“Breathe,” Jamie hisses quietly, reaching out and placing her hand over my shaking forearm. She squeezes it gently and I try to pull large breaths deep down into my lungs. The room is bustling as the rest of the agency’s employees filter in. Hushed conversations and small bouts of laughter fill the space as everyone settles into the remaining chairs around the conference room table. I focus on Jamie’s hand on my arm and continue to breathe steadily.
“Everyone!” Mr. Williams—the owner of Williams Global Advertising, the company I work for—announces as he comes bounding into the room, holding a small stack of papers. “I want you to meet Andrew McPherson, owner and CEO of AM Advertising who, as of this morning, procured Williams Global Advertising.”
Drew moves from behind me and walks over to the head of the table where the now former owner of our advertising agency, Kevin Williams, stands, a sad look in his eyes.
“Holy shit,” Jamie mumbles next to me. “Mr. McPherson purchased Williams Global. . .”
I don’t even hear what Mr. Williams says after that. All I know is that Drew—Andrew McPherson—is the man I slept with last night…and the man I slept with last night is now my new boss.
* * *
I stab my salad aggressively with the metal fork before I shake the lettuce I just stabbed off of my fork and back into the bowl. “Why don’t places that serve salads cut the lettuce up into smaller, bite-sized pieces? It’s annoying,” I question before finally shoving the bowl aside. I don’t have an appetite anyway, let alone the desire to try to shove giant pieces of lettuce into my mouth.
Jamie takes a bite of her sandwich and sits back in her chair, dabbing the corners of her lips with a napkin before she speaks. “Because bigger pieces of lettuce make the bowl look fuller. That’s how they cheap out on their salads.”
I don’t know why, but I laugh. A loud belly laugh.
“It’s why I eat sandwiches. More bang for my buck.” She smiles and winks at me. How she can eat a sandwich and not mess up her lipstick is a damn mystery and a beauty trick she needs to trademark. Also, the fact she can eat bread and not gain an ounce of weight is almost as annoying as the big lettuce chunks in my salad. She’s tall and lean, and I’m tall and curvy, a size ten to her four. She’s got boobs and I have hips. She’s blonde and I’m brunette. We’re polar opposites on almost every possible level, but she’s my person and I’m so thankful for her.
After the meeting this morning, I all but ran from the conference room to my desk, where I thankfully had a deluge of voicemails and emails waiting for me to return. News spread fast in the advertising world about the sale of the East Coast’s smallest, but most premier, advertising and marketing firm to the West Coast’s largest and most premier firm. It was a sale that was kept so quiet, no one in the industry knew it was happening, and everyone is still reeling with the news.
“So Jeff said after lunch we’re having another meeting where Mr. McPherson is going to share the go-forward organizational structure. Guess we’ll find out if we still have jobs then,” Jamie says, tossing her napkin on her empty plate.
The thought of losing my job makes me nauseous. I pinch my eyes closed. I cannot lose my job. My mom depends on the small amount I’m able to send her each month.
Jaime senses my mood and reaches across the table and squeezes my shaking hand. “Hey, don’t stress. If anything happens, we’ll land on our feet at another agency. People salivate over Williams Global employees.”
She’s right. Mr. Williams runs—or, ran—a top-notch, professional, and highly-profitable advertising agency. He built this agency from scratch and employs only the best. He pays us decently, treats us well, and the clients we bring in are a direct result of his employees and his no-nonsense approach of not having the biggest agency in New York City, but the best.
It’s just the stress of knowing one missed paycheck could utterly destroy me. Student loans, credit card debt, and the cost of living in New York City, even in a small, shitty, gross Brooklyn apartment takes every last cent I earn. And the guilt of not being able to help my mom brings tears to my eyes.
“We’re going to be fine,” Jamie reassures me, and I try to calm my inner hysteria. “We have to get back. Meeting starts in fifteen minutes.” She pushes herself up from the small metal table of the café that Jamie eats at nearly every day. I join her when I have an extra few dollars, which isn’t that often.
“Thank you for my birthday lunch.” I look down at the uneaten salad and feel guilty I didn’t eat it. I’m not really in the position to turn down meals, but I’m so anxious from Drew’s appearance this morning, the thought of food in my belly makes me want to vomit.
“You’re welcome.” Jamie reaches out and laces her arm through mine as we walk down the crowded Manhattan street and back toward our office.
Three
I rub the heels of my palms over my eyes, trying to shove back the headache I can feel coming on. Forty-eight hours ago, Kevin Williams asked me to buy his company, Williams Global Advertising. He had recently been diagnosed with terminal cancer, a diagnosis no one knows about except for me and our team of lawyers, and the call to purchase his company came at a bittersweet price.
Mr. Williams wanted someone with integrity and a good reputation to take over his company, while allowing his wife to be financially stable after his passing. His request was unmistakably hard, but a sense of peace in his tone made the decision easy. He was asking me for a favor, a favor I could help him with. My father worked for Kevin Williams twenty or more years ago, and Mr. Williams taught him everything he needed to know about marketing, advertising, and public relations, which he then passed down to me. To say Mr. Williams has been a trailblazer in this industry would be an understatement.
