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“I’m in no rush, besides I don’t lock up. Security switches on the alarms after the cleaners leave and they only start at midnight. What ideas do you have for the campaign?”
I sigh and look down at the jumble of quotes on my notepad and turn my gaze toward the different font types on my computer. I haven’t created anything definitive, but I have a concept I could carry through the entire campaign. For a moment I hesitate to tell him, and then I decide there’s no better time like the present.
“Size does matter…I’ve been thinking that should be the slogan. Then we can incorporate other size related quotes like: It’s not about what size you wear, but how you wear your size. Or this one: Beauty comes in all sizes. This is my favorite: Dreams come in different sizes, but Martinez comes in yours.”
Thick black brows rise as an impressed smile spreads over his face. “That’s very clever, Riley. I think you’ve really got something here.”
“I hope so.” I sigh and roll my head on my shoulders hoping to alleviate some of the stiffness. “I feel like I’m working from the principal’s office and he’s ready to expel me,” I admit ruefully. What was going on with my mouth? It’s spewing all my thoughts out without a filter. I must be tired.
Branson laughs and drags a hand through his messy, dark hair. “Don’t worry I’m more into spanking than expelling.”
As soon as he says the words my mind drifts in a thousand directions, none of which are work-related. I can see his eyes darken as he realizes what he said.
The walls of my office seem to box us in, just me and Branson alone in the middle of the night. I feel heat gather between my thighs as he looks at me. I shift uncomfortably in my chair hoping to relieve the need that collects in my belly.
I’ve never felt desire or attraction this strong before, and it scares me. It bothers me that I have no control over my body’s reaction to him. I glance down at my notepad and try to change the subject back to Martinez. “We can use this one as well. If you want one size fits all, wear a smile.”
Branson doesn’t smile or laugh as I expect. Instead, he leans forward on my desk and whispers a few inches from me: “I think your size will fit me perfectly.”
Blood rushes to my brain at his words.
Does he feel it too? I must’ve just imagined his words. He’s my boss for fuck’s sake. This was probably just a hallucination from dehydration or my sugar levels plummeting.
I stand up and grab my purse. “I really need to get home.”
“I’ll walk you out.” Branson stands up as well. His carotid is bouncing in his neck to the beat of my heart drumming in my chest. My hormones do a happy dance at the idea of Branson being attracted to me.
“No need. I know the way, besides you probably have loads you still want to do.”
“Riley, it’s almost midnight. I think I can go home now.” Branson gives me a cocky grin that makes my insides twist.
“You’re the boss,” I stammer as I walk past him out the door of my office. I need to get some fresh air and some food before I hallucinate having sex with my boss.
“Riley.”
The way Branson says my name makes me stop a few feet short of the elevator. I turn around and meet his gaze. His eyes had gone a dark stormy-blue, and his arms are folded across his chest. “Don’t wear that dress tomorrow, it distracts me.”
I nod and finally release the pent-up breath I had been holding when the elevator doors open. As the doors close behind me, I’m shocked by the idea running through my mind.
I’m actually considering having a hot affair with Branson Carter.
5
Branson
I reach for the mug of coffee on my desk and bring it to my lips, my eyes still on the blank screen in front of me. As I take a sip, I cringe. It’s ice cold. I glance at my watch and am surprised to see it’s almost six o’clock. I’ve been staring at a blank screen for nearly two hours.
Fitness Trainers contacted me personally three days ago about a design for their new budget sneakers. They requested I work on the project personally and I think it’s because news of the hot Martinez project is getting around. Normally I would gracefully decline and reassure the client that my designers were the best in the country, but in this case, I couldn’t. Fitness Trainers was founded at the same time I started BPC Advertising. They gave me a chance when no one else wanted to. I did their first designs from my apartment, meeting them in coffee shops because my offices were ‘under renovation'. These people are one of the biggest contributors to this company’s success. I’d probably do anything to keep them happy.
Ever since that first design both our businesses have grown from strength to strength. My designs have always been met by Fitness Trainers with awe and inspiration. But here I am stuck on a design with no idea of what to create.
Right now it looks like tomorrow is going to be the first time I let them down. Unless I can pull a rabbit out of a hat in the next few hours.
Three days have passed since their call, and I still have nothing. Zip, zero, zilch designs to offer them for their new sneakers. I shove away from my desk and walk over to the glass-paned wall, scanning over the Manhattan skyline.
Looking down on all the people walking in the street, all the multi-billion dollar companies surrounding me, and knowing how far I’ve come always inspires me. It makes me realize I’m the best in the business, that’s why people come here.
But right now, I don’t feel like the best. I feel puzzled and annoyed that I can’t come up with one single design. Was this what happens when you start to focus on the business end of things and not the creative side? I’ve been too focused on watching the bottom line.
