He still couldn’t tell if she’d recognized them or not, but as forthright as she’d been about not having been the one to hire them, he was guessing she hadn’t. And he wasn’t sure if he felt relief or frustration over it.
It didn’t matter either way, he supposed. The marketing plan had been hammered out, and that was the main thing. Of course, they still had to choose models and actors for the various ads, but nevertheless, he felt as if the hard part was finished—as if they’d passed some sort of test with her.
That didn’t stop him from wanting to get to know her better. From wanting to break down her walls and get closer to her. From wanting to unpin her hair from that tight, twisted style and run his fingers through it.
Forcing those thoughts aside, he and Simon discussed her ideas for the kinds of talent she’d like to see representing Minola Essentials.
Catherine picked up her pen more for something to do with her hands rather than from the need to take notes. Daphne had recorded far more detailed information than she could ever dream of doing. But right now, if she didn’t give herself something to do, she’d fidget in her chair or fiddle with her hair. Neither was acceptable. She didn’t want to do anything that could be perceived as flirtatious. Besides, she didn’t like the intense way their tech guy watched her. Unlike Simon and John, he seemed coldly calculating and judgmental.
Dismissing him, she focused on the two men she’d be working with for the next few months. It rankled her that she still couldn’t place them. She’d always had a great memory for faces, but it seemed to be failing her now.
John’s nearly black hair was cropped short, and his dark brown eyes seemed to snap with heat and life. There was an intensity about him that made her want to reach out and smooth her hands across the sometimes-tight line of his lips and the creases that appeared in his forehead as he leaned forward, speaking earnestly.
Simon seemed the more laid back of the two. Quick to laugh or crack a joke, his smile brightened the entire room and sent butterflies careening through her abdomen. His hair was just as dark, but slightly longer, and a lock of it kept drooping over his forehead, hiding his hazel eyes. It was nearly impossible to keep from reaching out and brushing it from his eyes.
Simon shrugged off his jacket and draped it over the back of his chair. As he stood, he lifted his shoulder as if to straighten out a kink in his neck. A sense of déjà vu skated up her spine. She glanced at his face then John’s. College. That’s where she knew them from. They’d been in several of her business classes, always competing with each other and her. They’d also been the cause of one of her greatest humiliations. She hadn’t thought about it in so long that it was almost as if it had never occurred. And that was the beauty of repression. But now, the embarrassment rushed back as if it had happened yesterday.
Anger tightened her fists, but she forced her fingers to unclench. She couldn’t believe she hadn’t recognized them sooner. It had been over ten years, she supposed. They’d both filled out, broad shoulders, narrow waists, some laugh lines around the eyes and maybe a few gray hairs here and there. Age looked good on both of them. But why wouldn’t it? Everything had always looked good on both of them.
She’d had to work her ass off for good grades in classes they’d aced even after sleeping through the majority of them. She’d constantly fought to prove herself to the business department to get internships and work-study projects while Simon and John had basically had everything handed to them. At least, that was the way it had appeared.
They’d annoyed her then, but she hadn’t disliked them. In fact, it had been just the opposite. She’d had mad crushes on both of them but had always been too reserved to do anything about it. And unlike her little sister, she didn’t feel the need to spend the majority of her college years dating through frat house after frat house, determined to sample every available guy—and knowing Bianca—even some unavailable ones.
Catherine had known that dating would only distract her from her ultimate goal of graduating and eventually taking over her father’s company. It had been clear from the beginning that her sister had had no real interest in the business as long as it funded her myriad activities.
Sometimes Catherine regretted not experimenting more when she was younger. Now, she had no idea if men were actually interested in her or in the family company. Daphne had been haranguing her to try the anonymous world of internet dating, but so far, Catherine hadn’t made the time. To be honest, she didn’t really have the guts, either. Her direct, and sometimes brash, personality didn’t sit well with a lot of men, and well…rejection sucked.
Now, if she were more like Bianca, it would be a different matter. Of course, if she were more like Bianca, she wouldn’t be considering a dating site, at all. She wouldn’t need to. But it didn’t matter. The company was the most important thing to Catherine—as was proving to her father that she could run it. She didn’t have time for relationships.
These were the things Catherine told herself, anyway. The truth was she didn’t have half the confidence that Bianca did. At least, not where guys were involved. She was marginally more secure now, but in college? No way. She’d shied away from anything resembling dates. But she’d still gone when John and Simon had invited her to a party at their frat house. And what a nightmare that had turned out to be. She’d been such a naïve little idiot. At least, Facebook hadn’t been in existence at the time, but pictures had still circulated. Humiliating pictures that had ended up on the front page of their fraternity website.
Pushing aside the mortifying rush of memories, she forced her attention back to the present and focused on the PowerPoint presentation John and Simon had put together. She had to give them credit for including women of all ages and ethnicities in their product modeling pool. They seemed to have a slightly better grasp on what she was hoping to do with this campaign than any other agency she’d spoken with prior to her father dropping P & V in her lap. And as an added bonus, they hadn’t tried the superhero angle.
