The Pitch: City Love 2

She’s in a long-term, committed relationship. With her business.

In three years Madeline Spencer has single-handedly grown her marketing agency, Grounded Marketing, into one of the country’s fastest growing companies. But her success has been at the expense of her social life, and her girlfriends have had enough. They’ll do whatever it takes, from speed dating to blind dates, to show her there’s more to life than work.

Only Maddy is having a hard time forgetting about her business. She’s about to pitch for her biggest client ever and the mysterious media mogul, Paul Neilsen, has volunteered to mentor her. Maddy might just be in with a shot of landing the account – if she can keep her mind on the job. Working with Paul is not at all what she’d imagined, and Maddy finds herself torn between her ever increasing workload and her feelings for Paul. She’s discovering playing in the big league means making sacrifices … and Maddy must decide what she can’t live without.

For those who encouraged me to write the series. 

“My girlfriend and I have an open relationship.”

I stared at the stranger sitting across from me and attempted to digest his honesty. He had warm, brown eyes that returned my gaze with a flash of mischievousness. And I’d noticed earlier in the night he was at least my height, with cropped light brown hair and just the right amount of stubble.

Damn it. Why did he have to go and open his mouth?

I managed to maintain my composure. “Your girlfriend knows you’re here?”

“She does. She’s even open to meeting someone from tonight, if you know what I mean. I’m Damon, by the way.” He revealed a breathtaking smile.

Oh.
Oh.
Well, this wasn’t going to work, because I definitely wasn’t into
that
. It was a shame because Damon was my last chance of the evening. “I’m Madeleine. And sorry, not my thing.”

I was discovering the honesty of speed dating was refreshing.

“Are you sure?” Damon studied me seductively over the top of his wine glass.

It was hot in the small bar area but judging by the way Damon was eyeing me I probably should have left my tailored tan suit jacket on, I realized. He seemed to appreciate my favorite azure tank-top, which revealed my long, slender arms and highlighted my cleavage. Obviously he liked brunettes and my olive complexion. I surreptitiously flicked my long hair forward to protect myself from his wandering eyes.

“My girlfriend would definitely go for you,” he persisted.

Good God. I cast my gaze around the room of the small bar area in search of the woman who had gotten me into this mess. My friend, Scarlett, was sitting five tables away in the corner of the bar, studying her latest match with a look of amused indifference. She glanced my way and raised her eyebrows when she saw who my date was. Then gave me the thumbs up.

Was she crazy? Yes, actually she was. She was the one who had convinced me to come tonight, against my better judgment. She’d already met Damon and probably thought he was just the thing to end my four year man-drought. Typical.

Damon wasn’t about to give up. “Would you be interested in meeting my girlfriend first? Then you could decide.”

I flashed him my brightest smile. As it took its full effect he straightened in his seat. “Sorry,” I said. “I’m a one man woman. I’ve been told I can be hard to handle, if you know what I mean.” Arrogant? Perhaps. But then so was being propositioned on behalf of his girlfriend on a speed date.

Damon held up his palms in defeat. “Point taken.” He looked at his watch. “Looks like we still have five minutes for small talk. So, what do you do for a living, Madeleine?”

I stifled a sigh. This was so much fun. “I run my own business.”

“Really? What sort of business?”

“A marketing agency focused on environmental brands.”

“Interesting. How long have you been doing that?”

The small talk was arduous, but then again it was preferable to being propositioned. “Almost four years.”

“Are you successful?”

What sort of question was that? And what was his definition of successful? “Successful enough that I haven’t had time for a relationship.”

That was an understatement. Last year, my marketing agency, Grounded Marketing, was named one of BRW magazine’s fastest growing businesses. It looked as though we would achieve the accolade again this year too. I employed twenty staff, and after three years had made enough profit to pay off the mortgage on my harborside apartment.

If someone had told me five years ago when I was an exhausted advertising account manager that at the age of twenty-nine I’d be in this position, I would have laughed. Except for the part about no man in four years. That was less amusing.

Damon continued to contemplate me through his long lashes. I wondered how many women had fallen for those looks, only to discover his penchant for variety.

“Sounds like you’ve been working too hard if there’s been no time for men.”

I shrugged. He was partly right. “That’s what you do when it’s your own business.” It was time to change the subject. “So, what do you do?”

“I’m a futures trader.”

“Pays the bills?”

He smirked. “And then some.”

Figured. He struck me as the type to work hard and play hard. We chatted for the next few minutes and I did my best to keep the discussion centered on Damon, which was exceptionally easy. I discovered that aside from his relaxed approach to relationships, he was relatively unremarkable. He was into rugby and cricket and lived in a penthouse apartment near Bondi. It sounded as though he spent his weekends getting drunk, maybe even drugged, and engaging in alarming amounts of recreational sex.

I had the odd urge to run back to the office and work on our latest business pitch. I’d much rather be doing that than sitting here reminding myself why I was still single.

