Damn, what was wrong with him? Inconvenient erections hadn’t plagued him since he was sixteen. Images from his dreams pushed their way forward. Nikki on her knees in front of him, taking him in, and the way she’d invited him onto the bed with her. He reached down and adjusted himself to a more comfortable position. Though it had only been a dream, the way she looked today had him wishing it hadn’t been.
…
Nikki tossed the binder onto her desk and plunked down in her chair. Things with Tor hadn’t gone as she’d planned this morning. Sure, becoming the face of the Goddess line was exciting. But there had been no happy reception from Tor, no barely controlled
desire in his eyes, no freakin’ reference at all to their night of passion.
Though he skillfully seduced her last night, he’d just as skillfully ignored it. She waved her hand absently in the air. “Erections are wasted on that man.”
She thought about what Demetria had asked her. How weird was it that she had guessed they’d been together? Something didn’t sit right. Nikki drummed her fingers against her thigh. Tor wouldn’t have let something about them slip to Demetria—would he? No, he wouldn’t have had the chance.
Plus the whole heel-snapping incident seemed too convenient. But it had to be a coincidence. Jedi mind tricks didn’t exist in the real world—or did they? She thought about her wish not to be seen this morning and how the elevator shot to the first floor, and the taxi driver, and hitting every green light for blocks. That kind of stuff in itself might seem like good luck, but combined, they gave her one giant paranoia attack. She shook off the unease creeping through her and scrolled through her agenda for the day. The best cure for over analysis would be to focus on work.
The minutes dragged by, and with each noise from Tor’s office she tensed, expecting another terse encounter with him. At noon, he finally emerged.
“I’m leaving.” He stopped in front of her desk and stared down at her. “Call me if you need anything.”
“I will, but I think it should be a quiet afternoon.”
The silence grew past the point of comfort. He continued to look at her as if contemplating his next statement. She waited, wanting to hear what he had to say but not wanting to appear eager. After several seconds, he tapped his finger twice on the desk.
“Have a good time this afternoon.” His lips thinned into what looked like a forced smile. “Really, you deserve to have a little fun.”
Thought we did that last night.
“Thank you, I will.” Though above desk level she sat composed, underneath she swung her foot with a nervous beat. “You too.”
He nodded and strode across the lobby to push through the double doors that led to his private elevator, leaving her to wonder if his “have a good time” was an attempt to smooth things over. A dull ache throbbed at the base of her skull.
