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Miles has the right idea keeping things formal. We should use last names.
The door opens, and my chest squeezes at the sight. He’s wearing a thin, black sweater that clings to his muscles and gray pants. He walks past me without a look and pauses at Miles’s desk. “Let’s see what we’ve got.”
My breath tightens in my throat, and I blink twice before tearing my eyes away from his ass. I remember every detail, every line of muscle on his body, how his skin felt against mine.
“Take a seat and we’ll run through it. Or should we go to the conference room? Which would you prefer, Joselyn?” Miles smiles. “Do you mind if I call you Joselyn?”
So much for formalities.
“I don’t mind.” My voice seems too soft, too delicate, and the muscle in Spencer’s jaw moves. “It’s your call. We can go through the folder here or we can use one of the large tables to spread them out and look at the pictures all together.”
“I’m sure Daisy told you the Oceanside Hotel said yes.” Miles rocks back in the chair. “You’ve worked in their facilities. What would you recommend?”
Spencer’s eyes are fixed on my hands, which are now trembling as I turn the plastic-lined pages. Clearing my throat, I steel myself against his unfriendly demeanor.
“I’ve done so many different events… This is the first time I’ve done anything for antique dealers.”
“They’re just as banal and boring as everyone else, I assure you.” Miles is a friendly counterbalance to the glacier standing beside me.
“Okay…” I hesitate at a photo of a palm sculpture. “If I at least had an idea of what type of theme you were wanting.”
Miles shifts in his chair. “I had hoped you or Daisy could take the lead on that. Themes aren’t really my strong suit.”
“He’s more of an idea guy.” Spencer turns, and I jump back, nearly knocking my folder off the desk. He catches it, still not smiling. “Tell you what, I’ll take Joselyn to my office, and we can go through this and pull something together.”
“Brilliant!” Miles smiles broadly, clapping his hands and rising.
“I don’t mind working something up for you on my own—”
“I have some ideas I’d like to discuss.” Spencer’s voice is firm, and he meets my gaze at last.
His hazel eyes are flat, and I feel very small looking up at him, even though I’m four inches taller than Miles. I feel like I could hide behind him.
“Okay.” My voice is subdued.
“I like this plan.” Miles motions us to the door. “Spencer has impeccable taste. I can’t wait to see what you two come up with.”
My portfolio is in Spencer’s hands, and I study his broad shoulders as he strides out of the office and down the hall. I can see the muscles rippling through that sweater. He’s powerful and arrogant, and what the hell am I doing here?
“Chivalry is dead.” Miles chuckles, breaking the spell. “His office is just at the other corner there. The north and the south.”
“Warmth versus freezing?”
“Something like that. He won’t win Mr. Congeniality, but he’s hardly ever wrong.”
Squaring my shoulders, I decide I made this bed and had sex in it. I can meet this challenge head-on. Hell, Spencer being cool and professional is exactly the right approach to get things back on track. I have no idea why he summoned me here today, but he said I could always tell him to stop, and he would.
Hopefully he’s better at keeping his word than I am.
Chapter 8
Spencer
“These pieces should work.” I flip the oversized pages, stopping at a photo spread of life-sized floral sculptures of a couple dancing in Regency attire. “Since that show on Netflix, everyone is into this royal type of thing. Or maybe it’s since that Oprah interview.”
“This is actually Belle and Prince Adam.”
“I’m not familiar with them.”
