Anyone could spot the testosterone—it’s freaking everywhere. In fact, Lilla and I are the only women here. Tonight is a team-only function, and according to Bill, wives and girlfriends don’t arrive until tomorrow. I pause just inside the doorway and stare at all of the huge men walking around with hors d'oeuvres in one hand and a beer or mixed drink in the other.
“The food seems to have been delivered properly,” I say.
“Yeah, thank God,” said Lilla. “Bill might have had my head on that one. You know how he is.”
“Ladies, how are you?” Bill comes up behind us and puts a hand on my shoulder.
I wrestle myself free and turn to greet him with my feigned politeness but really saying “keep your distance” smile.
“Hi, Bill. How’s it going here?” I say.
Bill’s stylish gray hair is perfectly manicured, his always-shifty eyes are bright, and he’s sporting yet another pair of brand-new shiny black shoes, which look like they couldn’t stand to have a speck of dirt on them.
“Great.” He gives me the once-over and whistles. “Still don’t understand why you never tried modeling. Could have made a killing with those legs.”
“Because my legs are here to get me from point A to point B,” I say. “Not to give anyone a peep show.”
“Modeling is not porn,” Bill says in a stern voice.
“Well, I’m nobody’s pretty face. Or pretty legs,” I add as Bill smirks.
“I’m just saying you could play up your sex appeal with Hal Cotton, the Cougars’ owner. We need the account, and he wants to sign us. Sometimes it just takes a little push.”
I glare at him. “We need an account. We should never need this one if landing the account means me using anything other than my brain.”
“I just meant it could be a mutual good thing. A win-win.”
“I don’t think owners like win-win situations. They prefer win.”
I turn back to Lilla, but she’s no longer next to me. I scan the room and spot her talking to…shit. She’s already found Dylan Wild. His back is to me, but that just gives me a better view of his ass, which is…really hot. Not to mention his broad shoulders, which fill out his dress shirt perfectly. His jet black hair is short but styled, and he raises his hand at something Lilla said. The gesture causes her to bend over in convulsive giggles.
I wonder how long before she pulls out a condom and propositions him. Thank God we have separate hotel rooms.
“You seem especially testy this trip, Ms. Gordon,” Bill says.
I force my attention back to him.
“Is it the breakup you had recently?”
“I’m fine. The breakup will not affect my job performance I can assure you.”
“Is everything else all right?”
I exhale. “If you must know, I’m from Arizona. Tucson, in fact. And things didn’t work out so well for me in the parents’ department. So I didn’t ever plan to come back here.”
“Well, happy homecoming,” he growls. “Get your mind in the game. Because we need this account, you hear me? And I won’t have my top assistant screwing it up. Or else you can forget about that promotion I know you want so badly.”
My hands go ice cold.
He wouldn’t. Would he? Of course he would. It’s Bill, the man we call Mr. No-Heart.
“Let’s go, and I’ll introduce you around.” Bill beckons me to follow him.
I smile faintly and give him the thumbs-up as I trail along behind.
He goes straight for Lilla and Dylan. I stay slightly behind Bill with my eyes trained on the carpet. If Dylan Wild thinks he’s going to get another flailing female fan out of me, then he’s sorely mistaken.
Bill’s already talking to him. I can hear a buzzing over my head as I concentrate on the floor in front of me.
