Fortune's Perfect Match. Allison Leigh

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toward the closest one. “Slow day today, though. Half the fleet is in. Usually they’re all out this time of day.”

      Surprised, she looked over the planes again. “Where do the rest of them go?”

      His eyes glinted with amusement, and she felt that strange trip inside her chest again. “They all fit,” he assured. “Close as sardines, but they fit.”

      “I wouldn’t want to have to park one,” she admitted, eyeing the wingspan of the plane.

      “Just takes some muscle and some careful attention. We’ve also got some planes outside on tie-downs.” He finally stopped walking and leaned against the long tail of a white plane with a propeller on its nose. “Have you ever been up in a small plane?”

      She eyed the airplane behind him. He was as tall as the top of the wing. “Depends on your definition of small.” There’d been plenty of times she’d flown on a private jet for business, but it had still been a jet. Multiple engines and all. “That thing there practically looks like a toy.”

      “Pretty expensive toy.” He glanced at the plane and she couldn’t help but see the distinct fondness in his expression.

      “You look at it like she’s a beautiful woman.”

      “Well.” He ran his palm along the edge the wing. His gaze, though, didn’t move from her face. “She does give plenty of pleasure.”

      Even though she was the one to bring it up, she felt her face turn warm. And there was no point in denying it. He could see her blush just as easily as she could feel it and a faint smile flirted around the corners of his lips.

      It wasn’t a full-on smile, but just then it seemed wholly worth the price of her silly blush.

      “All right, then.” She clapped her hands together. “Maybe it’s time we go to your office and we look at the marketing materials. If you want to see the mock-up I did, I can pull that up for you, as well.”

      His head dipped slightly in agreement. He pushed away from the plane. “That’s what you’re here for.”

      Yes. That was what she was there for. Help out with some advertising tips and get back to her own priorities. All she needed to do was keep herself as focused as she’d always been.

      Then Max touched her arm, guiding her away from the plane.

      She quickened her step toward the hangar door. But she couldn’t walk fast enough to outrun the shivers flitting down her spine.

       Chapter Two

      “I’m serious,” Emily insisted, several hours later. “There’s no earthly reason why you can’t learn this design program if you want to.”

      They’d started out at the conference table in Tanner’s office, but had ended up in Max’s closet-size office where she was hunched on a little stool next to his chair beside his desk. Even though his office was cramped, the computer humming on the desk in front of them was state-of-the-art.

      Max just shook his head, though. Despite what she’d found to be an incredibly creative mind as they’d brain-stormed various advertising themes and she’d plugged some of the ideas into the sample website, now he just seemed adamant that he couldn’t also learn the graphics program that she, herself, personally favored. “Tanner’s always had his brochures and stuff designed by a company that specializes in that sort of thing.”

      Feeling frustrated, Emily pushed her fingers through her hair, getting caught in her ponytail. She absently tugged on the band until it slid free. “That doesn’t mean they have to be,” she countered. She was focused on the computer screen where she’d been able to pull up her own computer at FortuneSouth over the internet, so she could show him some examples of the projects her department worked on.

      She leaned closer to tap the oversize monitor screen. “This is a full-color brochure that we did a few months ago for a special corporate promotion we offered to one of Atlanta’s larger construction firms. We wanted it specifically targeted to their employees. So we did a small print run that we easily handled in-house.” She reached for the computer mouse, unintentionally brushing her hand against his before he quickly moved it away.

      Ignoring that, as well as the way her hand tingled, she clicked a few times. Opened a second project so both were displayed. “Same exact brochure layout used again last week with redesigned messaging for a corporate law firm in Boston. Small print run again, minimal time spent revising the variables.”

      Max was leaning back in his chair. He’d folded his arms across his chest. “I get the advantage of it,” he said. His voice was flat. “I just don’t know if it’s something I’m going to be able to master. I’m taking care of other stuff around here, too, that I can’t ignore. And if Tanner goes for all those website ideas of yours, I’m gonna be updating that every time I turn around, too.”

      “We can minimize the effort of updating,” she assured. “And I admit there are entire courses designed around learning this graphics software.” She scraped her hair back and pushed it through the band. “But I could teach you the basics.”

      His lips twisted. “You got the next six months available?”

      “Don’t be so negative,” she chided. “It’ll take a few afternoons. It doesn’t have to take you away, entirely, from your other duties. I’ve got the time if you do.”

      “Tanner’s going to owe you big.”

      She sat up, stretching her back. It felt like she’d been hunched over his desk, sitting on that little stool, for hours. But as fond as she had become of Tanner, she knew she hadn’t made the offer because of him.

      That offer came because of Max, himself, and she wasn’t going to lie to herself by pretending otherwise.

      “Advertising’s my business. I’m actually good at it,” she said. “I enjoy it. But I usually end up spending most of my time sitting in meetings, directing everyone else’s projects while they get to do the fun stuff.”

      His eyebrows shot up. “This is fun?”

      She couldn’t help but grin. She had enjoyed coming up with the website as a surprise for Tanner. But she focused on Max. “Don’t pretend you don’t have a creative bone in your body.” She waved at the notes covering his desk. They contained just as many scribbles as hers. “You’re able to focus on the essentials, but not get your thinking locked into a box. Not everyone can do that, you know.”

      Instead of smiling himself, though, he compressed his lips. He shifted and his desk chair gave a soft squeak while his gaze focused again on the computer screen. “Are you hungry?”

      She blinked. “What?”

      “I should’ve closed up shop two hours ago. It’s supper time.”

      “Oh.” Of course. Her gaze flew guiltily to the small window that was all his office possessed. The sky was nearly dark. “I’m sorry. I got caught up in what we were doing.” She quickly pushed off the stool and carried it from behind his desk. He’d gotten it from the break room just down the hallway. “Of course you want to be done.” How many times had her assistant, Samantha, back at

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