Chapter 18
Jennifer
The conference room mirrored the rest of SIN-TV. Sleek with lots of polished metal and black leather. Framed posters of current series hung on the walls along with the motto of SIN-TV created by Jaime Zander’s ad agency, ZAP! “Television so hot, your screen will sizzle.” And of course, a huge plasma screen TV was embedded into the front wall.
I hobbled into the room. Blake was already there, seated at the head of the large conference room table. His presence sent a shudder flying through me. Hibernating in my office over the past few days, I’d hardly seen him. Most of our communication was via email. This morning, I had sent him my presentation to review and he’d approved it. The photo of him and Kat kissing had set me back emotionally. I could hardly look him in the eyes. I hadn’t expected it to cause me so much pain.
Despite the fact it was casual Friday, he was wearing one of his elegant, tapered, custom-tailored dark suits with a white dress shirt and a sharp looking tie. It had an unexpected, unnerving effect on me. He also looked rested and had shaved. His hair was back to having that groomed, just-fucked look. My stomach churned. Of course, he had fucked Kitty-Kat. And that was probably just for starters. Every nerve in my body sizzled.
His piercing blue eyes met mine, and I knew he knew he was affecting me. He flashed a smile. Why was he acting like nothing had happened between us? Why was he taunting me? I was an ice cube on fire.
“Sit next to me, please.” His voice was authoritative yet seductive.
Pointing a forefinger, he indicated for me to take the seat just to the right of him. As much as I didn’t want to sit anywhere near him, he was still my boss and I had no choice. Taking a much needed calming breath, I lowered myself to the chair and set my crutches next to me against the table. Blake rose, gathered my crutches, and then strutted across the room where he placed them in the far right corner. He returned to his seat, the heat of his body radiating and inciting me.
Seeking a distraction, I eyed my laptop sitting in the middle of the table. With the help of Mrs. Cho and our tech team, I’d set it up earlier in the afternoon to hook up with the big screen TV. Using a remote, I’d be able to project my PowerPoint onto the large screen. I turned to face Blake.
“Are you sure you want me to do the presentation?” My unsteady voice underscored my anxiety. This was my first big presentation and I… we… had a lot riding on the line.
Blake didn’t flinch. His hypnotic blue eyes met mine. Get them off me!
“Yes. This is your baby. Your pitch. No one can sell your idea better than you. Remember the three cherries… line them up.”
The right idea. The right time. The right person. Blake’s Vegas lesson—his father’s credo. I had two out of the three cherries in place. The right idea and right time. I just needed to win Gloria over. A pang of sadness stabbed me. When it came to Blake and my own personal life, nothing was lined up. Everything was shattered. I fought hard to put what had happened between us to the back of my mind, afraid that tears might erupt. It wasn’t easy.
On time, at exactly four o’clock, Gloria sauntered into the room with a stylishly dressed, spiky-haired man who appeared to be the same age. Thirty something.
Gloria was even more stunning in person than in the photos I’d seen both online and at her house. Tall and statuesque, she was wearing a black and white Chanel (so I thought) tweed suit with gobs of pearls swathed around her neck. Bright red lipstick stood out against her porcelain skin, and her mane of hair, pure platinum, cascaded in a loose thick braid over her shoulders. It reached past her waist. She was in a word—intimidating. A magnificent powerhouse of a woman.
Her companion, blatantly gay, eased my angst. Dressed in tight leather pants, a vintage cardigan, a bow tie, and red high-tops, he smiled warmly at me. He reminded me a lot of Libby’s brother, Chaz.
Gloria’s eyes, one remarkably blue, the other brown, darted to the corner of the room where my crutches were stacked. Her eyes shifted back to me. I had no idea if she knew what had transpired at her beach house. I wondered—had Blake told his best friend Jaime?
Before I could push myself away from the burl wood table to stand up, she came by to shake my hand and introduced her companion, Kevin Riley, her partner and head of marketing and public relations. Her voice was commanding but warm. I instantly liked her.
