“Then what’s the issue?” I ask because I know there is one. I take a seat as instructed, setting my purse and briefcase on the floor at my feet.
“Didn’t your father explain about blondes?”
My eyebrows crawl up my brow. “That was serious?” Honestly, I didn’t give it much attention, and it hadn’t crossed my mind since my father mentioned it.
“Yes.”
I drill her with a look. “Are you telling me Drew Manning would refuse the perfect candidate for a job because she has blonde hair?”
“No. I?—”
“Then what’s the problem? As VP of marketing, surely, this hire is ultimately your call?” Father made out like this presentation was only a formality.
“It is, but he has final approval. Rebranding the organization is a big deal. This project will take months to conclude and it requires working closely with our internal team. Your father made it clear he wants you working from our offices, which means Drew will see you every day, and that’s where the problem lies.”
“What does he have against blondes?”
“I’m not quite sure, but he’s never seen with blondes, and any time we hire models for official photoshoots, his instructions are alwaysno blondes.”
What is it with men and their no blondes rules? Is this a Boston thing? Beast had that listed on his requirements. Truth be told, that clause made me sign the agreement. Deny me something, and I’ll always challenge you. We meet in the dark, and we’ve agreed on complete anonymity, so it’s not like he’ll ever find out I broke one of his terms.
For a fleeting moment, I wonder if Beast and Manning are one and the same, but I dismiss the thought as quickly. That would be too coincidental, and I don’t believe in coincidences. In a city the size of Boston, it’s not inconceivable there are two men with aversions to blonde-haired women.
“Then I guess I’ll just have to blow him away with my intelligence and charm so he overlooks the fact I’m a blonde.”
“At this point, it’s our only play.” She rubs at her temples, and I wonder what my father is holding over her to force her to do his bidding.
“I’m good at what I do, Miss Markham, and I want this job on its own merit not just because my father wants me here.”
“You wouldn’t be here unless you were. I have worked tirelessly to climb the career ladder at Manning Motors, and no amount of blackmail would make me fuck up at the office.” She leans back in her seat and studies me again. “I have researched your work and spoken to all your previous clients. They speak incredibly highly of you and your team.”
“That is good to hear. I pride myself on being the best, and I dedicate one hundred and fifty percent to every project. I won’t be slacking on this project. I’ll give it my all.”
“Good. I expect nothing less.” She glances at the expensive watch on her slim wrist and stands. “It’s time.”
I rise to my feet and grab my things before following her out of her office, along a wide corridor, and around the corner to a row of meeting rooms. She stops in front of mahogany double doors and turns to look at me. “Mr. Manning is incredibly smart, and he doesn’t suffer fools. He can sniff out imposters in no time. Answer honestly. While you need to impress him, it’s okay to admit vulnerability. It’s far better than telling a lie.”
I nod as I force the butterflies swooping into my chest to take a hike.
I’ve got this.
There is no other outcome that is acceptable.
Lifting my head, I keep my back straight and my smile gracious as Belinda knocks on the door, and a man with a deep voice tells us to come in. Two men and one young woman are seated on one side of the long glossy black table with their backs to the impressive floor-to-ceiling window that highlights the view of downtown Rydeville in the near distance. Manning Motors relocated from the original HQ on the outskirts a few years ago when their growth necessitated a larger premises.
“Right on time as usual, Belinda,” the older man with the salt-and-pepper hair says, wearing a smile as he gets up and walks toward us. “You must be Athena Lewis,” he says, extending his arm toward me.
I shake his hand firmly, maintaining eye contact as I smile all while I feel Manning’s eyes boring a hole in the side of my head. “I am. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Grant. Thank you for the opportunity to present to you all today.”
“Let me introduce you to our CEO,” the chief marketing officer says, letting my hand go.
I draw in a subtle breath as Drew Manning climbs to his feet and walks toward us. His presence instantly dominates the room, and it’s like the air particles separate to let him pass through. Dark energy fills the space, and it’s impossible to look away. His eyes are glued to me as he approaches, his intense inspection causing all the fine hairs on the back of my neck to lift. The air is thick with tension as he stops a couple feet in front of me.
He stares at me, his gaze darting from my eyes to my hair, and a slight frown mars his smooth brow.
Up close, he is completely captivating in a way few men are. The pictures I have seen of him online and in the file Father gave me do not do him justice. Gone is the almost preppy look he sported post college when he first took up the mantle at his family business. Now, he looks like the quintessential bad boy with his artfully messy dark hair streaked with blond, the facial hair lining his chin and sculpted jawline, the bulging muscles barely contained behind his designer black suit, and glimpses of ink crawling up one side of his neck and sneaking out from under the sleeves of his shirt. But it’s the intensity of his heated stare and the wickedly dark promise behind those sultry brown eyes that cements it.
Lust coils low in my belly the longer he stares at me without saying anything, and I wonder what it would be like to be the sole focus of his attention. I bet he’s obsessive when he wants something and he doesn’t back down until he gets it.
