The Perfect Proposal (4 page)

Just the kind she ordinarily didn’t like and
never planned to get involved with.

At fifteen past nine, Annie whipped her
little coupe into a parking space. She grabbed her briefcase and
speed walked to the office. Upon arrival, she buzzed her secretary
to make certain that Lester Peters hadn’t arrived yet. To her
relief, he hadn’t. When William had announced that she and Mitch
would be competing for Lester’s business, Annie had initially been
horrified.

Les was an eccentric little cowboy who prided
himself on his family and his ability to smoke a cigar from tip to
butt without dropping an ash. In addition to his vast business
accomplishments, Les had a pudgy finger in almost every pie from
cattle to oil. He’d recently begun designing his own clothes. Annie
grinned. The outfit she’d last seen him in had rivaled some of
Elvis’ later getups.

In addition, he adhered to the “hands-on”
business approach and preferred to be included in every detail. In
short, though she’d grown fond of the little dictator, he was very
difficult to work with.

Which was the exact trait that Annie was
banking on to win this bizarre competition. She’d worked with Les
before. Mitch hadn’t, and therefore he had no idea what sort of
client they were dealing with. William asked Annie to give Mitch
the lowdown on Les. She had. She’d told him everything could be
found in a file. The rest Mitch would have to learn on his own. And
she couldn’t wait to see that.

Mitch tugged at the tie around his neck as he
waited for the elevator to deliver him to the sixth floor of
Hightower Plaza. He scowled. Hell, he hadn’t worn a damn tie to
work in years. They were a bothersome accent, undoubtedly designed
by a woman. A twisted woman. Probably ancestor of Annie
Witherspoon’s, Mitch thought uncharitably.

Yesterday Mitch had hoped for an afternoon
alone with William. Had hoped to persuade his uncle to give up this
harebrained scheme and give Mitch his rightful position as CEO. But
then Annie had shown up and foiled his plan.

Didn’t that woman ever stay at home? Did she
make regular appearances at William’s house, or was this some new
tactic to gain control over the company that his unsuspecting uncle
hadn’t figured out yet? To his regret, Mitch doubted it; William
had always been an excellent judge of character. Nevertheless,
Mitch chose to think the worst of her. It made what he was about to
do a lot easier.

Because Mitch fully intended to win.

He wouldn’t let a pair of big brown eyes come
between him and his heritage. Even though she’d been a thorn in his
side the majority of the weekend, he’d still managed to play a
little defense. Via the Internet and company files, he’d gleaned
every bit of information he could on Lester Peters. Annie had
volunteered a generous amount of information on the meat magnate
and, surprisingly she’d been truthful. Funny. He’d expected her to
be more devious.

At any rate, when he met Les Peters, he
wanted to be prepared. Mitch had been out of the advertising
business for a while, but he remembered that research on a
prospective client was an excellent place to start. From what Mitch
could discern, the mad had relatively simple tastes. Mitch
envisioned a tall, distinguished older gentleman. A man who wore a
designer suit, sensible shoes and kept a low profile. Mitch hadn’t
been able to find a single photo of the man.

Given all that he’d discovered, this job
should be a cinch. In fact, he had several good ideas already,
particularly one involving a picnic. He smiled confidently and rock
back on his heels. It wouldn’t be that difficult. Hot dogs were an
all-American staple. Who didn’t like them?

After some consideration, Mitch had decided
that Annie’s little groan when his uncle mentioned Les Peters had
been designed to disconcert him. Well, it wouldn’t work.

At last, the elevator glided to a stop. A
smile firmly in place, Mitch stepped into the office. A short,
plump woman with soft gray curls glanced up. A warm smile adorned
her round face. “You must be Mitch.” She vacated her chair and
bustled around the desk. “I’m Louise. Your uncle has told me all
about you. Come. They’re waiting for you.” She herded him toward an
office. “All the others are here.”

Already? Damn. He didn’t like being the last
one to show up at a meeting like this. Who knew what could have
been said before he arrived? Besides, one could learn a lot from
small talk.

Louise rapped on his uncle’s door, then
pushed it open. “Here’s our straggler,” she trilled, much to
Mitch’s mortification.

There went her Christmas bonus, Mitch thought
sourly. He smiled anyway. “Thanks, Louise.”

“
Quite welcome, dear. Would
you like some coffee?” When he declined, she left the
room.

