by Jamie Wesley
Rage propelled him out of his chair. “You want me to thank you for sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong?”
She made a sound of disgust. “Is that why you didn’t tell anyone I was coming—because your ego was bruised? Get a grip, Alex.”
He slammed his hands on the desk and leaned forward. “Don’t tell me what to do.”
Her eyes battled his. “Why not? You’re acting like a spoiled child throwing a tantrum because he didn’t get to go down the playground slide first. You’re more determined to get me out of Crescendo than land this deal.”
His blood pressure spiked. “You think I don’t want this?” he hissed, leaning closer. “I’ve been working my ass off on this. This was my project, my chance to prove to Mansfield that I have what it takes.”
She matched his movement, storm clouds gathering in her eyes. “You think I don’t have something to prove, too?”
Alex opened his mouth to retort, but nothing came out. Her lips, covered in a red gloss, were close. Too close. Parted like they were waiting for a kiss. His kiss. He would start by concentrating on her luscious, bottom lip. Wait for her moan to continue. If he bent forward another inch…
No. Doing his best to ignore the way the blood in his veins pumped hard and fast, he dragged himself away.
Fliss did the same. She clasped her hands together and cleared her throat. “We…got off track there. As I was saying, you need my help. I want to help. To ease your concern about my reasons for being here, I’ll tell you this. That night when you were telling me about the project, you spoke with such passion about it and your job. It invigorated me. Made me think I’d like to try it.”
She was trying to be civil. If she could try, then so could he. “Thank you,” he said stiffly, ordering his hormones to calm down. Ordering himself to stop noticing her red lips. “You’re right. I need your help.” For now. Later he would take the time to figure out how to regain control of his company. He took a seat. “What do you have in mind?”
Fliss retrieved some papers from her purse. She looked different from last weekend but no less beautiful. Smoking hot, as a matter of fact. The hottest woman he’d ever seen. He was used to seeing her made up for the red carpet or chilled out at home. Today she wore a red silk top tucked into black pants. The clothes concealed, yet accentuated, the curves of her body. Curves he’d once explored. He shifted, searching for a more comfortable position as his pants tightened. His eyes flicked upward. She’d done something with her eye makeup to make her eyes stand out. Her long hair was pulled into a bun.
A raised eyebrow let him know she wasn’t unaware of his perusal and dared him to find fault with her appearance. He refused to take the bait, forcing his smile wider.
“I took some notes on the Farrah script you gave me,” she said.
Yeah, the night they’d… His scowl returned before he could stop it. “I didn’t give that to you.”
She looked down her nose at him. “Well, you didn’t take it when you ran out, either. Besides, you did ask my opinion.”
“Because you showed an interest in the project.”
“I am interested. See, I told you we had some common ground.” She beamed the smile that turned men everywhere into gibbering idiots.
Including him, lately. His heartbeat thundered in his ears. What the fuck was wrong with him? He rubbed a hand across his face, giving himself a second to regain his senses. “I spoke to Phillip Mansfield’s assistant. We have a meeting with him tomorrow at The Ivy.”
“Oh.” Fliss collapsed into the chair behind her with none of her usual grace. Her eyes, usually light with cheer, had darkened with doubt and the slightest hint of fear.
Alex stared at her, completely out of his element. The same way he’d felt at the Hollywood Gives Back event. That night, he’d simply reacted, following her into the hall after witnessing the devastated look on her face she’d tried gamely to hide. Caring about Fliss, who’d forced her way into his company, wasn’t in his playbook, but damn it, he couldn’t ignore the fact that she was hurting. Like that night, all he could think to say was, “Are you okay?”
She dropped her head and began twisting her fingers in her lap. “I’m fine.”
That weak response didn’t reassure him. “You don’t look fine.”
“I said I’m fine.”
“Damn it, Fliss, what’s wrong?” He sounded exasperated. He couldn’t help it. He couldn’t help if he didn’t know what the problem was.
