One Night Standards (13 page)

“You're not stupid,” Mark said, sounding aghast.

“Yes, I am. But it's like you said—I wanted you so badly that I was willing to ignore what was staring me in the face.” She opened her eyes, feeling tears sting at the corners of them. She wiped them away hastily with her fingertips. “I know we've said it before, but this time, I really mean it. We can't get together again.”

“Ever?” Now he sounded bereft.

She bit her lip. “I don't know.”

“I don't want to lose you.”

The thought of losing him added to the pain she was already feeling. Her emotions were a maelstrom, dark and chaotic. “I don't want to lose you, either,” she admitted. “But I don't know how this can work.”

“There's too much at stake for both of us,” he said. “But this challenge won't last forever. At least give me the hope that when the damned thing is over, we might have a chance.”

“One of us is going to win,” she pointed out. “And that means one of us has to lose, Mark. As you said, there's too much at stake. Do you really think that we can overlook that when it's all over?”

He fell silent, and the two of them sat that way. It was all Sophie could do not to reach across the small table and take his hand, trying to either comfort him or gain comfort from his touch.

“If I lose,” he said, “I'll still want you.”

“I'll always want you.” The words popped out, unbidden, and she cursed herself for them.

His eyes lit. “Then there
is
hope.”

“I don't know,” she repeated. “All I know is, we've got two weeks, and then we'll know what happens, one way or the other. Until then—we've got to leave each other alone, Mark. We can't keep going on this way. I know it was my idea, but now…we've got no choice.”

Mark nodded, standing up, and she stood up, too. “You're headed out today?”

“Our flight's this evening,” she said. She didn't want him to leave, she admitted. As much as she knew it was smarter to cut all ties with him, the thought of not talking to him, of possibly never feeling his body against hers, was almost terrifying.

“I'm leaving tomorrow morning,” he said, and for a stupid, wild second, she thought about changing her flight—staying for one last night.

Do you really think that you can have one more “just one night”?
She winced at her own stupidity.

“Well, then,” she said, and held out her hand. “I guess we'll see you in New York.”

He took her hand, his warm grip sending shivers shooting through her. “Good luck,” he said. “And I really mean that, Sophie. I never meant to hurt you.”

She felt sadness like a lead weight on her chest. She nodded curtly. “Well, you won't hurt me again,” she responded. “We'll be ready for you.”

“I have no doubt.” But his voice still sounded full of remorse.

Then, slowly, tenderly, he leaned down and kissed her cheek softly. In that second, she felt as if her heart splintered.

Blindly, she turned, pressing a kiss against his lips. Not the usual conflagration of passion that they usually succumbed to. This was quiet, filled with need—and regret.

She broke away, then turned and headed toward the elevator. Back in the room, Lydia had finished packing. “Mom's meeting us at the airport,” Lydia said. “I just got off the phone with her. Says she's not surprised that Trimera's ‘big idea' was the ability to steal
our
ideas. She said that there's no way we can trust them and the sooner we bury their asses, the better.” Lydia grinned. “And you know when Mom swears, she's got to be super angry.”

Sophie listened to Lydia's patter absently, as she zipped up her own bag.

“Are you okay?” Lydia finally asked.

Sophie shook her head. “No. I'm not okay.”

“Today was bad,” Lydia said. “But we'll get even, don't worry. We've got one more chance. And you know Mom. She's even more creative when her back's to a wall. We'll figure out some way to pull this off.”

Sophie stared out the window. The problem was, even if Diva Nation came up with some way to win the final challenge, there was no guarantee that she could still have Mark. And if she did lose, she wasn't sure she could forgive Mark for practicing what he considered “just business.”

The way she saw it, there was no way on earth that she could come out of this a winner.

And the way she felt—in a very real sense, she had already lost.

“W
AY TO GO
, M
ARK
!”

Mark walked through the hallways of his office building, distracted. “Uh, thanks,” he said, nodding to whoever had called out the kudos. He hurried back to his desk. Ever since word of his coup at the San Francisco presentation had gotten out, he'd been getting congratulatory little e-mails and atta-boys from his coworkers. People he hadn't heard a peep from in his entire duration at Trimera were suddenly taking notice of him.
Everybody loves a winner,
he thought, trying to make the observation amused and not bitter. Even Carol had come up to him when he was getting coffee at the kiosk in the lobby of the building.

“I heard about how you pulled it out at the Marion & Co. presentation,” she'd said, her face looking as if she'd choked on a lemon.

“It went pretty well,” he'd responded, as low-key as possible…even though it
had
been gratifying to hear her concession. If he'd been more petty, he would've rubbed her nose in the fact that she'd abandoned him and set him up, having every expectation that he'd fail.

How do you like me now, huh? Still think the model is too stupid to handle the business?

But even that second of gloating was shadowed by the fact that Sophie was upset with him. Something he felt torn about.

