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The pilot announced that it was time to buckle in for landing and Dean wasn’t surprised. The flight to New York had felt like the shortest of his life because he’d spent it figuring out how to keep investors from dumping his stock, when, really, if he was one of them he’d drop his stock like a hot rock.
He and Jason buckled in. The jet landed and taxied to his private hangar. They unbuckled their seat belts and stepped into the aisle only to find Kristen Anderson facing them, looking furious.
He squeezed his eyes shut. This was why he didn’t deal with people. He wasn’t considerate. He had a one-track mind. Right now his company was in danger of total failure. He didn’t have time to listen to a pitch for something he neither needed nor wanted.
“Sorry. I’d say you could have the limo ride to my office to chat, but then you wouldn’t be able to turn around and fly home.”
Her pretty face softened a bit. “I’m okay with that. Just have your plane take me back to Grennady instead of Paris and I’ll be fine.”
Dean started to say, “Okay,” but Jason caught his arm. “She can’t have the limo ride. You have to start making those calls the minute we step off this plane. I’m guessing you’ll be spending the entire day talking. After that there’s the Christmas gala.”
“I can miss that.”
Jason sniffed a laugh. “Really? After you spend an entire day convincing brokers that the company’s solvent and you’re fine, not some prima donna genius who doesn’t understand real life, you think you can miss an event where you actually mingle like a normal person? The one that opens the season? The one that everybody goes to?”
Damn it. Jason was right. The speculation of why he hadn’t attended the party of the year could undo all the hours he’d spend making those telephone calls.
He unhappily caught Kristen’s gaze. He hated messing up the way he had with her. He didn’t make mistakes. And even when he did, somehow or another, the situation turned out okay, as if his instincts could see the future and know there was a reason he’d done whatever unusual thing he’d done.
But not this time.
There was no “reason” that he’d strung her along except that he had an odd feeling in his gut every time he looked at her. And now he had to brush her off.
“I’m sorry, Ms. Anderson. It appears I really don’t have time to talk to you. It’s best you take the plane back.”
“Seriously? I just sat patiently for hours and you won’t even listen for fifteen minutes?”
The word sorry was on the tip of his tongue again but he swallowed it. Technically this wasn’t his fault. “You orchestrated this. I told you I was a busy man. You took a risk and it didn’t work out.”
Jason caught his arm, but he addressed Kristen. “Just hold on for one second.” Then he faced Dean. “Can I talk to you in the back?”
Dean reluctantly followed Jason to the aisle in front of the office.
“We sort of have a weird opportunity here.”
Not following how or why, Dean said nothing.
“We want to counteract that article. We want brokers and big investors to see you as a normal guy, and be comfortable that you’re not worried about the situation with the new games.”
Dean quietly said, “Yes.”
Jason nudged his head toward the front of the plane. “So why not take her to the party tonight?”
Dean laughed. “What?”
“No one’s ever seen you date. You keep your relationships private. The press has been dying to catch you with a woman. But more than that, a date makes you look normal. Happy even. Who knows? The next article might come out speculating that the rollout is late because you’re preoccupied with your new girlfriend. It’s a chance to totally spin this mess in our favor.”
Dean glanced up at Kristen. His heartbeat slowed. The sweet tingle of attraction rolled through him. Attending a party with her was exactly what his hormones wanted. “She is pretty.”
“She’s more than pretty, Dean. She’s gorgeous. The kind of girl everybody expects you to end up with. She, personally, might not have breeding, but she works for a royal family. She’s on the periphery of the jet-set crowd, good-looking enough to attract someone like you. The connection is logical. We’ll send her out with Stella to get something for the party. Shoes, dress, whatever the hell she needs. Then she’s on your arm tonight.”