Her head shot up, her eyes now shooting daggers at him. She jumped out of her chair and headed toward the door. “Don’t worry about it. It’s none of your concern.”
“Yes, it is if it affects this deal.” He rose and rounded the desk.
She kept on walking.
“Stop,” he called out, his voice cracking like a whip. “Tell me what’s going on.”
Fliss paused with her hand on the doorknob. “I haven’t been to a place like The Ivy since the divorce was finalized, okay?” The glare she sent over her shoulder dared him to make light of her confession.
Damn, now he felt like an ass. Of course, she wouldn’t want her first time out in public to be at a spot that was always swarming with paparazzi.
Alex rubbed the back of his neck. He still didn’t know what to say. Do. Sympathy wasn’t an emotion he allowed himself to feel when it came to business, especially when it came to someone whose mission in life seemed to be to drive him insane, but he couldn’t forget that hint of self-doubt in her eyes.
“We won’t meet there. We’ll go somewhere else.” He started back to his chair, already thinking of other restaurants that would suit their purposes.
She gripped his arm, stopping him. He glanced down. Her hand slid away, leaving a trail of heat in its wake.
“No, we won’t,” she said forcefully. “I might not be thrilled about going there, but I understand why you are. The publicity. It’s a good idea. Get people talking about and associating Crescendo with the Farrah Blake movie.”
True, but being an insensitive jackass, no matter how unintentional, wasn’t worth it. Not when there was another solution. “We’ll go somewhere else.”
She shook her head. “God, you’re stubborn, but you don’t need to be in this case. I’m supposed to be helping, not hindering. This isn’t about me. If I want to be a businesswoman, then I need to concentrate on business and put the past behind me.”
“Fliss, that place will be a madhouse.”
She nodded. “I know. That’s why you chose it.”
“Are you sure?” Unconvinced, he scrutinized her eyes.
She met his gaze head on, all traces of vulnerability gone. “Yes. You’re not getting rid of me that easily.” She turned on her heel, yanked the door open, and marched out.
That was becoming more and more clear. What the hell was he going to do about it?
CHAPTER FOUR
Fliss stepped out into the hall, full of righteous indignation, ready to put her momentary lapse of confidence behind her and take on the world.
Three pairs of eyes were zeroed in on her. Tim, Pete Ruiz, Alex’s long-time office coordinator, who’d she met a few times before, and a woman. That righteous indignation she was so proud of deserted her like the douchiest of boyfriends. Or ex-husbands.
She pulled up short, the triple-somersaulting butterflies in her stomach stretching their wings in preparation for flight.
“Everyone, I’d like to introduce you to Felicity Chambers.” She jumped at the sound of Alex’s voice, so calm and sure, from behind her.
Get a grip, Fliss.
If he could be calm and sure, then so could she. It didn’t matter that this was his home turf. It was hers now, too. Hadn’t she just told him she wasn’t going anywhere—with righteous indignation, no less?
If she wanted them to believe she was confident, if she wanted to be confident, then she needed to start believing in herself. Now. She stepped forward. Pulled her shoulders back and pasted on a smile. Never let them see you s
weat. Wise words that had seen her through many an audition.
“I know you’re wondering why I’m here and how I got here,” she said. “Let’s get everything out in the open, so we can move on. Yes, I was married to Keith Simms. Yes, I received his stake in Crescendo in the divorce settlement. No, I didn’t have to kill him in order to do so or promise my soul to the devil. Or at least not as far as anyone can prove.”
Her sad attempt at a joke provoked a smile out of two of the three people staring at her. The woman, obviously still reserving judgment, didn’t change her guarded expression, but that was okay. It was a start. She’d take it.
“No, I’m not here to get back at Keith or for any other underhanded purpose the gossip blogs will no doubt dream up,” Fliss continued. “Yes, I’m here to work hard and learn everything I possibly can from you guys. It’s my small hope that you can learn something from me, as well. I bring my own experiences to the table, and I believe all of us working together can build something terrific.” She held up a finger, ecstatic she’d gotten all that out without stumbling over her words. “Oh, wait.”
