"Camden is the business end, the sales guy. He built FanFollow — one of the biggest collegiate travel agencies in the country — while he was at USC. He sold it to PriceMatch a couple of years ago for an undisclosed amount. He understands the benefit of a buyout and the idea of building the next big thing." A sly smile appeared. "Camden's done a fantastic job of promoting LazerShark and establishing partnership agreements with a lot of different gaming companies. Celebrity athlete fantasy leagues have taken LazerShark to a whole new level. Their advertising revenue last year was upward of five million."
Mia jotted a couple of notes on her phone. "I think LazerShark has a lot of potential to expand. These guys have an extremely profitable venture on their hands. They just need our guidance to put their ideas in front of the right people. I've worked out a strategy to highlight areas of their model that we need to pitch to new investors, but we need to act fast. The competition will quickly catch up."
"That's exactly what I want to hear. I have complete faith in your abilities, which is why you're in charge of this relationship."
Sharp pains shot up her calves. Unfortunately, the compliment didn't eliminate the stinging sensation caused by her five-inch heels.
The car pulled up to the wharf a short while later. Mia winced as she stepped onto the pavement, wishing for a longer recovery. A couple of martinis might relieve the scorching agony induced by her too-tight stilettos.
"I have to make a quick call. I'll meet you on the boat in a few." Paul walked away from the car, speaking in hushed tones.
She hurried onto the boat, in search of the dining room. A small smile tugged at her lips. Paul was such a complex guy — ultra-cocky, condescending, shrewd, and always armed with an ulterior motive. There was a hidden agenda for this meeting, but Paul wasn't the type to share. It was just one more thing she'd recently learned. A loud ringtone interrupted her reverie. "Where the hell are you, Paul?" she muttered, poking a finger into her free ear to mute the din from the cocktail lounge.
"Mia Bradshaw."
"Hey, Mom! Where are you?"
Mia's face relaxed into a smile. Chloe had that effect. "Hi, baby. I'm headed to a meeting. How was your day?"
"Great! I just got home from basketball. We had an awesome practice."
"That's terrific. I can't wait to see your new moves."
Chloe giggled. "You're gonna love them."
"Did you eat dinner yet?" Mia scanned the people milling around the crowded bar, immediately spotting Chris. At 6'4" he was hard to miss. An involuntary gasp escaped her lips. Three young blondes surrounded him, each more stunning than the other. Was it really so surprising? Adonis was a certifiable charmer with more lines than a supermarket before a snowstorm.
"Yes, we just finished. Grandpa and I are going to play cards now. Oh, and guess what? Lizzie invited me over for a playdate. She wants me to meet her dog, Jake. Can we get a dog?"
Tearing her eyes away from Chris was no easy feat. Let him have fun with his harem. Stupid girls. They really should play a little harder to get. "Um, no, Chloe. It's too much for me right now. Dogs are a lot of work, sweetie."
"I know. I was just hoping…"
A dog. That's all she'd ever asked for — a furry friend to play with, to cuddle with, and to love. It was bad enough she was growing up without a dad. Lamenting about being the overworked parent who didn't have time to take care of another living thing suddenly seemed selfish. But who was she kidding? A dog would propel her straight toward the brink of insanity. The shedding, barking, and bathing… argh! No way, not in this lifetime.
"I'm sorry, love. I just can't handle a dog right now." Chloe's defeated sigh made her cringe. "But maybe there's something else you'd like just as much. Think about it, and we'll talk in the morning."
"Thanks, Mom!"
A quick look at her watch confirmed the boat was about to set sail. Shit. There was still no sign of Paul. "I love you so much. Be good for Grandma and Grandpa."
"I will. Do you want to talk to Grandma?"
Hell, no. She didn't need to deal with another one of her mother's famous guilt trips right then. "Um, tell her I'll call back later. I need to get to my meeting."
"Okay. Have fun."
"You too, baby. Sweet dreams."
Mia tossed the phone into her Chanel bag. The bleached-blond brigade was still hanging on Chris's every word, completely enamored and vying for his attention.
