by Tawny Weber
“Petty party planning?” Spence laughed. “You know better than that, right?”
“Of course I do. But in my experience, big bad alpha guys who focus on the safety and well-being of others tend to be somewhat dismissive of what I do,” she told him, her shrug doing nothing to dismiss the hurt she felt over that attitude.
“Maybe all your experience is with the wrong kind of guys.”
Those big brown eyes melted like chocolate in the hot sun, her expression both curious and considering. A soft smile played over her lips, making him wonder what he’d need to do with that mouth to make consideration overcome her curiosity.
Off-limits, he reminded himself, forcing his thoughts in a different direction.
“Either way,” he said abruptly, “I’m here. I’m going in with you. We’ll make it work.”
Irritation chilled the warm admiration in her gaze.
Good.
He didn’t want her thinking he was anything special. Fighting the battle of his own interest in her was challenge enough. Fighting it on two fronts would be nearly impossible.
“You’re right. This will work,” she decided, and then tapped her fingers on the leather portfolio, her short, clear nails making a determined rat-a-tat-tat. “But if at any time I get the feeling that Señor Alcosta would be more comfortable with you not there, I’ll give you a signal to step out. We’ll use a code word.”
“A code word?”
“Yes, a code word. If at any point, I think it’d be better if you leave so I can finish the presentation, I’ll mention the weather. You know, like ‘It’s been a warm day,’ or ‘Isn’t it sunny out?’ Whatever seems natural to the conversation.”
“Whatever seems natural?”
“Exactly.” Mia’s smile made it clear she knew he hated the idea and didn’t care. “You can handle that, right?”
Orders.
Spence was used to taking them.
Taking them from two conflicting sources was a new experience, though. It was going to take a little adjustment.
Before he could voice the agreement he knew Mia expected, another tight-faced assistant stepped into the room.
“Señor Alcosta is ready to see you now.”
Alcosta’s office was even heavier on the ornateness than his reception area. Bloodred rugs thick enough to sink their feet. Thick-topped tables covered in urns of flowers edged the walls, and a dark gilt-edged desk, heavy on the curlicues and big enough for an orgy, dominated the room. Alcosta rose from a black leather chair, sweeping around the desk with a smile that gleamed as brightly as the mirrors covering one wall.
He barely spared Spence a glance, instead focusing on Mia like a laser.
“Ms. Cade,” Alcosta greeted. He took her hand in both of his, held it for an irritatingly long second before lifting it to his mouth.
For the first time in his life, Spence wished he carried a handkerchief. He needed something to wipe the smarm off Mia’s knuckles.
“Señor Alcosta, I’d like to introduce my assistant and head of security, Spencer Lloyd,” Mia said after she’d extracted her hand and returned the man’s greeting.
“Mr. Lloyd,” Alcosta said with a chilly inclination of his head, before focusing on Mia again. “I’m certain that with your skill and knowledge, you are more than capable of impressing me with your plans, Ms. Cade. There was no need to bring the hired help.”
Hired help?
Ouch, Spence thought with a grin.
“Given the amount of money we’re targeting, I’ve planned the events around a very exclusive guest list, including my uncle.” Mia’s smile was pure charm, her voice holding the same level of persuasion that Spence imagined sirens had used to lure sailors to their deaths.
Alcosta’s face certainly lit up, a cunning sort of greed replacing the lust in his eyes.
“Your uncle would attend?”
“I can’t guarantee his attendance,” Mia said, patting her hand in the air as if to tamp down Alcosta’s excitement. “But given that I’ll be inviting him, I wanted to ensure that every event takes the possibility of his presence into account. Hence, a focus on security.”
Well, that won Alcosta over. As the man waved a hand toward a trio of leather chairs grouped around a low glass table, Spence made a mental note to check into whomever Mia’s uncle was later.
“Please. Be seated. Both of you.”
Like Alcosta, Spence waited for Mia to settle in one of the plush club chairs before deliberately moving one of the others closer to her and taking his own seat.
After a brief moment, Alcosta took the third seat, angling it so Mia could get the full impact of his questionable charm. He offered her a friendly smile before turning his gaze on Spence. His eyes were like a snake’s. Cold, black and assessing, as if he were deciding just where to strike.
Spence smiled.
Message received.
He’d seen that look on men’s faces before. Men who considered him the enemy.
Good.
Winning the battle was all the sweeter when the opponent put up a good fight.
* * *
Mia wasn’t sure what was going on, but she felt a lot like a juicy bone sitting between two big, hungry dogs. And while Spence had barely said a word, it sure seemed like he was winning. Tension wound tightly in her belly, because Alcosta didn’t strike her as a gracious loser.
And he’d already lost to Spence once, even though he didn’t know it. Biting her lip, she slid a sideways glance at her companion. As glad as she was to have him as a buffer between her and Alcosta, she hoped having him here wasn’t a mistake.
Oh, not in the way Jessica had said. She had enough faith in her negotiating skills to handle any shifting dynamics. At least, she did, as long as she was focused and at the top of her game. Which was why she was worried this was a mistake. How could she focus on anything when Spence was sitting there, looking so gorgeous?