She popped back into Alex’s office for a second and returned, holding out the white box. “As a blatant bribe, I brought donuts. I almost went with Rolexes but thought that might be a little over the top.”
“That’s okay. Save it for your one-month anniversary,” Pete said.
Fliss laughed, some of her nervousness dissipating. Her laughter flittered away when she noticed she was the only one laughing. She looked up. And sighed. Alex was staring down the other man. Pete took a hasty step back, his grin disappearing off his warm, golden-toned face.
God, Alex could be impossible. This was the Alex she knew and didn’t love. She poked him in the chest. “Lighten up.”
He didn’t back down. Of course he didn’t. No, he glowered at her. “I’m trying to run a business here.”
“So am I. And it would be better for all of us if you got a sense of humor.” She matched him glare for glare, refusing to step away, until Pete coughed. She sent her business partner one more glare before moving around him and holding out her hand. “It’s nice to see you again, Pete.”
Pete snuck a quick peek at Alex before shaking her hand. “Right back atcha.”
Fliss turned to the two others.
“This is Amanda Hughes, the assistant production manager, who started here about four months ago, and you already met Tim. He’s a production assistant,” Alex said.
Amanda, a petite woman with pecan-colored skin, said, “Hi,” in a soft voice tinged with a southern accent, and Tim waved.
“We’re a small but mighty staff,” Pete said.
Fliss nodded. “No doubt. Alex knows how much I admire Crescendo. It’s nice to meet everybody. I can’t wait to get to know you better.”
“The feeling is mutual, believe me.” A flirtatious grin accompanied the comment.
“Pete…” Alex warned.
She stopped herself from rolling her eyes. Pete was harmless. Cute but harmless. Alex was a pain in the ass. “So what’s on today’s agenda?”
“It’s time for the weekly brainstorming session,” Alex said.
“Alex doesn’t like to call it a meeting,” Pete explained.
“It stifles creativity,” Amanda added.
“Okay. Well, let’s do this.” Fliss took a deep breath and followed the others to a small conference room at the front of the office and held back as everyone else headed for a specific chair. Alex sat at the head of the glass table. Left with few options, Fliss sat in the leather chair to his right. She placed the box of doughnuts at the center of the table. Pete and Tim leaped on them like starving wildebeests and grabbed two each. Amanda followed at a more sedate pace, carefully studying the box’s contents before selecting a chocolate glazed donut.
“Alex, do you want one?” Fliss twisted toward him. She would be polite even if it killed her.
“No, I’m good.” He clapped his hands. “Now, if you guys are done feeding your faces, let’s get started. I’ve got some good news.”
“On the Farrah Blake project?” Pete asked after swallowing.
“Yes. I’m happy to announce that everything else we’ve been working on needs to be put on the backburner. We, well, actually Fliss secured a meeting with Phillip Mansfield.”
Tim, Pete, and Amanda looked at her with new respect, sending twin rushes of satisfaction and relief through her.
“How did you manage that?” Amanda asked. “We’ve been spinning our wheels for months.”
“He produced a soundtrack to a movie I did a few years ago,” Fliss said.
“The Love of Money,” Tim said, his first words since their initial meeting.
“Tim is an encyclopedia of movie knowledge,” Alex said.
Fliss nodded. “When Alex told me he was working on the project, I sent the proposal to Phillip, and he called Alex a few days ago. He obviously enjoyed what he read.”
“With any luck, he did like the proposal, but we haven’t secured the rights to the project yet,” Alex said. “We know there are at least two other production companies angling to make the movie, but it’s pointless. They won’t win. Crescendo will.”
So sure. So confident. Fliss didn’t doubt him. Now that he had his chance, he wasn’t going to let it slip through his fingers. It was kind of hot. Really hot. If she were interested in hotness. Which she so wasn’t.
“With that said, we need to come up with the best pitch possible,” he continued. “What do we know about Mansfield?”
