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Picking up the boardroom projector’s remote from the table, I lean back in my chair and cross my legs. “On that note, I think we should begin the presentation. I’ll get everyone up to speed,” I say to the room. I look back at Denise. “It’ll be my pleasure.”
* * *
Chase
Campbell’s voice resonates clearly through the room as she flips through the slides and goes into the details of her marketing plan. Funny, her voice doesn’t sound so Southern now. Her distinct twang is nearly undetectable, and I wonder if that’s a conscious thing. There is obviously some bad juju between Campbell and Denise.
Not that I blame her. Since taking over, I’ve detested every moment working with the woman. It isn’t just her incompetence, which makes me wonder how she’s stayed so long on such a high-profile account. Her whole demeanor grates on my nerves. Both as a business associate and as a person. As I said to the table, Warren and Baron has been doing the bare minimum for Moore’s. That, in addition to every unwanted advance Denise—a married woman—has thrown my way, would have had Warren and Baron fired in a heartbeat if it hadn’t been for the damn contract.
I’m well versed in King Marketing’s plan at this point, so I pretend to watch Campbell give her presentation, though I’m really just looking her over. Something I’ve been trying not to do since I walked in here today. I even arrived a bit late, striding in and immediately starting the meeting just to keep my eyes (and my dick) from lingering on her too long.
It’s a good thing I waited, as she looks fine. Damn fine. Between her red hair and her green suit, Campbell looks like Christmas in spring, and I’d very much like to unwrap her while she tells me what a good boy I’ve been.
Fuck. This is not going to end well for me.
Denise interrupts Campbell mid-sentence. “It’s nice of you to put this little show together, Campbell. But Warren and Baron has been handling the marketing at Moore’s for years, and with our extensive experience, I’m sure Mr. Moore”—she glances at me— “senior will be more comfortable with what my team and I have already put together. This is New York, after all, not Kansas. Moore’s needs—”
Before I can jump in and tell Denise exactly where her and her team can stick their unwanted and unasked-for presentation, and probably cost Moore’s a mint by dissolving the contract with Warren and Baron early, Campbell steps in.
“What exactly does Moore’s need, Denise? More outdated ads? Lackluster website interfacing? Are y’all at Warren and Baron content to sit back and watch Moore’s get buried beneath your limited, traditional strategy while it sinks further into the red?” The more she talks, the heavier her accent falls, and my mind immediately goes to what she’d sound like all worked up in bed.
Focus, Chase.
“Because if that’s what you think Moore’s needs, then yes, by all means continue with your antiquated marketing plan,” Campbell continues. “Maybe that’s what the senior Mr. Moore wants, as he is, after all, closer to your generation.”
Denise gasps, and Ben and Chris smile into their laptops.
“But as you can see”—Campbell looks dramatically around the room— “he isn’t here.” She levels Denise with a look that makes me think she wants to cut a bitch. “If you want to pretend to be a man and have a measuring contest, Denise, by all means, let’s. But just remember, I’m not from Kansas, I’m from Texas. And everything’s bigger there.”
I stifle the laugh that bursts out of my chest, coughing, then pounding on my chest with my fist. My theatrics are not at all convincing, going by Denise’s death glare. Campbell can take care of herself. And that is hot as fuck. Her eyes are flashing, her chest heaves slightly, and the focused, laser-like stare she has going on does things to my nether regions that I wasn’t sure could happen after Mike’s claws-out pounce two nights ago.
Before Denise can bluster, which I’m sure she’s about to do given the indentations her talons are making on the boardroom table and the bulge in her eyes, I step in. “There seems to be some misunderstanding.” Everyone swings their attention to me, though it takes Campbell and Denise a moment to stop eye-murdering each other. “I am in charge. Not my father, not my brother. Me.” I narrow my eyes in Denise’s direction. “If anyone thinks their past relationship with my father has any sway, they couldn’t be more wrong.” She scowls at this, and it’s not an attractive look. Seriously, the woman’s lips pinch so hard creases deepen all over her face. “After me, the next in line in this room is Ms. King and her team when it comes to all things marketing. The contract between Moore’s and W&B does not preclude us from hiring another firm to consult and oversee marketing operations.” I stare Denise down. “If you have a problem with that, I’ll let my lawyers know you’re under breach of contract.”
Silence fills the room. Denise is fighting to relax her posture, and her associates look embarrassed by her outburst, but no one gainsays me.
Campbell clears her throat. “In the next slide you’ll see…”
I smile as Campbell picks up right where she left off before being interrupted. Her features are schooled into polite indifference as she informs the other marketing team exactly what they’ll be doing in the upcoming months. She’s poised, aloof, and utterly professional. It only makes me want to fuck her more.
Denise snorts at something Campbell says, drawing my eyes back in her direction. Something isn’t right there. It’s more than a marketing turf war, but I’m not sure what. But the same instinct that told me Gwen Hayes would be the one to pop my cherry in eighth grade, and that women would not only welcome the opportunity to rate dick pics but pay for the chance, is now telling me Denise isn’t done causing problems.
* * *
Everyone but Denise nods and makes nice with Campbell and her team before leaving.
I think the entire room would agree that Denise is acting like she has a big old stick up her backside.
“This is your new email. I want you to come up with a strong password. It’s better if it has letters, numbers, symbols, and a mix of capitals and lower cases,” Campbell says to Alice, who nods. “Now pay attention, because what I’m about to tell you is for your own good as well as my company’s, okay?” Another nod from Alice. Campbell reaches out for Alice’s hand and makes sure to look directly into her eyes. “Never, not ever, give your password to anyone else, do you understand?” Campbell shakes Alice’s hand when the younger woman simply gives another nod. “I’m serious, Alice. No one. If you have trouble remembering, or something happens to the system, Moore’s has a very reliable tech guy who will give you a temporary password, but then you immediately change it to something else no one knows.”
Sensing Campbell’s sincerity, Alice finally speaks up. “Yes, Ms. King. I promise.”
Campbell pats Alice’s hand. “That’s good, Alice. But call me Bell. You’ll also have a sign-in code to all work computers that’s different from your password. You’re only to use work computers for work. No personal computers allowed. Do you understand?”
Alice perks up. “I get a computer?”
Campbell smiles. “Yes, and a new smart phone.”
“Holy crap.” Alice claps a hand over her mouth and turns pink as Campbell’s husky laugh tumbles out.
