Page 20 of Tough Luck

She stopped at the door to her building. “Well, this was… a very pleasant evening.”

“Sofia,” I started and then felt a knot in my throat while she waited, looking up at me. “I… don’t take this wrong, but I’m struggling with being attracted to you. I know I’m in a position⁠—”

Whatever I was going to say next stuck in my throat when she lifted on her toes and brushed her lips against mine.

That spark was back, only this time, it knocked my socks off and stole my breath away. Damn. She packed one hell of a punch. Her lips were soft and smooth, and she tasted like heaven. I wanted more. Needed it like I needed my next breath.

My hands slowly reached up and held onto her as she swayed against me. I angled my lips over hers and took what was offered, enjoying every heartbeat we were connected.

“Maybe I’m a little tipsy from the beer, or maybe it was the nachos.” She sighed, holding her lips against mine. “Nope, it’s the scent of sandalwood mixed with your blue eyes.” She smiled as her eyes searched mine. “Goodnight, Rick,” she said suddenly as she pulled back. I watched her walk into her building and cursed myself the entire way back to my rental.

Chapter 7

Sofia

The next few work days I was fueled by adrenaline and sheer, stubborn determination. I tried to put that quick kiss behind me. I’d been totally stupid to make the first move, but the beer had loosened my mind, and I’d been thinking about what it would be like to kiss someone else. But now, whenever I saw Rick, the memory of how he felt next to me flooded my senses.

So I focused all my attention on my work. Or at least tried to.

We didn’t know what Leonard’s pitch was going to be. Originally, he’d been dead set on a handful of images of men gathered around televisions watching sporting events. But I had an uneasy gut feeling that he had taken some of my ideas when he’d left. After all, Leonard was a parasite.

He had always managed to do enough homework before taking my ideas as his own that he surely knew the budget that CCB had talked to us about. My guess was he was going to come in way under what GSM would. And he was pitching the day before us, which gave him a leg up. I refused to let him catch me off guard.

By the following Tuesday afternoon, one week after I’d moved into my new corner office, it looked like a colorful hurricane had ripped through it. Foam-core presentation boards lined the walls, and sticky notes covered the windows. I’d been downing coffee to keep myself alert, and empty cups from the place down the street were scattered about.

Nova stepped into the office carrying a fresh tray of iced coffees. “This looks like your dorm room,” she commented. She set the fresh coffees down, and I dumped a few empties into the bin and cleared a spot on my desk.

“Shut the door,” I told her. I was not chancing anyone else stealing what I was creating again. This was mine and mine alone. I was careful to lock my ideas up each night in my office, and so far only Rick had seen my sketches.

“I need you to be brutally honest with me during this dry run,” I warned Nova.

“I am always brutally honest,” she replied, sliding into one of the chairs that sat across from my desk as she handed over my caffeine lifeline. “And for the record, the entire creative floor is excited to see what you’ve got. Everyone is rooting for you to stomp Leonard into the dirt tomorrow. We’re even taking bets that you’ll kick his ass and bury him. I never realized how many people hated the guy before now.” She chuckled.

Before I could reply, a knock rattled the frosted glass on my door, and Rick walked in. He had discarded his suit jacket, which made him look ruggedly handsome and entirely focused at the same time. When he shut the door behind him, he nodded to Nova.

“Nova.”

“Rick.” She smiled over at him.

It was strange knowing that they had known each other almost as long as Nova and I had been friends. I remembered all the times James or Jax had talked about Rick and Chris. I had yet to meet their youngest brother, who was attending medical school. But I had seen a few pictures of the family. The three boys could have been triplets. They had matching eyes, hair color, and, from what I could tell, builds. Tall, lean, full of toned muscles. The kind of man that women drooled over, who looked good in both a business suit or a flannel and worn jeans.

Rick leaned against the door and crossed his arms over his chest.

“All right, Sofia,” Rick said, breaking into my thoughts. “Marcus’s meeting with Leonard is just wrapping up right about now. Tomorrow at ten, it’s our turn. Show me what we’re bringing to the battlefield.”

I took a deep breath and stepped up to the center of the room, where three covered easel boards stood waiting.

“Leonard knows our agency’s standard playbook,” I began, my voice steadying as the familiar passion took over. “Which means he’s going to pitch something safe, corporate, and predictable. Before I showed him my first drawings, he was leaning toward men in bars watching sports, with hot women hanging on their arms. The standard beer marketing direction.” I rolled my eyes and Nova made a gagging motion. “Right. We are giving Clear Creek a distinctly different direction.”

I pulled the first cloth away, revealing the sleek, high-end lifestyle mock-ups I’d teased at the restaurant last week. They were classy, with historical and rustic vibes.

“This is our ‘Poured in Golden’ flagship,” I explained, gesturing to the cinematic visuals of Golden’s very own Mount Lookout and the topographic can designs. “They focus heavily on the local outdoor culture, using geo-targeted digital ads to capture tourists right as they step out of the creek. It’s elegant, premium, and highly targeted.”

Rick nodded, his eyes tracking over the layouts. “Classic, solid, and fits Marcus’s aesthetic perfectly.”

I stepped to the second easel and flipped the cover. “With our community-centric angle, instead of focusing strictly on tourists, this campaign targets local establishments and their history. We’ll design a series of short, documentary-style digital ads highlighting the local farmers who grow the barley, the heritage of historic downtown Golden, and collaborative community events. To tie that directly to the product, one line of cans will focus exclusively on the local wildlife—highlighting the dangerous, venomous, and predatory creatures lurking in the hills. Each can design gives the consumer a feeling of being a little on the edge while actively educating them. It positions Clear Creek not just as a brewery but as the literal heartbeat of Golden.”

Nova leaned forward, her eyes wide. “Ooh, I love that. It not only makes you feel like you’re part of Colorado, but it also plays heavily into the small-town local loyalty here. Local restaurants and businesses are going to eat that up. Plus, people who love the outdoors are going to enjoy the more edgy animal vibes. Look at that mountain lion.” She narrowed her eyes at one of my can designs. “Spooky. He’s looking at me like I’m lunch.”