“Where’s Jaime?” asked Blake as she and Kevin took seats at the table across from me. I caught sight of her magnificent wedding ring with its entwined heart-shaped diamonds while she responded.
“He’s still in Japan. A crisis with a client.”
Blake rolled his eyes at her. “Oh, so he put his other client’s needs before yours?” Blake had told me before the meeting that her husband’s advertising agency ZAP! handled Gloria’s Secret’s media buys among many others.
“Yes.” A sexy smile snaked across her face. “He’ll pay.”
“Oh will he,” chimed in Kevin.
Gloria shot Kevin a wry look and then turned her attention to me. “Thank you for the lovely picture frame, Jennifer. I’ve already put a family photo in it and set it on the piano.”
I was surprised but relieved she got it so quickly. “You’re welcome,” I stammered, trying hard to quell both the scrumptious and turbulent memories of the weekend at her house.
“Why don’t we get straight into the pitch,” said Blake, his words rushed. There was no doubt in my mind—he needed to move on as much as I did. My chest tightened. Blake turned my way and handed me the remote. “Jennifer…” His voice trailed off.
Taking a deep breath, I clicked the remote and initiated the PowerPoint. Slide after slide spoke to the power of the erotic romance books I wanted to turn into telenovelas and to the research that supported my block of SIN-TV daytime programming.
I managed to steal a few glances at Gloria during my presentation. She sat at the conference room table poker-faced, her hands, with their perfectly manicured crimson nails, folded stoically in front of her, her intense eyes glued to the big screen TV. I also glanced occasionally at Blake. He was intermittently nodding with approval and monitoring Gloria’s reaction to the presentation. Battling my nerves, I pushed myself forward until I came to the end of the presentation—a video clip featuring some testimonials from the focus groups. “A picture is worth a thousand words,” my father, the wordsmith, ironically preached. I wrapped things up.
“So based on the popularity of these books and our research findings, I believe there is a huge market for erotic programming targeted at women. I’m tentatively calling the block, “MY SIN-TV.” Done. With an inner sigh of relief, I turned my computer off and anxiously awaited a response from Gloria or Kevin.
Silence. Gloria pursed her full, red-lacquered lips and then turned to her companion. “Kev, what do you think?”
I held my breath.
“I think Jennifer’s idea is fan-fucking-tastic.”
Gloria nodded, a smile widening on her lips. “I do too. I love all these books and so do Gloria’s Secret customers. I think this a perfect match. I’d like to sponsor the entire block in exchange for product placement.”
In shock, I shot Blake a glance. His eyes sparkled and a dazzling smile exploded across his face.
Gloria continued. “Jennifer, have you thought of an online component?”
“Not yet,” I stuttered, trying to maintain my composure. Holy shit! Gloria Zander, the head of Gloria’s Secret, the world’s largest retailer of women’s lingerie, had just bought into my programming block. Thank goodness, I couldn’t walk because I would have jumped up and done a happy dance.
Blake, to my surprise, said nothing until Gloria spoke to him directly.
“Blake, what I’d like to propose is that we do an online joint venture. We replay the episodes of the telenovelas on our website and offer women a point and click opportunity to buy all the Gloria’s Secret products featured. We’ll split the profits. It’ll be a win-win for both of us.”
Kevin f
anned himself. “Oh, Glorious, that’s frickin’ brilliant.”
Blake nodded. “I agree. That’s a great idea.”
Wasting no time, Gloria rose from her chair and collected her monstrous Chanel handbag. Kevin followed suit.
“Blake, please have your business people call mine. I want to put this on the fast track.”
“Will do,” he said brightly as Gloria and Kevin came around the table to shake our hands. The deal was sealed.
Gloria’s duo-colored eyes met mine. Rather than intimidating me as they did when she first arrived, they twinkled with warmth. She smiled.
“Oh, I almost forgot.” She sunk her hand into her purse in search of something. She pulled it out.
My heart skipped a beat. Dangling from Gloria’s palm was Blake’s beautiful necklace with the pink tourmaline heart that I thought I’d lost.
