Thankful for a moment to collect myself, I sink into the chair and pull a notepad from my bag. The murmurs of various people chatting fill the air. They can’t compete with the loud thoughts consuming me.
I assumed the client was an old, rich guy, not the handsome, thirty-something protector who kissed and comforted me on Friday night. How can this be happening?
My mind is reeling with the revelations about Stu—excuse me, now it’sStuart. My eyes involuntarily dart to his face. He’s staring directly at me with a knowing look on his face. What does he think he knows? Is it that I’m embarrassed? Does he know I want him to keep our prior meeting a secret? Or does he know what he does to me? What is it?
Tearing my gaze away, I focus on creating a list of questions for Jason. Not that I need to ask him anything. I’ll just never make it through this meeting unless I concentrate on something other than Stuart. And it’s not like Mr. Barclay told me anything about this charity project. It’s reasonable for me to want to know more, so I scrawl question after question on my yellow legal pad as if I’m working on a multi-million-dollar acquisition.
No way will I look Stuart’s way again. Well, at least not yet.
I’ve almost filled a page with my partially relevant questions when Jason returns. His booming voice declares, “Let’s start. I’d like to start with a short overview of the project to bring Brooke up to speed. Does that work for everyone?”
He wasn’t really asking for permission, so he moves right into the explanation. “A few years ago, the Earl of Sandridge started the Sandridge Foundation, which is often referred to simply as the Foundation. His primary goal was to preventcontamination of streams and rivers in the UK. Soon, he learned that this was a worldwide problem and that, surprisingly, agriculture contributes to the problem. To widen awareness, the Foundation funded a movie to expose the issue and raise money to remedy the problem. The movie is premiering here in LA in conjunction with a set of weeklong events to raise money and visibility.
“Brooke, as you know, your law firm represents the Earl’s foundation as the entertainment lawyers for the movie. And your firm also decided to sponsor the charity events related to the premiere.”
“Thank you for the summary. As you probably know, I’m a last-minute replacement. It would be helpful if you could provide me with a list of the events that I should plan to attend. Would that be possible?”
“Of course. The events this week include a fundraising lunch, our team meeting, a talk show interview, the premiere, and the masquerade ball. My assistant is preparing an information packet with more details for you. Stuart will let you know which events he’d like you to attend.”
“Excellent. I wasn’t aware that agriculture contributed to water pollution. I’ll want to learn more before the events. Can your assistant include materials on that as well?”
“For now, please trust me that it’s a significant global concern. I’ll let Stuart explain the details over lunch. You can also use that time to coordinate your schedules. My assistant can make a reservation for you at a nearby French restaurant, if you’d like. Now, let’s move on to other logistical issues for the upcoming events.”
My world is spinning. I’m having lunch with Stuart—just the two of us. I don’t want to be alone with him again. Our attraction is too strong. He’s a client. I can’t let anything happen—at least not anything more than has already happened.
Stuart and I need to talk. Hopefully, he’ll agree that what happened between us will stay between us. After all, it was just a kiss—a hot, sultry, mind-blowing kiss—but still, just a kiss.
Besides, it was his fault that I ended up drunk. I’ve never had whiskey before. I didn’t know it would knock me on my ass so quickly. Yes, we need to talk. And the more I think about it, I have questions for him.
Why didn’t he tell me who he was? Didn’t he know I work at his dad’s law firm? He saw me get on the elevator at the law firm’s floor. I told him I’m a lawyer. Of course, there are two other boutique firms in the building where I could work. It’s possible he wasn’t paying attention to the floor the elevator stopped at for me to enter.
Given the way he’s looking at me now, why didn’t he ask for my number before I left on Saturday morning? If he had been interested, he would have. Not that I would’ve given it to him in my embarrassed state. He still should have asked to make me feel less ... less ... oh, I don’t know. My logic is messed up this morning.
Why would he want to spend more time with someone who went from panicked to drunk to passed out in record time? Hell, I ruined his Friday night, leaving him to babysit a comatose woman in his hotel room. How could I possibly think he’d ask for my number? He was probably relieved I left without further incident.
I’m sure the way he’s looking at me now is just amusement and concern about being stuck with me for the rest of the week. He’s probably already calculating how to replace me with a more appropriate attorney from our law firm.
That’s likely for the best. We can discuss the options over lunch. All I need from him is reassurance that he won’t mention the details of our prior meeting to anyone on the PR team or anyone at my firm. Surely, he can do that for me.
Lunch will be okay. At least that’s what I’m telling myself.
8
STUART
As we shake hands, her now familiar citrus scent conjures pleasant memories. She’s perfectly put together in a lovely dark navy suit jacket and trousers with a lavender silk blouse. And every strand of her striking auburn hair is in place. She’s the epitome of the professional woman who happens to also be breathtakingly beautiful.
While I offer her a genuine smile, I’m careful not to give away that we’ve already met. Something tells me she’d rather not have to explain our time together in the lift. The good news is my mystery woman has been found.
Suddenly realizing I’ve held her hand a bit too long, I reluctantly release it, clearing my throat. But, as I let my gaze linger, a faint blush tinges her cheeks as she sits across from me. Clearly, I’m not the only one affected by our unspoken connection, which makes me smile.
“Everyone, let’s begin,” Jason says, starting the meeting.
It’s hard to concentrate on business when I can’t take my eyes off Brooke. Her long auburn waves frame her soft, alluring face. A light touch of makeup highlights her eyes, and the shiny, cherry-red lipstick reminds me just how kissable her lips are. I can’t wait to taste them again. Hopefully, she feels the sameattraction to me. Now, I just need an excuse to talk with her privately so we can arrange a date.
My thoughts are interrupted when I hear Jason mention they’ve set up a private meeting for Brooke and me immediately following this team meeting. It’s as if he read my mind. That will be the perfect opportunity for us to chat and plan next steps. I’ll ask her out for dinner.
I turn to see if she’s as pleased as I am. A warm blush is spreading over her cheeks. That’s a good sign if it means she’s remembering the chemistry that bubbled between us on Friday evening.
