by Ava Claire
I saw the fight in her eyes flicker, her breathing dialing down a notch. I gave her an uneasy smile and a nod before I turned to Missy. “We’re here to help, right?”
Now Missy was the one that looked like she was ready to step in a ring, ready to go a round or two with me. “You’ll have to forgive Miss Montgomery. She hasn’t been with the company for very long.”
Don't do it, Missy. I’d just given her an out. Mia was calming down and we could move forward.
“I meant exactly what I said,” Missy continued, going dark just as I feared she would. “I’m not gonna tiptoe around anything. You are going to do, say, and go where we tell you or you’re going to fail.”
The gasp of horror that hissed from Mia’s mouth made me feel more than a little sorry for her and I scrambled to fix things. “Miss Kent...Mia...”
But she was already up, kicking the chair out of the way, throwing a grown up tantrum that had everyone gaping at her.
Bad, meet Worse.
“I’m not gonna sit here and let you talk to me like that. Do you know who I am?” Spit flew from her mouth like rain. “DO YOU?!”
“Today I do,” Missy said, crossing her arms nonchalantly. “Without us, in five years you’ll be that girl that was on that show. Another child starlet that hit eighteen and lost their damn mind.”
Mia stormed from the room, leaving silence in her wake. I knew Missy was opinionated. It was her M.O. But that ‘get in line or get out’ attitude wasn’t one size fits all. Mia came in combative, gearing for a fight. The last thing she needed was to have someone give it to her.
Missy pushed her chair away from the table. “She’ll be back.”
I guess that was her way of concluding the meeting because everyone else followed suit, pushing back and filing from the room. I hung back, waiting until it was just she and I.
“Can I have a minute, Missy?”
She didn’t say yes, but she turned to face me, clearly still unpleased that I dared to interrupt her during the meeting. As much as I wanted to tell her that I was trying to fix her fallout, do her a favor, I tried to alleviate the tension instead.
“I just wanted to say that I spoke up because I felt that the dialogue was headed down a negative path,” I explained. “She deals with negative day in and day out, people trying to be armchair psychiatrists when no one knows what’s behind this except for Mia.”
“And I don’t care what’s behind it,” Missy said curtly. “I’m not here to be her friend or her confidante. I’m her publicist.”
“I get that, but why can’t we be understanding of her specific needs and--”
“I’m sorry, aren’t you a secretary? What value is your opinion in this matter?”
She may as well have spit in my face because the sting of her words sliced just as deep as hocking a loogie would have. I guess our second ceasefire lasted a few hours longer than the first but was it progress if I was back to hating her guts?
Missy left the room, probably off to brag about how she’d just schooled both me and Mia. My hands were shaking, my eyes filling with what I refused to admit were tears. I left the conference room with my eye on the bathroom down the hall. I would make myself decent before I had to walk through Missy’s territory.
I pushed open the door and went to the sink, putting my trembling hands beneath the water, rubbing them together, trying to calm down. I thought I heard something, someone so I stood up taller, steeling myself for one of Missy’s cronies to come out, ready to report back that she’d successfully gotten under my skin. But the door swung open and it was Mia.
Mascara making dark streaks down her face. Mia, falling apart.
I took a step in her direction, wanting to say or do something to let her know that everything would be okay.
She threw venom that stopped me in my tracks. “What the hell are you looking at?”
She stomped past me without another word, yanking open the door and leaving me wondering why I even tried.
But I couldn't shrug it off. She needed help, and not of the 'or else' variety.
****
Natasha was watching me pace back and forth in the lounge area with this little smirk on her glossed lips that told me Missy had already talked to her about the meeting.
Missy's harsh words...Mia's face...
I'd spent the past hour wondering if I should do the very thing Natasha's smirk dared me to do. Play the Jacob card.
Under normal circumstances I would never. Ever since it was made public that I dated Jacob, I knew that my co-workers minced the few words they spared for me, worried any comments might make their way back to him. There was a part of me, the piece that kept walking the strip between the sofa and table, that thought I would be tattling. That if it were under different circumstances where I didn't have a close relationship with the boss, I would handle this situation differently. I'd take my grievance to the source and we'd settle it as professionals. But I'd tried talking to Missy, politely suggesting that maybe we try a position that was a little less boot camp and her response had been to keep my mouth shut. I was a secretary, and her word was law.
But I'd seen the fallout from her heavy handed intervention with my own eyes. Mia’s face wasn't that of someone that was close to realizing the error of their ways. She was a girl on the verge of collapse and Missy's words were just the shove to knock her over the edge.
So yeah, I was considering playing dirty, but I could worry about Missy's ego or I could worry about the client.
I stopped pacing.
You knew what you were gonna do as soon as you saw Mia's face.
I put one foot in front of the other, not backing down from Natasha's death stare. "Is Jacob in?"
She ran a hand through her white blond hair. "He is. Is he expecting--"
I didn't wait for whatever obtuse or hidden threat she could work into her next statement, starting down the corridor. I knew she was on my heels, talking about how I needed an appointment and how I still owed him professionalism even if we had a personal relationship.