“I found this at the beach house. It’s not mine so I thought it might be yours, Jennifer.”
“N-no, it’s not mine,” I spluttered, tears clustering in the back of my eyes.
“It belongs to me,” Blake said coldly. He snatched the necklace from Gloria and placed it into the breast pocket of his jacket.
Gloria zipped up her bag. “Jennifer, you and Blake make a great team. Make it work. He needs you.”
With a wink, she and Kevin disappeared.
While I’d won Gloria over big time, my victory was fleeting. My high gave way to anxiety. Being alone with Blake knotted up my stomach and had my heart flailing. Filled with the desperate need to get away from him, I pushed myself away from the table.
“Don’t leave.” His voice was a stern command.
I froze.
“We need to talk.”
“About the presentation?”
“No. About us.”
Every muscle in my body tightened. “There’s nothing to talk about.”
“Don’t shut me out, Jen.”
I held back tears. The door to my heart was locked. And it was going to stay that way for a long time. I’d had enough heartbreak in a month to last me a lifetime.
“Would you please hand me my crutches?” My voice was shaky.
“You’re not going anywhere until we talk.”
“Please,” I begged.
“If you don’t open up, I’m going to fuck you right here on this table.”
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me right.”
I trembled at the thought. “My crutches, please.” My voice grew more desperate. I had to get away from him.
“Talk to me, Jennifer.”
“It’s Ms. McCoy. And if you’re not going to get them for me, I’ll just get them myself.”
“Wait—”
There was no waiting. I pushed myself away from the table again and stood up. Hopping on one foot, I headed toward the corner where my crutches were stacked. Blake trailed behind me.
“Damn it, Jen. Let me in.”
Oh, so now he was quoting lines from the movie Frozen. “Get away from me,” I pleaded and hopped faster. Tears were now falling from my eyes. I was worn out and blinded. Halfway across the room, I lost my balance and stumbled. Fuck. I was going to fall flat on my face. In the nick of time, Blake clenched my waist, preventing me from taking an embarrassing and potentially painful spill.
“Hold on to me and I’ll help you get your crutches.” The tone of his voice was soft and repentant.
Reluctantly, I wrapped an arm around his broad shoulder for support and hopped over to my crutches, his hard body grazing mine. A chill followed by a hot flash wound through me.
As I fixed my crutches under my arms, he cornered me, bracing his palms against the walls. He leaned in close to me, holding me prisoner. I could hear his heart drumming with mine and feel the heat of him.
“Jen, I’m sorry for what I did. I feel like an asshole.”
I huffed tearfully. “You are an asshole. A fucking asshole.”
He bowed his head. “I know.”
“Now, please let me go.” My tone was more weary than harsh.
“No, Jennifer. Not until you tell me what kind of game you’re playing.”
“What do you mean?”
“My grandma told me she ran into you the other day, and you told her you’re meshuganah about me.”
“I don’t even know what that means.”
“It means you’re crazy about me. The way I’m crazy about you.”
I narrowed my watering eyes. “I was crazy about you. And you know what? I was even going to forgive you for sending me that vomiticious video until I saw that photo.”
“What are you talking about?”
“That photo of you all over Kitty-Kat in The Hollywood Reporter.”
“Fuck.” He bit down hard on his bottom lip and slapped his forehead. “It—”
I cut him off, my voice venomous. “We’re broken up for not even a week and you’re back to your old ways. I guess once the player, always the player.”
“I swear to God, Jen, it wasn’t like that. You have to believe me.”
Tears stung my eyes. “I don’t know what to believe anymore, Blake, except you excel at deception and breaking hearts.”
“Jesus, Jen. You’re killing me. You’re the only one. I love you, body and soul.” He moved in to kiss me. Our lips touched briefly before I turned my cheek away.
“This is harassment. Let. Me. Go.” My voice was tearful.
Cursing under his breath, he broke away and set me free.
With little satisfaction, I hobbled out of the room.
