by Rina Gray
“That you like him!”
Tiana narrowed her eyes. “I do not like Nathaniel. He is not my type.”
“But—”
“Even if he were my type, dating Nathaniel would be in direct violation of one my new life rules … absolutely no dating or fraternizing with coworkers.”
“Fraternizing, really?” Mel rolled her eyes. “You and your life rules. You’ve been doing this since you were a teenager. How many rules do you have now?”
Sixty-six. “More than a few, but it doesn’t matter. What’s important is that I don’t make the same mistakes. Dating a coworker, being the center of gossip, and labeled a “side piece” is a pretty damn good reason for my rule.”
“Look, Tiana. Greg and his psycho girlfriend—”
“Fiancée, remember. He took back my ring, told me he was resizing it, and gave it back to Stephanie because let’s not forget it was her ring originally.” Tiana pushed away from her makeshift desk. “I can’t believe that asshole regifted an engagement ring. Who does that?” She took a deep breath, which did nothing to calm her down. “And then Greg and Stephanie somehow made me out to be the psycho ex-girlfriend. The mistress.”
Unknown to Tiana, Greg had had an on and off again relationship with their coworker, Stephanie. During their “off” time, Greg had pursued Tiana. A year later, he’d asked Tiana to marry him.
The shit hit the industrial-sized fan when Greg had stolen a quick kiss from Tiana in his office. Stephanie had walked in on what Tiana had thought was a precious moment. But no, Stephanie yelled, screamed, and accused Tiana of seducing her man. A crowd had gathered near the door as Stephanie hurled one painful and fictitious insult after another.
Tiana didn’t feel sadness anymore. Only anger. Rage. And each memory of laughing, whispered conversations, the stolen promotion, and outright cruelty bubbled over like hot scalding water in a pot. No matter how far she ran and how much her life had changed, she would never be the same. Tiana clutched her stomach as if she could staunch the venom. Looking back, she realized Greg had played them both.
“I can’t believe I was so naïve.” So stupid.
Mel slid to the floor and sat beside Tiana, then leaned in and gave her a side hug. “None of this is on you, T.”
“I know but I … sometimes I think back to the times where it should’ve been obvious. The late night meetings with clients. The oh-so-secret project he and Stephanie had worked on, but he could never divulge the details of. And the cherry on top—the ring.” She shook her head and laughed, but it lacked humor. “The damn thing never fit because it was never for me. The ring had been Stephanie’s all along.”
Melanie shook her head. “We’re not doing this.”
“Doing what?”
“Giving Greg the power to make you feel small. You trusted the man you intended on spending your life with … it’s not a crime. Yes, he sullied that trust, but you cannot let him affect your life. You’ve got to move on … and you are. You’ve gotten away from a toxic environment and moved to New York. You have an awesome job, they value your work, and you are on your way to a kickass promotion.”
Mel’s encouraging words pierced through Tiana’s cloud of funk. Her anger dropped to a slow simmer. “You’re right.” Rolling her shoulders, she returned her attention to the screen. “I need to focus on the present and get back to creating my brilliant campaign proposal.”
Mel stood. “All right, Damien will be over soon, and I need to hit the shower.”
Tiana nodded, focused on the screen. “Thanks again for the info. Good night.”
• • •
Nathan checked the mirror in the boxing gym locker room one last time before leaving for the three-block trek to work.
His reflection stared back at him. Although he looked like a pretty boy, he wasn’t. Today was the day. In two short hours, he and Tiana would battle it out in front of Richard, Isaac, and the rest of the marketing and creative team for the Fiete account.
The campaign he’d propose was good—damn good—and he would enjoy putting little Tiana back in her place as the new, not quite ready kid on the block. When he won, he would be gracious in front of his bosses and team, of course. But behind closed doors, he would enjoy rubbing his victory in her face. He wouldn’t be passed over again as he had been in grad school.
“Bad Tiana.” He grinned at his reflection and then grabbed his bag. Striding out of the locker room, he waved at his sparring partner. “All right, James. See you tomorrow, man.”
Still beating the hell out of the slip ball, the bald, dark-skinned young man gave him a chin nod. “Yeah, man.”