Williams Global and AM Advertising have always been friendly competitors, but I was honored that, of all the qualified people in this business, he asked me to purchase his agency...his legacy. I’ve been wanting to expand to the East Coast and this was the perfect opportunity to purchase a company that is not only profitable, but is also a perfect fit culturally with AM Advertising. He’s basically handing me millions of dollars in profitable clients and one of the strongest employee bases in the industry.
Within twenty-four hours of that phone call, our lawyers had worked up the purchase agreement and the funds were wired. Twelve hours later, I was on a cross-country flight headed to New York. The next few hours were a blur of quiet celebration, meetings, and subsequently bedding the most beautiful girl I’ve ever met. Grace.
Tall and curvy, with hazel eyes that are more green than brown, and a smile that literally made my knees weak. It’s rare that I pick up women in a bar. Hell, it’s rare I pick up women at all, but something about her called to me. I needed her, and somehow, I felt like she needed me as well. Two consenting adults who needed to get lost in each other for one night. That was the deal, until I saw her this morning.
Now I want more. Need more.
It was supposed to be one night where I freed myself of the expectations I constantly put on myself. The long hours, the pressure to keep my business successful, a leader in the industry, while keeping my reputation squeaky clean. She wasn’t the typical “bar bitch” trying to get in my wallet through my pants. The only thing she asked of me was my first name. Not what my career was, not where I was from, or what my parents’ names were. She wasn’t trying to forge a connection through one of those as a means to my money, and that I fucking appreciated more than anything. She’s honest and humble and…gorgeous to boot.
Over a few drinks, we exchanged first names and that was it. The conversation was just like her. Simple. Casual. Beautiful. I didn’t expect her to be gone when I woke this morning, and I sure as hell didn’t expect her to work for Williams Global. The look on her face when she saw me this morning was a cross between shock and utter disbelief. I’ll never forget the way her lips fell apart like she was going to say something, but the words were caught in her throat.
I didn’t
miss her dig at me about her name. Gracie. Only her friends call her Gracie. She wants me to call her Grace, because that would mean our relationship is strictly professional. Only Gracie doesn’t realize we’ll never be professional because I’ve seen every part of her. I’ve seen her fall apart in my arms and underneath me. I’ve felt every inch of her—and now I want more. I’ve felt every inch of her, every fucking soft curve, every hard peak, and I want it all over again.
I run a hand through my hair and stand, yanking up the laptop with the presentation I’ve prepared from my desk, and carry it to the conference room. Meeting number two for the day. I hope this eases the fears I saw splayed across the faces of the Williams Global employees this morning, as I lay out the direction for our new combined company.
The conference room is unnervingly quiet and the tension in the air is palpable. Everyone sits quietly, and hushed conversations suddenly stop when they notice I’ve entered the room. Grace sits in the same chair she was in this morning, her fingers laced tightly, all balled up in her lap. She won’t make eye contact with me, and something about that makes me smile. She’s affected by me. Something about that excites me and also calms me; however, the other faces around the conference room table display anxiety and stress. I should have gone over the details with the staff this morning, but I wanted to be one-hundred percent prepared and have a game plan that made sense. My company is nothing if my people aren’t happy.
“Good afternoon,” I say, clearing my throat and unbuttoning my suit jacket. I shrug it off and roll up the sleeves of my black dress shirt. The same shirt I wore yesterday because Gracie stole the one I intended to wear today, and she looks hot as fuck in it.
She pulled it off, I’ll give her that. The buttons she left undone at the top tease me as I barely make out the tops of her round, full breasts. Pulling my attention away from Gracie, I launch the PowerPoint presentation that projects brightly onto the large screen just off to my side.
“I first want to apologize for not going over all of the details with you this morning. I know the news of this acquisition came as a surprise to you all, and that’s not normally how I operate.” I wiggle my necktie, loosening it. “Honestly, it was just as much of a surprise to me.”
Mr. Williams sits in the back of the conference room, not at the table, but in a chair behind everyone. He looks grateful, yet somber. I can’t imagine what he’s feeling right now, and my gut twists when I think about why I’m here. “First, I want you to know how honored I am to be acquiring Williams Global. The vision and values of Williams Global align perfectly with AM Advertising, and I just know we’re going to be the leading force in advertising, marketing, and public relations both coast-to-coast and internationally.
“Second, there will be no displacements.” You can actually hear the sighs of relief when I say that. “There is a place for everyone in this acquisition. The work isn’t going anywhere and we won’t be doing any consolidating. In fact, I presume we’ll end up needing to hire additional personnel. Typically, when two great companies come together, we see an uptick in client acquisition.”
I do my best to not focus my attention on Gracie. She sits straight and tall, her hands still locked together. Her long, dark hair falls over the front of her shoulder, resting right above her breasts, which draws my attention back to the open collar of the shirt she’s wearing, my shirt. I catch her gaze and her eyes dart away.
I clear my throat and continue. “As you may know, AM Advertising is headquartered in San Francisco and we have a public relations branch in Los Angeles. Nothing will change with those two locations. New York City will still operate out of this same Midtown office. We’re updating leases today, and we expect no change in physical real estate here.
