he moved to lower his arm and flash her a megawatt smile. His perfectly white teeth all but glistened in the office’s harsh overhead lighting. Marie smiled back, no idea who he was or why he was in her doorway. But it wasn’t often—okay, never—that an elegant and gorgeous man was grinning at her. She’d be crazy not to smile back.
While it was difficult to do anything but sit there and stare at the magnificent specimen of the human race, it occurred to Marie that she should get up and open the door to see who he was. Standing and moving toward him, she hoped her pants weren’t too creased from sitting at the computer for so long. She hadn’t checked her hair in hours, either, and knew that it could be an absolute mop at this point. Her lipstick had faded ages ago.
There was nothing she could do about any of that.
“Can I help you?” Marie asked after opening her door.
“Are you Marie?”
“Yes.”
“Felice suggested I see you.”
“Okay.”
“I’m Zander de Nellay.”
Oh. The gala’s chairperson. Marie had been reading about him in the files.
Jic had noted three facts about Zander. Wants what he wants. Insists everything be of top-notch quality. Offering to pay the difference if anything goes over budget.
That seemed fair enough to Marie. On the private handwritten notes, Jic had doodled a little crown above Zander’s name. Marie wondered if Jic was indicating that he was kind of a diva, or thought he was a king, or that he was formal and fussy.
“Marie Paquet.” She thrust out her hand for a handshake. His joined hers in what she figured would be a traditional business greeting between two people who had never met.
The last thing she was expecting was for his hand to be big and strong and to convey friendliness rather than protocol. She surely wasn’t prepared for the affection coming from the center of his palm to slide up her arm and down the entire right side of her body, so robust it actually made her torso bend toward it.
Once she was able to stand up straight again, she gestured for him to enter her office and closed the door behind them.
“I’m sorry. I’ve just started today so I haven’t had a chance to set up,” Marie felt compelled to explain. She didn’t want him thinking she was some kind of slob with the boxes and stacks of paper everywhere cluttering up such a nice office. That was a sore spot with her because once people learned about her troubled upbringing, they assumed she was somehow unorganized or nonfunctional. It was always an uphill battle to prove them wrong.
“That’s fine,” Zander dismissed her concern. “This was Jic’s office up until a couple of days ago and it was in the same condition then.”
“Do you know why he left so suddenly?”
“I was expecting you to have the answer to that question.”
“I’m sorry I don’t.”
Marie brushed her bangs to the side and tamped down her hair. She didn’t know why she was nervous around this man, other than that he was the gala chair. It wasn’t just that he was good-looking. Maybe it was that he had an undeniable air of style and class about him. Which was something Marie always admired in people. Traits that she surely knew nothing about, having grown up in whatever was the opposite of grace and refinement.
Wow, Zander de Nellay was tall. Fairly petite herself, Marie had to lean her head back to see his eyes. Although she didn’t like his expression when he looked down at her. Because she imagined he was looking down at her.
And she’d sure as heck had enough of that in her life.
Marie reminded herself that she was projecting that onto Zander. She didn’t know him well enough to be able to read his thoughts on anything, and he didn’t know anything about her. A man like him, chair of a huge charity event, wearer of fine clothes, possessor of a splendid face, probably wasn’t even thinking about how inexpensive Marie’s trousers were or that she needed a haircut.
“Can I offer you a water or a coffee?” Felice had stressed that she was to do everything she could to assist Zander.
“I brought some.” He placed his computer bag onto one of the chairs around the meeting table and pulled out his laptop and a bottle of gourmet sparkling water. “Do you have cups?”
Marie looked around the office she’d not yet had a minute to personalize. Near the telephone was a stack of disposable cups. “It seems I do,” she reported and reached for them.
Zander twisted the cap off the bottle with a flourish Marie couldn’t help but note. When a bit of carbonation from inside was set free, it hissed. Which was exactly how Marie was starting to feel in Zander’s presence. Like she might need to let out some bubbles soon so as not to explode.
After the drinks were poured and Zander had booted up his laptop, they began.
“Why don’t you bring your chair closer and we can work from my screen?” he suggested.
Even though she’d been in the exact same configuration with Felice earlier in the day, sitting next to Zander was another proposition entirely. Her awareness of him was palpable. His entire body emanated warmth. It hadn’t been coming from just his palm when he’d shaken her hand.
Her fists opened and closed involuntarily.
Zander reached in his bag for something else. But when he glanced at what he retrieved, a quick smirk flashed across his face and he stuffed whatever it was back in. A second dig yielded the USB drive he’d been searching for. Naturally, curiosity racked Marie as to what the first item was.
“As I understand it,” he said while reading, “the components are venue, theme, invitations, arrivals. Then there is food and beverages, rentals of tables and chairs, tableware, bar setup, buffets. Flowers, linens, tech, photography, band, auction, speeches and volunteers.”
“The venue is booked and invitations have been sent, according to Jic’s notes.”
“Yes, months ago. Have you seen them?”
“No, I’ve only just started on the job today.”
“There’s no need to make excuses. I was merely asking if you’d seen them.”
“I’m sorry. I hope they’re in one of these boxes.” Marie pointed to the disarray she’d inherited on her desk.
“And no need to apologize.” Zander reached into his bag again and located one of the invitations. He handed it to Marie.
Wants what he wants. Marie reread Jic’s note about Zander. That was fine. Marie was detail oriented, too. That’s how she’d gotten as far as she had in the APCF agency. By learning to be diligent. Not a skill she’d had any example of growing up. Except maybe toward all the wrong things.
The lavender cardstock invitation had all of the basic information. The name of the mansion that had been converted into a party location. The event date and time.
“I
