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“Nice job, Ethan,” Kyle said, as his assistant and manager began to put their folders in their briefcases and pull out of their chairs. “I was worried for a moment.”
So was I. Ethan flashed what he hoped was a calm, confident smile of a man who did no wrong. Or rather, a man who had done wrongs but learned from his mistakes. “No need to worry, Mr. Kyle. We had a couple of hiccups, but the complex is on track for opening in a couple of months. We’re all very excited.”
“Good. We’ll keep in touch, then.”
“Sure thing.”
Kyle and he shared a firm handshake, then Kyle left, followed by his entourage. Only then he exhaled. Shit.
He looked over his shoulder to Laurel, who typed on her thin laptop. “Did you send the kids home with Drake?” he asked. He trusted his loyal driver to take them home safely and wait with them until his boss arrived, but he wouldn’t count on Drake to babysit them.
“No, they’re still with Ms. Poppy downstairs. They refused to come with me, and by the way, she also wanted to hand them back to you herself. I came back, but told security on the floor not to let her exit the building.”
He ran his fingers down his face, frustration squeezing his gut. Of course. The redhead who had staged a coffee spill, invaded his office and then—
God. She still had them. He dashed out of the conference room, and hopped into the elevator. When it pinged, he strode to the cafeteria, and recognized the long red hair from several feet away.
Poppy was… attractive, he admitted to himself. Not his usual type, but these days he wasn’t sure he had one. Dating was the least of his worries. Besides his work and children, he had time for little else anyway. As he shortened the gap between he and the table where Poppy and his kids sat, he studied the scene.
Poppy said something, and Archie laughed. His gaze darted to his daughter, usually untrusting of strangers, but even a ghost of a smile formed on her face, and she bit her lip like she was trying not to laugh.
How eager to pitch her idea for him was this Poppy woman?
The closer he got to them, the slower he stepped on the carpeted floor. He would take a ghost of a smile from his daughter at anytime, especially when he’d been the reason for none lately. He couldn’t blame her, still, he couldn’t stop. He needed to keep going, to finish paying his debt and get a good safety net for his kids.
“Daddy!” Archie said, when he saw him, and ran to give him a hug like he hadn’t seen him in years. Bless that boy, he held no grudges. “Miss Poppy was telling us some jokes.”
Poppy looked at him, a flicker of hope in her pretty eyes. A weird sensation swept over him, a mix of awareness with the kind of warmth he shouldn’t feel toward a woman he just met. He gave himself a mental slap, and hugged his son back, then pulled a chair next to them, with Archie still on his lap, excited.
“Thank you for watching them,” he said to her.
“Can she come over again?” Archie asked.
“Honey…” she said, then shrugged, glancing at him, waiting for him to say something.
An idea struck him with the intensity of a grand piano falling down the pavement. What if he listened to her, and leveraged whatever she wanted from him in exchange for a full-time nanny until he opened the entertainment complex?
The bonus money from a job well done that Kyle had promised would be a good cushion for him to start his consulting firm. He’d be able to move on from Kyle Entertainment, choose his own hours and work less. More money, less worry. “Kids, why don’t you go buy something in the gift shop?” he said, taking a couple of bills from his wallet and handing them to Willow as usual, fully aware that was the best way to keep them together. “I need to talk to Miss Poppy for a few minutes.”
The kids scurried to the shop, and he watched them go in and meet the salesperson, who waved at him as if to say she’d watch them while in there. God, his life had become such a mess that everyone knew about it.
Including the sexy woman across from him. He pulled a chair and sat facing her. She had to know, after spending over an hour with his kids. Willow might be tight lipped, but Archie talked like there was no tomorrow.
“What do you want from me?” he asked.
She sat the fruit salad she’d been eating aside, and leaned closer. Once again, her eyes sparkled, but now, with a touch of victory in the green depths. “I’m an up-and-coming podcaster. I’m confident that my audience will be a great match for your entertainment clientele. I was thinking I could have a small booth in your space, soundproof of course, and podcast from there and talk about what’s happening weekly. This would draw more people to your restaurants, movies, events.”
“Why can’t you podcast from a studio or your home?”
“The idea is to make it more fun, and the advertising more organic and less sellsy. Like I could have a segment in which I’d interview regular people in the complex, and make it more engaging.”
He scratched his chin. If he fell for it, he’d have to chat with the architect and figure out where such a booth would be. If there even was space available without compromising the overall vibe of the place. It’d have to be soundproof as well, which would increase costs. Not to mention Roy, the head of marketing, wouldn’t like him to butt in his area. He’d have to strategically bypass Roy’s approval. But a question nagged at him. Why would she willing to do this? “What’s in it for you?”
“I’ll grow my audience overnight and get more exposure. Plus, of course, ad money. It’s a win-win.”
“How many subscribers do you have right now?”
