AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I clear my throat, looking over Susan’s shoulder to a sales associate who is rehanging the outfits Campbell decided not to purchase on a separate rack, as I instructed. “We can discuss your initial thoughts on Moore’s and its much-needed marketing update.”
Campbell pauses, just long enough that I’m certain she’ll say no. Like she’s running through a list of excuses in her head to pawn me off. So I’m pleasantly surprised when she squares her shoulders and says yes.
“Is that Thai place on 39th still there?”
“Thai’s Pad?”
A small laugh escapes her. “Yeah, that’s the one.”
“Still there. And still making some of the best curries in Manhattan.”
“Okay,” she says with a decisive nod. “Business lunch. We can order in.” She thanks Susan for all her help before taking her bags. “Do you have an office or conference room we could commandeer?”
“Of course.” I smother my triumphant grin, which is probably wildly inappropriate for a business lunch, and turn to Susan. “Thanks for your help, Susan.”
The too-knowing older gal with her perfectly coifed silver hair turns a sly look my way. “My pleasure, Mr. Moore.” She smiles at Campbell. “You two enjoy your business lunch.”
“We will. And call me Chase, Susan.” Ignoring her amused snort, I hold out my hands to take Campbell’s bags from her.
One finely arched, auburn brow quirks up as she hands them over. “I can carry those myself, you know.”
“Yes, I know.” But I don’t give them back.
She rolls her eyes but does it with a smile. With a final nod to Susan, who looks far too pleased with herself, I lead Campbell away from the counter, happy with today’s turn of events.
That good feeling stays with me for all of five minutes.
That’s how long it takes for the wolves to descend. Or should I say cougars? But that isn’t accurate either. Moore’s hires a diverse selection of men and women. And while only a few of the men want to shake hands with the new boss, all of the women do. Or shake something, as we work our way out of the store.
“Mr. Moore!” a saleswoman calls to us from across the department. “We just received an absolutely fabulous selection of silk boxers this morning.” She runs her hands down the sides of her tight dress. “Would you like me to select a few for you?”
Unfortunately, the route to the elevator takes Campbell and me right past her. “No thank you, Ashley,” I say, squinting to read the name tag on her chest she’s thrusting at me.
“Oh.” She blinks rapidly. “Perhaps you’re more of a boxer brief man, then?” There’s a hopeful note in her voice. I can tell she wants me to play along. To laugh. Flirt.
Usually, I’d be that guy. I’d play the part that I often do just to rile my father. I’d tease a bit, smile at everyone, even wink at the older gals who’ve known me since my diaper years. But today I don’t want to be that guy.
Today, in the presence of Ms. Campbell King, a woman with the reputation of a marketing genius, I want to be the guy who impresses with his business acumen, who takes the time to listen to a publicity plan without having to fend off lingering arm touches and innuendo.
I smile tightly at a disappointed Ashley before moving past her. Unfortunately, Ashley isn’t the last to stop us on our way.
“Your staff is very… dedicated,” Campbell says, her voice dripping in Southern syrup, after I played dumb when stopped by an overly eager furniture saleswoman asking about how hard I liked my wood.
“They’re, uh, still getting used to seeing me on the floor,” I manage, relief flooding through me when I catch sight of the gold-framed elevator doors that lead to the office floors.
The corner of her mouth twitches. “Mmm-hmm.”
I insert the special key card to operate the elevator and stand back to let Campbell through. Her brown eyes are sparkling, the light taupe-colored freckles highlighted by the small chandelier in the elevator foyer. And when I catch sight of her backside, clad in her new form-fitting pencil skirt, my dick decides that her mouth shouldn’t be the only thing twitching.
Especially when Campbell starts humming “All Shook Up.”
5
BELL
“Coming?”
My new Jimmy Choos trip over the low pile carpet outside his office, but I quickly right myself. The bastard smiles, like he knows what that one little word did to me. Actually, that isn’t quite fair. It’s a nice smile. A professional smile. One that turns concerned at my small stumble. I’m the one with the one-track mind, apparently.