Chapter 19
Blake
Back in my office, I was numb. Jennifer had absolutely wowed impossibly hard-to-please Gloria with her pitch. She’d done exactly what my father preached. Lined up the three cherries—the right idea, the right time, the right person. She’d done a great job and I hadn’t commended her. Nor had I told her that throughout most of her presentation, I was fantasizing about gathering her in my arms and spreading her across the conference room table and fucking her clever brains out until she admitted she forgave me and begged for more. Makeup sex.
I stared at the little snow globe she’d given me for Christmas. It sat on my desk right next to that Hollywood Reporter. I tossed the damn magazine into my trash can and picked up the globe. I gave it a shake and watched the shimmering flecks of snow dance around the golden ball. Jennifer McCoy had melted my heart, but now it was frozen. It stung like hell.
She had made it clear to me that forgiveness was not in my stars. Damn. Why couldn’t she be more like her animated hero SpongeBob and accept me with my faults? Why couldn’t she trust me? Believe me? Yes, I was seriously flawed, but it didn’t stop me from wanting her and loving her. Setting the snow globe down, I anchored my elbows on my desk and sunk my throbbing head into my palms.
“Son, are you okay?”
My eyes darted to the door to my office. It was my father, back from his trip with my mother to Aruba. He was dressed in one of his impeccably tailored gray suits and sporting a rich tan.
“Hi, Dad,” I mumbled as he strode my way.
“You’re not ill again, are you?” he asked, taking in my feverish eyes and rumpled hair.
I shook my head and loosened the tie around my neck. “Dad, I need to talk to you about something.”
“Let’s go outside. Pour the brandy. I’ve brought you back a fine Cuban cigar.”
One shot of brandy and a half-smoked cigar later, I’d unloaded my relationship with Jennifer on my father. He had the right to know as it could potentially affect Conquest Broadcasting business dealings. He listened intently with very few interruptions. He blew a curl of smoke into the unseasonably mild early evening air as I came to the end of my confession.
“So, I fucked up.”
“It’s not the first time. Is she going to quit?”
“No. She made it clear she wants to continue her job. Her presentation to Gloria Zander was outstanding. Gloria’s Secret is going to sponsor the erotic romance block s
he’s developing, and Gloria even wants to partner with us on a potentially lucrative online venture.”
My father smiled. “I knew she was a winner.”
I slumped in my chair. “I’m the loser.”
“Look at me, Blake.” My gaze met his burly brows.
“I didn’t raise you or your sister to be losers. Win her back. She’s the best thing that’s ever happened to you.”
“But how? She’s totally shut me out.” I poured myself another brandy.
“Let me tell you a story about your mother and me.”
My parents had the perfect marriage. It defied Hollywood expectations. After more than forty glorious years, they still loved each other madly.
“Well, it wasn’t always perfect between the two of us.”
My heart did a little jump. “What do you mean?”
“Well, in my day, I was considered a player too. Except they called it ‘being a ladies’ man.’”
I was all ears as my father recounted the time he had to chase my mother, then a young starlet but more of a drama queen, all the way to New York to prove he was in love with her. She had run back home after catching him with another woman. A rare moment of weakness. He practically bought her a flower shop and stood outside on the stoop of her parents’ house in the pouring rain for two days, banging the door until she caved in. She let him in. The drowned flowers and all. My poor soaked to the bone father came down with pneumonia. Mom took care of him, nursing him back to health. And since then, they’d never been apart or stopped caring about one another.
I was in awe. I never knew that. The point of the story: You’ve got to go after what you want.
He took another puff of his cigar. “My old friend George Carlin once said, ‘Men are stupid; women are crazy. And women are crazy because men are stupid.’”
Words of wisdom for sure.
“Women like slamming doors in our faces. They also like having them opened for them and knocked down.”
Taking a sip of the brandy, I drank in his words.
“Skip Shabbat tonight and be smart. Buy her a dozen roses and go knock down her door.”
THAT MAN: Holiday Box Set Books 1-5 Page 35