The Pitch: City Love 2 (9 page)

“Oh, don’t give me some bullshit rhetoric about risks, Scarlett. I run a business for God’s sake. I know about risks.”

“Yes, but you don’t know men like I do.”

“Well,
obviously
– ”

“Shut up. That man has feelings for you and you’re just going to let him get away.”

“He does not have feelings for me! Can’t you just get that into your thick head?”

“Jesus,” Scarlett said under her breath. “You might be good at business but as far as men are concerned – ”

“Just because I don’t fuck every guy I take a fancy to does not mean I’ve got no idea about men!”

John cleared his throat from beside me and I noticed him for the first time since we’d gotten in the car. “Sorry,” I said.

He shook his head. “It’s alright. I’m sorry I kissed you.” He pointed toward Scarlett. “She put me up to it.”

I forced myself not to laugh. I did genuinely like him. “It actually wasn’t that bad,” I told him.

He looked relieved. “Good to know.”

I turned back to Scarlett. “And putting poor John in the center of this is just unfair.”

“John’s a big boy. What I was trying to say, is that you didn’t see the look on Paul’s face when John was kissing you.”

“That’s because I was kissing John,” I muttered.

“He looked like he’d been kicked in the guts.”

“Wait. He did?”

“Yes! He went stiff as a board. I couldn’t decide if he was crushed or pissed, but either is a good reaction.”

I dropped my head into my hands and groaned. “Seriously. How on earth does this shit happen to me?” I moaned to no one in particular.

“Shut up and stop whining. This is good, Maddy.
Really
good.”

I raised my head and I knew the look I was directing her way was not a friendly one. “Please explain to me how this situation is in any way good, because right now I don’t see it.”

“Well, for one,” Scarlett said, zipping into a tiny gap in the traffic before we shot onto the Harbour Bridge, “John’s kiss has confirmed that Paul definitely has feelings for you.”

“Scarlett.” I was trying to be tactful, but my anger was getting the better of me. “Right before you arrived, I told Paul that I valued him as more than a business colleague. I told him I considered him a friend. Do you know how he reacted?”

“Well, I’m guessing he didn’t kiss you,” she replied dryly.

“No,” I said impatiently. “He was so awkward about it, I was grateful you turned up.”

“That’s because he doesn’t want you as a friend. He’s too busy imagining ripping your – ”

“Scarlett,” I cried. “Will you give it a rest?” I ran my fingers through my hair in frustration, then looked at John still sitting quietly beside me. “Would you believe this woman is actually my friend?”

He grinned at me. “She has a strange way of showing it,” he agreed.

I couldn’t help it, I grinned back at him. “How on earth did she talk you into this?”

“Bribery.”

“Well, obviously, but it must have been pretty good to – ”

“He’s agreed to pose nude for me,” Scarlett said cheerily from the front seat.

I opened my mouth and closed it again, then turned to John. He reddened.

“What can I say? I’m cheap,” he said with a shrug.

And desperately in love with Scarlett, I thought. The poor guy was going to be used and abused. I just hoped for his sake he enjoyed it along the way.

“Anyway, as I was saying,” Scarlett said interrupting my thoughts, “this is good. Paul wants you and now he wants you more because he’s seen you with John.”

“I mean this with no disrespect to your parents, but what sort of sick, twisted upbringing did you endure to make you conclude that me being with another man is good for my relationship with Paul?”

“Jealousy is a powerful motivator.”

“Except Paul can’t even tell me how he feels when I’m available! What makes you think he’ll be able to do it now?” I looked out the window, grateful we were taking the turn off to Milsons Point. We were only a couple of minutes from my apartment and I couldn’t have been more relieved.

“My bet is he’s going to surprise you, Maddy. The quiet ones are always the most dangerous.”

I hated that my skin tingled in response to her statement. Or that the image of Paul doing things best left unsaid crept into my mind. “I’m not a betting woman,” I said between clenched teeth.

“But you’re a beautiful, intelligent woman, my dear friend,” Scarlett said lightly. “And I’m guessing that’s enough for Paul. You’re keeping him up at night, mark my words.”

I muttered an oath under my breath as we pulled up in front of my apartment building. I reached down and grabbed my bag, then opened the door. “Well, thank you for the ride. The small issue of ruining my love life requires no thanks, however.”

