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“That is apparent by the scowl on your face. The arrangement wasn’t optimal for working together, so I changed it.” She held his gaze, staring him down in spite of the quivering desire to run as far and as fast as she could. She refused to be intimidated by this man any longer. At least, on the outside. If a part of her, the very female and sex-deprived part, saw the fire in his eyes as an invitation, she squelched it.
Not the time, McCarthy. So not the time.
“There was a reason I had it set up like it was.”
“What reason? We can’t possibly work well from that kind of distance.”
He tightened his lips. “My reasons are my own. Move everything back.”
“No.”
“Excuse me?” Gerard set his laptop down and leaned forward, bracing himself on fisted hands on the conference table.
Rowan’s throat felt full of sludge, and she worked hard to bury the gulp she needed to take. Instead, she glared right back. “Don’t try to intimidate me.”
“I’m your employer. You’d do well to remember that.”
“Oh, I know that,” she huffed out. “You make sure I am aware of that every chance you get. Unless you can give me a plausible reason why we need to be at opposite ends of this table, I’m not moving.”
The man’s jaw flexed as he ground his teeth. Finally, after what felt like hours, he snapped up his laptop and sat in the chair that would be his for this day’s work. Their knees knocked together, and damned if Rowan didn’t feel the power surge straight up her leg and throughout her body.
Simmering inside because of his higher-than-thou treatment of her, happy she’d won the glaring contest, and praying that her core would stop pulsing with a need to be touched by him, Rowan forced her hands to relax under the table. Pasting on what she hoped was a bright smile, she turned to Gerard. “I’ve been brainstorming ideas. Without a bid request packet from Scott, we don’t know exactly what they’ll want to see, but we can easily determine the mood we want to set and come up with some basic numbers. I’ve done a lot of research into Scott Cybersecurity, and I think we have a good shot at this.”
She didn’t tell him about the research she’d done while working for Murdoch Financial. She’d never been part of the Scott Team, so the information she’d gleaned had been through hard work and reading between the lines. She’d heard rumors that the Scott account was in trouble but had no clue as to why or how. She only had public data to base her supposition on. But when her brother had seen her perusing Scott’s public financial statements, he reamed her up one side and down the other. She tendered her notice on the spot. Rowan would not work for some hedonistic, chauvinistic ass who thought she didn’t have an intelligent cell in her brain.
“Mood?” he asked, lifting one perfectly shaped eyebrow. The man must have practiced that intimidating eyebrow lift. She pictured him as a child, a teenager, an adult, standing in front of a mirror practicing that move. An involuntary smile touched her face.
“Miss McCarthy?”
“Oh, I’m sorry.” Rowan gave herself a shake and hated the blush that warmed her cheeks. “I got distracted.”
“I can see that.”
“What did you ask?”
“I asked what you meant by mood. I’ve never once heard that word used when putting a bid together.”
“It’s the flavor of the bid.” She used her arms and hands to enhance what she said. “Like, do we go in hard core or take a soft approach? Do we skew our message toward the corporation or the people?”
“That’s an interesting take on the proposal process. However, I don’t think mood or emotion has any part in bids.”
“You wouldn’t.” He seemed bent on not accepting a single idea she offered up. It was infuriating.
“Excuse me?” The eyebrow went up again.
Had she said that out loud? Rowan rolled her eyes. “Sorry. Sometimes I blurt out what I’m thinking without giving it any thought.”
“You think I’m an…automaton?”
“Not…exactly. But maybe you could loosen up a bit. You know, not have that tie so tight around your neck, be willing to think outside the box.” She’d jumped in with both feet, so she might as well keep going. “And maybe you should listen to the people who work for you once in a while. We have great ideas.”
Gerard straightened, and Rowan knew she’d gone too far. No taking the words back now.
He stood and leaned in, towering over her, his expression fierce.
Rowan might have overstepped her bounds, but she’d be damned if she was going to let him intimidate her like that. As angry as he looked, she joined him in standing, using all five foot four inches of her height and wishing she had stilettos on. The man was too tall. Too exasperating. Too— She caught a whiff of his cologne. Wow. Like seduction in a bottle. She damn near leaned in to get a better sniff. No. Not going there. Even if the fire in his eyes did flame higher as she matched his posture. This was a power play, nothing else.
“You need to remember who owns this company, Ms. McCarthy.”