The light tinkle of a bell alerted us to conclusion of our final speed date. I stood, then quickly offered an outstretched hand for Damon to take when he started to lean in for a kiss. He stepped back with a grin and shook my hand courteously.

“It’s been a pleasure, Madeleine. I hope you find some time in your life for a man. He’d be a lucky guy.”

It was actually quite a nice compliment, but I wasn’t sure how to return the sentiment.
Good luck with your quest for a new playmate for you and your girlfriend?
“Thanks Damon. It’s been lovely meeting you.”

I shuffled over to the bar area and caught the bartender’s eye. “A chardonnay, please.” I had the feeling I’d need more than one.

“Oh come on, he wasn’t that bad.” Scarlett’s rich voice cut through the hum of conversation.

I leveled a glare at my friend. “Not that bad? He’s got an open relationship and says his girlfriend would be interested in me.”

“He’s good looking,” Scarlett pointed out helpfully.

“And that’s enough for you?” My voice had taken on a haughty, superior tone.

“It’s been four years, Maddy.”

“And it will be four more if the men here tonight are any representation.”

I heard a man quietly clear his throat from behind me. I turned, then reddened. “Sorry. I didn’t mean – ”

“Forget about it.” He grabbed his drink from the bar and retreated to the other side of the room.

Scarlett smirked. “Nice.”

“Well, how about you? Did you uncover anyone suitable?”

“Seeing as you’re not interested in Damon, I might take a crack. Will depend on the girlfriend though.”

I shook my head. Scarlett Wong was one of a kind. Born to Chinese migrant parents, Scarlett was what I considered dangerously exotic. She barely came up to my shoulder, although at six foot, that was a relatively common occurrence for me. She wore her raven hair fashionably cropped, and her red pouty lips and sensual eyes outlined in kohl stopped men in their tracks – to their downfall. When she opened her mouth you’d better watch out. She was refreshingly no-nonsense and down-to-earth, or more accurately, painfully honest.

“You’d seriously consider the girlfriend option?” I asked.

Scarlett frowned thoughtfully. “Again, depends. She’d need to be happy to share because I’m not the type to stage girl on girl hour for Damon’s appreciation. I’d need some male action.”

I bit back my smile and then took a long sip of wine. “Is this why I’m still single? Because I’m too conservative?”

“You’re conservative. So are plenty of other people. There weren’t any others you were interested in tonight? What about Will?”

“What about Will?” Will was my first speed date of the night. He was pleasant enough but he also lived with several cats and his mother. He claimed it was because he was studying part-time as well as working, but that just translated to high maintenance. The last thing I needed was a man who was used to being looked after when I barely had time to look after myself.

“Looks like we’ll have to move on to Plan B.”

My eyes widened. Scarlett had a Plan B? I knew my career-consumed life was due for an overhaul, but I didn’t like the sound of that. “Plan B?”

“Mmm. Blind date time.”

“No way. This was bad enough.” I placed my glass on the bar so firmly the wine sloshed dangerously close to the rim. “What if I don’t like him? Then I’ll be forced to spend an entire evening making small talk. At least this was only ten minutes per man.”

“We’ll vet the men first. They’ll be people we know,” Scarlett assured me.

“We?”

“The girls and I have a few ideas we’ve been tossing around. Don’t worry.”

The girls she referred to were our other close friends, Christa and Cate. It was disturbing they’d been discussing my single status when I wasn’t around.

“No. I don’t think so. Thanks anyway.”

Scarlett reached over and placed a hand on my outstretched arm, preventing me from picking up my wine. “Don’t pull that this-conversation-is-over tone with me, Maddy. You work too hard and you need to get out more. End of story.”

I eyed my friend silently and waited until she let go of my arm. Wine in hand, I finished it in one long gulp. “Come on. Let’s ditch this place. I’ve had enough for tonight.”

Scarlett shrugged and followed me out into the night. Her words were still ringing in my ears. When it came to my closest girlfriends and my prolonged single status, I had a horrible premonition that speed dating was only the beginning.

Business was so much easier than men.

A sense of relief flooded through me when I arrived at the seventeenth floor. It was Tuesday morning, the night after my disastrous speed dating evening, and I was happy to be back at work.

I strode toward the double glass doors that held the name of my small empire, Grounded Marketing. It was eight am and it looked like I was the first in the office. This wasn’t unusual. I liked to start my day before most of the staff started to filter in. It gave me the chance to get organized, catch up on emails and be ready for morning meetings.

I flicked on the overhead lights and watched the vast space come to life. I’d been extravagant when doing the interior design and had opted for desks in woody tones, cleverly molded to look like fairytale tree trunks. I believed in living my brand and if I owned an environmentally focused agency, then it was going to look the part.

“So. Did you find your dream man?”

I jumped at the sound of Christa’s melodic voice behind me. I forgot I’d asked her to come in early to help prepare for a pitch meeting. Her blond curls were loose, framing her heart shaped face and her bright blue eyes looked hopeful.

I grimaced and continued toward my office.

