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Adam scanned the reception area. “Where is everyone?”
“Everyone?” She turned, forcing herself to keep from drifting closer to him after catching a whiff of his heady scent.
“Your staff. Receptionist. Assistants. Interns. I had visions of a busy office like mine. Your client list is a mile long.”
It used to be a lot longer. When Josh was here. There had been a lot of things when Josh was still there— someone to share the workload, someone to talk to about her problems, someone to hold her at the end of a long day and tell her that everything was going to be all right. Her support system, her safety net, was gone.
If she’d had the strength to put the right spin on the merits of a one-woman operation, she would have, but she’d spent her morning creating spin. Putting a glossy shine on everything she said to Adam was exhausting. It was so much easier to be honest. “It’s just me right now. Lean and mean. Makes things a lot simpler.”
“Oh. Okay.” He seemed skeptical despite the affirmation, furrowing his brow. “But who runs the office? Who buys office supplies and fixes computer problems? And what about things like arranging your travel or organizing your calendar or hell, even the little stuff, like making appointments to get your hair cut or running to the dry cleaners?”
When he had to put it like that, it made it all sound impossible, so utterly absurd. “Maybe my life isn’t as complicated as yours. I work all day, I go home and sleep. Rinse. Repeat.”
“Sounds boring.”
It is.
“And a little unfulfilling,” he had the nerve to continue.
“It isn’t, thank you very much. It also makes it remarkably easy to keep myself out of the tabloids.”
Awkward silence hung in the air. “Ouch.”
She felt horrible. “I’m sorry. That was out of line.”
“Just seems like you’d get a lot more clients, and bigger ones at that, if you had a staff to take care of the little things. You need to delegate if you’re going to be successful.” He was not about to let this go.
“Follow me. I need to get you guys some coffee. Unless you’d prefer water.”
“Definitely coffee. I need the afternoon pick-me-up.”
Melanie stalked into the state-of-the-art office kitchenette, twenty times nicer than what she had in her apartment and just as expensive, to finish cobbling together some hospitality, yet another of the many hats she wore. She removed a lacquered tray from the cabinet, spread out a white linen napkin and topped it with a sugar bowl and pitcher of cream. Two teaspoons were added to finish it. “Will you want anything to nibble on? I have a few different kinds of cookies in the pantry. Or I could run down to the bakery and see what they have for pastries.”
“See? Like this. You should not be doing this. You’re a smart, capable businesswoman and you work hard. You should not be worrying about cookies and pastries for a client.”
Did he really see her that way?
He leaned against the black granite counter, his hand close to her hip—so close he could’ve touched her with little effort if he’d wanted to. “I’m not wrong.”
Oh, he was all kinds of wrong, only in that he was a little too right. Ideas swirled in her head, of a hot kiss in the break room, his insistent lips on hers. Maybe he’d back her up against the refrigerator with enough force to flatten the back of her hair, maybe even hard enough to make the magnets fall off the door. If that ever happened, he wouldn’t hesitate to untuck her blouse and snake his hands along her back. He’d unhook her bra, mold her breasts in his hands. She’d have no choice at that point—she’d have to take off every stitch of his clothes so they could send each other into blissful oblivion. Or she could slam on the brakes, as she had in the mountains, because a tryst with Adam in the kitchen, or anywhere else, would be wrong.
Melanie’s eyes fluttered. Her face flushed, her chest burned. She’d have to stick her head in the freezer if she allowed herself any more daydreamy latitude. No more Adam fantasies. Not today.
She filled two mugs emblazoned with Costello Public Relations. What a joke. Her company was hardly custom coffee cup–worthy in its current state. Adam had insinuated as much. “Anything else, Mr. Wizard? Should I be taking notes?”
“Very funny. Mr. Wizard. I’m just giving you a little free advice. I do know what I’m doing, you know.” He claimed one of the coffees from the counter and added a splash of cream. “I made my first million out of a dorm room. I know how to grow a company.”
“You know how to grow your company. We’re in two completely different lines of work. Believe me, I know how to grow mine.” Sure, she could snag a lot more clients if she didn’t have to worry about things like vacuuming the office before meetings. It didn’t matter. She simply didn’t have the means. She’d have to work more and sleep less until that turned around.
