unorthodox and, unless she’d missed her guess, for the most part spontaneous.
So why did her pulse pound and air feel as if it were in short supply whenever they were in the same room? Why did his sexy Southern drawl send sparks of electric current over every nerve in her body? And why did the sight of his wide shoulders and slender hips cause her body to hum with a restlessness like she’d never known before?
Biting her lower lip to stop its trembling, she hastily reopened the computer file containing her résumé. There was absolutely no question about the matter. She had to find another job as soon as possible or risk losing what little sense she had left.
The following Tuesday afternoon, Caleb sat at his desk, wondering what on God’s green earth Emerald Larson had gotten him into. He didn’t have the vaguest idea of how he was supposed to deal with one of Sker-ritt and Crowe’s best clients. His night classes at the University of New Mexico weren’t scheduled to start until the end of next month. He somehow doubted the business administration courses he’d signed up for would start out covering the interaction with clientele, anyway.
He drummed his fingertips on the desk’s polished surface. He hadn’t been able to find anything on conducting meetings with clients in the management manual, either. The damned thing only covered supervising employees and ways to improve their work environment. It was completely useless for learning how to deal with clients.
But whether Caleb knew what he was doing or not, it didn’t change the fact that Raul Ortiz wanted to meet with him. Caleb had taken over running the financial consulting firm that had helped Ortiz Industries create one of the best employee investment plans in the state, and he suspected that Ortiz wanted to make sure Caleb passed muster.
When he heard A.J.’s voice through the door connecting their offices, Caleb’s spirits lifted. The woman might be driving him crazy trying to figure out what made her tick, but he’d read her personnel file. She really knew her stuff when it came to financial planning and marketing analysis. He’d also discovered that she’d graduated from high school at the age of fifteen and had acquired her master’s degree in investment banking and business administration by the time she was twenty.
If he took her with him when he drove down to Roswell, surely the meeting with Ortiz would work out. He was good with people and A.J. was a whiz at any-thing to do with accounting and financial planning. Together they should make a hell of a team.
Caleb took a deep breath and rose to his feet. He hated feeling inadequate at anything. But he had decided up front that he was going to have to rely on the people working for him until he took courses and got a basic understanding of the business Emerald had given him. It looked as though that reliance was going to have to start sooner than later.
Opening the door between their offices, he smiled when A.J. glanced at him over the top of her computer screen. “I just got a call from a man down in Roswell,” he said, walking over to slump into the chair in front of her desk. “He claims to be our most satisfied client.”
“That would be Mr. Ortiz,” she answered, nodding. “He’s one of our most valued patrons.”
“That’s what he said.” Caleb chuckled. “I get the idea he’s also one of our most outspoken clients.”
“I’ve never known him to mince words,” she said, pushing her glasses up her pert little nose. The action drew attention to her remarkable eyes and Caleb had to remind himself that he’d entered her office for a reason other than staring into her baby blues.
“So you’ve dealt with him before?”
She nodded. “Mr. Skerritt took care of Ortiz Industries’ employee investment program, but he assigned me to advise Mr. Ortiz on his own personal retirement package. Why do you ask?”
“He wants me to drive down to Roswell tomorrow for a get-acquainted meeting.” Trying to sound nonchalant, Caleb added, “I’ve decided I’ll take you with me.”
“Me?” Her eyes widened behind her oversize glasses and the panic he saw in their depths reminded him of a deer caught in the headlights of a car. Was the thought of spending time with him that upsetting?
“Is there a problem, A.J.?”
“Why? I mean, I can’t possibly—” She suddenly closed her mouth and simply stared at him.
As he returned her gaze, Caleb did his best to keep his attention on the issue at hand and off her perfectly shaped lips. “I realize this is on the spur of the moment, but I don’t see that we have any other choice. Since I’ve just taken over here, I don’t know diddly-squat about Ortiz or our business with him. And until I’m up to speed on the individual accounts of our clients, I’d rather not run the risk of losing them.”
His argument made sense to him. He just hoped it sounded reasonable to her.
Watching her nibble on her lower lip as she mulled over what he’d said, it was all he could do to keep from groaning. Why did he suddenly find her mouth so damned fascinating? Hadn’t he learned a damn thing about professional, career-minded women?
“What time is the meeting?” she asked.
Was it his imagination or was there a slight tremor in her voice?
“Ortiz wants to give me a tour of the manufacturing plant tomorrow afternoon, then have dinner around six or seven.”
“It would be too late for us to drive back tomorrow evening and I have two phone meetings early the next morning.” She sounded extremely relieved when she added, “I’m sorry, but I really think my going with you would be impossible. We’ve been courting these potential clients for several months and there’s the possibility of losing them if I reschedule the calls.”
He wasn’t about to give up that easily. “Where are they located?”
“Mr. Sanchez is in Las Cruces and Mrs. Bailey is in Truth or Consequences.” Her eyes narrowed. “Why?”
“If I remember my high-school geography, those two places aren’t that far from Roswell,” he said, thinking fast. “Call and tell them we’ll be in their area day after tomorrow and that we’d like to meet with them in person. It’ll show that we’d really like to work for them, as well as free you up to go to Roswell with me. Then we’ll drive back after dinner Thursday evening.” Deciding to beat a hasty retreat before she could find another excuse, he headed for the door. “I’ll come by your place around ten in the morning.”
“Th-that won’t be necessary,” she said, stopping him. When he turned back, she added, “I have to come in tomorrow morning to tie up a few loose ends. We can leave from here.”
Caleb could tell she wasn’t happy, but that couldn’t be helped. He wasn’t particularly proud of having to rely on her expertise to keep from looking like a fool in front of a client.
“Fair enough,” he said, nodding. “I’ll have Geneva make a reservation for tomorrow night in Roswell.”
“That should be reservations—plural—as in two rooms.”
“Of course.”
Heading out the door to speak with their secretary, Caleb couldn’t help but grin. He clearly made A. J. Merrick as nervous as the parents of a four-year-old talking to the preacher after Sunday services.
The
