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“Well, yes. In your office you looked at me as if you were hoping I’d just vanish into thin air.”
On second thought, that was safer. Now he was looking at me as if he was hoping my clothes would vanish.
His eyes darkened. “I’m sorry about that. It wasn’t personal. I just don’t appreciate being blindsided. I promise, I’m not an asshole.”
I’d pieced that together myself. He really was more of a Mr. Darcy type. My kryptonite.
“You’re also not patient.”
“Is that so obvious?”
“Oh, yes.”
“Care to change that?”
“Sure. I’ll wait for your message. Not too long though, or I’ll take matters into my own hands.” He flashed me a megawatt grin. “You know what they say. Go big or go home.”
And I knew exactly what he’d choose.
Chapter Seven
Hailey
On Monday, I started the day by calling a contact of mine at LA Lifestyle, running by him the idea of publishing an interview I did with a client. I didn’t mention Reid’s name, because he hadn’t agreed yet, but I wanted to have everything in place in case he did. I got a half-promise out of my contact, but that was better than a rejection. I knew he’d be all in once he knew the client in question was Reid, because no one had ever published an interview with him.
As everyone started to filter in, I was already done with the most arduous task of the day.
I kept glancing at the phone, hoping Reid would send me a message. I’d badgered him over the past few days, and yesterday evening might have phrased everything as an ultimatum, but I needed to get things moving: I needed an answer before nine o’clock today.
At eight fifty-eight, the screen of my phone lit up with an incoming message.
Reid: Okay. I’ll do the interview.
I sighed, almost wanting to hug the phone. This was an enormous step forward.
Hailey: Thanks for letting me know. I’ll set everything in motion. We need to meet sometime this week.
Reid: My pleasure.
My thoughts just careened off the right path completely. I didn’t get to discuss the details though, because Cameron called us all in for the weekly meeting.
“You’re chipper,” my colleague Alena mentioned as we walked side by side. “Great weekend?”
“You could say that.”
We each presented our highlights, and when my turn came, I brought everyone up to speed on Reid’s case. Cameron beamed at me. I loved impressing the boss, and that was especially difficult in the fourth week of a month, because we also compared the stats to last month’s. Every time I earned his approval, it was as if I was proving to myself that the switch to PR had been smart. I’d taken a pay cut, but the stress at the old job had been too much. I’d already been on the verge of quitting because I was missing out too much on my family’s life. But one incident sealed the deal. We’d been working on a huge case that had us spending nights at the office. During one of those nights, I got violently sick. I threw up repeatedly and broke out in a sweat. They’d rushed me to ER, where I’d been in the care of an elderly, slightly surly doctor. He’d asked me how many coffees I’d had. I’d told him that I’d stopped counting after the eighth one.
He raked me over the coals, informing me that my blood pressure had spiked so much that I’d been dangerously close to a stroke. I’d started looking for another job the next week.
Cameron made the rounds after the meeting, stopping in my office just before lunch.
“I’ve got to say, I didn’t think you’d get through to Davenport, but I should’ve known you wouldn’t back down.”
“He’s not as tough as he seems. You just have to find the angle that works for him... like doing that interview myself instead of letting a stranger do it.”
Or, I thought with a pang, giving in to him, letting him kiss the living daylights out of me.
“How did you talk him into it?”