We can keep it separate.

He glanced at his cell phone, turning it over and over in his hand. He'd wanted to call her every day since the San Francisco presentation a week ago. He'd managed to resist to this point.

Simone walked into the office. “So, how does it feel to be Trimera's great white hope?” She sat down in one of his chairs, beaming. “I knew you had it in you, Mark.”

“I appreciate the support, Simone,” he said, sitting in his own chair. “I wasn't sure how much you believed in me.”

“I believed in you,” she scoffed. “No matter what else people said, I knew you had the killer instinct. You know what you've got, and you're not afraid to use it to your advantage.”

Mark frowned, unnerved by two parts of that statement…the killer instinct, and knowing what he had and “using it.” “I'm not sure…”

Before he could finish, Roger, the VP of marketing, knocked on his door. “Got a minute, Mark?”

“Sure.” Mark gestured to another chair, then looked at Simone.

“No, this'll only take a sec,” Roger said. “And Simone can stay. I wanted to say, officially, that the higher-ups are very impressed with what we hear happened in San Francisco.”

Mark couldn't help it. His chest heated with pride, and he sat up straighter. “Thanks, Roger.”

“We had our reservations, believe me,” Roger said, deflating Mark's sense of accomplishment a little. “We didn't think you could handle an account of this magnitude. But I saw the presentation and the mock-ups you had built…and the time you had to do all of it.” Roger laughed. “If you can beat up the production department enough to get that quality in that short a time frame, then you've practically earned a raise right there!”

Mark laughed politely.

“Anyway, I wanted to let you know that we're keeping an eye on you, Mark,” Roger said, and Mark wondered if this was real, or if it was more rah-rah crap, designed to make Mark feel better without having any kind of real power behind it. Roger obviously saw Mark's hesitance because he chuckled again. “No bullshit, Mark. You keep this up, and we'll put you in charge of the new project…and maybe start grooming you for bigger things, huh?”

Mark's eyes widened. “Things on the marketing side?”

“I'll have another director position opening up soon,” he said, and Mark noticed that even Simone looked surprised by this announcement. “You show me you can handle Marion & Co., and I imagine you'll be paving the way for a nice promotion.”

“Director,” Mark said, savoring the sound of it. It was one step below vice president.

“Just land the damned account, before you start ordering new business cards,” Roger said, again with his harsh laugh. “Like I said—we're watching you.”

With that, Roger left the office, leaving a stunned Simone and Mark in his wake.

Mark took a minute to process Roger's statement…and offer. It was everything he'd ever wanted. Since he'd gotten his MBA, since he'd joined the company, he'd wanted to prove himself. He'd worked long hours, and taken a lot of flack from people who hadn't thought he was up to the task. How many conferences had he flown out to, no matter how small? How many drunken distributors had he smooth-talked, even as he'd avoided their blatant advances? It had been years of uphill battle, but finally, at long frickin' last, it looked as if it was about to pay off.

“Holy crap,” Mark finally said. “I guess he started reading my reports, huh?”

Simone shook her head. “He really didn't like you, either. He was mad when you challenged him at that one meeting. I thought he'd bury you, for sure.”

“Well, you've been standing up for me since day one,” Mark said, grateful for her loyalty.

“I didn't know they were thinking of looking for another director,” she replied, looking shell shocked.

It occurred to Mark—Simone was a director. Which meant that, if he got promoted, he'd be at her level. Obviously this wasn't something she was prepared for. “We'd still be working together,” he said, wondering if that helped or not.

“Oh, I'm taken aback at the speed, but I've always said…you're smart, and you just needed a chance.”

To his surprise, she stood up and shut the door, looking at him intently.
Oh, lord, now what?
“Uh, Simone…?”

“I have to ask,” she said, leaning against his desk. His entire body tensed, and he leaned away from her, rolling his chair back slightly. “Is it true?”

“Is what true?”

“There's a rumor floating around,” she said, her voice conspiratorial, “that you slept with the enemy.”

He would not have been more shocked if she had simply slapped him. “What? Where did you hear that?”

“Oh, don't worry—I didn't hear it from somebody at Trimera,” she said. “And Roger certainly doesn't know, and I'm not spreading it. But word on the street is, you and that Sophie woman got pretty cozy in San Francisco.”

Mark felt his body flush with anger and embarrassment. He knew he should issue a quick denial, but found his lips couldn't form the words.

She sat back down in the chair, laughing. “I knew it. I
knew
it! Didn't I tell you she looked interested in you, back at that first conference?”

Mark couldn't remember, so he sat silent, seething. Who had seen them? Who was spreading the rumor? And how far had it gone?

“I knew that you were sharp,” she said, and her tone of admiration made him feel dirty.

