style="font-size:15px;"> “That’s what I told him he was. Magic Man from Vegas.”
Jessie stared at her, her blue eyes almost green with jealousy. “Man, that must have been one good night.”
“The best,” Becky said. Seeing the question in Jessie’s eyes, she put her hand up in a “stop” gesture. “But it was just one night. I don’t want or need a man in my life right now. What I need,” she said, grinning, “is a team of Magic Women. Let’s go put it together.”
“I knew my girl was in there somewhere. And—” Jessie grinned, handing Becky the check “—since you’re about to be fifty thousand dollars richer, I’ll let you get this.”
Becky rolled her eyes. “Fine,” she said. “But only because you’re about to work your ass off for me.”
* * *
Mark was staring out through the window of his office at the crowds teeming past on Madison Avenue, wondering what on earth he had gotten himself into.
Usually he was brought in to save the day. Agencies never called him until they were facing a problem they couldn’t solve—a challenge they couldn’t meet. He got to play the part of vagabond hero. He came in, slayed the dragon, claimed a few hot nights with the delicious advertising damsels he had rescued, then left.
He didn’t get to know the other players in the story. Never bothered to worry about whose toes he was stomping on, or what effect his actions had on those left behind when he rode off into the sunset.
His life, both professional and personal, was very much a case study in the “Wham, Bam, Thank You, Ma’am,” approach to life. And that was the way he liked it.
After all, the one and only time he’d allowed himself to fall in love he’d found out the hard way that it had been his stepfather’s name—or, more aptly, his money—that had gotten him the girl. And when she’d found out that Mark would never inherit the family fortune Sandra had turned to someone who did have top billing on a rich man’s will.
The day he’d found Sandra in bed with his stepbrother hadn’t been the first time he’d cursed his stepfamily, but it had been the last time he’d admitted to being part of it.
These days he didn’t need anybody or anything. Well, nothing except for a killer job and a place among advertising’s greats—a place he’d earned on his own.
So why did a certain blonde keep interrupting his thoughts?
Just then Becky strode in, fire in her eyes.
“Wow, hey—thanks for knocking,” he said, trying to ignore the way his pulse quickened when she entered the room.
She stalked forward until she was standing directly in front of him. She took a long, slow look around the room and he knew she must be taking in the overly plush carpet, richly upholstered furnishings, the floor-to-ceiling windows and comparing it with her own small if brightly colored closet.
“Nice setup,” she said. “What’d you do? Sleep with David to get it?”
He snorted. “I think you know that’s not the way my tastes run, babe.”
Her face flushed, and he would have given anything to know what she was thinking. She looked up at him and he could see the heat veiled behind her professional fury.
“Let’s get one thing clear,” she said. “What happened was supposed to stay in Vegas, just like David said. It will never happen again.”
“Never, huh? That’s a long time.”
She looked away quickly, but not before he saw the desire flashing in her eyes.
“I’m serious,” she said, folding her arms across her chest. “I’ve worked too hard to get where I am to let some man screw up my life again.”
The disdain in her voice struck deep. So she thought she could just dismiss the maddening attraction that raced between them, huh? It was time to prove her wrong.
He pulled her into his arms and tilted her face up to his, giving in to the urge he’d been fighting since she’d walked into the room.
“I think you know I’m not just ‘some man,’” he said, as he brushed his lips across hers. “I’m magic.”
With that, he deepened the kiss. For a second she stiffened, but then something in her seemed to give. With a soft moan, she relaxed against him and opened her mouth.
He lost himself in the chocolate-flavored cavern as hunger roared to life. Their tongues darted and danced and he pulled her closer, wanting more.
He was reaching for the buttons on her blouse when the sharp whistle that signaled the arrival of a text message on his phone blared.
Becky jumped back, staring at him with undisguised horror.
“I’m not sure if you’re magic,” she whispered. “But I am beginning to think you might be the devil.”
Mark took a breath, shaken by how fast he had lost control. Obviously the heat that had sparked between them in Vegas had been no fluke.
“I’ve been called worse by my competition,” he said. “But usually not until after I beat them.”
She briefly closed her eyes, and when she opened them again her stare was fiercely competitive.
“Right. The competition. I came to tell you that I’ve chosen my team. I’ll take the women—you take the men.”
“A battle of the sexes, huh? All right, if that’s the way you want to play it,” he said, still trying to get himself under control.
“No, that’s the way I plan to win it,” she said. “I never lose.”
“Neither do I, Gorgeous Girl,” Mark said, getting angry. “But guess what? One of us is going to. And it won’t be me.”
She took a deep breath and straightened her spine.
“Yes. It will. This job is mine and there’s no way I’m going to let you steal it,” she growled, then strode from the room.
“I’m not going to steal it. I’m going to earn it,” he said to her departing back.
And he would. He just hoped he didn’t have to crush her in the process.
Becky looked at the team gathered around the tempered glass conference table. All eight women in the SBD creative department were looking at her expectantly.
“Raise your hand if David has ever belittled your abilities,” she said.
Eight hands shot into the air.
“That’s what I thought. Now, raise your hand if you’d like a chance to prove that chauvinist pig wrong.”
Again