“Besides the fact that he’s one of the most influential people in the music business?” Pete asked.
“Yes, besides that,” Alex said dryly.
Pete shrugged, grinning. “Hey, you asked.”
“So I did. Does anyone have anything else to add?” Alex looked around the table.
“I do.” Fliss ordered herself not to fidget as four pairs of eyes swung her way. But surely one crutch would be okay. She grabbed a pen from a silver container at the center of the table and twirled it between her hands. “He likes candy, especially peanut M&Ms.” She shrugged when Alex shot her a come-on look. “What? He does.”
“That’s actually good info, Ms. Chambers,” Tim said.
She beamed, thrilled—and relieved—someone had her back. “Tim, I knew I liked you, but remember, I told you to call me Felicity.”
“Felicity.” Tim nodded, even as red flooded his cheeks.
She tilted her head to the side. “Why don’t you tell my partner here why it’s good to know that Phillip likes M&Ms?”
Tim sat up straighter. “Well, we want him to feel comfortable with us.”
“Exactly.” She angled toward Alex, waving the pen in excitement. “We want to show him that we understand his needs and wants. That we’re paying attention to detail. The same attention we’ll pay to making sure we accurately tell his wife’s story.”
Alex crossed his arms over his chest. “Fine. We’ll bring a jumbo-sized bag of peanut M&Ms to the meeting as a gift. What else?”
“He’s from Chicago. Solidly Midwestern. He understands hard work. He demands it from the people he works with,” Amanda said.
Fliss nodded. “Yes, he’s meticulous. He visited the set of The Love of Money several times to ask the writers and director questions. He wanted to make sure each song on the soundtrack conveyed the right mood.”
“He understands money,” Alex said. “He’s ruthless but fair. We need to appeal to the businessman side of him. This movie will make money. It will be a hit. It’ll be released in December to get maximum exposure to garner Oscar nominations. He’ll like that.”
“He’ll want to know exactly what you have planned,” Fliss said. “Highlight the fact that you wrote the script.”
“Good point. I’ll also mention Crescendo’s accomplishments,” Alex said. “He’s done his own research, I’m sure, but it never hurts to reiterate what we’ve achieved.”
Fliss was loving this. Excitement cour
sed through her veins. This was why she’d wanted to join Crescendo. She was contributing to a project she wholeheartedly believed in. Alex was listening to her. Things were going better than she could have expected. “What about talking about your connection to Farrah and what it means to you to make the movie?”
Alex shook his head in dismissal. “No need. He has the proposal. He knows I plan on treating her realistically but fairly. This meeting is to assure him we plan on making a successful movie. He likes cold, hard facts.”
“Are you sure it’s a good idea to rely on words on paper to express your feelings about Farrah? He’d probably like to hear why you’re going to treat her fairly.”
“No, he doesn’t care about my past. He’s a businessman. He won’t be happy if no one goes to see the movie and it doesn’t make any money.”
She rubbed her forehead with her right hand and carefully considered her next words. “True, but my gut is telling me you should still mention it.”
Alex was already shaking his head before she’d finished speaking. “Fliss, look. I’ve been to a million of these meetings. They want to know the facts. How much money the movie will make. The budget, the direction I plan to go with the script. He won’t care that I grew up in the same neighborhood as his wife. We’re taking the right approach.” His tone made it clear he expected her to drop the subject.
Too bad she wasn’t interested in following his script. Nervousness no longer registered on her radar. She leaned toward him, her eyes battling his across the few feet separating them. “I get no say in the matter?”
“In this case, no.” His voice and gaze remained resolute.
Fliss’s eyes narrowed. “I see. Nice to see you taking other opinions into account.”
“I’m not going to feel bad about making the right decision. I know what I’m doing.”
“And I don’t? Is that what you’re saying?” Her breath quickened as her temper started to boil. No one made her lose her cool like he did. Why was he refusing to let her put her stamp on this deal?
“Don’t put words in my mouth, Fliss.” His voice had quieted, making the words more ominous.