Scarlett gave me a satisfied look and raised her shoulder in a small shrug. “You’ll thank me later.”

Maddening. She was so goddamn maddening. I leaned down and looked at John. “Bye, John. Thanks for the kiss.”

He grinned and blushed at the same time. “No worries.”

“Enjoy your nude session,” I replied coyly, then laughed as I walked up the front steps to my apartment.

“I may never speak to her again.”

Cate looked at me sympathetically. “Was it really that bad?”

“Worse.”

It was Saturday morning and I was having coffee with Christa and Cate. I’d insisted on Ripples Café under the Harbour Bridge for breakfast, my shout. I was still recovering from the events of the night before. I figured a little indulgence might go a long way to making me feel better. It wasn’t quite ten in the morning and the harbor was doing a very good job of distracting me. The water was a breathtaking azure blue and the Harbour Bridge towered above us, the steady rhythm of the trains and traffic an oddly comforting background noise.

“She was just trying to help,” Christa offered.

I pointed a finger at her. “Do not try to defend her actions. She is a dangerous, scheming woman.”

“Who just wants to see you happy,” added Cate.

I threw my hands in the air. “This is supposed to be a designated bitch session about Scarlett. Instead, you defend her.”

“I’m not defending her,” Christa said. “She’s gone too far this time, I agree. I understand why you’re pissed. I was just trying to remind you that her motivations were good, even if her actions weren’t.”

“As are ours,” Cate said. She reached over and placed her hand lightly on mine. “What do you think you’ll do?”

“After I de-friend Scarlett, you mean?”

Christa gave me a small smile, obviously used to my dramatics. “Hey, at least you know Paul probably has feelings for you now.”

I grunted. “Possibly,” I allowed. I’d had a hard time getting to sleep last night. A very hard time.

“I don’t think it’s as bad as you think,” Cate said cheerily, ever the optimist. “So what? You tell Paul that you’ve gone out a few more times with John and that it didn’t go anywhere. It fizzled out. Then you’re available again.”

“And in the same situation I’ve been for the last few weeks. Powerless.”

“That’s where I’m going to have to agree with Scarlett,” Christa said. “You need to make a move.”

I suppressed a groan. “I know I’m a modern woman and all of that, but I have so much to lose if it backfires. It’s a business relationship, not just a personal one.”

Cate’s green eyes studied mine for a long moment. “Do you think it’s worth the risk?”

“I don’t know. What do you both think?”

“I’m probably not the best person to ask,
”
 said Christa. 
“
Let’s face it. I was prepared to go behind your back with Max and risk losing your friendship.”

“Because that’s how much you love Max,” Cate said, her voice firm. Then she turned to me. “Is it love or lust?”

“Whoa. I think we’re getting ahead of ourselves here, girls. We’re talking about an incredibly sexy, very private man. How can I love him, when I don’t really know him yet?”

“But you want to.”

“Yes.”

Christa flicked a stray blond curl away from her eyes. “Kiss him.”

I rolled my eyes at her. “If only it were that easy.”

*

I hated that I was nervous.

I ran a business, which meant I spoke regularly in front of staff and at business presentations. Nerves were something I’d banished long ago, once I’d emerged from my cocoon of bookishness in my mid-teens. Funnily enough, it was the act of kissing a boy that had set me free. My first kiss.

All I’d seen when I’d looked in the mirror at sixteen was a too-tall, awkward teenager. I was confident when it came to my studies but painfully shy around my peers, particularly guys. It was Christa who pointed out that the boys couldn’t seem to take their eyes off my long legs or my obvious cleavage. At first it had made my shyness even harder to bear.

Until I developed a crush on a senior boy – two years above me. The memory of Evan still made me smile. All the girls had a crush on him, not just me. Tall, muscled, with head of unruly sandy curls, he was distracting and unobtainable as most crushes were. He’d been dating a girl in his grade since they were fifteen, so the rest of us had to be content to simply admire him.

It was huge news when everyone discovered his girlfriend had moved and he was single. Not that I thought I stood a chance. The concept was laughable to me. I’d never even kissed a boy. I wasn’t in any of his classes, and only caught rare glimpses of him around school.

Then Christa took me to that party. She was going out with Matt – a friend of Evan’s – who I hadn’t really liked. Christa’s parents had just divorced and she was having great fun getting into trouble with Matt, in part to spite her mother. So I agreed to go along to the party to look out for her – not that I told her that.