Mitch put on a suitably apologetic expression
and looked at the occupants of the room. His gaze move right,
landing first on Annie, who occupied one of the leather wing chairs
flanking his uncle’s desk. She looked particularly pleased for some
reason, Mitch noted grimly. Whatever had put that grin on her
gorgeous face had to be at his expense.

A second later, he zoomed in on his uncle and
he nodded his good morning. At last, his gaze swung to the only
remaining wingchair. Mitch frowned. It was empty. Funny. Mitch had
been under the impression that—

“
No, dumplin’!” a loud
baritone exclaimed. “We will not be servin’ chicken at our family
reunion! Tell Cookie to forget it. Do I raise chickens? Nooo,” he
thundered in answer to his own question. “I raise beef! Honestly,
who ever heard of such madness?”

Thoroughly puzzled, Mitch inspected the
seemingly empty wingchair again. Then he saw them. Little boots
attached to short legs dangled from the chair, but didn’t quite
reach the floor. One step further into the room revealed the top of
a white cowboy hat barely visible below the seat back.

“
I know, sugar-pie, I know.
Don’t worry. I’ll take care of everythin’ as soon as I get home.
Love you too, darlin’. Mmm-hmm,” he cooed, then giggled. “Stop
that, you little vixen. You’re gonna make me blush in front of
these fine folks. Al’right. Bye-bye.” An electronic beep indicated
the call was over.

Uncle William smiled and waved Mitch forward.
“Come in, son. Come in.”

Mitch hesitantly stepped forward. Les Peters
peeked around the wing chair and smile broadly as Mitch drew near.
With a grunt, the tiny cowboy sprung from this chair and extended
his little hand. “Hi, there! I’m Les Peters! Glad to meet you!”
Smiling, he pumped Mitch’s hand up and down vigorously. “Heard a
lot about you. Your uncle says you’re some sort of computer guru as
well as an advertising whiz. Diversity, I like that in a man.”

Mitch struggled to keep his jaw from
dropping. “Nice to meet you, too, sir. I’ve, uh, heard a lot about
you as well.”

“
All good, I hope,” Les
proclaimed in a voice that would be more suited for the Jolly Green
Giant than the little elf it belonged to. And an elf would
undoubtedly have better taste.

Mitch couldn’t begin to imagine where the man
did his shopping. Circus City, perhaps? The Barnum and Bailey
Outlet Mall? The white leather outfit he wore had elaborate
stitching to match every color of the rainbow and so many
multicolored rhinestones that it was near painful to the naked eye.
Satin fringe flared from the arms, giving the impression of some
sort of exotic bird. A giant silver and turquoise belt buckle
completed the mind-boggling ensemble.

Les Peters smiled broadly. “I see you’re
admiring my suit. Don’t worry. When you get to the ranch, we’ll fix
you up.” He chuckled and gave Mitch’s Armani suit a less than
charitable look. “Put some color in your life. Olive ain’t a color.
Why everybody wants to wear something the shade of a dried-up cow
pie beats me.”

Before Mitch could contemplate any of those
cryptic statements, the flamboyant little man hopped back into his
wing chair. “Okay. Let’s get this steer branded. Time’s a-wastin’.
The little woman his ready to pull her purty hair out, what with
all this family reunion malarkey goin’ on.”

“
Mitch, Annie,” William
said, looking to each in turn. “Les and I have had an opportunity
to talk and we’ve decided that in order to see that he’s happy with
our services, we’re going to have to go at this campaign from a
different angle.”

Mitch saw Annie stiffen. “How different?” she
asked.

“
Well —”

“
If you don’t mind,
William,” Les interrupted. “I think I can get this puppy roped
faster.”

He turned to Annie. “It’s like this, sweet
cakes. I don’t want your regular ol’ hot dog commercial.” His oval
face puckered in distaste. “I’m tired of the picnic scenario,” he
said, shooting Mitch’s first stroke of genius all to hell. “I’m
tire of the jingles.” He flapped his arms, sending the fringe into
motion. “I want something that will make every man, woman and child
in this great country want a hot dog, right now. I want ‘em to eat
‘em for breakfast, lunch and dinner. I want the Winning Wiener to
be a household name.”

“
I’m sure we can make that
happen,” Annie told him, smiling politely.

