Steal My Heart (Bachelors & Bridesmaids)

by Freethy, Barbara

  "I understand."

  "I hope so. Frankly, I wouldn't have invited your firm to participate if it wasn't for your father. We were in Rotary together for years, and I was always impressed with his intelligence and vision. I was sorry to hear he was ill. I hope he's feeling better."

  "He's hanging in there."

  "Well, hopefully your father passed on some of his creative ideas to you."

  "He taught me a lot," she said.

  "Good. But your father isn't making the pitch you are, so you have to believe in this place as much as I do. Then you have to convince me." Charlie leaned back in his chair. "There are three other firms that will also be giving me a bid. You each have something different to offer. Your company is very well known, highly respected and solid. But you're also expensive, so I'm going to take a look at the discount firm represented by Ed Hoffman. Christa Blake's firm specializes in amusement and hotel facilities, but they may not have the connections I want with the press. And finally Michael Stafford is new, hungry and has a celebrated name. You'll have a battle ahead of you."

  "I'm not afraid to fight."

  "Excellent. I've arranged to have you all stay at the hotel next door for the weekend. You'll be provided with a week's worth of passes to the park. I'd like to hear your initial proposal next Thursday."

  It was only a week, but she could make that work. "I'll plan to move into the hotel tomorrow morning."

  "Perfect. Check with the receptionist out front. She'll give you the passes and anything else you need." He stood up. "I'll give you one tip, Miss Palmer. Be creative, be bold and take risks. I don't like to play it safe."

  "I'll keep that in mind." She paused as she got to her feet. "Are there any other surprises I should be looking for on the way out? More quicksand, perhaps?"

  Charlie laughed. "If I told you what they were, they wouldn't be surprises."

  Chapter Two

  Three hours later, Liz walked into her small office at Damien, Falks and Palmer. Her father had founded the company almost forty years ago with his friends Howard Damien and Bill Falks. Since then the firm had grown into a huge business and occupied two floors on the thirty-first and thirty-second floor of one of the tallest skyscrapers in San Francisco. However, while Howard, Bill and numerous other account executives occupied the luxurious floor above hers, she'd been relegated to a windowless office by the bathrooms eight months earlier when her father had decided to retire. His latest bout of chemotherapy had left him too weak to keep working. His partners had made no secret of the fact that with her father gone, they were interested in taking the firm in a new direction—a direction that might not include her.

  But Damien and Falks needed a reason to fire her, and she did not intend to give them one. She had promised her father she would protect his interests in the company he loved so much. And she would have a much easier time of actually keeping that promise if she could bring in the Playworld account. Thankfully, because of his relationship with her dad, Charlie Hayward had been unwilling to deal with anyone at the firm but her, so she had an edge there. But she was going to need more than an edge. She was going to need a win. If she could bring the account to the agency, the partners would not be able to ignore her.

  Her cell phone rang and she smiled as Andrea Blain's name flashed across the screen. Andrea was one of her closest friends and several weeks ago, her normally career-obsessed friend had fallen in love. Tonight they were all getting together to celebrate Andrea's birthday.

  "Hi Andrea, what's up? You're not calling to cancel, are you?"

  "No, just to change the venue," Andrea replied. "I was thinking pizza party at my place."

  "Really? You don't want to do anything more fancy for your birthday?"

  "No. What I really want to do is spend time with my girls, and we never have enough time to talk in a crowded restaurant. Laurel is bringing the pizza, Kate and Julie are bringing wine, and Isabella is going to do a salad."

  "What can I bring?"

  "Veggies or chips and dip…whatever you want. I don't think Maggie will be able to make it. They're shorthanded at the hotel, and Friday nights are tough for her to get away."

  "That's too bad. I'm a little surprised you don't want to spend your birthday with Alex though."

  "He's taking me away tomorrow for the weekend," Andrea said happily. "Knowing Alex, it's going to be spectacular and over the top."

