Steal My Heart (Bachelors & Bridesmaids) (17 page)

After dinner, they'd made out a little by her car and then parted ways to drive back to the city. For some reason neither one of them had pushed to keep the evening going, even though things were going incredibly well. But she wanted the competition to be over before they got even closer. Despite the fact that they'd both said they could take the loss, who knew how either of them would feel when it actually happened?

"Where's Christa or Ed?" she asked.

"Haven't seen them. Maybe this means we're the final two."

"It would seem appropriate if it came down to the two of us."

He gazed back at her as if he wanted to say something, but then decided against it.

"What?" she prodded.

"Nothing. Let's get this over with."

He seemed tense for a man who was usually cool and confident.

"You're nervous," she said.

"And you're not?"

"Oh, no, my stomach is definitely doing somersaults."

"I feel the same way. If this was just about me…"

"I know. It's harder to lose when the loss affects someone else."

The receptionist interrupted their conversation. "You can go down the hall. Mr. Hayward is ready for you."

She had to fight the urge to take Michael's hand. They weren't together in this, she reminded herself. They were two opponents about to find out who would be the victor.

Charlie stood up as they entered his office. He gave them both a welcoming smile and waved them into the two chairs in front of his desk.

"Miss Palmer, Mr. Stanford, you both delivered excellent presentations yesterday."

Liz drew in a breath, wishing he didn't feel the need to bother with compliments. She just wanted him to get on with it.

"I called you here together, because I wanted you both to hear my thought process. Your firms each have strengths and weaknesses," Charlie continued. "And quite honestly, while I thought I had made a decision this morning, that changed about fifteen minutes ago. Neither one of you made this an easy choice. First of all, I'd like to say that the other two agencies were eliminated yesterday. Neither one understood or gave me what I was looking for."

Charlie directed his gaze to Michael. "You have celebrity connections that no one else has. But celebrities only get me so far, and your firm is young and not as experienced. Still, I liked your campaign and thought it showed great promise. You understand what I want for this park, which is very much like a child to me. That sounds ridiculous, but it's how I feel."

Charlie then turned his gaze to Liz. "You presented what appeared to me to be almost two disparate campaigns. You blended them together as skillfully as you could, but there was a disconnect in there, and I couldn't help wondering why. It puzzled me most of the night, in fact."

She could tell him why but she didn't want to get into office politics.

Sitting back in his chair, Charlie rubbed his jaw, his gaze still on Liz. "Fifteen minutes ago, I got a call from one of the new partners in your firm, Brian Hargrove."

Now, she felt sick. What the hell had Brian been thinking?

"Mr. Hargrove said he wanted to make sure that I understood how much your agency wanted my business and that if I wasn't comfortable with anything in your presentation, they would be happy to change it. In fact, he would be happy to meet with me personally. He told me that your father is ill and that in dealing with his health issues, you may not have as much time to commit to my account as you wish."

"Mr. Hayward, I assure you—"

He cut her off with a wave of his hand. "Let me finish. It became quite clear to me during our conversation that your firm does not want you to run my account, Miss Palmer."

How could she argue with that? Still, she had to try. "When I commit to a job, I go all in. I don't quit, and I don't allow distractions to get in the way of my job. My father's health is an ongoing issue, but I'm not his primary caregiver, and he's better at the moment."

"I have no doubt that you would try to do your best for me," Charlie said. "But I don't think your firm will let you do your best for me. Judging by the conversation with Mr. Hargrove, I suspect I will find my company embroiled in your agency politics, which is not what I need or desire. Therefore, I've decided to award the account to Mr. Stafford's firm."

She swallowed hard as a multitude of emotions ran through her. She'd lost to Michael—
again
!

She'd really thought she'd had it this time. Her proposal was better than his, but Brian Hargrove had stepped in, shot his mouth off and blown everything.

"Congratulations, Michael," she said, forcing the word out.

Michael gave her a concerned look. "Thanks."

