Page 13 of One Midnight Kiss

Her eyes flicked to mine, narrowing just a fraction. She was quiet for a moment, and I could see the wheels turning in her head. “Yes,” she admitted, her tone begrudging. “It’s a brilliant idea. However, many brilliant ideas don’t make anyone happy. Like prostate exams. We’re told it’s good for us and can save us, but are you really jumping at the chance to get one?”

I wasn’t expecting that. I braced myself for another cutting remark, another list of what we’d done wrong, but instead, there was a glimmer of something like approval in her eyes. Even if it was followed by something rather crude. Still, there was a look there I didn’t like—like she was sizing me up, looking down at me from a pedestal she’d built for herself. It made me want to knock her down a peg.

“So maybe we should be marketing this to single, career-driven women,” I said, a smirk playing at the edge of my lips. “Women like you, who don’t have the time to worry about things like thermostat settings or energy efficiency.”

Her glare could’ve melted steel. “If you think reducing your target audience to ‘single career women’ is the solution, then you clearly haven’t been paying attention,” she snapped. But there was a twinkle in her eyes—a flash of challenge that made heat course through my veins. She was playing the game right back, and damn if I didn’t love it.

Jerrod, on the other hand, looked horrified. He glanced back and forth between us like a spectator at a tennis match. “Uh, Ms. Dawkins, do you have any initial ideas about how we might salvage our public image? We’re on a tight timeline here. We need a campaign ready to launch as soon as possible.”

“Better than a prostate exam?” I quipped.

Natalia leaned back in her chair, tapping a manicured finger against her lips. I couldn’t help but watch, fascinated by the way her mind worked. She almost smiled at my comment.

Almost.

“You need to pivot,” she said decisively. “Right now, you’re marketing this as a necessity—something people have to have. But that’s not the way to go. You need to make Hanna desirable, something to aspire to. Something the cool kids have. The cool people have it, so they want it too. Start with high-end clients first—the luxury home builders and their buyers. Turn it into a status symbol, something people want because it’s what the Joneses have. Once you’ve established it in the upper echelon, then you can trickle it down to the mass market.”

I shook my head, leaning forward. “I didn’t create Hanna to be unattainable,” I said. “If it were up to me, I’d give it away for free. The goal is to make smart technology accessible to everyone, not just the elite.”

Her expression softened for a moment, the sharp edges of her demeanor fading just slightly. It was subtle but I saw it. And I wondered, just for a second, if she wasn’t as stuck up as she seemed. Was there more beneath the surface than what she was letting on?

“That’s a noble goal,” she said, almost gently. “But if you want to get there, you need to start somewhere. And right now, the luxury market is your best bet.”

I watched her, feeling something twist in my gut that I couldn’t quite identify. She was making sense, and I hated that I hadn’t thought of it first. Hated that she was right. But more than that, I hated the way she made me feel—like I was staring into the eyes of someone I’d met before, someone I’d lost and forgotten.

Natalia looked at her assistant. “I’ll get back to you next week with a plan.”

I blinked, surprised by the sudden end of the meeting. We didn’t even talk about what we wanted or our budget.

“Penelope, let’s go,” she said.

I watched her walk out, the click of her heels fading into the hallway.

Jerrod and I stayed seated like we were both too stunned to move. He let out a long breath, slumping back in his chair like he’d just survived a natural disaster.

“What the hell was that?” I asked.

“For a second there, I thought you two were going to start throwing punches,” Jerrod said.

I shrugged, not taking my eyes off the door she’d just walked through. “She’s got a mouth on her,” I said, almost smiling. “Which is good. We don’t have time for a timid approach.”

“Yeah,” Jerrod muttered, rubbing his temples. “And you just had to push her buttons.”

“Did you see the way she looked at me?” I asked more to myself than to Jerrod. “Like she’s seen me before.”

Jerrod gave me a blank look. “Maybe she’s seen your picture online. You’re not exactly a nobody, Fox. And you work in the same building.”

But it wasn’t that. It wasn’t the kind of recognition you get from a LinkedIn profile or seeing someone on the elevator. It was deeper and older. The memory tugged at me again, like a whisper I couldn’t quite hear.

I shook my head, trying to clear it. “Forget it,” I said, pushing myself up from the table. “Let’s just hope she comes through with a good plan.”

“Better than a prostate exam,” he said. “I can’t believe she said that.”

I chuckled. “It made a point, though, didn’t it?”

“It did,” Jerrod said. “She’s unique. I’ll give her that.”

I walked out of the conference room and headed for my office. The image of her face stayed with me. I thought about that night in Paris. The woman I’d met by chance, whose name I never learned. I tried to forget her. Buried the memory deep. And maybe that was why Natalia Dawkins looked so damn familiar.

But it couldn’t be her. It was impossible.

And yet, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I’d just come face to face with a ghost.