Before stepping into their office, Nathan changed his breathing pattern from his nose to his mouth to avoid Tiana’s alluring and spicy perfume. Damn, I’m becoming a mouth-breather. No time for Mr. Happy to make an appearance. Today required his A-game. Thinking about how her legs would feel wrapped around his waist would not help him focus. Once he won the account and could relax, he’d call up Shelly. Shelly would smile and do anything he asked.
Anything.
Tiana wouldn’t ever relax or be dominated. She was too alpha. It would be fun to try to break her, but she would never cede control.
“Hello, Peaches.” He tried to focus on her face instead of the forest-green skirt clinging to slender thighs. “You ready to lose gracefully?”
“Absolutely not,” she fired back, scowling at her computer screen.
He smiled, happy that she was up for the challenge even though she would be the loser.
Nathan powered up his laptop, reviewed his notes, and made a couple last-minute finishing touches.
His calendar reminder pinged on the fifteen-minutes-to-the-meeting mark.
Tiana’s head popped up. She narrowed her eyes at the smile that spread like butter on his face.
“You ready for this spanking I’m about to give you, Peaches?”
Tiana cocked her head, eyes igniting, reflecting a fiery pool of determination. “Nathaniel, honey,” she purred better than Eartha Kitt, “you couldn’t spank me with a seven-foot-long switch.”
But I could with my hands. His rod spurred to life. Damn. He didn’t need this right now. Squeezing his eyes shut, he focused on the fourth quarter of last night’s basketball game. The Knicks should’ve won the game. Johnson was wide open for that three-pointer.
“You okay over there? Not getting nervous, are you?”
He cleared his throat, finally back in control. “Not at all. I’ll see you in the conference room.” He removed his laptop from the base.
Sparring with Tiana was not a game to play before this meeting. He needed to leave in case she called him Nathaniel or her heated stares turned him on. Yeah, he was going to call Shelly. Today.
• • •
Tiana looked around the room, smiling. Mr. Goldberg had just given a quick recap to the team about the presentations and how excited he was to see their work.
The older man turned around to Tiana and Nathaniel, sitting across from each other at the shiny black table. “Who wants to go first?”
“Ladies first,” Nathaniel’s sexy voice offered.
Did he think she cared that she went first? She preferred to, actually. Giving Nathaniel a fake smile, she swung her head to face Mr. Goldberg. “I’d be happy to.”
Connecting her laptop to the projector, she pressed the remote to the screen. The words sleek, sexy, speedy, sporty, and safety appeared.
The next slide showed a chart with Jake’s name on the left-hand side and the T-8 on the right.
“Sleek and sexy.” She looked around the room. “The prominent contours … the perfect physique … you can imagine yourself taking a ride you’ll never forget.” She paused, smiling. “I’m talking about the T-8, of course.”
The group laughed at her joke.
“Speedy and sporty. For the adrenaline junkie. For the guy or gal who needs to blow off steam. Doesn’t hurt that Jake Ross can toss a heater upward of a hundred miles per hour. He has the speed
, and he needs it on and off the field. And now the T-8 allows the everyday person to do this, too.” She clicked to another slide. “Finally, safety. Some of you may be thinking, ‘Eh, it’s great that they’re safe, but who cares?’” She nodded, as if agreeing with the sentiment. “But guess who cares? The wife or husband of the spouse who buys the car, especially one with kids.” She paused again, moving away from the screen and pacing the floor in a practiced, unhurried move.
“Did you know that Jake Ross is actually a family guy?” Someone chuckled from his seat. No doubt a reader and believer of the trashy magazines that focused on the pitcher’s playboy tendencies.
Tiana stopped moving, showing a huge picture of Jake with his mother, father, brothers, and nieces and nephews. Two of them sat on his lap, pure joy and love in their eyes.
“Jake’s family visits often, or he goes to his hometown in Alabama. He’s been quoted no less than thirty times stating that family is important to him. Safety is important to Jake Ross, when ”—she clicked the screen again, showing a picture of him swinging his nephew at Coney Island— “he takes the little ones to amusement parks.”
Clasping her hands behind her back, she surveyed the room, silently commanding their attention. “Jake Ross and the T-8 aren’t just one trick ponies, they’re more. Let’s do a campaign that shows more.” She went over her ideas for print, commercial, and online advertisements. She occasionally looked at her bosses, who nudged and smiled at each other.