She looked at Charlie. "I know Michael and his firm will do a good job for you."

"I am sorry, Miss Palmer. I liked your ideas a lot. I was leaning in your direction, but I can't let my company get caught in the middle of a war."

"I understand."

"Do you remember what you said to me when you left yesterday—about how the park had changed your life, made you remember who you used to be?" Charlie asked.

"Yes."

"Well, if you don’t mind some unwanted advice, I'd suggest you think about whether your firm is really where you want to be now. They tried to impress me by bringing in the big guns, but I always wanted you. I knew, like your father, that you would be honest, creative, and ethical. And it's quite clear to me that your father's former company treads a fine line in some of those areas."

"Things have changed a lot since my father left the firm."

"After I spoke to Mr. Hargrove, I realized why your presentation felt like it had two parts. One was theirs and one was yours, wasn't it?"

"Yes. They didn't want me to present my side, but I couldn't waste your time without giving you my best." She got to her feet. "I do very much appreciate the opportunity to pitch. Thank you for that. I'm going to go now and let you two talk strategy."

She turned and left the room without giving Michael another glance. She couldn't look at him right now. She wanted to be happy for him, but she was too caught up in the emotion of losing and the shock of how the firm had sold her out.

Walking quickly out of the building, she didn't slow her pace until she reached her car. Once inside, she sat back and drew in a couple of deep breaths as she looked at the flying flags surrounding the park. She would have loved to work on this account. But it wasn't going to be hers. And truthfully, deep down inside, she knew that even if she'd gotten the account, Brian and the other partners would have been on her every second to do things their way.

She'd told Michael yesterday that she'd had an epiphany—that she'd realized she could cower in the corner or follow blindly like a good soldier. She had to take charge of her life and her career.

Picking up her phone, she called Brian. "Nice move calling Mr. Hayward," she said.

"I assume that means we got the account."

She found herself smiling at the cocky note in his voice. "He was going to give us the account, until you called. He said he couldn't hire a firm that didn't support its own employees and that it was clear to him that if he went with us because he wanted me, he was not going to get me. So, no, Brian, we didn't get the account. Mr. Hayward's millions are going to another firm."

"That's a bunch of bullshit, Liz, a nice story to cover up the fact that you lost. In the end, that's all Bill and Howard are going to care about. You lost a huge account for the firm. Don't be surprised if your office doesn't end up in a closet."

"Oh, that's not going to happen," she said.

"Your dad can't protect you anymore."

"I don't need him to protect me." She hung up the phone before she could say the words that were hovering on her tongue—
I quit
. She wasn't going to give Brian the satisfaction of taking her resignation. No, if she were going to change her life, she would do it the right way.

* * *

Michael rushed out of the office a good thirty minutes after Liz had left, hoping he'd find her waiting for him outside. But she was gone.

Of course she was gone. She'd lost to him again.

Even though she'd told him yesterday she could handle whatever happened, clearly the loss hurt—a lot. Not just for her but for her dad. And the fact that he'd played a part in hurting her didn't sit well. But her loss wasn't totally his fault. Liz's own company had taken her down. If the partner at her firm hadn't called Charlie, Liz would be celebrating and he'd be dealing with how to break the bad news to his sister.

Which reminded him that he needed to call his sister. He pulled out his phone.

Erica answered on the first ring. "Well?"

"We got it," he said, still amazed he was bringing her such fantastic news.

"I can't believe it. I was hoping, but I really thought it would go to Damien, Falks and Palmer."

"Charlie was leaning that way, but in the end he went with us."

"This is freaking fantastic."

"It is. I'm leaving now. I'll bring champagne to the office. Tell everyone to be ready to celebrate in a few hours."

"Are you kidding? We're starting now. Drive fast. Actually, don’t drive fast, drive safe, because we need you for all the work that's coming our way."

He smiled. "I'll see you soon." He hit Liz's number next. The call went immediately to voice mail.

