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"You should have never considered writing him one," William said. "Poppy…Poppy!" he snapped when she turned away from him. He bounded out from behind his desk and grabbed her by the shoulders to prevent her from leaving. She swayed slightly in place as he turned her around, but made no move to pull free from him. He didn't know if he should feel encouraged. Her eyes were green fire, and he had never seen a woman more ready to reduce him to ash. "Poppy, I did exactly what we discussed! I took care of it for you. I don't understand this reception."
"We didn't discuss any of this, William! What I wanted was someone to support me while I made difficult decisions that had to do with my own company…my own life!" she exclaimed. "I didn't want you to take charge! Is that really what you thought?"
"I…" William didn't have a ready response. In truth, he hadn't put much thought into it at all. As soon as Poppy had described her problem, he had zeroed in on the solution and implemented it. "I was just trying to protect you." The explanation sounded so weak, so facile, but Poppy didn't appear angry or resentful. She was peering at him intently. William gazed back at her. He wondered if she could see it replaying behind his eyes: the moment on the ropes course, the moment he almost lost her. It had been all he could think about. If I hadn't been near you, if I hadn't been prepared to shoulder our weight, if my climbing skills had been inadequate…if it were to happen again…
"Protect me from what, William?" Her voice was quieter. "From having to make hard decisions? They're my hard decisions. You wouldn't respect me as an equal if you thought I couldn't handle myself. So do you?"
"Do I what?"
"Do you respect me?" she demanded.
"Of course I respect you." He didn't need to think. "I more than respect you. Poppy, of course I know you're capable."
"Then you better start acting like it," she warned as she stepped out of his arms. "We're a team, William. If I come to you, it means I trust you enough to want your advice. I want your support. But I'm afraid your management style isn't going to work in this partnership…professional or otherwise. So I'll see you at the convention Friday," she concluded as she took a step back.
"You'll see me," William promised.
"Good. Because in light of recent events, I've made some last-minute changes to our costumes. You'll be getting an e-mail from me today," Poppy mentioned over her shoulder as she departed. "I'm throwing down the gauntlet, so be ready."
"Better than impaling me on it," William muttered. He watched her walk out, wishing he didn't so enjoy the mesmerizing sway of that tight, trim posterior. Whatever she would be wearing to the convention, he had no doubt that she would look damn good filling it.
After she had vanished back out the door, William relaxed a little. He hadn't realized he'd been grinding his teeth, but it was better to clamp down on what he really wanted to say then let the words pour forth. How could Poppy not see that he had done this for her? What's more, what he had done had flown in the face of his own self-interest. Jameson Agency looked better if Wildflower had incompetents on staff. He had only sought to do her a favor by helping her cull her staff and make it more efficient. It was something he was good at, and hadn't she come to him seeking his expertise?
He moved back around to his desk and sat down. He was unsurprised to find an unopened e-mail from Wildflower Agency at the top of his inbox.
He clicked it open and braced himself.
Chapter Ten
Poppy
If her arrival at the convention was something of a sensation, then Poppy couldn't wait to see the reception that William was going to get.
"Oh, Miss Hanniford! You look absolutely gorgeous." One of the authors on their panel, a mousy woman who hadn't spoken more than three words to her over the course of their meetings, came running over the moment she clapped eyes on Poppy. "Holy crap. What an innovative idea to switch up your choice of costume!"
"You like it?" Poppy executed a little turn to show off her ensemble. She wore a sleek black suit and choker, her honey-blonde locks straightened and slicked-back. She had indulged herself in a little smoky eye makeup and scarlet lip color to soften the masculine choice of costume.
"Almost as dreamy as the original Rhett Butler," her admirer enthused. "This so fits with the 'unconventional' theme of our panel! Everyone's going to want to know who the crossdressing Rhett Butler is repping. Although…" The author glanced around curiously, and Poppy knew her question before she asked it. "Is Mr. Jameson partnering with you in your cosplay?"
"That remains to be seen." Poppy couldn't help the amusement that colored her tone. It was the exact challenge she had posed to William earlier that week: in sticking with their theme of turning romance conventions on their head, she had informed him of her intention to come dressed as Gone with the Wind's hero. That left him with only one option if he wanted to match her idea.
If you insist on being such a Scarlett, then you can dress the part, Poppy thought mischievously. She was lost in her vision of William draped in a dress—and her suspicion that he might not follow through at all, which she would take as a personal victory—when the author she was speaking to tapped her on the shoulder. She pointed excitedly toward the entrance of the convention center, and Poppy turned, her heart already climbing into her throat in anticipation.
It was William, all right, and he had not disappointed. He wasn't wearing the full-on gown that Poppy had envisioned, but that didn't mean he had taken the 'vision' part out of the equation. William was dressed in an emerald green brocade suit that was completely evocative of Scarlett's infamous curtain dress. When he turned to address the cluster of overexcited authors that came to meet him, Poppy could clearly see the coat's exaggerated tails—from behind, it was almost dress-like. Poppy waited to greet him, fighting a smile. She could see his eyes skimming over the heads of the crowd to locate her. His look when he saw her was approving…more than approving. She loved the way his eyes darkened even more when he focused on her.
He said his farewells cordially, even dropping a little bow to his fans. As if he could get anymore swoon-worthy in that getup. He moved toward Poppy and she met him halfway.
"Frankly, my dear, you look damn amazing," Poppy said in her best sultry baritone.
"I would reply with my passionate refusal to never go hungry again, but it would be a bald-faced lie, " William said. "You look utterly edible in that outfit." William said. He leaned in. "I've never had more of an appetite for anyone in my life."
A shiver of pleasure coursed through her at his words. The heat of his breath on the back of her neck was almost enough to undo her right then and there. She had worked too hard on pulling together her Rhett costume to rip it all off for William now. Instead, she offered him her arm. "Walk with me to the panel?"
William surprised her for the second time that evening by accepting her lead, before swiftly executing a maneuver that turned her around and pulled her into the crook of his arm. Poppy laughed despite herself. Of course William couldn't stand to let someone else take the lead…but in this case, she thought she would allow it. Their own individual experience was bound to be full of these little power plays. She personally couldn't wait to get the upper hand on him again.
"William! Poppy!" The author leading their panel bustled over. "We're about ready to start! We were wondering if the two of you would like to say a few words of introduction to kick us off?"
Poppy glanced at William as they entered the room together. She hadn't prepared anything, but she wasn't afraid to wing it. William raised an eyebrow at her, and she thought they were on the same wavelength. "Not at all," she told the lead panelist. "We're happy to do it."