“And finally, to give you a taste of my vision, I’ve created a rough video that shows the many sides of Jake and will give you an idea of how we can marry him and the T-8 beautifully.”
The video started with a clip of Jake pitching, eyes filled with determination at Yankee Stadium. The crowd cheered, and pandemonium ensued at his ninety-five-mile-per-hour strikeout. The video transitioned to “sexy Jake” with a starlet on his arm at an awards ceremony. His gray eyes smoldered at the camera. His sexiness could not be denied.
The next clip showed “Uncle Jake” with one of his nieces on his shoulder and the other two holding his hands. The video ended, and the room erupted with applause. She looked around the room smiling, and finally chanced a look at Nathaniel, whose eyes she’d purposely avoided until now. He looked begrudgingly impressed. But still, he wasn’t shaking in his boots. Damn. He must have something equally as compelling under his sleeve. Mr. Goldberg and Mr. Hart both stood, giving her firm handshakes.
“Nathan, you have some steep competition here.” Mr. Hart pointed at Tiana, glowing under his praise.
“Are you ready to show us what you have?”
“I sure am, Richard.”
She smiled and walked back to her seat. Winking at Nathaniel, she mouthed, “Good luck, slave.”
Chapter Four
Nathan smiled inwardly. His little spitfire thought she had the world in the palm of her hands. But he was a fighter. A survivor. He wouldn’t let little Miss Tight Skirt slap him around. No, he thrived on the thrill, the adrenaline. His coworkers and bosses were primed. He saw their eyes. Some of them thought they’d already made their decision.
“My lovely coworker, Ms. Holliday, is absolutely correct. Jake Ross is more. The T-8 series is … more.” Nathan looked around; satisfied everyone seemed settled. “But what we’re missing is that our target audience is forty plus males, with a few younger, rich male outliers thrown in.”
He paused, stroking his chin as if in deep thought. “Guys don’t think about emotions. We are highly visual. We need to see ourselves in the T-8, but Jake Ross isn’t the average guy.”
Putting up three fingers, Nathan ticked them off with his points. “He’s a famous athlete, he’s young, and I’m a confident enough man to say he’s a good-looking guy.”
He scored a few laughs on the last comment. “Our target audience, for the most part, is none of those things. Not to the level of Jake Ross. So how do we get them to see themselves in the T-8 and see themselves in Jake?”
Nathan clicked his presentation and, with a practiced megawatt smile, continued. “We have to make Jake relatable. I say we make fun of the ‘Pretty Boy’ and ‘Ladies Man’ rep that surrounds him. Remove the veneer. Shoot commercials as if they were behind the scenes, but make them funny and humanize him through humor.”
Looking around, he saw quite a few nods. “Did you know that Jake graduated as valedictorian in high school and Summa Cum Laude in college? He struggled with his weight as a preteen and stuttered as a kid.”
He took a move from Tiana and purposefully paced the floor. “We don’t have to make anything up. He is a relatable guy. He’s nerdy, and he was the shy, chubby kid in school.” Walking away from the screen, Nathan pulled out storyboards from the office’s polished black wood cabinets.
His sketches showed Jake in various scenarios. One board was titled “The Klutz.” When Tiana’s thin, arched eyebrows rose, Nathan winked. Oh, yeah. He’d pulled out all the stops for the presentation.
“Off the field, he’s the guy who bumps into everything.” He pointed at a funny sketch of Jake’s assistant knocking him out of the way of danger. At one point in the storyboard, the assistant had the pitcher walking around in bubble wrap—that was, until he got into the T-8 and then suddenly the pitcher looked like James Bond.
Nathan moved on to the next storyboard titled “The Nerd,” a series showing Jake with a headset playing a video game and using gamer lingo. The next showed Jake watching Star Trek on television and a dialogue bubble of him quoting lines. The final sketch series included images of the pitcher putting the final touches on a superhero costume and entering a Comic Con convention. In the final scene, Jake gets into the T-8 and is transformed into Mr. GQ.