"Lizzie, I need to talk to you. I know I'm not your favorite person right now, but call me back. We said we weren't going to let the results of our competition change things between us. I don't want to turn us into liars. Do you?"

Chapter Sixteen

Liz listened to Michael's message as she got out of her car and walked up the steps to her parent's house. She didn't want to be a liar, but she wasn't ready to call him back yet. She had something important to do first. Actually, she had two things to do, and she was quite certain that the first would be the most difficult.

She found her dad in the family room. He was reading a book, his glasses sliding down the bridge of his nose as he raised his gaze to hers. She didn't know where her mom was, but it was probably better that she talk to her dad alone.

"You're spoiling me, Liz," he said. "Three times in one week."

She kissed him on the cheek and sat down on the couch. "How are you feeling?"

"Like I wish that didn't always have to be your first question."

"Sorry. I know you get tired of people asking."

"I appreciate the concern, but I'm feeling better. I know it probably looks to you like I spend all my time in this chair, but your mother and I made it around six blocks earlier today, so I got my exercise."

"I'm glad you're out walking again."

"Of course I have to listen to your mother go on and on about how she wants to redo the garden based on all the other yards in the neighborhood."

"Of course," she echoed, as they exchanged a smile.

"But now that we have my health out of the way, should I assume this has to do with work?"

"It does. I just drove back from Playworld, and I didn't get the account. I'm sorry."

"Why are you apologizing? I'm sure you did your best."

"I did. And I would have had the account if Brian hadn't called Mr. Hayward and tried to throw his weight around. Charlie Hayward is a very smart man, and he quickly realized that I didn't have the firm's support. He was right, I don't have anyone's support. They want me gone, Dad."

He sighed. "I know. You've been fighting so hard, and I should have told you a long time ago to stop. It was my fault. After they moved your office and stripped away some of your accounts, I knew what was happening, but I didn't want them to win, so I let you keep battling, but the truth is they won when I left."

Hearing her dad talk, she had a feeling she knew exactly where her competitive will to win came from. "The truth is that they lost when you left. Charlie told me he asked for me because he respected your record and he figured you'd taught me right, and you had. He didn't want Damien, Falks and now Hargrove; he wanted us, you and me."

"I wish we could have had our own company, Liz. I just wasn't counting on getting sick and having to retire so early." He paused, giving her a long look. "But that's the way things ended up. You need to live your life, honey. And I don't want you to ever think that you let me down. I'm the one who let you down by trying to get you to finish my fight. That wasn't fair. I had my life."

"Don't talk like it's over," she interrupted.

"I didn't mean it that way. I don't know what's coming my way, but I do know that my career is done. I'm retired now, and I'm going to start enjoying things instead of wishing I could have my old life back. I had a great run in PR. Maybe you will, too. Or perhaps you'll decide to do something else. But whatever you decide, I want you to pick for yourself and not for me."

A tear dripped out of her eye and she hastily wiped it away, knowing her dad hated to see her cry. "Thanks, Dad. You know I love you."

"I love you, too. And I'm planning to stick around for a long while. I want to walk you down the aisle, Lizzie."

"Then you're really going to have to stick around for a long time," she said with a watery smile.

He grinned. "I don't think it's going to be that long. I saw the way you looked at Michael; the way he looked at you."

"He beat me again," she said.

"Then maybe it's time you ended up on the same side."

"You sound just like him." She got to her feet. "I'm going to the office now—to hand in my resignation."

"Don't give 'em two weeks. They don't deserve it."

"You're right. They don't. But I probably will, because my dad taught me how to be a professional."

He tipped his head. "You're my girl."

"Always," she said, blowing him a kiss as she left the room.

* * *

The party at Michael's firm was going into its third hour with most of the staff well on their way to a good buzz. Michael left the celebration for a moment and stepped into his office to check his phone. He was hoping to see a message or a missed call from Liz. It was almost seven. Where the hell was she and why wasn't she calling him back? He tried her number again, but once more it went straight to voicemail.