I almost laughed. Professionalism? Like she was some stellar example of it, all but saying ‘nanananana’ in a sing song voice for the past fifteen minutes. But not even the desire to give her a piece of my mind could outshine the purpose of my unscheduled meeting with Jacob.
I swore he was in the exact same spot he'd been in when I left before the meeting. I opened my mouth but Natasha had already muscled her way to the front.
"Mr. Whitmore, I informed Miss Montgomery that you were very busy, but she insisted."
I had to bite back amusement at the fact that her volume went from loud and sure to barely audible by the time she got to ‘insisted’. Probably because his eyes left his paperwork as soon as she said my name.
He didn't even have to say a word before she turned around and left, closing the door with a click.
"How was the meeting?"
It was pretty obvious he knew it was a train wreck. If the little awkward exchange between Natasha and I wasn't a dead giveaway, the stress filled expression on my face and the single arched brow on his, was.
"We started off with a bang. The client was thirty minutes late."
The arch dropped immediately. "This is about Missy."
The fact that he knew she was in the center spoke volumes, but I nodded slowly to confirm it.
"I get that she's rough around the edges and gets the job done." It was probably the reason she survived the purge after Jacob took over. Even then, he must have seen an invaluable asset to Whitmore and Creighton. Every successful company had a Missy behind the scenes; someone willing to get their hands dirty and cut through the bull.
"But?" Jacob said, waiting for the next bit.
"I think she may have gone too far today."
He steepled his hands beneath his chin. "What happened?"
"She pretty much told Mia Kent she'd become a porn star if she didn't do exactly what she said."
"A...porn star?" Jacob repeated slowly
. He dropped his hands to his desk. "Surely she was speaking metaphorically. Followed it with a laugh or joke of some sort?"
I could tell from Jacob's reaction that he was trying to make sense of it and the more he worked over the situation, the angrier he became.
His voice took on the low, dangerous tone that always had everyone scurrying for cover. "You can't be serious. She couldn't have been serious!"
I'd already crossed the biggest hurdle. I worried he'd appreciate her tough as nails approach and tell me the client needed a dose of reality. He'd done the opposite...but he was still glaring at me like he wanted to shoot the messenger.
He rose from his chair, buttoning his jacket with a precise, controlled movement. But his eyes betrayed him. Jacob was about to chew Missy out.
I took a tiny step back, but knew I needed to explain the real reason I came here. Even though I was aware that Missy would throw me under the bus if our roles were reversed, I didn't come so he could string her up.
"Nine times out of ten, her angle would have worked. But Mia is not some jaded celebutante that needs a stern talking to." I moved back to where I stood, finding my groove. "She's eighteen. She's just a kid. And she's terrified. Scared straight isn't the right way to handle her--she needs understanding. We need to remind her that she is wasting her potential and headed down a dark path, sure...but not by berating her."
I waited for him to respond, not sure if he saw so much red that my words didn't register or was contemplating what I said.
He played his cards close to the chest, his eyes, his face unreadable now. I had no idea which way the wind would take him. Would he march downstairs and give her the same talking to she gave Mia? Would he take my words to heart and ask for my suggestions? It was all guesswork. I held my breath and crossed my fingers for door number two.
"I take it Miss Kent was far from receptive?"
"Oh I think the message was received loud and clear." I bit my lip, remembering Mia's face. "I'm just trying to ensure that the right message is sent if she decides to use our services."
I was banking on her desire to prove Missy wrong, but the fact was it was anyone's game. I wouldn't be surprised if she never walked through Whitmore and Creighton's revolving door ever again. In the event that she did, a new strategy needed to be implemented.
Jacob walked to the front of the desk. There was still ten, fifteen feet between us, but I felt as breathless as if he was up close.
"What are you suggesting we do to fix this situation?"
I was so relieved that I couldn't help but let out a sigh that rippled through the silence. There were no guarantees, but all I wanted was an opportunity to be heard. Nothing more, nothing less.
"She fired her manager recently, right? She's untethered and has no clue what she's doing. She's in no position to manage herself. So first, we need to find her someone that will hold her accountable. Keep her on the straight and narrow. Chew her out if necessary. Be the bad guy."
I stopped, wondering if he had something to add, but he was just listening intently.
I swallowed and continued. "We need to focus our energy on getting her back to the fun, girl next door that the world fell in love with in Carolina, California. Right now she just looks like a child acting out for attention. The story people see when they see her should be that she’s still young, but she’s not naive. She’s in control of herself. Of her destiny. Not an edgy young woman who maybe dipped too far onto the dark side. She’s small town. She’s relatable. The fame overwhelmed her, but she’s learning from her mistakes. She’s grown up. She belongs here.”
I stopped. Finished. I’d finally put out the vision I’d been honing since we first took her on as a client. The vision I tried to share but was pretty much laughed out of the room. It was straight from my mouth to someone who could actually do something about it.
“Did you share this with Missy?”