“That bad?” She hurried after me, which was no easy feat. Compared to my gargantuan six-foot stature Christa was barely five foot and what we referred to endearingly as “height impaired.”

In my office, I threw my bag under the desk and turned on my computer. Christa sat in the leather seat opposite me and leaned forward, anticipation etched into her features. I studied my closest friend and felt myself soften. What she lacked in height, she made up for in personality. Our nickname for her was “Bubbles” and it suited her to a tea.

“The pick of the night was a dashing young businessman who was seeking a playmate for him and his girlfriend,” I informed her dryly.

“
No!
”

“Yes.” I typed my password into my computer and waited for it to boot up. “Scarlett thought he’d be the perfect match to end my man-drought.”

Christa snorted softly. “She would. Let me guess, she’s interested in him, isn’t she?”

I nodded and broke into a wide grin. Christa laughed.

Christa Morrison was my oldest girlfriend. We’d met in first grade and had been close ever since. At first my parents were perplexed by my choice of friend. I was quiet and studious, while Christa was outgoing and constantly getting into trouble for opening her mouth in class. It usually involved saying something inappropriate. Unintentionally of course.

I looked fondly at my girlfriend. I suppose I’d been a good role model for her because she hadn’t gotten into nearly as much trouble when she was with me, the teacher’s pet. Christa’s friendship had benefits for me too. I was a painfully shy child and alongside Christa I’d grown in confidence. Without her, I wouldn’t be where I was today.

“Surely there were some other decent men there?” she asked.

I’d always admired Christa for her boundless optimism. “Not a one. There was cat man still living at home with his mother.” I looked up from my computer and shot her a look. “He’s thirty-eight by the way.”

“Oh dear.”

“Mmm. Or there was the recently divorced journalist who appeared to have a drinking problem? He was quite the catch.”

“Oh, Maddy.”

“I’m better off married to my business, if you ask me.”

“Don’t say that!”

“It’s true.”

Christa stood up and walked to my desk, looking down at me in concern. “Maddy, let’s not lose hope. If me of all people can successfully settle down and have a functioning relationship, anyone can.”

I managed a small smile. She was probably right. Christa’s relationship history was both colorful and entertaining. We’d given up hope for her last year when she fled a romantic proposal from a gorgeous Frenchman she’d met while traveling. Tiny case of commitment issues.

And who would have thought it would take my big brother, Max Spencer, to sort her out? They’d been together almost a year and I was still in shock.

The idea of my brother with my best girlfriend who went through relationships like she did toothbrushes had sent me into fits of panic. But Christa and Max had proved perfect for each other and when I wasn’t slightly nauseated by the two of them together, I was secretly jealous.

“I appreciate your devotion to my cause, Bubbles, but perhaps I shouldn’t try to force things? Maybe I’ll meet someone on my own.”

Christa leaned on the edge of my desk, her colorful shirt reminiscent of a Rembrandt. “I have two words for you: four years.”

“I know,” I replied defensively. Boy, did I know.

“I say we try for Plan B.”

“Not you too! I’ve already told Scarlett I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“But we’ll know these guys. It’s not like you’re hooking up with some random male you’ve met online.”

I pointed a long finger in her direction. “We all know I’m never going there again.”

“Yes.” Christa noticeably paled, good friend that she was. “Yes, we do.”

The horror of my one and only online date still haunted me and I refused to relive it or even bring it to mind. He was nothing like his picture or profile, and he made Damon look good.

“How about we suggest a few possibilities and then you can see how you feel? Full disclosure, okay?”

I ignored her and started scanning my emails, of which there were at least fifty since I’d checked last night. “Mmm. Oh, shit.”

“What?”

“I totally forgot. Dad’s organized for me to have some mentoring sessions with a colleague of his. The first one is today at ten am. Damn it. We’ll have to make sure the meetings are finished by then.”

It wasn’t that I was annoyed at my father – far from it. We had a big pitch presentation in development and it had totally slipped my mind.

“Who is it? Anyone you know?”

“No. Someone called Paul Neilsen. He runs that big media agency, NTRtain, over in North Sydney.”

Christa looked impressed. “I think I’ve heard of him. He’s very successful, if I’m thinking of the right guy. Meeting with him would be good for the agency.”

“Exactly. Dad always delivers.” My father was a retired senior financial businessman who had extremely good contacts in the corporate world. He remained very well respected and it was his monetary support that had enabled me to get the agency off the ground.

“Let me know how it goes. I’d better get a move on and finish polishing those concepts ready for our meeting.”

Christa was one of my most senior graphic designers and a talented artist as well. I’d lured her to Grounded Marketing when she’d had a moment of weakness. She claimed friendship and work didn’t mix, but she was still here one year later.

Christa stood and walked to my office door, then turned back to me. “But first I require coffee. Would you like one?”

I grinned. Christa’s reliance on her morning coffee was well known. “No, I’m fine. I’ll see you at our meeting.”

For the next hour, I immersed myself in the long list of emails and reviewed meeting agendas, forgetting about my appointment with Paul Neilsen.