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But now she knew it was Jared at the helm it made more sense—given his own background. Yet the mentoring wasn’t something they used in publicity—once the driver had let it slip, he’d then done so much making light of it she knew it was important. So why didn’t Jared want it advertised?
She met his hard gaze and refused to look away.
‘Why do you want to go away from personality-based advertising?’ Bronwyn piped up, clearly aware of the edge between Amanda and Jared.
‘He’s sick of seeing my face everywhere.’ Barry grinned.
‘So why not rebrand it with your own name and face?’ Bronwyn asked.
Amanda said nothing, just watched Jared’s expression close down.
‘You could call it JJ’s Juice?’ Bronwyn laughed.
Barry laughed too.
Jared didn’t.
It wasn’t long before silence reigned. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Bron blushing—realising she’d made a gaffe. The only one not wincing was Barry.
‘You’re not necessarily going to head the company long-term,’ Amanda said quietly. She didn’t know where she got the prescience from but she knew she was right. ‘And you don’t want it limited or dominated by one personality.’
He met her gaze for a moment longer and then looked away.
‘You know him.’ Bronwyn stated the obvious the minute the taxi doors were closed.
‘Yes.’ Amanda sighed, not wanting to meet her boss’s eyes, but honesty compelled her to.
‘In a way that means we’ll get the contract or we won’t?’
Amanda paused and then shook her head sadly. ‘I don’t know.’ She pulled the tie from her hair and loosened the plait, its tight do hurting her head. ‘Probably the latter. I’m really sorry. I had no idea he was going to be there.’
‘Nor did I. Keeps his cards close, doesn’t he? Doesn’t want to be in the public eye at all. I wonder why?’
Amanda could hazard a guess. Privacy was important to Jared. He’d hated the whole town knowing his business—all the girls feeling as sorry for him as much as they wanted him. He wouldn’t want to be showcased as the underprivileged-kid-done-good. He had too much pride for that.
Bronwyn opened her mouth but closed it again. Next time she opened it she got the question out. ‘How well do you know him?’
It was the inevitable question and Amanda knew exactly what it was she was asking. ‘Not that well.’
‘OK.’ Bronwyn smiled. ‘So how do you know him?’
‘We grew up in the same town. But I haven’t seen him for years.’
‘There’s something, though, isn’t there, between you?’
You’d have had to be made of stone not to have picked up on the tension between them. Bronwyn wasn’t an idiot. And Amanda knew she wasn’t going to let her get off this track without offering up some of the detail.
‘A kiss.’
‘Only one?’
‘He stopped it going further.’
One frightening, exhilarating, life-changing kiss. So often she wished it had never happened. Yet other times, usually when she was kissing someone else, she was glad it had. Because it had been the one kiss that had given her a glimpse of what it could really be like. Amanda had gone in for a lot of kissing in her quest to find a man who could better it. She’d yet to succeed.
She’d romanticised it of course. That was the problem. With the passage of time that hazy memory had become something more than it had really been.
Amanda glanced across to see Bronwyn’s glance resting on her—amusement mixed with chagrin swirling in her expression. ‘Well, it’ll be interesting anyway.’
‘I’m really sorry, Bronwyn. I’d never have come along today had I known.’
Bronwyn shrugged. ‘If your past is going to make as much difference as all that, then maybe we don’t want his business. If he’s unprofessional enough to allow personal issues into his decision-making processes, then we’re better off without him, right?’
‘Right.’ Amanda wanted to smile but couldn’t. No way were they better off without his business. They needed his business no matter what.
‘But for what it’s worth, I think your presentation was stellar. Whatever history you two do or don’t have, it certainly put fuel in your fire. You could have sold me a three-week-old wet newspaper.’
Amanda flushed once more—this time from pleasure rather than mortification. And then the warm feeling subsided. No matter how good she’d been she was sure Jared wouldn’t give them the job.
At that moment Jared was staring at the painting hanging in the far corner of his office, for once not getting any sense of calm from the vast landscape it depicted. He tugged off the tie and undid the top button of his shirt.
