All the Right Places (RILEY O'BRIEN & CO #1)

by Jenna Sutton

  He still knelt on the concrete floor, and the office was so silent she could hear his breathing. His chest moved in a deep, fast rhythm.

  She leaned against the chair. After a moment, her fingers worked again, and she resumed unbuckling her belt.

  “So what do you think?” she asked, referring to the boot he still held in his hands.

  Her voice sounded just like Marilyn Monroe’s when she’d sung “Happy Birthday” to JFK, and she cringed in embarrassment. When he didn’t reply, she glanced up from her belt.

  His head was bowed, his knuckles white where they clenched her boot. Finally, he responded.

  “I think you should stop fiddling with your belt,” he said roughly.

  She froze, torn between running and staying exactly where she was. If the air had been heavy with sexual tension before, it now crackled with it. She had never felt anything like it, and she definitely didn’t want to feel it with this man.

  She waited a beat before speaking. “May I have my boot back?”

  He relinquished his hold on her footwear, and she moved to the sofa to pull it on. Out of the corner of her eyes, she saw him get to his feet and make his way toward the windows.

  He stared down at the street below, one hand propped on the window and the other rubbing the back of his neck. “Teagan thinks you’re the right person for this job,” he said without turning.

  His voice was hoarse, and he cleared his throat. “I’m inclined to agree with her. I like what I saw here today.” He stopped abruptly, muttering something under his breath. “I like your designs,” he clarified.

  He turned from the window, his face blank. “You asked for this meeting. Is there anything in particular you wanted to discuss?”

  “Yes. I’m curious how much supervision you plan to give to this project.”

  He smiled, a quick quirk of his lips. “Haven’t you heard? I’m a terrible micromanager.”

  She tensed, shuddering inwardly at the thought of him hanging over her shoulder, watching her every move. Her dread must have been visible because he chuckled.

  “Relax, Amelia. I’m far from a micromanager. I trust people to do their jobs, at least until they give me a reason not to trust them. And you’ve not given me any reason not to trust you.”

  “So you aren’t going to provide a lot of supervision. What kind of involvement do you expect to have with the design process?”

  “What would you say if I told you I didn’t want to be involved?”

  At first, his answer delighted her because it meant he wouldn’t bother her while she worked. But then she was a little disappointed. This was his family business. Where was his sense of responsibility?

  “I’d say it’s very unwise to not be involved.”

  “Really?” he asked, his dark eyebrows winging up his forehead. “Why would you say that? I’m not the expert in women’s fashion. You are.”

  “I get the sense the women’s division is suffering from benign neglect.”

  “You’re probably right. It has been largely ignored, almost since it was first created. But partnering with you for this line of accessories is the most attention I can give it.”

  “Don’t you want the women’s division to be successful?”

  He sighed loudly. “If you think about Riley O’Brien & Co. as a big oak tree with deep roots and long, thick branches, the women’s division is nothing but a short, skinny branch.” He grimaced. “It’s rotting, and it might be time to take a chainsaw to it.”

  She digested his comments. Now she had a much better understanding of why Teagan had felt compelled to take matters into her own hands, or rather, put matters into Amelia’s hands.

  And it also explained why Teagan refused to supervise the project. She believed Quinn’s involvement in the accessories would make him more connected to the women’s division.

  Amelia addressed the next item on her mental list. “I estimate the design process will take three to six months because each piece will need to be tweaked and approved,” she said, looking for confirmation because she wasn’t sure how the process worked at Riley O’Brien & Co.

  “That’s about right,” he said, leaning against the window. “You’ll also need to work with our purchasing department to make sure each piece is constructed of materials that can be sourced easily and inexpensively. And you’ll need to work with our manufacturing folks to make sure your pieces can be made on our existing equipment.”

  Teagan had neglected to share those specific details. Amelia was a little intimidated at how extensively he expected her to be involved in the process once her designs were completed and approved.

  “That would mean my involvement would last well beyond six months.”

  “Is that a problem?”

  Yes, it was a problem, a huge one. If she got this worked up simply by being in the same room with Quinn, she needed to make sure she did most of her design work far away from him. Several states away, preferably.

  Rising from the sofa, she returned to the chair she had vacated so abruptly. “I’m not willing to be away from Nashville for that long.”

  “Why? Do you have a man who wants you by his side day and night?” he asked, a hint of sarcasm in his deep voice.

  She stiffened. This was not the way she wanted the meeting to go. She wanted them to be allies, not enemies, so she did her best to lighten the mood.

  “Not just one man. The entire defensive line of the Tennessee Titans is at my beck and call,” she quipped.

  When he scowled at her, she held out her hands, palms up. “If you want me to produce samples, I need to have access to my workshop.”

  “Believe it or not, we actually have workshops here,” he replied dryly.

  Realizing she wasn’t getting anywhere with her argument, she clenched her fists in her lap. “Do you have a problem with me doing the majority of the design work in Nashville?”

  “Is it a deal breaker if I do have a problem with it?”

  Her mouth went dry. Was it a deal breaker?