Evan was there, and like every girl in the room, I couldn’t keep my eyes off him. I was so astounded when he came over to offer me a drink that I actually went mute for a minute. I simply nodded and squeezed Christa so hard she giggled.

Evan returned with some beer that I thought tasted like a cross between wet carpet and mold. I managed to drink it in minutes despite its foul taste, because it gave me something to do with my nervous hands. After the beer was finished I discovered I wasn’t so shy anymore.

Suddenly I was making Evan laugh with my dry humor. After half an hour, I realized – barely able to breathe – he couldn’t take his eyes off me. He offered to walk me home and all I could do was nod, unable to speak again at the thought of being alone with him.

We were silent for most of the walk home. It wasn’t awkward; the silence was full of anticipation. Evan threaded his fingers through mine just after we’d left the party, his touch and nearness making me lightheaded.

At the corner to my street, I stopped him. “I live just up here.”

“Can I see you again?” His voice was low and just a little bit husky.

I stared into his blue eyes, shocked at what I saw. Heat and need pulsed at me through the darkness.

I still don’t know what made me do it. Perhaps it was that look in his eyes that made me realize I had no need to be shy, because being desired is a very powerful thing.

I took one step closer and pressed my lips to his. They were warm and soft, and the low groan that escaped his throat made me bolder.

There, standing in the quiet neighborhood streets with Evan, I discovered confidence was a good thing.

*

I shook myself out of my reverie, the sound of a car horn bringing me back to the present. It was Tuesday night and I was meeting Paul at the client drinks evening he’d invited me to. I stared up at the steps and the imposing glass doors at the top. The bold, silver lettering of NTRtain Media reflected the setting sun.

I took a deep breath and started up the granite steps, mentally preparing for the evening. I hadn’t thought about Evan in years. Perhaps my first boyfriend had been on my mind because confidence was what I needed when it came to Paul. If only it was as easy as leaning over and kissing the man. Things had been a lot simpler when I was sixteen.

I checked my reflection in the glass doors. My fitted teal dress came to my knees and hugged my curves. It looked professional enough when worn with a jacket, but I was well aware that with my jacket hanging on my arm, the dress flattered my tall figure. I regularly wore my hair up at work in either a high ponytail or a bun, but today something made me leave my dark mane of hair flowing well past my shoulders.

I pushed the glass doors open to a well-lit foyer. To my right was a sleek, white reception desk with comfortable looking red armchairs across from it. Mounted on the front of the desk was another silver NTRtain sign glittering at me. A young blond woman sat behind the counter.

“You’re here for the client drinks?” she asked, smiling.

I nodded. “That’s right.”

The woman stared at me intensely for a moment and I glanced down at my dress self-consciously.

“You must be Madeleine Spencer, right?”

I tried not to frown at her. “Yes.”

I was about to ask her how she knew, but she smiled again. “Paul told me to expect you. If you’d just like to follow the corridor to the very end and then turn right, that’s where you’ll find everyone.”

“Thanks.” I returned her smile and then started down the hallway toward the sound of people talking. I slowed to take in picture after picture of framed media coverage. NTRtain had certainly achieved a lot in ten years.

I rubbed my hands down the side of my dress. Nerves were making my palms sweaty. It wasn’t the fear of mixing with strangers – I’d done that too many times to count – it was the thought of seeing Paul again after Scarlett’s interference last Friday night.

I inhaled a deep breath, straightened my shoulders, and continued in the direction of the noise. Near the end of the hallway, I heard the distinct sound of two male voices and I stopped.

“I thought you said the goddess was coming tonight?”

“She is. She’s running late. And stop calling her that.”

I breathed in sharply at Paul’s familiar voice. I was suddenly glad the hallway was carpeted and they hadn’t heard me.

“You’re the one who called her that in the first place. I’m still waiting to see evidence of her goddess-like attributes.”

“Remind me why I went into business with you again?” I heard Paul say dryly.

“Because of my good looks and charm. Oh wait, that’s you. I’m the funny one.”

There was a beat of silence and I wondered if Paul was smiling. “Just be sensible alright? I respect her immensely, so no funny business.”

“You’re no fun. Why haven’t you made a move on her yet?”

