“That’s one thing I liked about you when I interviewed you, Lily. You’re confident in your skills.”
“What was it you didn’t like about me, Mr. Forrester? Because as you and I both know, you hired Synergy to represent your company, not me.”
“I make it a practice not to hire women under a certain age. Particularly if they’re attractive.”
She felt her mouth fall open in shock, and she knew she looked like some sort of gasping guppy, but there was nothing she could do combat it. “That’s sexist.”
“Maybe. But I haven’t had to deal with unwanted affections from my male personal assistant, unlike my previous PA, who fell hopelessly in love with me.”
“Maybe you were imagining things. Or maybe you encouraged her.” Privately, she had to admit that Gage was an attractive man, but that didn’t mean that every woman under a certain age was immediately going to fall in love at first sight with him. Yet he probably believed it. Power did that to people, men especially. They started thinking of everyone as their property, like they were entitled to the slavish devotion of everyone around them.
Some men didn’t even need wealth. They just needed someone weaker than they were.
She shook off the memories that were creeping in.
“I wasn’t imagining it, trust me. And I never encouraged her,” Gage said. “I was never interested in her. Business is business, sex is sex.”
“Never the twain shall meet?”
“Exactly. To compound the matter, when I fired her she made a huge scene.”
“Why did you fire her?”
One dark eyebrow shot up. “I came into the office one morning to find her perched naked on my desk in a pose that would make a centerfold blush.”
Lily’s mouth dropped open. “Are you serious?”
“Unfortunately, yes. But since then, I haven’t hired women to work closely with me, and since then, I haven’t had any other issues.” He regarded her closely. “You aren’t engaged or expecting a baby anytime soon, are you?”
She almost laughed. “No worries there, Mr. Forrester. I have no plans for wedding or baby in the near, or distant, future. My career is my focus.”
“I’ve heard that said by more than one woman, more than once. But then the woman meets a man who makes her hear wedding bells, and I end up having wasted my time training someone who never intended to stay on with the company.”
“If I ever hear wedding bells, Mr. Forrester, you have my guarantee that I will run in the opposite direction.”
“Good.”
“I still think you’re sexist. Assuming that just because a woman is a … a woman … she’s going to fall madly in love with you the moment she looks into your eyes, or that the moment she gets a job she’s going to run off and get married and abandon everything she’s worked for.”
“I’m not sexist. It’s called covering your bases. I don’t make the same mistake twice. But I’ve seen the press releases you’ve prepared for Campbell. I’ve also watched his stocks go up.”
“Yours have been going up, too,” she added.
“That may be, but his were on their way down. The only thing that’s changed is his hiring you.”
She held a hand out, pretending to examine her merlot-colored nails, hoping he didn’t notice the slight tremor in her fingers. “So, now you want me to go back on my contract with Mr. Campbell? It would have to be a pretty sweet offer, Mr. Forrester.”
“It is.” He named a figure that made her heart slam into her ribs.
She’d been working so hard, struggling to keep things going with her small public relations firm for so long the thought of all that money made her feel light-headed.
And money was only part of it. There was the notoriety, good and bad, that would come from working for Forrestation. Gage had a reputation as being a bit of a rogue, which was both appealing and frightening to investors. He took risks, sometimes at the expense of popularity, and they paid off.
Some of his larger building projects had been unpopular with a vocal minority, and while the hotel properties had been resounding successes once completed, he’d had protestors lining the streets in front of his San Diego office building on more than one occasion. A lot of the protests were simply against any new building being built, but some of the issues had seemed understandable to Lily.
As controversial as Gage might be, he was a billionaire for a reason. And even if, sometimes, she had sympathized with the protesters, she couldn’t argue with the numbers.
“Say I was interested,” she said, feigning a lot more absorption in her manicure than she felt. “There’s an early termination fee on my contract with Mr. Campbell.”
“I’ll cover it.”
She blinked. “And I need an expense account.”
He leaned in slightly, his scent—she was noticing it again for the second time in ten minutes—making her heart beat faster. “Done, as long as you don’t consider manicures a business expense.” He reached out and took her hand in his for a moment.
His hands were rough. Rougher than she imagined a man with a desk job’s hands would be. It was just the right amount, though. Not too rough that having him touch her was uncomfortable. Although his skin was hot, and it made a rash of heat flare through her body, raising her core temperature at a rate that didn’t seem physically possible.
She tugged her hand back, trying to seem as though his casual touch hadn’t just flustered her like that. Nothing flustered her. Ever. She didn’t do flustered. Especially not during business hours.
She cleared her throat. “I don’t. Although I consider image to be an extremely important part of my job. I always present myself in a professional, polished manner. Your presentation and my presentation matter to each other. Our success is linked, which makes our business relationship very important.”
“Is that your standard speech?”
She felt her cheeks heat slightly. “Yes.”
“I can tell. It’s very well-rehearsed. And I think I heard it during your interview.”
She tightened her lips, trying to hold her temper in check. Something about Gage made her feel very shaky and almost … unpredictable. He brought her emotions very close to the surface. Emotions she was usually very good at holding down.
“Well, rehearsed or not,” she said, eyes narrowed, “it’s true. The better I look, the better I make you look, the more money you make. And the better you behave, the better you follow my advice, the more money you make, the more success I’ll have.”
“So, is this lecture your form of consent?”
“Yes,” she said, not missing a beat.
“I