Obviously a man who took business casual seriously, he’d paired a dark blue dress shirt and tie in the same hue with a pair of crisp jeans and boots. His hair glinted mahogany with just a hint of curl, and unlike yesterday his face was shaved clean of that sexy scruff.
He lounged more than sat in the chair, his body at ease and his expression mellow. But Mia still felt like he was ready to pounce. As if the smallest thing would set him off.
Like yesterday. She’d spent the entire night replaying that kiss, and she still couldn’t figure out what’d triggered that. And she was desperate to know. After all, without knowing why he’d done it, how could she get him to do it again?
Which wasn’t what she should be thinking about now, she reminded herself, forcing herself to ignore the tingling brought on by the memory of Spence’s mouth on hers.
She was here to wow Alcosta so he’d sign off on her plans, give her a big, fat check and let her get to work. She wasn’t here to obsess about her assistant/security specialist/fake boyfriend.
Thankfully, dangling her uncle’s name as a potential guest seemed to have caught Alcosta’s attention enough that he hadn’t noticed her slip into fantasyland while he’d taken his seat.
“Please show me your brilliant plan, Ms. Cade. I’m looking forward to cementing our relationship in both pleasure and profit.”
Mia felt rather than saw Spence’s disdain, but her own smile didn’t falter. Cheesy comments, leering looks and horrible decorating taste aside, the man was her client. Her very wealthy, if slightly eccentric, going-to-launch-her-to-success-with-his-huge-event client.
With that in mind, she opened her portfolio and offered Señor Alcosta the embossed folder that contained her proposal, both in bullet points and in detail with enough information to make her plan very clear. The proposal was deliberately vague on specifics like vendor names or contact information.
Mia had heard plenty of stories of wealthy
clients stealing a planner’s event ideas, their vendor contacts and even their staff. Señor Alcosta seemed like a nice enough guy, but her daddy hadn’t raised a fool.
As he leafed through the folder, she began her pitch. Despite the older man’s neutral expression throughout, it only took the ten-minute overview for her to see she’d hit a bull’s-eye. Not just because he began nodding so much that he looked like a bobblehead, but because he’d made enough notes throughout the folder to assure her that he was enthusiastic.
It was all Mia could do not to bounce in her seat as she finished the broad overview of her plan.
“I think these five luxury-retreat-themed events over a three-day weekend will not only impress the donors into digging deep into their pockets, but by offering both a weekend price point and individual event tickets, we’ll draw a much larger guest list than if the weekend were billed as a single event.”
“Mmm, yes, as you say, that’s a clever plan,” Alcosta agreed. “But what of the time constraints? Will this not cause an issue with attracting enough patrons? As I’m sure you recall, there is a deadline looming, in barely over a month my company will lose the property, as well as the entirety of our hard-earned bureaucratic support, unless the five-million-dollar threshold is met in time.”
Spence shifted hard enough that his chair scuffed on the carpet. Ignoring him, Mia handed Alcosta the PR proposal she’d created.
“Which is why I’d not only schedule ample press coverage, but would call in multiple favors in order to publicize the event. A longer lead time would be better, of course. But I’m quite confident that I’d be able to generate enough excitement and interest in the event to attract enough donors,” Mia assured him. “And as you can see from my outline, I’d actually use that time frame to gently pressure generosity in our patrons—especially those who aren’t able to attend in person.”
“And the actual work of the event? In my experience, I’d estimate a bare minimum of three months, promotion notwithstanding, to successfully implement an event of this magnitude.”
Spence’s snort was quiet enough that Mia hoped she was the only one who’d noticed it. Before he could ask the question she saw teetering there on the tip of his tongue, she reached for her portfolio, making a point of smacking Spence in the knee with it when she reached inside to pull out her itemized proposal.
“Well, yes, three months definitely would have been ideal,” Mia agreed, handing Señor Alcosta the thick proposal with a rueful shrug. “But I’m a big believer in making the most out of what you have. As you can see by this outline, I’ve called in a few favors to book the ideal venue. The Napa location is easy traveling distance for most of our Northern California donors, but I have a tentative hold on a block of rooms at a nearby hotel, pending your approval. I’ve also checked the availability of all of the subvendors I’d like to use and asked my top choices to earmark the dates for us. All of this is tentative, pending your approval, of course.”
And she’d had to call up every marker she’d had in her arsenal, in addition to promising everything in return, right down to her very soul, to pull it off. But she figured her soul was a fair price to pay for an opportunity like this.
“Since this will be a high-profile event—especially the Monte Carlo gala—that targets a wealthy and powerful guest list, one of the key components is security. My security specialist has outlined that plan.”
With that, she gestured to Spence to take over. Abandoning his casual pose, he stood with almost military precision to describe his strategy for securing each event. Like she had with much of her plan, he gave broad strokes rather than details, since they hadn’t committed to a specific location. He wound up his short narrative by reminding Alcosta of the incident at the Forever Families gala.
“Your guests should not only be safe, but comfortable in the knowledge that they won’t be accosted. I doubt you were thinking about donating money to the cause last week when that guy crashed the party and got in your face, right?”