  "I agree. I think you found yourself a good one, Andrea."

  "I know I did. I'll see you at seven, Liz."

  "See you then."

  As Liz ended the call, a knock came at her door, and Bill Falks walked into the room. She got to her feet, preferring to deal with the partners at eye level, not that she even came close to meeting Bill's eyes. He was at least six-foot-four, and since she was barely five-five, he had almost a foot on her. She had no doubt that he loved to use his height as an advantage.

  "Hello, Bill," she said, her tone cool. "What brings you down here?"

  "How did your meeting at Playworld go?"

  "Quite well. I'll be putting the proposal together over the next few days."

  "Howard and I think you might be able to use some help on that."

  "I'm good. I know exactly what Charlie Hayward wants."

  Bill stared back at her. He knew as well as she did that the firm didn't have a chance in hell of getting the account if it weren't for her father's previous relationship with Hayward. "Liz, this doesn't have to be a fight."

  They were talking about more than Playworld; she knew that. She didn't flinch from his hard gaze. "I agree. I just want to do my job and bring the firm a great client."

  "That's what Howard and I want as well. I know you think we've been hard on your father, but he's a stubborn man. He sticks to old ideas that have no bearing in this new technological world."

  "My father is as technologically savvy as you and Howard are," she said. "I don't know why you were so eager to shove him out when he got sick, but he didn't deserve that."

  "We didn't shove him out; he retired. I had no idea you were so angry, Liz."

  "Really? You thought moving me downstairs and isolating me from the other senior account executives would make me happy?"

  "You weren't the only one to be moved."

  No, but the other associates who had been moved had all been at the firm less than a year while she'd been working there for six years, and that didn't count the years in college when she'd been an intern doing every menial task in the company. But she wasn't going to get into all that with Bill; it was pointless.

  "Well, I'm sure we'll be able to move you back upstairs once we finish the remodel," Bill said, clearing his throat. "At any rate, let me know if I can be of assistance on the Playworld pitch."

  "I'll do that."

  As Bill left, she sank down in her chair and blew out a breath. She was twenty-seven years old and Bill had thirty years on her, but she'd held her own. Unfortunately, just holding her own wasn't going to be good enough. She had to get the Playworld account, or her next relocation would probably be out of the building entirely.

  * * *

  Several hours later, Liz knocked on the door of Andrea's apartment with a veggie tray she'd picked up at the market and a bottle of cabernet. She was about fifteen minutes late, and she could hear laughter and conversation within. Just the sound of those female voices made her feel less stressed. These women were so important to her. They'd met their freshman year in college, sharing a common bathroom in the dorm, and since then had become best friends.

  She was expecting Andrea to open the door, but it was Kate Marlowe's sparkling blue eyes that met hers. Kate was a pretty brunette with one of the warmest smiles in the group. A wedding planner, Kate was also the most romantic.

  "Liz," she said happily, giving her a hug. "Glad you could make it."

  "Me, too," she said, following Kate into the room.

  Andrea was on the couch with her twin sister Laurel, a bunch of photographs spread out on the cof
fee table in front of them. While they were twins, Andrea and Laurel were opposite in appearance. Andrea had long blonde hair and Laurel had light brown hair that fell just to her shoulders.

  Across from Andrea and Laurel was Julie Michaels, another attractive brunette. Liz had met Julie in high school and they had been roommates in college. Julie now worked in fundraising for a children's charity, and Liz's firm had actually sponsored one of their recent events, so their professional lives often mixed with their personal lives.

  "Hi Liz," Julie said, her mouth pull of pizza. "Sorry, we didn't wait for you to start eating."

  "Don't worry. I'll catch up."

  "Hey, Liz," Andrea said, getting up from the couch.

  "I figured you might need more wine," she said, holding out the bottle.

  "Always," Andrea said with a laugh. "And you know I love red."

  Liz set the veggies on the coffee table, then followed Andrea into the small kitchen. There were two large pizzas on the counter as well as a big bowl of salad.