Much as she wanted to admire the view from her vantage point, an empty barstool shouted her name. Perfect timing. Now for the vodka…
It was still a bit early, and under no circumstances did she want to crash Chris's party. Any impure thoughts needed to be fully eradicated. Tonight was the official beginning of their working relationship, and no matter what kind of fantasies she may have harbored, it all ended here. Mia Bradshaw always played it safe. It was easier to control situations if they weren't fraught with risk.
The bartender caught her eye and walked over with an appraising glance. "What can I get for you?"
"The lady looks like she's had a rough day. Maybe a martini?"
Mia's head snapped in the direction of the intruding voice, but not before she noticed the bartender's crestfallen look. She returned the smile of her newest business partner, feeling her skin tingle deliciously under his gaze. "A martini was exactly what I had in mind."
"I could tell you needed something stronger than a Gatorade. Did that boss of yours rake you over the coals today?"
"No, but speaking of coals, my feet are burning as if I've been running over them for hours."
"So that's why you practically steamrolled everyone in your path to grab this barstool."
"Basically. I'm not really a fan of this type of self-torture, but it's a necessary evil in my line of work."
"Other types of torture are preferable?" Chris raised his glass with a playful wink.
Mia clinked her glass with his. Oh sweet Jesus, she was as bad as those dippy blondes. His suggestive gaze stirred every last nerve ending. "Of course, the more painful the better. By the way, how's your nose?"
"Good as new. It wasn't one of my finer moments." He held up a Victoria's Secret bag. "Here's your new sweatshirt."
"Thanks, but you really didn't have to—"
"Yes, I did. It's the least I could do. I hope you like it."
Mia nodded toward the girls at the end of the bar. "I think your fan club is disappointed you ended the party so early. If looks could kill, I'd be six feet under by now, in a very wet grave."
"Oh, those are our new intern candidates. We were just having an informal interview before you barreled into the bar. They probably think you're the competition."
"Do you share cocktails with all your prospective employees? Or just the pretty ones?"
"I'm not sure I like that implication. It makes me sound seedy."
Another gulp of the martini left her feeling bolder, and the clear liquid burned a determined path to her stomach. She never could control her tongue when vodka was involved, but he didn't look too bothered. Amused? Definitely. Offended? Hardly. Maybe that was because her observation was completely on target. "No need to get defensive. It was an honest question. If we're going to work together, I need to get a feel for how you operate."
The corners of his mouth curled into a mischievous smile. "And vice versa."
All control was lost. The fluttering sensation in the pit of her belly erupted again… and she hadn't even drained the glass. Something about Chris broke through her well-constructed barriers. Seductive charm oozed from his pores. Any more alcohol, and she just might evaporate under his hazel-eyed stare.
"You never told me where you learned that ridiculous layup."
Good, she needed a diversion to clear her head. Basketball would work. Yes, basketball… and the way his biceps rippled every time he shot a basket. "I don't recall you asking, but then again, you were a little distracted the other day."
"Touché. Okay, humor me. What was it like to play in t
he NCAA tourney?"
"It was pretty incredible — tons of work, a lot of trash talk, damaged ankles and knees. Just a regular boatload of glory." She grinned. "You played in college, right?"
"Yeah, for USC. Never made it to the Big Dance, though."
"So you were a Trojan." How apropos was that?
"Not for too long. I got two concussions pretty close together in my second year. It was bad news. The doctors said there was a possibility of big-time brain trauma if it happened a third time. I took myself out of the game after that. No pun intended."
"Really. Wow." She gulped the rest of the martini. "What did you do?"
That sexy smile was back to taunt her. "I became an entrepreneur. I needed a way to pay the tuition when I lost my scholarship. I didn't want to be a burden on my dad. He said he'd help, but I always felt school was my responsibility."
"It was just you and your dad?"
"I grew up with him and my older sister. My mom died of breast cancer a year after I was born." He raised his hand to summon the bartender. "Can we get another round?"
"That's terrible. I'm so sorry…" God, how would it feel to deal with that kind of loss, the loss her daughter faced every day? To grow up without knowing the love of a parent?