  She knew she’d do her best work in an environment where she felt comfortable and confident, but she could work anywhere. Was she going to lose the biggest opportunity of her career because she was afraid she couldn’t control her hormones?

  She struggled to find an answer, ashamed she even had to think about it. Her lustful thoughts about Quinn shouldn’t factor into her decision. Her career was more important than sexual attraction.

  After several seconds of silence, he sighed. “Fine. You can do the majority of the design work in Nashville. But I expect you to be here to get the project off on the right foot.”

  She went limp with relief. He had given in. “How long did you have in mind?”

  After a brief pause, he said, “Four weeks.”

  A month on-site wasn’t ideal, but she didn’t think he was being unreasonable with his request.

  “You also need to make time to tour one of our manufacturing facilities. And I want you to present the samples in person.”

  When she didn’t answer immediately, he asked sharply, “Is that acceptable to you?”

  “Yes, that’s acceptable to me, as long as you pay for my airfare, lodging, and food while I’m here.”

  She couldn’t afford the expense of flying back and forth from Nashville to San Francisco along with the high hotel rates in the Bay Area.

  Quinn’s eyebrows shot up. “Of course. That’s a given.”

  She knew she had exposed her lack of previous business experience. Covering her gaffe with a big smile, she said, “I have to finish up another project before I start on yours, but it shouldn’t take long, only a couple of weeks.”

  His broad shoulders lifted in a shrug. “That’s fine.”

  She stood and offered her hand to seal the deal. He looked at it for a moment, and when it was obvious he had no plans to
take it, she tucked it into her pocket.

  “Are we finished?” he asked, pulling out his mobile.

  He had already dismissed her, and instead of being offended by his rudeness, she was relieved. She turned to grab her bag, but his words drew her attention.

  “Teagan, hey . . . Amelia and I are finished,” he said into the phone. “Come and get her and then treat her to an early lunch.” He paused for a second before answering, “Okay. See you in a second.”

  Disconnecting the call, he placed the phone on his desk. “Teagan’s on her way.”

  Amelia nodded before bending down to pick up her bag. As she turned to face him, she noticed his eyes were focused on her lower half. She was almost certain he’d been checking out her butt.

  “Quinn.”

  His eyes jerked to her face. “I’m sorry,” he said, a tide of red sweeping over his face. “I missed what you said.”

  Oh, yes, he definitely had been checking out her butt. She should be insulted, but surprisingly she wasn’t. Instead, she was flattered a hot guy appreciated her anatomy.

  But not just any hot guy. This hot guy.

  “Can you repeat what you said?”

  “I just wanted to thank you for the opportunity,” she said sincerely. “I think it’s going to work out great.”

  Quinn smiled, but it looked more like a grimace. “Yeah, I’m sure it will.”

  Chapter 4

  “So, how did it go?” Teagan asked as she and Amelia made their way along Market Street.

  Teagan had promised to take her to one of the best lunch spots in the city, and they were heading to a place called Zuni Café. Although they had walked silently for a few minutes, Amelia had yet to figure out the best way to describe her meeting with Quinn, so she deflected Teagan’s question with one of her own.

  “Is the weather always this gorgeous in September?”

  This business trip was Amelia’s first visit to San Francisco, and she was surprised by the warm, sunny weather. Like most tourists, her knowledge of the city was gleaned primarily from movies. As a result, she had expected fog, the Golden Gate Bridge, and Alcatraz.

  “Yes. Most people don’t know it, but we have Indian summers here. October is even nicer.” Teagan gave her a sidelong glance. “Are you going to tell me how your meeting with Quinn went or are we going to keep talking about the weather?”

  Amelia smiled wryly. She liked Teagan, but she wouldn’t say they were friends. They had only known each other a few months, and their discussions had been limited to business with a bit of Teagan’s family history mixed in.

  Ava Grace had introduced them at a concert to raise money for the nation’s largest hunger relief organization. Teagan had been there because Riley O’Brien & Co.’s charitable foundation was one of the event sponsors, while Ava Grace had performed at the concert along with several other country and rock musicians.

  “The meeting wasn’t bad,” Amelia said finally. “Quinn was pleasant. Nice, even.”

  Teagan snorted. “First of all, if that were true, you’d be damning him with faint praise,” she retorted. “Second, my brother is a lot of things, but ‘nice’ is not an adjective most women use to describe him.”

  “How do most women describe him?” Amelia asked, eager to gain some insight into Quinn from such a reliable source.

  Teagan made a sound of disgust. “Hot.” Her red lips twisted. “But I think ‘hardheaded’ is a better adjective. Although ‘clueless’ also works.”

  Amelia laughed. “Maybe you’re right. He’s still blissfully unaware of our real plans.”

  “So he still has no idea you’re going to reimagine our women’s jeans, in addition to creating some new styles and expanding the product line?”

  “No, we only talked about accessories,” Amelia confirmed. “He noticed my boots right away, and I think they convinced him that I was up to the challenge.”

  “I knew they would. He likes shoes even more than I do, and I’m a shoe whore.”

  She looked down at Teagan’s heels. “Yes, you are,” she agreed with a laugh.

