even if he gave up on making moonshine completely, Drake Distilleries could benefit from a talent like Tessa’s. And so could his restaurants and nightclubs. Targeted, carefully executed advertising and effective promotion were a lot of what made everything he put his name on successful. Adding Tessa to the firm that promoted his brand could work for him in a big way.
And for her, too. Before last night faded into oblivion, they had talked about her career, about where she might be going with it. He’d said she should go big. Now that he’d seen her work, he knew he’d been right. If he could make her a tempting enough offer, maybe he could convince her to come to LA, after all.
All at once he felt vindicated. He hadn’t told his people he was returning to Southern California because he wasn’t. Not yet.
Not until he’d convinced Tessa Strickland to move to LA, where he could help her have the kind of successful design career she so richly deserved. He knew he could give her a big boost professionally.
And if it went somewhere personal, too, he would be more than fine with that.
* * *
First thing the next morning, Carson called Jason Velasco, his contact at Interactive Marketing International in Century City. He was about to explain that he’d found a brilliant graphic designer and he was hoping she might be a fit for IMI. He planned to tell Jason that he wanted Tessa working on the various ad campaigns that IMI developed for both Drake Distilleries and Drake Hospitality, which was the mother company for Carson’s clubs and restaurants.
But then he caught himself.
True, Jason knew where his bread was buttered. If Carson wanted Tessa working at IMI, Jason would damn well do all in his power to make that happen.
But how would Tessa react to Carson’s setting her up for an interview without consulting her first?
Quite possibly not well.
Given that she’d walked away from him yesterday without a backward glance, he really couldn’t afford to take the chance of pissing her off in any way.
And Jason was still waiting on the line, probably wondering if he’d hung up. Carson said lamely, “Hey! Just thought I’d call and check in, see how we’re doing with the new campaign.” Drake Distilleries was preparing to launch a series of flavored brandy-based liqueurs.
Jason gave him a quick rundown. Then he asked, “So you’re still in the wilds of Montana on that supersecret new acquisition of yours?”
“Still in Montana, yes. And the project did start out as a secret. But this is a small town, and it’s hard to keep a secret around here.” He explained about Homer’s moonshine, and how he’d thought it might work for Drake Distilleries. “But it was a long shot and it didn’t pan out. The downstroke is it’s a no go.”
“That’s too bad.”
“Can’t win ’em all.”
“So you’ll be on your way back now?”
“Not yet. I have a few more things I need to look into here first.” Things like how to convince a certain adorable brunette that California is the place for her.
“But we’ll see you on the twentieth?” On the twentieth, Jason and his team would be presenting the game plan for the liqueur campaign. It was an important meeting. In fact, Carson had more than one meeting he couldn’t miss during that week. He would have to return to LA by then.
That gave him two and a half weeks to get through to Tessa. Ordinarily he had limitless confidence in his powers of persuasion. Not so much in this case.
“Carson? You still with me?”
“Right here. And of course I’ll be there on the twentieth.”
Once he hung up with Jason, Carson called Strickland’s Boarding House. Tessa’s sister Claire answered, politely identifying herself. He almost told her who he was. But then he remembered the look on Tessa’s face when she’d left him the morning before. If Tessa knew he was calling, would she even come to the phone?
He decided to take no chances. “I’d like to speak with Tessa Strickland.”
“Hold on.”
A moment later, she came on the line. “This is Tessa.”
Just the sound of her voice made his chest feel tight. He wanted to see her, wanted it a lot. “You probably won’t believe this, but I can’t stop thinking about you.”
A silence. Not a welcoming one. “Hello, Carson.”
“I was thinking maybe lunch. We could drive over to—”
“Carson, I don’t think so.”
He lowered his head and stared at his boots. “It’s just lunch.”
She spoke again, her voice almost a whisper. “Please don’t worry. I went to Kalispell yesterday and took care of it.”
“It?” And then he caught on. He swore low. “Come on, Tessa. Don’t. I’m not calling about the damn morning-after pill.”
A silence on her end. A long, gruesome one. Then finally, “It’s just...not a good time for me to get anything started, you know?”
“Fine.” Though it wasn’t. Not fine in the least. “This isn’t a personal call, anyway.” That was only half a lie. He wanted to get close to her, absolutely. But he also wanted to help her have the career she deserved. “Did you know you left sketches in my suite?”
“Yeah. I saw the sketch pad on the coffee table and looked through it. I don’t remember how or when it happened, but apparently we plotted out a moonshine campaign.” She paused, then, “Wait a minute. You’re going ahead with the moonshine thing after all?” Now she sounded surprised—and not in a good away.
“No.”
She sighed. “Glad to hear it. You had me worried there for a minute.”
“This isn’t about the moonshine. It’s about you, about your future. Those sketches are amazing. I want you to think about—”
“Carson.”
He stared at his boots some more and knew he was getting nowhere. Feeling desperate and pitiful—emotions with which he’d never been the least familiar—he took one more stab at getting through to her. “You have so much talent. I only want to—”
“No, thank you,” she said softly, with utter finality. “I have to go now. Goodbye.”
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