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Chapter 1
Brady
“This project is taking twice the amount of time you promised.”
Her snapping blue eyes were my favorite part of the day. I particularly liked when she licked her lips, the soft pink tone of her tongue slipping out, preparing to send some kind of scalding remark back my way. Or the way her chest would rise and fall so heavily as she gathered her thoughts, her armor.
Or maybe it was because most anything to do with Cecelia Grove was the best part of my day.
I smirked at her, knowing exactly how much I provoked her only enhanced my enjoyment. Feeling the seconds tick by as she planned her assault, I could almost see the switch flick on in her mind as she landed on the final decision of what she’d do to tear me down today.
Not that I minded. After all, I was supposed to be in at least one other meeting right now. But there was no way I was leaving now. Not yet anyhow.
“Mr. Martinez, we will be finished when the product is up to the standards of both Leden and Grove Communications. Something you wouldn’t understand since you continue to exist at a level that consistently underwhelms me.”
The wide, twitching eyes of my staff only made my smirk deepen. My, my, my, wasn’t she spicy today.
Cici glanced down at her nails, painted a flaming red today, as if sharpening them for the final plunge. I rolled my tongue over my teeth, hiding my smile. She wasn’t done yet. Not by a long shot. “Perhaps Leden wouldn’t need so much marketing assistance if their director of marketing put down his phone and spent more time participating rather than updating his Tinder profile. Or offering criticisms where they aren’t warranted.”
I held up my phone, shaking it at her lightly. “But then, wouldn’t you miss me?”
“I don't think I need to answer that one.”
“Oh, but I want to hear it.”
“Could you two stop flirting long enough to finalize this new social media campaign? Then I promise we will get out of your way, put earbuds in, and let you two work it out.”
Raising a brow, I looked down at Ashlyn Grove, Cici’s niece and partner in her family’s marketing business. The younger woman was usually the sweet, soft-spoken mediator between Cici and me. Apparently we had pushed her past her limits today.
“Sorry, Ashlyn,” I offered softly. The woman was doing us all a favor being here. She was supposed to be upstairs having lunch with her CEO fiance, Liam Macklen. When there were some issues with the targeted advertising, I had asked to borrow her for our coordination meeting with Grove Communications.
Now I had pissed off the CEO, his future bride, and the woman who consumed my every waking thought. What a way to start the week.
“It’s fine. Let’s just roll through these dates so I can get my lunch.” Ashlyn’s eyes dropped to check the time on her phone. “I can still make it if we hurry.”
“We’ll hurry then, Ash.” Cici gave me a wary look, her fair cheeks still flushed. “Mr. Martinez, why don’t you just send me those revisions via email so Peter and I can walk through them.”
Cici rose smoothly from her chair, her hands sliding her laptop into a dark leather bag. Beside her, Ashlyn was shoveling her own papers haphazardly into her own. They were headed out. Like some kind of asshole kid tugging the braids of the girl he liked, I scrambled to find a way to provoke her into staying.
“Are you sure you want more emails from me?” I folded my fingers together and rocked back in my conference room chair. The only sound between us was the gentle buzz of the white noise machine and the whine of the fluorescent bulb in the corner that was burning out.
Cici’s lovely face stared at me as she shifted her bag to her shoulder. I’d spent weeks studying her features across this conference room. The golden hair, cut in a sharp slice across her collarbones, the heart-shaped face complete with sweet button nose that contrasted so much with the ripe fullness of her lips just below. Those lips were temptation itself. You could tell a lot about what Cici Grove was thinking if you watched her mouth enough. Which I had.
Ashlyn shuffled between her aunt and the table, breaking our staring contest and mumbling her goodbyes. In the background, I heard my two marketing assistants slip out of the room after Ashlyn, leaving just the two of us.
“Email me, Mr. Martinez,” she offered coolly. “You can handle that, correct?”
I shifted in my chair, my face a carefully schooled emotionless slate. I knew in my gut that part of the reason I was slowing this process so much was because in a matter of weeks, I wouldn’t have a reason to spend three days a week playing verbal volleyball with Cici Grove.
And so I did something I’d promised myself I would never do again.
“What about dinner?” At first I didn’t think she heard me, since her movements didn’t change in the least. Shame be damned; I opened my mouth to repeat myself, when she finally looked up to meet my gaze. The look on her face was a mixture of confusion and suspicion.
“What about it?” Her bag snapped shut with a decisive snap.
“With me. Tonight. We can grab some wine, great food, and talk strategy.”
Cici cocked her head, a rueful smile on her lips. “Are you kidding me? Do you remember what tonight is?”