She sighed. She just couldn’t believe she was going to have to work with these guys.
However, neither of them seemed to remember her, let alone what had happened that night. She took a deep breath. It was for the best. This could just be a normal business arrangement between two companies without anything personal mucking up things. Straightening, she took haphazard notes on dates for the promotional blitz. The memories still niggled at her, but she’d had years’ worth of practice at pretending to be completely engaged.
Catherine discreetly checked her watch. One task almost complete, and packing was next up on the list. She had to admit, her father had actually chosen an excellent company to work with. Granted, it was pure, dumb luck on his part, but these guys had definitely impressed her with the depth of their planning and their close attention to detail. There was no way this marketing campaign could fail. She was sure of it.
Despite her unfortunate connection with them, they really did seem to be the best people for the job. Now, if she could just keep uncomfortable memories from rising to the surface, she’d be all set. She checked the time again. As much as she’d prefer to spend the weekend working on the vitamin campaign, she had far more tedious issues to attend to. And there were plenty of ways she could fail her sisterly duties this weekend if she didn’t get her butt in gear.
The receptionist buzzed in, alerting Daphne to a phone call. She left the room, leaving Catherine with a perfect segue way to end the meeting. She pushed to her feet, and the men followed suit. “I hate to have you pitch and leave, but I’ve got another appointment soon.”
“Of course,” John said. “It was lovely talking with you.”
She thought he might have paused a bit before he’d said talking, but she wasn’t sure.
Gesturing toward the reception area, she said, “If you’ll make an appointment with my scheduling secretary, I’d like to meet with you again next week, if you have time available.”
“Absolutely,” John said, his deep v
oice rumbling through her.
Simon took her hand, though it felt more like a caress than a handshake. “Looking forward to it.”
The butterflies she’d managed to control for the last hour or so were back. She mentally frowned at herself. She needed to get over this reaction damn quick if she was going to work with them. Hell, she was, for all intents and purposes, their boss.
“I don’t know if you remember us,” John began.
Catherine froze, icy realization settling over her. The butterflies dropped like deadweights into the pit of her stomach. They did remember. She forced herself to look each of them in the eye. “I do, actually. And if you mention it again, you can consider this contract rescinded.”
The chill in her voice was unmistakable. Surprise widened their eyes, and for a moment, heavy silence blanketed the room.
Lips pressed tightly together, she disengaged and headed for her office. Grateful for the lack of windows, she flopped down in her chair and closed her eyes. What had started out being an uncomfortable work situation was quickly turning into an untenable one. She couldn’t believe she’d just threatened them like that. They’d signed the contract. She was stuck with them.
The door to her office clicked open, and Daphne slipped inside.
“Well, well, well,” her friend said as soon as the door shut. “Looks like Daddy picked a winner after all.”
Catherine rolled her eyes. She thought about telling Daphne everything, but really, the fewer people who knew the better. Besides, she needed to get on her game face for the weekend of doom. “He got lucky. Damn lucky. But, yeah. I think they’ll do a good job.”
“I think they’re both willing to do a good job on more than the account.” Daphne raised her eyebrows as she pointedly surveyed Catherine.
“I swear, some days you’ve got the mentality of a fourteen-year-old boy.”
The other woman bowed at the waist. “At your service.” Straightening with a grin, she handed Catherine her purse and briefcase. “Now, get out of here before you’re late for Princess Perfect’s Perfect Nuptials.”
“You sure you won’t reconsider coming along as my date?”
Daphne wrinkled her nose. “Oh hell no. Not this girl. No way. No how. I’ve got two weeks of vacation coming, and my plane leaves tonight.”
Catherine laughed. “Well, if you’re sure…”
“Positive. Now, get out of here. I expect all the details when I get back. Or, you know, text if there’s something really juicy that can’t wait.”
“Keep your phone handy. It’s Bianca. There’ll be something worth reporting.”
Chapter Three
“Wait…you guys know her? From where?” Tyler asked. “W. T. F?”
Simon scowled at his cousin. The guy was such a pain in the ass. Promise to his aunt or not, Simon would have to fire the guy if he didn’t shape up.
“A long time ago,” John said absently. “College.”
Tyler laughed. “What’d you do? Hook up with her and then not call?”
Simon shot his cousin a look. “We’re in a client’s office. Leave it alone.”
“A simple yes or no would suffice.” His cousin smirked.
“It’s none of your damn business,” Simon bit out. “Just shut up, already.”
“Whatever, chief.”
In silence, they finished packing up their presentation supplies as Simon fought the urge to go after Catherine. He’d seen the flash of hurt in her eyes before she’d masked it with ice-cold bitchiness. Not that he could blame her. She’d been humiliated. And no matter how many times they’d apologized after that night and tried to make it right, she’d never spoken to them again—until this meeting. It looked as if they were back at the beginning with her. He stifled the urge to sigh. This ought to make the long weekend at her family’s home extra exciting.
Once he and John were back at the office and Tyler was safely ensconced in his cubicle, they sat down in their own conference room.
John thunked his head against the back of the chair. “I’m not sure I could have fucked that up any worse if I’d tried.”