Putting the storyboards away, Nathan returned to the front of the room. “Like I said, guys are visual. We want to see ourselves in the person who’s speaking to us. Jake Ross is the klutz, the nerd, and the down-south gentleman. Let’s make this campaign funny and memorable and show guys that with the T-8, they can transform and be just as suave and sleek as Jake.”
The team then clapped, equally as loudly as they had at the end of Tiana’s presentation.
Richard stood and clapped Nathan on the back. Nathan then returned to his seat and stared at his nemesis. While no one was looking, he mouthed, “You’re mine.” From the gleam that lit her eyes, he could have sworn she liked the idea.
Clearing his throat, Richard clapped his hands together. “I have to tell you that this is outstanding stuff, folks. I could honestly see the client liking both directions.” He shook his salt-and-pepper hair. “You know, Isaac, I think we should present both ideas to Fiete. Show them that we have a dynamic team. What do you say?”
Isaac was silent. Richard was silent. Everyone was silent. Isaac finally nodded. “I like it. Tiana … Nathan … ” He wiggled his bushy white brows at them. “We’ll send a recap on things you need to tweak, but otherwise get ready to present to Fiete next Tuesday. If we get this launched in time, we may be able to apply for the SAX Awards. May the best campaign win.”
• • •
Tiana gave the team a tight, gracious smile and flew from the conference room. Disappointment bloomed in her core. She’d wanted to blow Nathaniel away, have him sucking his thumb and crying for his mama. But no, the stupid jerk had to go all Picasso and sketch the “many faces of Jake Ross.”
Shaking off her frustration, she sat at her desk. She could still win it all. This draw, which was a total cop-out, was only a minor setback. Suddenly, the door snapped open, and Nathaniel stepped in.
Tiana cleared her throat. “I guess we’ll have to wait until next Tuesday to see who’s the winner.”
“Yes, I—” Nathaniel’s cell phone rang with the ringtone “Every Breath You Take” by The Police. Taking brisk strides, he retrieved the phone from his desk and rolled his eyes skyward.
“Hey, Shelly.”
Tiana sucked her teeth at the name. Shelly often called, much to Nathaniel’s dismay. Heat crep
t up Tiana’s neck and blazed her cheeks. She blew a disgusted breath at herself, irritated at her own reaction to Nathaniel.
He leaned against his desk. “Yeah, baby. Let’s start with dinner on Saturday. See where it goes.”
Ugh. How unprofessional to set up booty calls at work!
She shouldn’t be surprised. He might be an outstanding marketer, but he didn’t have an ounce of professionalism. She shouldn’t know his social calendar, but he felt the need to loudly plan dinners and outings and weekend getaways.
Nathaniel’s deep, sensual laugh filled the room. She imagined he was laughing in her ear about something she’d said. Growling, she mentally smacked her head. What the hell is up with me?
She needed to get laid. ASAP. The other day, Mel had offered to set Tiana up with one of her advertising clients. She’d brushed her friend off, giving the excuse of a new job and settling into a new city. But she was well past the ninety-day mark—make that 180-day mark. She was broken in. Now it was time to break something else in.
Three years. Three long years of celibacy. Tiana hadn’t been able to let anyone in, emotionally or physically, after Greg’s betrayal. Oh, she’d tried being intimate with other men. She really had. But once it got to the point of seeing birthday suits, she always froze. In her mind, she was fast-forwarding one or two years and wondering when he would cheat.
But her fingers and a Rabbit weren’t enough. She was past frustrated, and if her hoo-ha could speak … It actually wouldn’t speak, a silent protest for not having proper company in a very long time. She could see the protest signs.
End the Drought.
We want d—
“Tiana! Where did you just go? You seemed deep in thought.” Nathaniel’s dark eyes were etched in concern.
“No, I—I’m just thinking about … ending a protest.”
“Really? What issues are you passionate about?”
Getting some action so I’ll stop lusting after my dirty dog of a coworker.
“I, uh, don’t actually like talking about political issues at the workplace.”
Nathaniel didn’t seem convinced. Oh, well. Today wasn’t the day to argue. She had much better things to do. Grabbing her cell phone, she swiped the screen to text Mel about setting up a date with the guy she’d mentioned. She also needed to update her friend about the campaign face-off between her and Nathaniel.