“
Absolutely,” Mitch
confirmed, reluctant to let Annie score all the brownie points
during this first meeting. She shot him a scathing look.

“
Eh-yep, I haven’t a doubt
or I wouldn’t be here.” Les frowned. “But with all this family
reunion hoopla goin’ on, I ain’t got the time to hop in a jet and
come up here every time one of you has a brainstorm. That’s why
I’ve decided that you need to come to the Triple P. I want you to
tour the ranch, look at the facilities. See how the whole Peters
operation is run. Maybe it’ll give you some ideas.” Les smacked his
chubby thighs and bounded from his chair. “Well, that takes care of
business. Gotta go,” he announced. “I’ll have the guest cottage
readied. I’d invite ya’ll to stay in the main house, but with all
the relatives, there isn’t room…” He smiled apologetically.
“Anyhoo,” he sighed, “I’ll send another plane back for you all
bright and early in the mornin’. See you then.” He shook everyone’s
hand and gave William a wink. “Take care now, ya hear?” Then, in
rustle of leather and glittering rhinestones, he sped across the
room and out the door.

Annie gaped at William. Should couldn’t
possibly have heard Les right. “Are you telling me that we have to
go to Texas? He and I?” She pointed at Mitch. “Together?”

William nodded, confirming her fears. “You
heard the man. He doesn’t have time to come here.”

Panic roared through Annie’s veins. Her head
began to shake of its own volition. She darted a look at Mitch,
thankful for once they seemed to be in agreement. His gorgeous
mouth was set in a grim line, indicating that he didn’t relish the
idea of going to Texas either.

“
No. Uh-uh,” Annie said. “I
refuse to go. That’s the most preposterous idea I’ve ever heard.”
She crossed her arms over her chest. “I have other commitments
here, Les. Other clients.”

“
You know, Uncle William,”
Mitch chimed in to her relief. “I agree with Annie. She shouldn’t
go. She can’t just take off. Furthermore it takes more than an idea
to make a campaign come together. What about art? Graphics?” Mitch
shook his head as though the idea were preposterous. “It’s crazy…”
He sighed. “But I can go,” he said accommodatingly. “I don’t have
any obligations here at the moment.”

Annie shot him a withering look. The sneaky
bastard. “I don’t think it’s necessary that either of us go. It’s
ridiculous.”

William sighed. “I agree that it’s a little
odd,” he commiserated. “But if one goes, the other goes. It
wouldn’t be fair otherwise. As for the other problems that Mitch
pointed out, you each have a laptop. You’ll have a fax. Given that,
it won’t be particularly difficult to arrange things on this end.”
He smiled. “Think of it as a vacation.”

“
Well, whether it is or
isn’t, I’m not going to Texas,” Annie repeated stubbornly. She
leaned forward and stared at William beseechingly. “Didn’t you hear
Les? He said we’d have to stay in the guest house. I can’t stay
with him,” she hissed, jerking her head in Mitch’s direction. The
very thought of it made Annie’s stomach knot. Geez, she’d never get
any sleep knowing he was in the same house with her.

Mitch frowned at her tactless remark. “I
don’t think —”

William smiled, interrupting Mitch. “What’s
the problem, Annie? You find my nephew so irresistible that you
couldn’t share a house with him for a couple of weeks?”

Mitch smiled smugly at Annie. Immediately she
bristled. “Certainly not. It just wouldn’t look right, that’s
all.”

“
Since when have you not
been able to go on a business trip with a man?” William asked,
growing impatient. “This is a business deal—and there’s a lot
riding on it, I might add.”

Annie refused to give up hope that she could
make William see reason. “B-but we hardly know each other,” she
sputtered.

“
I know,” William said
matter-of-factly, further pressing his case. “All the more reason
to go. Regardless of the outcome, the two of you will be working
together. It’s important that you get to know each other, and that
you work well together.”

Frankly, Annie didn’t see that happening. Not
now, not ever. She and Mitch get along? She cast a skeptical glance
at his handsome profile. The man was too insufferable, too
infuriating—and too sexy, too gorgeous. Dammit, she didn’t mean to
attach any flattering adjectives to his image. But what could she
do? She simply couldn’t go to Texas with Mitch.

An innate sense of self-preservation prompted
her next words. She’d never uttered them before in her life, so it
was with extreme annoyance that she finally did.