  As Andrea opened the bottle of wine, Liz aid, "Sorry I'm late."

  "No worries. Work?"

  "Yes, I had to catch up on a few things before I leave tomorrow."

  "Where exactly are you going?" Andrea asked, pouring Liz a glass of wine.

  "Playworld Amusement Park."

  Andrea raised an eyebrow. "Why? You hate roller coasters. They make you want to throw up. And sometimes you actually do throw up. Remember the Fearsome Flyer ride at the boardwalk?"

  "Don't remind me," she said with a groan. "My company is competing for the Playworld account, and the owner of the park told me that I have to go on every ride and visit every concession stand before I write up my pitch. That includes the monster roller coasters."

  "How are you going to do that, Liz?"

  "I have no idea, but I can't let a roller coaster take me down. I need this account. If I can sign Playworld, I'll be bringing in millions of dollars. I'll be able to call my own shots at the firm."

  "Maybe get an office with a window?"

  She nodded, knowing that Andrea understood office politics better than anyone. "Yes, but that's enough about me. How is Alex and the love story of the century?"

  Andrea smiled. "It is a pretty fantastic love story, I have to say. I never thought that much about falling in love until Alex knocked me off my feet. I certainly wasn't looking for love when I went to interview him two months ago."

  "But that's exactly what you found. It's good to see you happy, Andrea."

  "It feels good. Now, I want all of my friends to fall in love."

  Liz smiled. "Well, unless Alex has six terrific brothers, that may take some time."

  "Unfortunately, he's an only child. Grab some pizza and we'll go join the others. Laurel finally got her wedding albums back from the photographer, and she made up albums for each one of us."

  Liz took a slice of pizza and followed Andrea back to the living room.

  For the next hour, she ate pizza, drank wine and listened to Laurel talk about her first six wonderful weeks as a married woman. It was fun to see both Andrea and Laurel in love, but Liz was in no hurry to join the happily-ever-after crowd, at least not until she got her career under control.

  "Look at this, Liz," Laurel said, holding up a photograph. "Your expression is hilarious."

  Everyone laughed at Liz's shocked look as she caught Laurel's wedding bouquet.

  "I thought you were going to throw it to Andrea," she said defensively.

  Laurel gave a helpless shrug. "I was trying. But I guess I was stronger than I thought."

  "So this means you're the next bride," Kate said.

  "I'm going to have to find a man first," she said dryly.

  "Is there anyone you're interested in?" Julie asked.

  She hesitated as Michael Stafford's image flashed through her mind.

  "There is someone," Kate said, jumping on her pause with a question in her eyes. "Who is it?"

  "It's no one."

  "You were thinking of someone a second ago," Kate said. "So talk."

  "I was thinking of someone, but he's not a love interest."

  "Who are we talking about?" Andrea asked.

  "A guy I went to high school with."

  Julie straightened. "Our high school? Who?"

  "Michael Stafford."

  Julie's eyes widened. "The high school quarterback? The guy that beat you out for student body president and pretty much everything else you ran for?"

  "That's him. I ran into him today at Playworld. He's no longer a pro football player. He apparently runs his own public relations firm, and he's competing against me for the Playworld account."

  "Just like old times," Julie said with a gleam in her eyes. "Michael used to really annoy you. I don't think I ever heard you rant about anyone the way you did about him."

  "He's still annoying."

  "Is he still hot?" Julie asked.

  "He's all right," she muttered, seeing the smiles spread across her friend's faces. "I am not interested in him. He's a rival. I don't want to date him. I want to beat him."

  "You will," Julie said confidently. "He's a football player. He can't be as good as you are, not in the world of PR."

  "I hope not," she said, but she couldn't help thinking that underestimating Michael Stafford had been her downfall before. She would not make that mistake again.