Obviously less than thrilled at the reminder, Señor Alcosta grimaced.
“Is all of this really necessary?” he asked distastefully. “It sounds only one step up from hulking guards and metal detectors.”
“As Spence said, your guests’ comfort and safety will be paramount, and can be done without adding to the cost.”
Mia thought Alcosta was going to argue. She didn’t understand why he wasn’t jumping at the idea of solid security, and held her breath until he gave an expressive shrug and waved his hand.
“The security sounds adequate. Let’s move on to the guest list, shall we?” Alcosta suggested, dismissing Spence’s contribution with a flip of the page as he turned to that section of Mia’s proposal. As she had with her vendor list, Mia had kept it informatively general by offering detailed résumés of known philanthropists and organizations she planned to target, in addition to numerous smaller groups and lesser-known donors. Included in that section were projected attendance and funds she anticipated, both from each event and for the fund-raiser as a whole.
“A larger donor pool might be preferable,” he murmured, running his finger down the page as he read.
“Unlike the event plans, the guest list is more fluid,” Mia explained, none of the tension she suddenly felt obvious in her voice. “I’d be happy to work with your assistant to ensure that your own contacts are invited, as well.”
“My contacts?” Alcosta looked like he didn’t much like that idea.
“Human nature is such that people often donate more money and more often to someone they know. Your business and personal contacts, especially those from your own country, are more likely to have a personal investment in the building of your hospital.”
“Yes, yes,” he said, waving her words away as if they didn’t matter. “But my desire to raise funds here, using your services, was in order to access people I couldn’t reach on my own. I’ve already discussed this venture with the businessmen of my acquaintance. Is it not contrary to our purpose to invite and, quite honestly, fund their attendance?”
Used to that question, Mia explained the advantages versus the potential costs until Alcosta was finally satisfied. She was tempted to check her brow to see if she’d worked up a sweat trying to get his agreement.
Desperate to move on to the after-event portion of her presentation before he changed his mind again, Mia quickly took a sip of water to wet her dry throat.
“What about inviting your family?” Spence asked before she could change the subject. “Big fund-raiser like this, you must have a lot of relatives that will want to be here.”
No, no, no. Mia held her breath. She should have warned Spence that family was an off-limits topic for Señor Alcosta.
“Ahh, family. Both a blessing and a curse, isn’t it?” His jaw tight, Alcosta shook his head. “But sadly, no. Traveling to the United States is not an option for most of my family.”
Mia leaned forward to pour more water from the iced pitcher so he couldn’t read her expression.
“Some families are more curse than blessing, that’s for sure,” Spence agreed. His tone was so conversational, Mia paused, midpour, to check his expression. She couldn’t read anything there, either, though.
“Your family sure has a reputation,” he continued, leaning forward to brace his elbows on his knees, hands dangling between his legs as he gave Alcosta an easy smile. “Drug cartels, smuggling and, what was it your cousin went down for? Leading one of the largest human trafficking rings in Colombia?”
Something bright and mean flashed in Alcosta’s eyes before they flattened. He considered Spence with a snakelike disdain that made Mia feel as if he were deciding exactly where to strike to cause the most pain.
“My cousin’s sins are not my own. I, unlike many in my family, strive to help people. To offer support and good influence. That very operation for which my cousin was arrested, for instanc
e, resulted in the death of many people, some of them family members. Leaving behind the devastation of grieving widows and orphaned children.”
Mia could all but see Spence’s taunting rejoinder. One that’d match the disdain so clear on his face. While she agreed that the Alcosta families crimes were horrible, Santiago wasn’t his family.
“Spence,” she murmured, mentally digging her fingernails into his arm to emphasize her warning.
“No, no,” Alcosta said with a generous wave of his hand. “It’s good to bring this into the open.”
“As disturbing as incidents like the one Señor Lloyd mentions might be, they did help me become the man I am today. After that incident, I reached out to help those left behind. I offered financial support, I helped many relocate to safer places. I even all but adopted one orphaned boy, giving him a home and education.” He paused to offer Mia a pious smile. “While I condemned the crime, I know full well how hard it is for family members who, through no act of their own, are judged by their relations.”
Mia gave a hum of sympathy, empathy all but pouring through her.
“Yeah, a family like that, you gotta admit staying out of the dirt is a challenge,” Spence said, clearly not at all empathetic. “If nothing else, it must give you all a lot to talk about at those big Thanksgiving dinners.”
“Perhaps we’ll have something new to talk about next year. A cautionary tale describing what happens to people who speak of things they know nothing about.”
Enough. Seeing her brilliant career trajectory going down in flames, Mia hurried to interrupt what was quickly devolving into nasty byplay.
“Spence, thank you for the security outline. I’m sure it’ll go a long way to ensure that everyone’s focus at these events is on the ambiance, the sunshine and the great weather.”
“Unless it rains.”
“It won’t. Not if it knows what’s good for it,” she said, grinding out the words through her smile.
For a second, she thought he’d ignore her. Finally, with just a hint of an eye roll, he subtly reached into his pocket. A heartbeat later, his cell phone rang. He made as if reading the display before giving Alcosta an apologetic grimace.