“Now wait a minute,” Mark said sternly. “I didn't sleep with Sophie for any kind of advantage. Damn it, I didn't get any information from her! I didn't do
anything
with her that helped me win that presentation!”

He immediately realized that he'd confirmed the rumor.

“I didn't say you did,” she replied innocently, still looking amused. “But you went after Diva Nation like an attack dog in San Francisco. Even if you weren't involved with her, that was a thing of beauty. But knowing that you could actually sleep with her, and
still
manage to pull off the presentation…” Her knowing grin was broad.

Mark was shaken. “It was just business,” he justified.

“That's it exactly. You were able to handle your business, no matter what you were doing in your personal life.” She shook her head. “Lots of people thought you were superficial—handsome, charming, and not that smart. But not me. I knew that you had plenty of ambition—and the right sort of brilliance to capitalize on what you had. And like I said, you've got the killer instinct. You won't let anything get in your way.”

“I've got ethics.”

“Of course you do,” she demurred. Somehow, that didn't make him feel better. “Still, I'd cool it with Sophie, if I were you. I understand what you're up to, but other people—like Roger—might not.”

“He might pull me off the account?” Again, like a punch in the stomach. Not that it mattered, since Sophie was already out of the picture.

“No, Roger won't care how you got the account,” she said. “But if he thinks you slept with somebody to get it, he'll lose his respect for you.” She shot him a quick, gimlet grin. “Besides, Roger's boss is a woman and he might start getting scared that you'll sleep with her, and try to get his job.”

“That's not funny, Simone,” Mark said darkly.

“Oh, relax.” Simone was obviously tickled by the whole situation. “I'm just saying, keep it quiet.”

“Getting involved with Sophie was never about the business,” Mark said. “And I need you to keep it quiet, too.”

“Of course,” she repeated. “Mum's the word.”

With a wink, she left his office. He did not feel comforted. Simone was now worried about her own position in the company. He knew that she'd seen him as a protégé, of sorts…but she'd expected to be promoted because of that, not to see him start to catch up with her. Now that she was armed with the information that he'd slept with Sophie, it was a matter of time before she saw a use for that information.

He rubbed at his temples. Here he was, on the brink of getting everything he'd wanted professionally—and he was seen, and admired, for being a bloodthirsty shark in order to get it. He was already losing Sophie in his pursuit of the account. Now, he felt perilously close to losing his soul, as well.

There has to be a better solution,
he thought grimly.
There has to be another way.

Suddenly, an answer pierced his thoughts.

If someone had told Simone about him and Sophie, then the news must have filtered back. Did Sophie know? And did she think that he spread the rumor?

He grabbed his cell phone, started to dial her number…then stopped himself. If she didn't know, how much worse would it be if he told her? Would he be helping her? And would she blame him for convincing her all those months ago to sleep with him in the first place?

He sat, paralyzed. His already untenable situation was getting worse by the minute.

I have to figure out some way for us both to come out winners.
That way, he could have the promotion, have the respect he'd been working toward all his life—and keep the one woman who meant more to him than anyone he'd ever cared about, ever.

He closed his eyes.

He was good. When it came to business, he was very damned good. But as good as he was, he had absolutely no idea how he was going to pull this off without some kind of miracle.

“I
CAN
'
T BELIEVE THE NERVE
those people have,” Sophie's mom said, her face grim. “We've got better products is the bottom line. How do they think they can win?”

“Trimera has all the advantages of a big company behind it,” Sophie replied, her own tone subdued. “They're going to offer all kinds of concessions that we can't. Price breaks, incentives, the whole nine yards.” She sighed, trying to make sure her mother understood. “One of the main reasons we're trying to land this account is to make Diva Nation profitable enough for you to have a solid retirement, Mom. If we tried to match Trimera's incentives, we wouldn't make any money at all.”

Her mother looked heartbroken—and angry. “I can't believe this. They got rid of me once, and now they're doing it again!”

“Mom, you're not helping,” Sophie pointed out. “If I were them, that's how I'd attack. I wasn't thinking strategically in San Francisco.”

“I don't know
what
you were thinking in San Francisco,” her mother said, sounding bewildered and hurt. “Honestly, Sophie! To just…just
sit
there and let them do that to us!”

Sophie let the insult slide—mostly because she agreed with her mother. She didn't know what she'd been thinking in San Francisco. And, consequently, she'd allowed herself to get blindsided.

It's not going to happen again.

Lydia walked in. “I tweaked the packaging,” she said, showing the small cardboard mock-ups. “Now, they still incorporate our design sense, but they're closer to what Marion & Co. already has, so they've got the corporate branding thing.” Lydia grinned humorlessly. “So now we're ripping off Trimera's idea.”

Sophie nodded. “Don't worry about them ripping us off. I think I've got some ways to combat that. The bottom line is, in New York, all we'll have is our product and our innovation. We're going to have to push that.”