  The red suede peep-toes were a perfect complement to Teagan’s wrap dress, which clung to her considerable curves. “That’s a fabulous dress, by the way. You remind me of a 1940s pinup.”

  Teagan smoothed a hand over her dark, wavy hair. “I always wear dresses or skirts to work.” She sighed wistfully. “I would love to wear jeans, but I can’t wear the competition to the office. Can you imagine? It would be like cursing during Mass. And I refuse to wear Rileys. I hate the way they fit.”

  Amelia nodded. “Me, too. They’re too long for me, and I have to go up a couple of sizes for them to fit my butt, which makes the waist too loose. Even Ava Grace looks bad in them.”

  “And they’re so uncomfortable in the crotch.”

  Amelia snickered. “The dreaded camel toe.”

  “Ugh,” Teagan groaned. “If you can find a way to design a pair of jeans that prevent camel toe, you’ll be doing the whole world a great service.”

  Teagan shifted her red Gucci bag to her other shoulder and stopped in front of a storefront topped with a bright yellow awning. “This is it,” she announced, ushering Amelia through the door.

  Soon after the hostess seated them in a booth near the window, their server came by to take their drink order. Amelia was surprised when Teagan ordered a dirty martini.

  “I know it’s early, but talking with Quinn about the women’s division always drives me to drink,” Teagan noted with a scowl. “The men in my family are so stubborn. I really thought things would change once Quinn stepped in to run the company when my dad got sick, but he hasn’t done anything to help the women’s division. It’s infuriating.”

  The server delivered the drinks to their table, and Teagan took a moment to reduce him to a quivering mass of hormones with some over-the-top flirting. When she finished with him and the poor guy had stumbled away, she raised her martini.

  “To a successful redesign,” she toasted.

  When Amelia didn’t raise her glass, Teagan frowned. Sighing loudly, she returned her cocktail to the table with a sharp click.

  “I know you feel guilty about going behind Quinn’s back,” Teagan acknowledged. “But he needs to realize how important the women’s division really is.”

  “I do feel guilty. I’m not a naturally deceitful person.”

  “You just need a little practice.”

  Amelia shook her head in exasperation. While Teagan didn’t seem to have any hesitation about working behind her older brother’s back, Amelia continued to struggle with her decision.

  Initially, Teagan and Amelia had only talked about accessories. When Teagan had broached the subject of working on a comprehensive redesign, Amelia hadn’t been interested because of the secrecy required.

  But Teagan had been very persuasive, agreeing to fund Amelia’s longtime dream of owning a chain of boutiques where she could sell her designs exclusively. Teagan’s investment was contingent upon Amelia’s success. Quinn had to agree to put her designs into production or she didn’t get anything for her efforts.

  Amelia met Teagan’s eyes. “Are you sure you want to do this? I only spent a short amount of time with Quinn this morning, but I have no doubt he’ll be furious when he finds out what we’re doing.”

  Going behind Quinn’s back made Amelia feel as if she was compromising an important part of herself in her quest for success. She had the unpleasant notion this was exactly how executives devolved into criminals. Little by little, they put money and success ahead of character and integrity.

  “My dad ignored the women’s division, and Quinn doesn’t think it can be successful, no matter what,” Teagan grumbled, her frustration evident. “He refuses to listen to me, and I have to do something big to make him see the potential.”

  After taking a sip of her martini, Teagan
said, “I’ve been thinking about the best way to tell Quinn about the redesign. I know we’ve only talked about sketches, but maybe you should create samples, too. Then we could have a mini fashion show.”

  Amelia considered Teagan’s suggestion. “I think that’s a good idea. But I’ll need extra time to create the samples.”

  “How much time?”

  “At least twelve weeks . . . maybe more,” she replied, knowing her answer would disappoint Teagan. “And that doesn’t include the initial design process.”

  Sure enough, the other woman’s mouth turned down in a disappointed frown. “So January at the earliest?”

  Amelia nodded apologetically. “I know it will be hard to keep the project a secret from Quinn for that long.”

  “We don’t have any choice. We have a much better chance of gaining his support if he can see your designs on real bodies. You know what they say: seeing is believing.”

  “There’s still a good chance he won’t put them into production,” Amelia warned.

  Teagan nodded. “You’re right, he might not. And if he refuses to see it my way, I’ll take it to the board.”

  Amelia pondered Teagan’s statement. It sounded as if she was willing to push Quinn out of the CEO suite if he didn’t go along with her ideas.

  “Just to be clear, do you want to take over the company?”

  Teagan frowned. “I doubt it would come to that.”

  “And if it did?”

  “I don’t want to take Quinn’s job from him. Let’s just hope he eventually sees the light.”

  • • •

  Quinn stabbed the down button on the elevators leading to the parking garage below Riley Plaza. Since it was nearly seven in the evening, no one else waited for the elevator. He impatiently slapped his leather messenger bag against his hip, eager to be on his way home.

  This morning’s unscheduled meeting with Amelia Winger had messed up his routine. After handing Amelia off to Teagan, he’d immediately rushed into a meeting with the head of real estate, Sam Sullivan.