an appointment with him.”
Gage. When she’d said make an appointment, she meant for later. Much later.
Her not-so-settled nerves began to hum. “I don’t have an appointment with him. I have a meeting.”
“I told him that. But he insisted that you’d scheduled time with him, and he drove all the way from Austin.” Melinda lowered her voice. “He was very apologetic and sweet about it. Even asked if there was a possibility you accidentally double booked your appointments.”
Did his audacity have no end?
The stars in Melinda’s eyes were so bright, it was a wonder she could still see around Gage’s charm. Well, Cass didn’t suffer from the same affliction. “When have I ever done that?”
“Oh, I know. Never.” Her shoulders ducked slightly. “But I...well, he asked if I’d mind checking with you and he just seems so sincer—”
“Why is Gage Branson in our reception area?” Trinity Forrester, Fyra’s chief marketing officer, snapped, her short, dark hair nearly bristling with outrage. Since Trinity possessed the main shoulder Cass had cried on back in college, the statement was laced with undercurrents of the “hold me back before I cut off his fingers with a dull blade” variety.
Cass stifled a sigh. Too late to have Melinda throw him out before anyone saw him. “He’s here with a business proposition. I’ll take care of it.”
As the woman in charge, she should have taken care of it in the parking lot once she’d figured out he wanted her formula. But he’d been so... Gage, with his wicked smile. He fuzzled her mind and that was not okay.
This was strictly business and she would die before admitting she couldn’t handle a competitor sniffing around her territory.
“That’s right.” Trinity crossed her arms with a smirk. “You take care of it. You toss him out on his well-toned butt. Shame such a prime specimen of a man is riddled with health problems.”
Melinda’s gaze bounced back and forth between her employers, clearly fascinated by the exchange. “Really? What’s wrong with him?” she asked in a stage whisper.
“He’s got terrible allergies to commitment and decency,” Trinity explained. “And Cass is going to hand him his hat with class. Can I watch?”
Strangling over a groan, Cass shook her head. This was her battle, and there was no way she’d deal with Gage for a second time today in front of a bevy of onlookers. “It’s better if I talk to him in my office. Trinity, can you tell Alex and Harper I’ll be there in a few minutes?”
Trinity harrumphed but edged away as Cass stared her down. “Okay. But if you’re robbing us of the show, you better come prepared to spill all the details.”
With Melinda dogging her steps—because the receptionist likely didn’t want to miss a thing at this point—Cass marched to the reception area.
Arms crossed and one hip leaning on the desk as if he owned it, Gage glanced toward her as she entered, his deep hazel eyes lighting up at the sight of her. His slow smile set off a tap dance in her abdomen. Which was not okay. It was even less okay than his ability to fuzzle her mind.
Steeling her spine against the onslaught of Gage’s larger-than-life personality, she jerked her head toward the hallway. “Five minutes, Mr. Branson. I’m late for a board meeting.”
“Mr. Branson. I like the sound of that,” he mused, winking. “Respect where respect is due.”
Flirting came so naturally to him, she wondered if he even realized when he was doing it. She rolled her eyes and turned her back on his smug face, taking off toward her office in hopes he’d get lost.
He drew abreast with little effort, glancing down at her because he still topped her by several inches no matter how high her heels were, dang it. His powerful masculinity dominated the small hallway that had always seemed quite large enough for every other person who’d accompanied her to her office.
“Trying to score the first one-minute mile? You can’t outrun me barefoot, let alone while wearing icepick stilettos.” He eyed them appreciatively, his too-long hair flopping over his forehead. “Which I like, by the way.”
Her toes automatically curled inside her shoes as heat swept over her skin. “I didn’t wear them for you.”
Why had she thought taking care of this in her office was a good idea? She should have gone to her board meeting and had Melinda tell Gage to take a hike.
But he would have just shown up over and over again until she agreed to an appointment.
So she’d get rid of him once and for all.
When she halted by her open office door, Gage raised a brow as he read its deep purple placard. “Chief enhancement officer?”
His amused tone rankled but she just smiled and silently dared him to do his worst. “Branding. We put incredibly careful thought into every single aspect of this business. Seems like I had a mentor once who taught me a few things about that.”
He grinned in return and didn’t acknowledge her sarcasm. Nor did he say a word about her outstretched arm, choosing to humor her and enter first as she’d meant him to, but he didn’t miss the opportunity to brush her, oh, so casually. She pretended the skin he’d just touched wasn’t tingling.
“Yeah, we did have a few lively discussions about business strategies,” he mused. “Branding is why I drive a green Hummer, by the way.”
Cass had decorated her office with the same trademark Fyra deep purple hue, down to the glass-topped desk and expensive woven carpet under it. He took it all in with slightly widened eyes.
“Because you want everyone to see it and think GB Skin has zero environmental consciousness and its owner is obnoxious?” she asked sweetly before he could make a crack about her decor.
Sleek and modern, the offices had been decorated by an expensive, trendy uptown firm. It had cost a pretty penny, but the results had been worth it. This company was hers, from the baseboards to the ceiling and she loved it. They’d moved to this building three years ago, once Fyra posted its first annual revenue of fifty million dollars. That was when she knew they were going to make it.
She’d do whatever she needed to do in order to keep her company alive.
He laughed as he slid into a purple chair and then swept her with a pointed once-over. “You know the name of my company. I was starting to think you didn’t care.”
How did he manage to make understanding the competitive landscape sound so...personal? It was a skill he’d clearly bargained with the devil to obtain.
“I’m good at what I do. Of course I know the names of my competitors.” Cass remained standing near the door. Which she pointedly left open. “You’ve got your appointment. And about three minutes to tell me why you didn’t take the no I gave you earlier and run back to Austin.”
Casually, he swiveled
