“I’ve seen her food, and it’s usually leftovers from restaurants.”
“Ah. That’d be appealing to a cash-strapped man.” I click through my notes and find what I’m looking for. “This one about stealing ideas. If it’s Lindsay, what do you suppose happened there? I asked everyone including assistants and support person about that. They say they’ve never had any ideas stolen.”
“They could be lying.”
“True. But why would they? It’s their chance to vent.”
“You’re a ‘consultant,’” he says with air quotes, “and nobody knows what you’re really doing here.”
“I think whoever wrote this had an idea stolen or they perceived their idea was stolen by another member of the management team.” I look up at him. His right arm is reaching down to his side, no doubt petting Sky. “Let’s back up,” I say absently. “If Clive started to dislike you about a year ago, and we think Lindsay has been poisoning him against you, we should assume you’re the idea stealer.”
Ben gasps and shakes his head, looking affronted. “No.”
I raise my hand and shake my head. “I don’t think so either, but maybeshedoes. Think back. What were you working on at that time?”
He leans back in his seat. When he runs one hand through his hair, I want to crawl into his lap and do that myself. He’s got great hair.
“Let me think.” Sitting up, he taps away at his computer keyboard. “I’m looking at my calendar from around that time.” It takes him a few minutes, but when he stops typing, he breathes, “Shit.”
“What?” I stand and walk to the side of his desk, watching out for Sky’s crate.
“How could I be so dense?” he mutters. “We were working on the rebranding.”
“Rebranding? For MFH?”
“Yeah. It was a huge undertaking. Silvia, Lindsay, and I were the leads.”
“Makes sense. What do you think happened?” I pause. “I mean, assuming Lindsay’s our author, what happened?”
Ben stands and steps around Sky’s crate, heading straight for me. For a second, I think he’s going to do something—hug me, something. But I’m wrong. Of course I’m wrong. Giving me a sweet smile, he says, “Excuse me.” He points to his filing cabinet. “Let me get the files.”
“Oh. Sorry.” My big bottom’s in the way.
He touches my arm, “Don’t move. Just let me grab this.”
Embarrassed, I step back over to the chair, but I don’t sit because I want to be able to see what he’s looking at in his files. While his back is to me, I quickly glimpse his backside. He’s taken off his suit jacket, leaving him in gray slacks and a blue dress shirt. He’s so damn good-looking. When my eyes hit his butt, I quickly look away. He’s got a great ass. It looks firm and round. I mean, if I linger there too long, I’m afraid my hand is just going to find its way there, and that’d be wrong.Sowrong.
“Here.” He says it so suddenly I jump.
Instead of going back to his seat, he moves closer to me. Placing the file on his desk, he opens it and begins leafing through the papers. “I remember this being a big pain in the ass. Graham hated every idea we had.” He’s quiet for several more minutes as he reads the file. “Here.” He points to a notation on one of his handwritten pages. “This is what we ended up with and….” He runs a hand through his hair again. “She’s right.”
“Who’s right?”
“Lindsay.” He sighs. “I didn’t steal her idea, but I’m the one who presented the winning idea to Graham over dinner. Just the two of us.”
I frown. “You didn’t tell him it was Lindsay’s idea?”
“No.” He shakes his head. “While the concept was hers, we all worked on it to get it ready for Graham. But that was wrong. I can see that now. She should have gotten credit for it. Graham made a big deal about it at our monthly meeting, mentioning my name over the other two members of the team.” He rubs both hands over his face. “God, I’m an asshole.”
I place my hand on his shoulder and rub up and down a little, doing what I can to ease his guilt. “It happens all the time, Ben.” Not that it’s a good thing, but we’re all likely to accept credit if it’s given to us, especially in front of a group. It’s human nature. And honestly, women get slighted far more often than men. They just do.
He looks down at me, and our eyes meet. “How can I make this right?”
“I’m not sure you can at this point, but let me think about it.” Suddenly, I laugh. It’s a nervous one and not at all funny.
“What?” A confused expression slides across Ben’s face, causing his brows to furrow. Why is that adorable?
“That poor woman.” My laughs turn into hysterical giggles.