"It's okay. I don't remember her, but everyone says she was an amazing woman. My dad says I'm a lot like her." He picked up the fresh beer and took a long sip, his eyes clouding over. "It was hard for both of us growing up without a mom. But my sister's older, so she remembered more. The loss hit her really hard. She pretty much raised me. My dad worked a lot of long hours, and she was always around to help. We're really close."
Mia shifted on the stool. Maybe there was more to this guy than met the eye. He actually had depth. Shocking… she never saw it coming. "It's great you have such a tight relationship with her. I hope you're okay talking about it."
"Don't worry. It's fine. So where were we? Oh yeah, my brilliant plan to pay exorbitant tuition bills."
"FanFollow," Mia supplied. "Very impressive."
"I was in the right place at the right time."
"That's the story you're sticking with?"
"If I do, then it makes me look humble and unpretentious, right?"
"Is that who you really are?"
"Is that something you want to find out?"
Her breath caught. She was held captive by the challenge reflected in his deep-set eyes. Even though she knew he was anything but the adjectives he'd rattled off, she didn't care. The vodka was contributing to her wicked thoughts, which were only amplified by the spicy scent of his cologne. If he moved the slightest bit—
"Hey! Where's the rest of the party?"
Startled, Mia recoiled. The stool swung around unexpectedly and her foot got caught on the rung. She grabbed the bar to steady herself, her head cloudy with alcohol-tinged lust.
"Whoa!" A handsome young man grinned as he steadied the back of her stool. "You must be Mia."
She let out an embarrassed giggle. "I am. You must be James."
"Yep. It's great to meet you. Thanks for setting this up." James slapped Chris on the shoulder. "It looks like I showed up right in time to rescue you. I hope you're not ready to run for the hills just yet."
"I have a pretty high threshold for ego. I work for Paul, remember?"
Chris laughed. "I thought we'd just established how self-effacing I am."
"I don't recall confirming that."
"I think I can get you to see things my way. We have all night." The tone was light enough not to generate a reaction from James, but the suggestion dared her to react.
"Speaking of the devil… is Paul joining us? I thought this was supposed to be a celebration with the team." James grinned at Mia and waved the bartender over again. "But I guess technically, we are the team, right?"
Mia hesitated before taking a sip of the chilled martini in front of her. They were really hitting the spot, but her limit was fast approaching. It would be hard to talk strategy when her mouth refused to form words. Mmm, and there were so many other things she'd like to do with her mouth right then.
Her iPhone vibrated, and she pulled it from her handbag. Alison.
"Hi, what's going on? Are you and Dan joining us? The boat's about to leave."
"Paul was called away so he's not going to make it for the kickoff. He wants you to handle things with James and Chris. I already took care of the bill and the car service for you guys, so enjoy."
It was just like Paul to change plans at the last minute. She knew being called away was really code for he can't be bothered.
"Okay, thanks for letting me know. Have a great weekend, and I'll see you on Monday." She clicked off the phone and flashed a sheepish grin at James and Chris. "It looks like Paul can't join us after all. He was called away on some urgent business. I'm really sorry for the change in plans."
Chris snorted. "Typical. He's always got an agenda. There's a reason he hung back. Hot date?"
"I'm not privy to his social calendar. At least he paid the bill."
"We'll definitely take advantage of his generosity." Chris downed the rest of his beer.
"This is a good thing. We'll get a chance to bond. Maybe that was his end game." James turned back to Mia. "You just joined Blue Coat, right?"
"Yes, about a month ago. It's a great firm. I'm glad to be on board."
"What did you do before? Did you work for another venture fund?"
"No, I was a portfolio manager for Cadence Wealth Management. I handled accounts for a lot of high-net-worth athletes."
"That sounds really cool. You've got a finance background?"
"Yes-s, I was there for a few years-s after I got my MBA." Dammit, did she just slur?
"Ahh, it all makes sense now." Chris nudged James. "Do you know what this means?"