  Chapter Three

  Liz walked through the gates of Playworld just after ten on Saturday morning. She'd already checked into the adjacent hotel and was eager to start her research. It was certainly a nice day for a trip to the amusement park. Despite the fact that it was mid November and Thanksgiving was only a week away, the temperature was already around seventy degrees.

  She stripped off her sweater and tied it loosely around her waist, then paused in front of a large map to get her bearings.

  The park had been built in the shape of a teddy bear, another sign of Charlie's insane desire to replicate every childhood fantasy. Each part of the bear provided a different experience, and she considered her options. She could take a ride on a roller coaster, spend some time under the sea or rocket through outer space. She could visit worlds of nightmares and fantasies without ever closing her eyes, or go back in time to the wild, wild West and the jungles of prehistoric man. Danger and adventure lurked around every corner.

  She sighed, wishing she had the thrill-seeker gene, but she'd never loved the idea of heart-pounding, palm-sweating, stomach-dropping excitement. Maybe she could work her way up to the big rides, start with something easy.

  Turning her back on the screeching cars of the roller coaster, she walked toward the carnival game section. Throwing darts at balloons, she could handle.

  As she walked toward the first booth, the attendant gave her the typical carnival call. "Step right up," he sang out. "Bust the clown's nose and win a prize."

  It wasn't his words that made her stop, but the sight of Michael Stafford preparing to throw a dart at a large clown's nose. The clown face was whirling around on a fast wheel, making the challenge that much more difficult. Dressed in faded jeans and a t-shirt, he looked like the guy from her youth, and her heart unexpectedly skipped a beat.

  Michael tossed his dart and just missed the nose. A large buzzer went off. Michael frowned. "I thought I had that one."

  "Try again," the attendant said. "You might get lucky this time. Only two dollars for five more tries."

  As Michael dug into his pocket for his wallet, his gaze caught on Liz. Too late, she realized she'd lost her chance to slip away.

  "Lizzie," he said cheerfully, waving her over. "Have you tried this one yet?"

  "I just got here."

  "Then it's your turn. My treat."

  "I can pay my own way."

  "Relax, it's two bucks," he said, handing the money to the attendant. "And I took it out of the cash Charlie left for us."

  She nodded. "All right then." While most of the rides in the park were included in the entrance
fee, the games here were set up like a true carnival, cash games with stuffed animals as prizes.

  Michael handed her the five darts. "Here you go. I have to tell you it's harder than it looks."

  "I'm surprised you would say that. You're a quarterback. You should know how to throw something at a target."

  "You'd think," he said dryly.

  She looked back at the spinning wheel, took aim and launched her first dart. It missed the clown's face entirely, way too short of a throw.

  "At least I hit the target," he said mockingly.

  "I'm getting warmed up."

  She tried again. Her next three shots struck various parts of the face and head but came nowhere near the nose. She was down to her last dart, and she had the really strong feeling that beating Michael at this simple game would set the tone for the rest of the week. She picked up her dart and tried to time the spinning wheel.

  "You might have to accept that you're not good at everything," Michael said.

  She frowned. "You're trying to distract me."

  "Just preparing you for disappointment."

  "I don't plan on being disappointed."

  "You always were overconfident."

  "That was you, not me." She focused her gaze back on the clown, drew her arm back and threw towards the target. She was almost as shocked as Michael was when the clown's nose burst and bells rang.

  "A winner. We have a winner here," the attendant shouted, drawing the attention of a group of nearby tourists. "Step right up. Everybody wins."

  "I don't believe it," Michael said in unhappy surprise. "You got lucky."

  "If that's what you want to think. Which prize would you like? The pink panda or the yellow bunny?"

  "Very funny."

  "I think I'll take the pink panda. It will go with your red face."

  "Try again, lady, you can win the lion," the attendant advised.

  "I'll stick with the panda." She tried to hand it to Michael, but he crossed his arms in front of his chest.

  "No, thanks. You won it; it's yours," he said.

  "Are you sure? I'm happy to share because…well, because I won."