Simon grimaced. “It could always be worse.”
“Thanks.”
“Look,” Simon offered. “We’ll make it up to her somehow this weekend, okay?”
“Awww, look at you—all optimistic and shit. Did you see the look on her face? I’m not sure there’s any way to make things better.”
“Fantastic,” Simon muttered. He’d always had a major thing for her in college. He was pretty sure John had, too. For a while, he’d actually thought he had a chance with her—until the night she’d stopped talking to both of them. She’d always been a little prickly, and she’d developed a reputation for being a bitch, but he’d always preferred to think of her as assertive. If her business standing was anything to go by, it seemed none of that had changed much. He’d actually considered asking her out after the wedding was over, but he couldn’t imagine that happening now. That ship had not only sailed, but it had also sunk.
Catherine tossed her briefcase and purse in the chair in the corner of her room and dragged her luggage from her closet. She quickly placed her clothes and toiletries in the suitcase and zipped a couple dresses into the garment bag. Bianca loved hosting formal dinners, so there was bound to be at least one in addition to the post-wedding meal.
The invitations had said to be prepared for anything, so she added tennis shoes, jeans and a hoodie, too. At least, the weather was too chilly for swimming. She’d be spared from having to parade around in a bathing suit.
The buzzer to her apartment sounded, startling her from where she stood contemplating the contents of her underwear drawer.
“Ms. Minola?” The doorman’s voice sounded tinny through the tiny speakers.
“Yes?”
“Your driver, Henry, is here for you.”
Her driver? “Damn it, Bianca!”
“Pardon, Ms. Minola?”
She stifled a sigh. “I’m so sorry. Please tell him I’ll be right down. And thank you.”
“You’re welcome, ma’am.”
Catherine pulled the files for the new line from her briefcase and stuffed them into her suitcase. If she were lucky, she might be able to escape the festivities for a while and get some work done.
She couldn’t believe her sister had sent the driver for her. Bianca knew she preferred to drive herself. Quickly zipping her suitcase, she extended the handle, slung her purse over her shoulder and grabbed the bag with her dresses. She didn’t want to keep Henry waiting any longer than necessary.
The elevator down to the ground floor seemed to take forever—almost as if it knew how desperately she didn’t want to go and was taking its sweet time in solidarity. When the door whooshed open, she saw Henry standing outside the town car, waiting to help her inside.
As annoyed as she was at Bianca for not trusting her to get there on her own, she was glad to see Henry. He’d always been a grandfather figure to her and her sister. He was one of the truly wonderful things about life at the compound. In fact, he’d been the one to teach her to drive. Her father had been far too busy running his company for that.
As soon as she cleared the revolving doors, Henry stepped forward with a huge smile and took both the suitcase and the garment bag from her hands and tucked them into the car. As soon as he turned toward her again, she stood on her toes and kissed his cheek.
“Miss Catherine, it’s so lovely to see you.”
It was a testament to how much she adored the man that she didn’t reprimand him for calling her Miss Catherine. She hated that. So much.
After he settled her into the car, Henry merged into traffic and headed toward the highway that led to the lakeshore. Leaning back against the plush headrest, she let her eyes fall closed.
“Your sister’s got the place in a huge uproar,” Henry said from the front seat.
“Color me surprised,” she said without opening her eyes. “Let me guess, everything is swathed in pink
fabric, and she’s spinning in circles freaking out while Cameron and my father try to calm her down and everyone else runs to do her bidding?”
Henry chuckled. “That’s about the size of it.”
“Why couldn’t she have a normal, one-day wedding like everyone else?”
“Have you ever known Miss Bianca to be like everyone else?” Henry asked, affection for her younger, misguided sister clear in his voice. “You look worn out. I’ll be quiet so you can get a little nap before we get there. I don’t expect you’ll have much time to rest afterward.”
Catherine couldn’t argue with that. Despite packing files to look over, she fully expected to be on Bianca patrol most of the time. She sighed. It wasn’t that she didn’t love her sister. She did. It was just that they were two, vastly different people with virtually nothing in common, and ninety percent of the time, Bianca exhausted her.
To be fair, everything exhausted her lately. Daphne nagged her constantly about developing interests that had nothing to do with the business, but Catherine could never make the time for it. She knew that a big part of the reason her friend had been pushing internet dating was because she figured it would force Catherine to take some time away from the company and do something different. To go out and have some fun. If Daphne had her way, Catherine would be out with a different guy every week.
Even though Catherine had tried to put them out of her head, she found herself thinking about the guys she’d be working with for the better part of the next year. It had been a long time since she’d found herself attracted to any man, let alone two of them at once. With their shared history, they were the last thing she needed to think about in that context. Not that she planned to do anything with either one of them. But she could certainly fantasize. They were probably married or involved. Even if they weren’t, she wasn’t the kind of woman guys typically went for. Plain and opinionated didn’t tend to be a winning combination as far as most men in were concerned. At least, not the ones who weren’t more interested in her family’s company than they were in her.
Two for the Shrew (As We Like It Anthology) Page 2