“I tried,” I said honestly. “She thinks the best way to proceed is to stay the course. Strip Mia down to nothing and build her back up.”
“And what do you think?”
“I think that’s a mistake. I think that instead of helping her, we’re just bringing her fears and demons to the surface.” When he turned his back to me, moving back to his desk, panic gripped my throat. “I’m not trying to start trouble. I just don’t agree with our current course of action.”
He picked up his phone, punching the speaker button before a series of numbers. I just about died when I heard Missy’s voice answer.
“This is Missy.”
“Hello, this is Jacob.”
The line went quiet, her voice going from the ‘what is it’ edge to something infinitely more accommodating. “Mr. Whitmore! What can I do for you?”
“There’s going to be a slight change with the Kent case.” Jacob’s eyes settled on me. “Leila Montgomery is your second. I’ve just heard some great ideas from her end and I like the direction she’s taking.” His eyes fell to the phone, narrowing to slits of blue like he was putting the fear of God into her face to face instead of over the phone. “I want her opinions to be valued and heard. I trust you both to ensure our client’s needs are met. That’s all.”
He ended the connection, leaving me and surely Missy, equally flabbergasted.
“I’m her second?” I walked around the desk, needing to be up close. Needing to hear it again.
“That’s right.” He gave me a look. “And don’t start on the promotion kick. You want to earn your place at the table, this is how that gets done. Show them you’re exactly where you belong.”
I didn’t know what to say, so I threw my arms around his neck, squeezing tight. “Thank you for this opportunity, Jacob.”
“Thank you for coming to me,” he answered. “I know you’re worried about nepotism, but this has nothing to do with the fact that I’m crazy about you. I disagree with Missy’s approach and I know you’ve been working hard on this case. I think together, you two can really do good work. As long as you’re on your best behavior,” he added with a wink.
“Me?” I said, pinching his arm playfully. “You should talk to Missy. She wasn’t even talking about me and I almost cried.”
“Well, it’s settled then. Wherever she goes, you go. You give it to her straight. If you think she’s being too much, say so. I’m just so happy you’ve come to me, finally proving that you trust me.” He brushed a wayward curl behind my ear. “Didn’t think I’d see you as some power hungry overachiever.”
That alone meant as much as being Missy’s second. I knew what everyone thought of me. That I slept my way into my position. That I didn’t have anything of any real value to contribute. And I knew Missy wouldn’t hesitate to say that I begged for a new position, but I didn’t even care about all that right now.
He looked down at me, his tongue darting over his bottom lip. “You know how sexy it was watching you march in here, expressing yourself? Going to bat for someone, damn the fallout?”
I smiled as I reached down, gripping the curve of his arousal. “I think I have an idea.”
Lust heated his gaze before he nodded at the door.
I walked briskly to it, engaging the lock. “Can we--?”
He peeled off his jacket, rolling up his sleeves. “We can...and we will.”
****
My back was against his chest. I could feel him breathe me, his heart racing even though his voice was calm. Sultry.
"You have no idea how sexy it was to see you take charge. Speak out for your client."
I drew an unsteady breath as I felt his fingers unbuttoning the front of my blouse. There was no urgency in his movements. Always the picture of calm, the Dom in charge. I couldn't say the same for myself. I'd passed calm when I saw that look in his eyes--that look of carnal need. That special spark where I knew we were throwing the employee handbook and decorum out the window. This wasn't an office, with rules and regulations. This was our space. A room made up of all the ways he could have me. Up against the
wall. Pressed against the floor to ceiling windows. On the chaise. On the floor.
All of the above.
I looked down, not believing there was still several buttons to go. I was dying for him to just rip it from my body. Send the buttons flying and push me back onto the desk. I didn't even care that I'd have to hold it together with a prayer after we were done. I didn't care about anything except his body and my body, colliding until we were both too spent to notice that we weren't the only two people on the planet.
His eyes blazed downward, stopping at my feet. "And you in those shoes--"
I let out a hot, nervous giggle at that, remembering the associate telling me they said 'take me now' but the crystal accents tacked on a throaty 'please'. I hadn't been sure about them...me and heels just didn't mix.
And then I put them on.
I didn't really believe in the whole item of clothing or even a pair of shoes having the ability to change your life, but when I stood in front of that mirror, something clicked. The way they made my legs go on forever, the way they hugged and accentuated; these shoes were foreplay. And even though I'd cursed having to wear something so dressy since I couldn’t find my more conservative pair this morning, I knew it was serendipity.
I felt like the most desirable woman alive.
My shirt hung open in the front, goose bumps spreading across my fevered flesh when he pressed his palm against my abdomen.
"You're so beautiful, Leila," he murmured. "The most beautiful thing I've ever seen."
"It's for you," I whispered softly, trembling slightly when he swept my hair to one side, dark curls spilling over one shoulder. I turned around slowly, facing him full-on. I saw myself reflected in his crystal eyes. My wild, unruly hair, the curves of me, my sun kissed skin. I saw what he'd been seeing all along. What he wanted for the rest of his days.