“Our new company name will be AM Global. It made sense that in blending two powerhouse companies, a piece of each name was appropriate to maintain. This will take some time to change legally, but I’d like you to use that name immediately on all customer correspondence, including email signatures.”
I see a sea of heads nodding and taking notes, except for Gracie, who watches me carefully. Studying me. Looking at me and through me. I hold her gaze before she finally looks away, a blush spreading across her face. I continue to go through each slide, showing the layout and structure of our new combined company, and a sense of excitement builds inside me.
“My plan was to be bi-coastal—splitting my time between New York and San Francisco—until I find someone, or, I determine who will manage the New York office,” I announce with a smirk. “But I’ve decided that I’ll mostly be in New York until we get everything fully operational, so get used to seeing me around. San Francisco is a machine at this point. That office basically runs itself, so I believe I should be here in New York, with all of you.” I smile and see heads nodding again. At this comment, I see Grace’s shoulders rise and she inhales sharply, sharing a quick look with her friend who sits next to her.
That’s right. I’m fucking staying. Get used to me.
I continue, “There will be an opportunity for anyone in New York who would like to relocate to San Francisco to do so, and vice versa. I’d just ask that requests be emailed to me so that we can address real estate needs and/or limitations in each office.”
Everyone sits with looks of disbelief on their faces and it makes me smile. I’m not the asshole they expected me to be. “Los Angeles will continue to be our public relations hub, and since Williams Global did not staff publicists, nothing will change at that location, including management. Aaron Maxwell, who many of you may be familiar with, will continue to manage the L.A. office.” A low chuckle rolls through the room and I pause, thinking of the public relations office and Aaron, who is consistently in the tabloids managing all the shit his clients get him into. He can continue managing that office and keep his dick wet with all the L.A pussy he wants, but Gracie and New York are mine. Aaron has a name and a very public reputation for being a Hollywood playboy in the PR world…as long as he stays in L.A. and away from us, everything will be just fine. If Aaron took one look at Gracie, I know he’d try to bed her. Fuck that. Not this time; she’s mine. “As needs arise, we’ll add more publicists, but only in L.A.” Thank God, Gracie isn’t a publicist and won’t request a position in L.A.
I stifle back a small laugh when I remember Kevin Williams telling me he didn’t play in the public relations game, that he had no desire to clean up other people’s shit all day long. No truer statement has ever been made; however, we have celebrity clientele, some of Hollywood’s A-list actors and actresses, athletes, and some of the music industry’s biggest names as our clients. There’s a need for good publicists; it’s an extremely profitable business, and I have the best publicists in the country, including Aaron, so for me, it makes sense to keep the public relations arm of my business operating as is.
I close my laptop, which ends the presentation, and I take a deep breath, finally relaxing as I sense a new energy in the room. “A press release should be in your email as soon as this meeting is over. You are free to share that with your clients. Everything is status quo. Nothing changes. Meetings stand. Also, creatively, absolutely nothing changes. Keep your clients happy. Allow them to ask questions and answer them honestly. We expect zero impact to clients as we merge these companies, other than the name on the check they write to us.”
I get a small bit of laughter from that comment and the tension in the room seems to have dissipated. “As far as I’m concerned, it’s business as usual. I expect you all to continue to deliver the same quality work you always have: on-time, on-budget, and with superior attention to detail. My reputation is only as good as the people who work for me, which is why I agreed to this deal. You’re the best of the best.” I peer around the room at the happy faces and my eyes land on Gracie’s before she looks away.
The room hums with excitement and any nervousness I had about this deal begins to vanish. “I look forward to building an even better combined company with AM Global.
Thank you for allowing me to lead you. I won’t take any more of your time, but know that I have an open-door policy. Any questions you have, please come to me and ask. If I’m unavailable in person, please email me.”
With that, the room bustles with people gathering their things and preparing to leave. I clear my throat and make one more announcement. “Grace Morgan, if you could stay, I’d like to speak with you separately.” I grin at my own brazenness.
Gracie freezes in place before offering me a quick nod. The room clears, but she doesn’t move a muscle. She makes no attempt to move closer to me, so I make the move, sauntering across the room to her. Gracie was so very wrong when she thought last night was going to be a one-time deal. I plan to have many more nights like last night, starting with tonight.
Four
I finally get the courage to stand up. I won’t have him standing over me as I sit in a chair; I won’t give him that power. As I hear the conference room door shut, Drew stalks across the room toward me. A lion hunting his prey. Prey that is too scared to even try to flee its predator. The glass-encased conference room makes it easy for everyone to watch us, and I can feel their penetrating gazes.
My legs shake underneath me and I will myself to breathe. Three deep breaths from me and four long strides from Drew before he’s standing mere inches in front of me. Too close. So close, I can smell his sweet, familiar cologne and I see his full upper lip twitch as he holds back a smirk. I swallow hard and my heart beats wildly against my ribcage when he takes another small step forward, close enough I can feel the heat from his body. A power play. I’ve seen this shit before.
“Everyone can see us, and yes, they’re watching,” I manage to muster through my dry mouth.
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