as it was intriguing. The man was notorious for going to Temple for everything from help with his tie to advice on whether the next deal was worth the pursuit. Any assistant hired for the shipping magnate was of little use. Eventually, the position was phased out entirely.
“Hold still.” Temple slapped his forearm. “Unless you’d like to be choked, and I promise you, I can arrange it.” She tugged the silver tie threateningly. “So what were you talking to Nevil about?” She frowned as she focused on securing the knot.
“Development was supposed to be in charge of planning the lion’s share of the survey expedition for the new building site near the docks.”
“Hmph.” Temple’s hands slowed over the knot she was making in the tie. “I didn’t realize you’d already had a place in mind considering…” She dismissed the thought and continued with her task.
Mataeo’s long brows drew close. “Considering what? That I haven’t closed the deal yet?”
Temple merely shrugged.
“That’s why I didn’t tell you.”
She smiled, feeling the smoky heat of his mocha stare boring into her. She could tell by the strain of the tie around his neck that his temper was on the rise.
“It’s just that you’ve got some serious competition on this one.” Her hands stilled again. “Sanford Norman wants Manson Yates’s client list as badly as you do.”
“Hell, Temp, every exporter along the Eastern Seaboard wants Manson Yates’s client list. Sadly, many aren’t in a position to accept his conditions for sale.”
“And too bad for you Sanford Norman has his headquarters right here in good old Wilmington, N.C.” Once again, Temple resumed her work on the tie.
Mataeo leaned down a bit to look into Temple’s lovely coffee-brown face. “And that’s the only hitch standing in the way of my closing this thing—a pretty pitiful hitch if you ask me.”
Temple tapped his chin, instructing him to straighten. “From the reports I’ve read, that’s enough. Thank you, Jesus,” she whispered upon finishing with the tie. She knocked her fists against his broad chest to urge him out of the way.
Mataeo didn’t move. “Do you think Sanford Norman’s willing to set up new digs right on the dock to accommodate Manson Yates’s clients and treat them in the manner they’re accustomed to?”
Temple braced her hands along the desk, the natural arch of her brows rose as her suspicion set in. “I still don’t know how you managed to convince…anyone to part with property in that area.”
“Impressed?” Mataeo stood back and folded his arms across his chest. The glint in his rich chocolaty gaze dared her to deny that she was.
“Only if you close the deal.” Temple made a pretense at quickly straightening the knot in his tie. “Otherwise you’re just an idiot who paid too much for a piece of property he can’t use.”
“Why the hell do I keep you?” Mataeo went around his desk in search of his cell phone and keys. “You’re no good for my ego.”
“Which is considerable.” Temple toyed with the box pleats at the hem of her tan skirt. “Lucky for you, you’ve got enough volunteers around to…stroke it.”
Mataeo rose to his full six feet eight inches. “Funny.” He tucked the phone into the jacket of his gray three-piece.
“But true.” Temple didn’t look away from her pleats. “You only keep me around to tie your ties.”
“And a damn good job you do of it, too.” He went back to searching his desk. A scowl shadowed his face as he massaged a hand across the back of his neck. “Temp, have you seen—”
The jingle of keys caught his ears and Mataeo looked up to see them dangling from Temple’s fingers.
“I keep you around for everything that matters.” He shook his head and grimaced while voicing the confession. He leaned across the desk. “You know I can’t function without you.”
Temple laughed and brushed a playful slap to his flawless cheek. “You’d be just fine.”
“You’re wrong. I need you for everything that matters.” His stare didn’t waver. “Like this lunch.”
“Taeo…” She rolled her eyes. “Don’t start, not about this. You know how I feel about us taking on more clients right now.” She watched him with accusation lurking in her hazel eyes. “This is all about your greed and that damn win-at-all-costs competitive streak of yours.”
“That’s what business is all about, Temp.” He moved from behind the desk.
“That may be, but it’s getting more dramatic every day, and I’ve had enough.”
Mataeo’s glare harbored more concern than anger.
Temple shifted her gaze back to the hem of her skirt. Silently, she cursed her slipup as she noticed the uncertainty creeping onto Mataeo’s handsome face.
“I just prefer playing this one from the background, you know?”
Soothed by her fast clarification, Mataeo gave a slow nod.
Temple leaned over and tugged his jacket lapel as if to set it straight. “You should get going unless you want Sanford Norman entertaining Mr. Yates over drinks while they wait for you.”
“Right.” Mataeo grimaced and pushed himself from the desk. “I’ll see you later. You’re heading home, right?”
It wasn’t exactly a question. He knew his right arm/ best friend well enough to know her routine rarely changed unless he changed it.
He stopped just before the double doors to his office suite and turned to ply her with a crooked smile. “Last chance for lunch? My treat?”
Temple blew him a kiss. “Good luck.”
North Shipping may have been one of the many exporting businesses along the Eastern Seaboard but few compared to the savvy of its owner and the success he’d garnered in the field. Much of that had to do with the crew of employees Mataeo surrounded himself with. Everyone was at the top of their game from the entry-level shipping clerks to the man’s righthand/right arm, Temple Grahame.
The fact that they were friends—the best of friends, for many years—was an added perk in an already powerful relationship. Taeo and Temp, as they were known by most of their business associates, seemed to complement each other in every situation, be it professional or personal.
Of course, everyone speculated that they were more than friends. This was no surprise considering Mataeo North was both idolized and envied by most men he knew. This fact had as much to do with his business prowess as it had to do with his sexual conquests.
With that in mind, a woman like Temple Grahame wouldn’t spend her days in his sights and remain unnoticed for long. Especially when her looks—as well as her personality—were enough to literally stop a man. With her wide, hazel stare and soft hypnotic voice, Temple struck most as delicate, understated and
