Entirely masculine with a body meant for sin.
A deep sigh left my throat. After the perfect man I’d envisioned, my pussy was throbbing, a single bead of perspiration trickling ever so slowly down my cheek.
Not a good look for a CEO.
The idea of beating my head against a wall was becoming more and more attractive.
Why was owning a business always frustrating and usually abysmal? Maybe business owners who actually made money would disagree. They were successful, spending their days basking in the Miami sun by their private swimming pool while watching their stock numbers rise. They were the perfect representation of the clients who sometimes-but-lately-not-often-enough paid the bills.
I hated admitting defeat, but I was exhausted, overwrought, and overwhelmed. If something didn’t give soon, I’d be forced to lose my dream. Then what? Go crawling back to Daddy? Over my dead body.
I stared at the neon sign on the wall opposite my desk. The day I’d opened the doors to Perfect Pairing, I’d been so proud, standing back and basking in the vivid red glow. Now I rarely turned it on. Granted, for almost a year I’d been successful, beyond my wildest dreams. The concept was fresh and the rich and famous in Miami and all of Florida had flocked to my door.
Well, maybe not flocked, but I’d spent eighty hour weeks for almost six months and I’d enjoyed every moment of sweating my ass off. Now for some reason, the client list has shrunk, phones barely ringing.
At this rate, I’d be bankrupt. How was I supposed to confide something so horrible to my employees? I loved each and every one of them like family.
The knock on the door used to bring excitement. Now I experienced drudgery, almost as if preparing for a root canal with no Novocain. Maybe a bill collector was lurking in the halls. I could almost hear his maniacal laughter.
When Amelia popped her head past my door without the rest of her body, I knew it was bad news. I could read my office manager and best friend like the latest Lucy Score rom-com.
“Got a second, boss?” At least she slipped further inside, which meant the landlord hadn’t arrived telling everyone to get out and that he was about to padlock the doors.
“Time I have plenty of. What’s up?” I glared at my cup of coffee, which was undoubtedly cold even though I’d had nothing critical to do that morning other than suffer while going over the latest financials.
And trying to talk to my brother. Another sore subject that always put me in a bad mood.
“Don’t look so glum, master of finding the perfect fit.”
“That’s mistress and very funny. Lately, I can’t seem to find matching shoes let alone a match made in heaven.”
She slipped into the only other decent purchase I’d made for myself: a plush chair for my illustrious guests to melt in while penning a check or contacting their accountant to wire me money.
“I know things are tough, but we’ve been through worse.”
She was wrong. We hadn’t.
“We did get an extension on Maria and Sanchez at the car show. The client loves them and the fact they appear like the perfect couple is evidently drawing a crowd.” Her excitement was as plastic as the smiles I’d learned to plaster on my face.
Car shows. How many Ferraris, Lamborghinis, Bugattis, and Koenigsegg Trevitas could one city house? I’d learned every expensive, nonsensical sports car given the number of clients who were involved with car shows for the rich and richer.
“That’s good to hear.”
“And Jameson is booked with the haunted mansion gig in a couple months. He’s looking forward to it.”
I resisted glaring at her. Granted, without Amelia’s creativity, the doors would have been shut a month before, but hiring someone to greet guests at the door of a truly haunted house while singing some dark musical was far from where I’d started. The dream of influential clients hiring models and actors for their pricey marketing gigs had seemed exciting. Now it was just run of the mill.
“Okay, I’ll take the win. Why the mischievous look on your face?”
Amelia sat forward. “Because we could have a new client.”
“Okay. What is it this time? Hire one of our models to pose on an elephant’s back?” To say I was disgruntled was far too mild.
“No, goofy, but not a bad idea.” She laughed seeing my face. “I had an inquiry late yesterday. Just an email and the questions were brief. You know the drill. How much do we charge? What kind of services do we supply? Can we handle a long-term assignment? That kind of thing. I didn’t think anything of it untilI walked into a barrage of questions this morning. Second email. He all but demanded you clear your schedule today to meet with him. I was very polite in my response and answered every question.”
“What did you tell him?”
“That you were extremely busy and would need to make an appointment. Not wanting to sound too eager, I told him the wait would be at least three weeks.”
