not a fool, Cameron. I saw the client billing statements in the photograph. Tell me the truth. Is Malloy Marketing in financial trouble?”
Oh, jeez. He’d rather rip out his tongue than admit his error in judgment. Yet he couldn’t outright lie. “Yes.”
A meteor of shock streaked through her eyes. She opened and closed her mouth.
The sight of Lizzy speechless unnerved him. His guilt swooped back with a vengeance.
“How can that be?” she finally asked. “We’re handling almost twice the volume of work we did last year.”
“Yeah, but the move to new headquarters alone ate up those profits.”
Her stunned gaze turned accusing.
He tossed the newspaper beside his calendar, rose from his chair and walked to the eighteenth-floor corner window he’d paid for dearly. A half mile in the distance, the state capitol’s pink granite dome glittered in October’s sharp unfiltered sunlight. The sight barely registered.
He knew what she was thinking. Six months ago she’d questioned his decision to double the agency’s space and rent, and he’d assured her the company wouldn’t be overextended. He sure hadn’t intended to jeopardize cash flow.
But higher rent was only part of the cost involved. New furniture, leasehold improvements, computer network and server installation, quality art for the walls, upgraded media room equipment, fire code glass lobby doors…one expense had led to another…and another.…
It was either go the whole nine yards, or invite clients to his new upscale address only to hack at cheese balls and drink from plastic glasses. Talk about tarnishing his winner’s image!
He’d had no choice but to overextend.
Still, he wished she’d say something. Anything. Her silent I-told-you-so added crushing weight to the burden constricting his chest.
“When—” She stopped and cleared her throat. “When were you planning to tell me about this little detail? The day you declared Chapter Eleven?”
Unconsciously widening his stance, he turned around. “I didn’t want to worry you for nothing. The check from Austin Telco came in yesterday—enough to cover overhead for the month. As long as I keep current clients happy, there’s no danger of the agency folding.”
The last ounce of color drained from her cheeks. “My God…folding? Things are really that bad?”
The company’s bottom line gave new meaning to the phrase “red-hot agency.” A detail he would keep to himself.
She obviously read the truth in his expression. “Have you gone crazy? You told Mitch just last week he could order a new color laser. Lowering debt should be our priority, not adding to it.”
The pressure against Cameron’s sternum increased. “The old printer broke down every other day. Even when it did work, the quality was poor. And the damn thing was so slow it brought production to a screeching halt. An upgraded printer will pay for itself in the long run.”
“It’s paying the bills right now that I’m worried about.”
“Like I’m not?” His headache shrieked a painful echo. Yelling, bad. You’d think he’d learn.
He uncurled the fists at his sides and tried again. “I did what I had to do to bump the agency up to the next level. Malloy Marketing wouldn’t have made the first review cut if SkyHawk Airlines’ management had toured the old headquarters. They would’ve pegged the agency as small potatoes and handed their launch budget to some fat Idaho spud.” Poised to offer service to thirteen major cities throughout the U.S., the new airline carrier would be a highly visible and profitable account for its agency of record.
“Maybe. We’ll never know for sure, will we?”
The pain in his chest caught up with his headache and grew agonizing. Failure, very bad.
“Oh, well. What’s done is done.” She straightened her spine and set her jaw. “I’ll need to review the balance sheet and client billing statements as soon as possible.”
Panic clawed at his control.
“If we focus on cost-efficiency and revise our growth strategy, we’ll be okay.”
He couldn’t think.
“Cameron?”
He couldn’t breathe.
“Hey, are you all right?”
“No!” Cameron roared, heaving off his unbearable fear and guilt.
He stalked forward to Lizzy’s chair, leaned down and braced a hand on each upholstered arm. “What’s this we business, huh? I don’t see your name on the letterhead, or the bank loan papers, or the building lease agreement, or the payroll checks. It’s my ass on the signature line. My company you’re talking about, not cold facts and figures on a page. So listen up, Lizzy, because here’s our game plan and I’ll only say it once.
“You’ll keep hiding from the real world in your nice safe office, converting real marketing problems into theoretical marketing strategies that other people will keep presenting and implementing. You’ll let me keep handling the agency finances, just like always, without your interference. And you’ll keep the company’s financial status to yourself, because even a hint of trouble would be bad for employee and client morale, wouldn’t it? Especially since Malloy Marketing won’t fail. I repeat, this company will not fail.”
The thud in his ears was loud and frantic, dominating all other sensory input. Gradually his heartbeat slowed. The vise squeezing his lungs loosened. He inhaled deeply and detected the scent of lemons. Good Lord!
Cameron stared down at Lizzy in bemusement as her quick warm breaths fanned his skin.
Her uptilted face was in classic kissing position. Automatically he lowered his gaze to her mouth. Small, plump and pretty. Familiar…and yet not. Sampling those cupid-bow lips would be as natural as taking a sip of Heineken.
And as foreign as swallowing a taste of mam.
“I believe I grasp your meaning, Cameron. You can move aside, now.”
His gaze jerked up to meet wounded Betty Boop eyes. Every malicious word he’d uttered replayed in his head.
He didn’t budge. “Lizzy…God, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean all that stuff. You know I didn’t.”
“Oh, I think you did. It might’ve taken me ten years to figure out, but by George, I’ve finally ‘got’ it.” Her expression hardened. “This is your company, not ours. You’ll let me share credit for the agency’s awards, but not responsibility for its problems. I shouldn’t overstep my bounds, or even leave my office except at your invitation. Because you’re the high concept front man, right?”
Damn. “You’re twisting my—”
“I’m only the back office details person.” She overrode his protest, G.I. Jane on a roll. “I’m handy with textbook theories, but have no useful practical