I thought I heard Paul swear softly under his breath. “Not that it’s any of your business, but she’s taken.”

“What? Surfer dude? Oh, please.”

“She’s young, Greg.”

“And you’re debonair, charming and have so much more to offer than a surfer.”

“I’m forty-four years old, divorced, and have two children. I’m not stupid.”

“Yes, you are. If she’s as good as you say she is, you’re fucking stupid.”

“Just stay out of it and keep it professional.”

“Right there. That’s your problem. You always keep it professional. If you’d kept it less professional and spent more time on recreational pursuits with your wife, you wouldn’t be considering why you’re too old for the goddess now.”

I winced and did my best to remain quiet, my heart thumping loudly.

“You’re an asshole, Greg.”

“Yep, that’s me. I’m just jealous. I want your goddess and I haven’t even met her.”

“Keep your hands off her.”

I sucked in my breath at Paul’s tone. Low, serious and dripping with possessiveness. It made the blood pump even harder through my veins.

“Not my style, mate. But if that’s how you feel you might have to pry surfer boy’s hands off her first,” Greg replied lightly.

“Fuck off, Greg.”

I heard movement coming my way and I looked around in a panic. I’d just passed the bathrooms. I scurried back down the hallway as quietly as I could and pushed the door to the ladies open, hoping desperately Paul hadn’t seen me retreating. Once inside I rushed into a cubicle and collapsed against the back of the door.

Goddess?

Holy crap.

*

About five minutes later I emerged from the ladies’ bathroom. On the surface I looked fine. Typical Madeleine. Not a hair was out of place, but inside, I was shaken. To have Paul’s feelings articulated was intoxicating, but I was troubled too. Clearly he saw his age and situation in life as an obstacle to pursuing me. I’d long discounted the age difference and while the fact that he had children wasn’t ideal, it wasn’t a deal breaker either.

I made my way into the room, where I saw at least a hundred people dressed in business suits and professional attire. I surveyed the crowd. I immediately saw Paul’s tall frame towering above everyone. His eyes found mine and I did my best to smile at him, while the word goddess echoed in my mind.

He weaved his way toward me, those blue eyes never leaving mine. It unnerved me.

“You look lovely,” he said, before bending down to graze my cheek.

I cleared my throat, because it felt like it was full of dry ash. “Thank you.”

He placed an arm behind me and steered me toward the side of the room, where a stout, balding man stood drinking beer and laughing with a few other people.

“Madeleine, I want you to meet Greg, my business partner and co-owner of NTRtain Media.”

Greg had been right. Paul did have the looks. Greg barely came up to my shoulder, although to be fair he looked pretty fit for his height, like he played a lot of sports. His face was ruddy and flushed. I couldn’t tell if it was from the drink or if he always looked that way. Warm brown eyes studied me curiously as he reached over to shake my hand.

“Madeleine Spencer, I’ve been awaiting this pleasure. And it’s all mine, I see.”

I smiled despite myself. It could easily have sounded sleazy but his greeting was tempered with surprising charm.

“Good to meet you, Greg. It’s nice to put a face to the man who has the people skills in your business,” I said.

His eyes lit up in appreciation. “I see you’ve already got the measure of my business partner’s failings. You can come to me for staffing advice any time you need it, by the way,” he added with a hint of mischief.

“Greg,” Paul warned, but it was half-hearted.

“So Paul tells me you’ve developed the winning pitch,” Greg continued, ignoring Paul. “It’s on Thursday, right?”

“Yes, thankfully. If it were any further away I don’t think I could stand it,” I admitted.

Greg eyed Paul, a small smile playing on his lips. “You haven’t told her about our winning pre-pitch tradition, have you?”

“No.”

Greg scowled, then rolled his eyes. “He’s no fun until you get a few beers into him.” He turned to Paul. “Honestly, you’re mentoring the woman and leaving out the most practical advice.”

“Dare I ask?”

Paul’s eyes met mine with such a playful look, that I found I couldn’t tear my gaze from his. “He’s going to tell you anyway,” he said.

Greg sidled up to me, putting a casual arm around my waist. I noticed Paul watching us, but he appeared relaxed.

“You can’t go into a pitch tense,” Greg advised. “It’s bad form. So the evening before the pitch, you gather your team and give them a drink or two to loosen them up.”