"Paul is very impressed with LazerShark, and one of the reasons he recruited me was because of my network. When he'd told me about your strategy with the athlete endorsements, I knew it was a winner. I told him I'd only take the job if I got to handle the relationship with your company." She squirmed slightly under Chris's heated gaze. "I have a lot of ideas. We have so many areas of expansion available to us, but it's important to plan out the right development strategy. Potential investors want to see steady and manageable growth. If you go off-course, they'll assume you don't have a well-thought-out business plan, and that perception can destroy opportunities." Whew. Strange as it seemed, the martinis enhanced her pitch. Ha, the power of alcohol.
"Those are really great points." James glanced at his ringing phone. "Will you guys excuse me? I need to take this."
Chris met Mia's curious gaze and mouthed, "Girlfriend."
One of the hostesses walked over with eyes focused on Chris for a little longer than necessary. Mia didn't miss the unspoken yet blatant invitation, but Chris seemed not to notice… or care. "Excuse me, Miss Bradshaw? Your table is ready."
Mia flashed a winning smile, choking back the expletives she longed to hurl at the hostess. "Thanks." She turned to Chris, feeling a delightful chill as his eyes drank in the length of her body. When they settled back on hers, she dropped her voice to a playful whisper. "It looks like you may have another intern candidate to interview before the night is over."
The warmth of his breath felt like feathers fluttering against her cheek. "I don't know, I think I've reached my quota for the evening. Maybe I'd like to refocus my attention on something… or someone… else. What do you think about that?"
Her pulse raced at the suggestion. So many conflicting thoughts raced through her mind, but she'd never give him the satisfaction of knowing. Those blondes may have laid their cards on the table, but she had too much to lose. "I think you're barking up the wrong tree."
They reached the table, and Chris pulled out her chair, a devilish smile plastered on his face. Her body tensed at his nearness. "That's kind of presumptuous. I just meant we should get to know one another professionally."
Breathe. Just play it cool.
"My mistake," she cooed. "Why don't we enjoy the benefits of Paul's expense account? Champagne? It is, after all, a celebration."
"HOW DID YOU GUYS hook up with Paul?" Mia crunched on a rosemary-infused breadstick as their dinner plates were cleared. She'd need about fifty more to soak up all the booze. Three martinis and two glasses of Tattinger were well beyond her normal threshold, and her head was growing foggier by the minute. At least they'd moved beyond the shoptalk.
"Chris hunted him down." James reclined in his chair. "How many meetings did you have with the first team of analysts?"
"About four," Chris responded with a roll of his eyes. "Every time they emailed me a new laundry list of documents to produce, I knew Emerson was behind it. But I delivered, and it paid off. Blue Coat was the perfect fit for us."
"I didn't have as much faith as Chris did. But I'm glad he held out for Blue Coat. Emerson may have a lot of unscrupulous qualities, but he knows his shit. Sometimes you need to take the good with the shady."
"He's certainly an interesting guy," Mia mused. "He operates well outside the norm, but his success speaks for itself. Before I took the job, I researched everything on him. The general consensus? He's a ruthless bastard, but his insight and business acumen make huge sums of money for himself and his investors. Do you know what the average return is for the Blue Coat fund? Thirty percent. That's an insane number. And at the end of the day, if he's making money, that's all that really matters."
James laughed. "We can definitely attest to the ruthless bastard assessment."
Mia's gaze traveled from James to Chris. His lips curled into a sexy smile. Oh Lord. How could James be so oblivious? She quickly averted her eyes and tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "Oh yeah? Personal experience or grapevine?"
James downed his champagne and exchanged a look with Chris. "I don't know, maybe we shouldn't be blasting him behind his back. What if he's got plants in here? What if it's a setup? Just forget it."
"Uh-uh, we're bonding, remember? Tell me what you've heard, or I'll make you document every last inch of your business-s processes-s by Monday." Oh Christ, she'd done it again.
"Lady drives a hard bargain." Chris laughed, and goosebumps popped up along her arms in response. "You do realize we have a staff that handles busy work for us, right?"
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