waited for Clive’s nod, a semblance of politeness remaining despite her immediate desire to walk very quickly away from the station and never return, then she turned on her heel and practically ran out the door.
* * *
By the time Elle got back to her office, she was ready to spit nails. Or kill Ahmed Clark with her bare hands. On the drive from the radio station, she’d tried to calm down, but it didn’t work. Every time she remembered the things the man had said to her on the air, for all of Atlanta to hear, she wanted to scream.
With a clenched jaw, she pushed open the door that led to a row of small ground-floor offices in a plain beige brick building in Kirkwood, not far from her house. The white door rattled as it settled in its frame, and she stood with her back against it, breathing evenly and trying to get her thoughts, anger and embarrassment to settle.
Despite their office building’s plain exterior, or maybe because of it, she and her business partner had decided to make their offices anything but. The hardwood floors were gleaming oak, while the walls shimmered from the sumptuous jade green silk wallpaper she and Shaye had picked out together. The wallpaper was as detailed as a painting. On it, a thick and leafless tree spread across all four walls. One branch held a brilliantly colored peacock hovering protectively over his peahen. A graceful and soft peach-colored sofa sat against the back wall of their reception area, and a coffee table with a few artfully scattered magazines waited for idle hands. It was meant to be a very welcoming and subtly sensual space.
Elle inhaled deeply and exhaled, her eyes tracing the plain brushstrokes on the wallpaper that made up the gray of the peahen and the contentment in her eyes while she lay beneath the wing of her beautiful mate. The sight of it, of love as Elle imagined it, usually calmed her. But not today.
“Shaye!”
She shouted her business partner’s name and pushed herself off the door, starting toward her own office then nearly colliding with Shaye when she came barreling around the corner. Thick curls spilled over her shoulders and surrounded a face that easily belonged on the cover of a fashion magazine. As usual, Shaye was gorgeous in her club-girl chic. Today’s outfit was a flesh-colored and skintight dress that showed off every voluptuous curve. She wore the royal blue Jimmy Choo heels—a lucky thrift-store find—Elle had given her for thirtieth birthday two years before.
“No need to yell,” Shaye said with a roll of her eyes. “I heard you from all the way in my office. The sound of your voice could shatter our champagne glasses. Chill, mama. That stuff was expensive.”
Shaye was the only one who could talk to Elle like that. Growing up mostly together in the foster care system with no one to care for but each other made the two of them even closer than siblings.
“Better the glasses than that damn man...” Elle made a sound of frustration. “Did you listen to the radio spot?”
Shaye snickered. “As if I’d miss it.”
When Elle kept going toward her own office, Shaye fell in step, her longer legs easily keeping up with Elle’s furious pace.
“The whole thing was pretty hilarious,” Shaye continued. “Even though you were obviously pissed.”
“He made me come off like some idiotic child, like I don’t know anything about the real world and the crappy things in it.”
Elle stepped into her office and dropped into the small love seat under the window while Shaye perched on the corner of her desk, ankles crossed and smiling. Elle wanted to shove her partner off the desk and onto her ass.
“Calm down, sweetie,” Shaye said. “Ahmed was just doing that for a laugh and to make the whole advertising give-and-take seem more interesting. He didn’t mean anything by it.”
“You weren’t there. He meant every damn word—”
The sound of her desktop phone ringing cut Elle off. “Who is that?” she asked, too irritated to bother getting up to look herself.
Shaye peeked over at the phone’s display. “It looks like the radio station.”
“Jesus... What now? They want to humiliate me some more today?” Elle clambered to her feet and answered the phone, putting it on speaker so Shaye could hear, too. She sat down behind the desk. “Romance Perfected. Elle Marshall speaking.”
“Elle, long time no chat!” Clive Ramirez’s booming voice rang through her office, and Elle exchanged a pained look with Shaye. “I wanted to tell you the latest developments myself.”
“What, nobody claimed our prize?”
“Just the opposite, my dear girl! Our phones rang off the hook even after we had a winner. They loved you and Ahmed together.”
Elle rolled her eyes. Those people must love a train wreck, because that’s all that was. “That’s good, I suppose. If the business gets some of that love, too.” She grabbed a pen and notebook. “So, who won the prize? I’ll reach out to them today.”
“Well, an interesting thing. The woman who won the prize gave it back to you.”
“What?” Elle exchanged another look with Shaye as her stomach sank. They paid all that money for the radio ad for nothing? “She doesn’t even want to use us for free?” Shaye looked just as horrified as Elle felt.
“No, no. It’s not that.” Clive’s voice rose in a way that did not put Elle’s mind at ease. “Everyone who called in loves your business idea. This woman included. But she wants you to use the service yourself. For a date with Ahmed.”
Elle blinked at the phone, sure she wasn’t hearing Clive correctly. “You’re joking.”
“Nope!” He sounded far too happy with that one word. “I think it’s a brilliant idea that has the potential to work out even better for your business and for the station, of course.” When Elle didn’t say anything, Clive made a low sound of disappointment, obviously tempering his excitement for Elle’s benefit. “Listen, I can tell you’re reluctant, so why don’t I give you the rest of the day to think about it?” Elle glanced at her watch and saw that it was only a few minutes past noon. “Keep in mind how much free publicity this will be for your business,” Clive said. “And, to sweeten the deal, I’ll even give you back half of the fee you paid for the radio spot.”
Shaye started to make frantic motions at Elle from her perch on the corner of Elle’s desk. “Tell him you’ll do it,” she whispered, waving her hands to get Elle’s attention, as if Elle could ignore her. “Just say yes.” Shaye mouthed the words over and over, looking like a fish trying to breathe fresh air.
Elle swiveled in her chair, turning her back to her business partner. “Thank you for the opportunity, Clive. I’ll think about it and get back to you.”
“I understand. Call me back before five to let me know.” He gave her his direct number before hanging up.
“Are you crazy?” Shaye practically shrieked once the call was disconnected. She jumped up from the desk, curls and breasts swaying, hands on her hips. “Call him back right now and tell him you’ll do it.”
“Are you serious right now?” Elle refused to make herself a target for Ahmed Clark’s bitterness and cynicism again. Once was enough.
“Oh,
