Well, I was wondering if maybe you’d want to attend a charity ball with me tomorrow night. I know it’s last-minute, but my father just informed me I have to go and, as I recall, you said you’d love to attend one.”
“Will you be picking me up in a pumpkin-shaped carriage?”
“I can if you promise to wear some glass slippers,” he replied.
“Touché,” she said, pausing at the top of the staircase that led down into the subway. “Okay, you’re on! Where should I meet you?”
“Oh, I really will pick you up,” he said. “Mark already gave me your address.”
“Right. Then I’ll see you about eight?”
“Better make it seven.”
“Okay. See you then,” she said, trying to sound nonchalant.
But inside she was squealing. Going to a ball with the handsome son of a business tycoon? Looking forward to that would certainly get her through this meeting, no matter how badly it went.
Nick looked at his watch, wishing with all his might that his driver would turn off the classical music and step on the gas pedal. Leaning forward, he said, “Bob, can’t you go a little faster?”
The bald man turned and made a face at him.
“What? Are you late for a hot date or something?”
“No. Just a meeting with our agency’s biggest client.”
“The one they brought you back from London to save?” the big man said, one eyebrow raised.
“The one and only.”
“Say no more, son. I’ll get you there. Buckle up.”
As the town car turned off the traffic-jammed street on to a glorified alley Nick quickly did as he was told.
He was more worried about this meeting than he cared to admit. If he could get the cosmetics account back on solid ground it would go a long way toward shoring up the agency’s future—and putting an end to the board’s threats to sell it.
Silently, Nick cursed his father for selling shares of Thornton & Co. without giving him a chance to buy in. If Nick couldn’t get Thornton in the black again his old man would side with those vultures and sell the business he’d promised his grandfather he’d protect—and he wouldn’t be able to do anything about it.
Nick thought back to all the times he’d looked for his father in the stands at football games and soccer matches, only to find his grandfather there instead. Remembered all the times his grandfather had been there to help him with his homework when his mom and dad had been missing in action. Hell, his grandfather had been the only one to show up for his high school graduation.
Saving the agency from his father was the least Nick could do to pay him back. Especially since it was the only thing his grandfather had ever asked him to do.
Nick sighed. It was going to take a long time to undo the damage his dad had done. He was going to have to take it one step at a time. First he’d get Goddess back. Then he’d reward himself with a night out with Jessie.
Ever since he’d held her in his arms at the wedding he’d wanted to see more of her. The sound of her laugh was embedded in his brain, tinkling to life at the most inappropriate of times—like when he was out with one of the never-ending stream of society women his mother kept fixing him up with.
He wondered what his mother would say if she saw him with Jessie? Probably something terrible.
There was no way Jessie would win approval from anyone in his family. From what Mark had told him, he knew she didn’t have the family ties or social standing that would make her a real person in their eyes. She was a nobody from somewhere in Michigan.
And he already knew what happened when he fell for a “nobody.” He got hurt and she got paid to go away.
No need to go through that again. Much better to keep things light. Flings were all he allowed himself—and something told him Jessie operated the same way.
“Nick?”
Nick blinked and realized Bob was staring back at him.
“What?”
“We’re here.”
“Here?”
“Yes. At the site of your hot meeting?”
“Oh. Right,” he said, shaking his head to clear it of thoughts of the redhead. “Thanks.”
“You want me to wait?”
“No. I don’t know how long this will take. Go home to your wife. I’ll catch a cab home.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah.”
“Thanks,” Bob said with a grin. “For the record, I’m looking forward to the day you’re in charge.”
“Me too, Bob. Me too.”
With that, he stepped out and headed into the sleek glass building.
Nick waved at the blond-haired receptionist as he strode through the marble foyer.
“Hey, Joan. Are they in the usual spot?”
“They are, indeed,” she said. “But don’t you have time to chat for a minute?”
“Sorry, babe,” he said, giving her his sexiest grin. “Maybe next time.”
“All right—fine. But I’ll hold you to it!”
He saluted and kept moving through the twelve-foot doors. She was cute, but if he ever had to listen to another one of her stories about Fred, her adorable cat, he might just poke his eyes out.
Still, he’d do whatever he had to to remain a favorite here. Perception was king in advertising, after all.
He looked down at his watch. Seven minutes past three. Crap. That meant the meeting had started without him. Still, it wouldn’t do to look as if he was in a hurry.
He stopped, took a deep breath, and opened the door, already preparing his apology.
But when he saw what or rather who was inside the sleek conference room, the words died in his throat.
“Jessie? What are you doing here?”
The redhead looked up from the computer screen she’d been sharing with the elegant gray-haired woman who was his client, a confused look on her face.
“Working. What are you doing here, Nick?”
“The same.”
Quickly, their client intervened. “I see you two already know each other?” she said. “How convenient.”
“Well,”
