with Richard on the golf course, apparently the PR man had decided to move on to bigger, more powerful prey. It was a smart choice. Richard was certainly a momma’s boy. If Rose preferred Peter over Victoria, the Rutherford Securities contract would go to him.
Victoria didn’t miss a beat and positioned herself next to Richard. “Is it rude to talk about business before dinner?”
“Not if that’s what you want to do,” he said graciously. Bracketed between his wife and the stunning Victoria, he seemed, in fact, more than pleased. He directed a wink at Calla. “I assume we can count on your discretion about our developing products and strategies.”
“I’m a reporter at heart,” she said in her twanging Texas accent. “I know how to protect my sources.”
With three women focused on him, and Jared as a standby to impress, Richard gave a description of his new safe. The words state-of-the-art were used five times and breakthrough technology no less than three. “The digital control panel can be configured for your own four-digit code, voice print or, on the superior model, a retina scan. It’s breakthrough technology.”
Okay, four.
“Fascinating,” Victoria said, looking for all the world as if she believed it.
“Interesting” was Calla’s neutral response, just before she shot her friend a questioning look and took a sip of champagne.
Ruthie smiled indulgently at her husband. “Isn’t he clever?”
Actually, a team of engineers and computer techs were clever.
Twenty years ago.
The whole fawning business turned Jared’s stomach. Because one of the fawners was the woman he wanted? Probably.
But not completely.
Jared’s conscience warned him to sip his whiskey and say nothing. But he couldn’t keep his reservations to himself. Victoria would probably wind up promoting this flawed product. “Don’t many governments, including our own, already use codes with much higher numbers than four, plus voice prints and retina scans for access to sensitive rooms and data?”
“Perhaps,” Richard admitted. “Not that they’re willing to share the technology behind their developments. The area of personal security is largely ignored for higher purposes. It’s time we take back control of our own lives and valuables. My safe will allow the common man to dictate his own destiny.”
Why would he need a PR firm? It seemed obvious Richard could orchestrate his own publicity just fine.
“I wasn’t aware of your interest in security, Jared,” Richard added with a smug smile. “You know something about codes, voice prints and retina scans?”
“Sure. I’ve watched a spy movie in the last decade.”
Victoria scowled; Calla covered up a laugh with a cough.
“Fiction,” Ruthie reminded him. “Who takes that seriously?”
“People don’t trust banks. Or the government.” Richard held tight to his glass, his annoyance obvious by his white-knuckled grip. “We’re giving them another option.”
“I think it’s a brilliant idea for the times,” Victoria said, her gaze shifting to Jared’s long enough to deliver a warning glare. Richard, naturally, got a dazzling smile. “It’ll be the next big thing. Tell him about the ability to change the code remotely with a mobile device.”
“If the security is compromised for any reason,” Richard began, “an alarm will sound on the mobile device you choose, allowing you to either change your code or lock down the safe.”
“Compromising the security of a safe involves opening the door,” Jared pointed out. “By the time you punch in the new code, the thief’s already run off with your valuables.”
Their host looked smug. “The alarm begins with the first incorrect number pressed on the keypad.”
“What if the safe owner presses the wrong number?” he asked.
“Then obviously he or she will ignore the warning alarm,” Richard said easily.
“Plus the code’s only four numbers,” Jared reminded him. “By the time you get the signal and reconfigure—even if you’re holding your precious mobile device next to your ear at the time—the thief’s already inside.”
“It works,” Richard insisted. “I’ve seen it.”
Victoria laid her hand on his shoulder. “Of course it does.”
The woman who had vibrated at Jared’s touch, whose lips had moaned for his kiss mere minutes ago, was focused totally on Richard. The contract. Winning.
Maybe he’d been kidding himself about her response, about the need they shared. “Sorry.” He gave his host a curt nod. The security might work, and perhaps Richard was explaining the technology wrong—not surprising, actually. “My bad. I need some air. I’ll see all of you at dinner.”
Jared strode down the hall, through the kitchen and out the back door. If Victoria wanted to play Richard’s game, she was welcome to it. He wanted a different kind of adventure.
DINNER WAS DELICIOUS. If only the conversation surrounding the meal could measure up.
Victoria needed a much sharper knife than the sterling silver one beside her to cut the underlying tension.
Richard maintained his role as charming host, Ruthie relaxed her criticism of her mother-in-law and Rose soaked up everyone’s praise. But they also tiptoed around the obvious minefield of Victoria and Peter being office rivals and fighting for the same contract—the one controlled by the charming host.
Plus, Victoria could practically see waves of resentment rolling off Jared, like a tsunami destined specifically for her.
Getting the safe to work was the engineers’ problem. She just had to convince people to buy the damn thing. And why Jared cared a whit about quality control at Rutherford Securities, she had no idea. He and Richard seemed determined to be at odds with each other.
She shouldn’t be surprised. In her experience, different types often disagreed.
Richard was upper-crust Southampton; Jared was humble Western cowboy.
And why the latter suddenly had such great appeal, she had no idea. Though, as much as she loved her job, she had to admit that lately she’d found unexpected pleasure in attending her family’s charity events, reminding her that some people were still genuinely surprised by kindness. Victoria spent most of her waking hours in boardrooms. It was the only life she knew. But seeing her hard work benefit somebody besides her financial advisor and her own ego was refreshing.
Sal Colombo, Rose’s gentleman friend, was charming, affluent and genuine. Unlike the men she’d dated, success didn’t always translate to an overblown ego. In her fierce drive to the top, she’d somehow forgotten that.
“The pork is excellent,” David Greggory, Sal’s personal assistant, said, bringing Victoria back to the dinner conversation. “I wonder what spices
