The Rich List Series: Contemporary Romance Box Set (Millionaire, Billionaire, CEO)

by Hunter, Talia

  “Gifts for the groom. People going to bachelor and bachelorette parties are some of my best customers.” She snapped her fingers and excitement made her voice rise. “I’ve got special stands set up for them, but lately I’ve been thinking I should do a lot more. I’ve got some ideas, but I’m not sure how to make them work.”

  His dark eyes were alight with interest. “I can help. We’ll talk it through once we’ve finished adjusting your stock levels.”

  She pulled the tie she’d bought out of her bag. “Give this a try.”

  He caught it and she watched his expression. When he smiled she puffed out her breath.

  “You like it?” she asked, not wanting to feel as anxious as she did. The pattern had caught her eye – simple but striking. A rich blue to represent his forceful personality, shot through with a teal in a way that was unexpected and a little playful. Exactly like his smile.

  He nodded and she thought he was sincere. “You have good taste.”

  He put it on with swift, efficient movements, so practiced he didn’t need a mirror. But she couldn’t resist stepping up to adjust the knot and make sure it was perfectly straight. Being so close, she could breathe in his cologne and feel the warmth of his body though his business shirt. She was hyper aware of the movement of his muscles behind the fabric, the way his biceps flexed when he smoothed his hand down the tie. A thrill ran through her as she stared into his face. She wanted him to kiss her again. He was so good-looking, she had to squeeze her thighs together at the thought he might reach out and pull her against him.

  From the way his eyes traced the line of her lips, maybe he was thinking along similar lines?

  Stop it, Geena. Remember the Kingston. But for some reason, the thought of the pile of rubble he’d turned the beautiful building into didn’t disturb her like it had before she’d got to know him. He was helping her for a second day, wasn’t he? It hadn’t even been that hard to talk him into it, though he’d probably had other things planned. And someone who smiled like he did couldn’t be entirely evil.

  Then remember Justin. That thought almost made her step back. But it was hard to fight the crazy attraction that electrified the air between them. She’d finished with his tie, smoothing it down at least five more times than was necessary, and he wasn’t pulling away from her. In fact, he was gazing at her like he was also wondering whether in spite of their differences they had something worth exploring.

  “Sorry to interrupt, but we’re about done here.” They both jerked their heads around to see one of the workmen looking at them curiously. “You want to program in a new code or keep the old one?”

  Damien stepped away from her, and she felt instantly colder. “She’ll put in a new code. You have the panic button installed?”

  “Panic button?” she repeated.

  “Under the counter.” The workman showed her where it was and programmed in a new code for her at Damien’s insistence.

  A couple of customers came in and she helped them find what they wanted while the workmen finished up and left.

  Damien was stacking the boxes of stock in one corner. “I did one other thing while you were out.” He put down the last box and straightened, running his hand over his new tie.

  “I’m afraid to ask.” She picked up a display vibrator that had fallen over and set it back on its base. Now that the shelf was so empty, perhaps she should space out the boxes?

  “Your tax payment is your biggest problem.”

  At the mention of it, her stomach turned over. Since getting that bill she’d had a sick feeling permanently lodged in her belly.

  “If you miss the due date, you’ll have penalties to add. As I suggested yesterday, you need a loan that’ll cover your tax and give you some working capital to set up a website and make the changes this place needs. So I've made you an appointment with your bank manager.”

  Her hand jerked and knocked over several boxes of vibrators. “I have a bank manager?”

  “Of course you do. I’ve spoken to him. Haven’t you?”

  “No.”

  “On Thursday you will. Your appointment’s at one.”

  The day after tomorrow? Great. Instead of making her feel better, that only made her sicker. How likely was a bank manager to lend her that much money? “Seriously, you think he’ll give me a loan?”

  “No. Not unless you plan what you’re going to say. Not unless you know your figures and can talk him through your profits and expenses. You’ll need to convince him you can turn the store around.”

  She started setting the vibrators up again, not wanting him to see how nervous his suggestion had made her. “Listen, I’m not good with figures and paperwork. And I don’t exactly look like a high-powered business woman, do I? What’s he going to think when he hears me stammer my way through a bunch of numbers I don’t understand?”

  “I’m going to coach you.”

  “But you won’t be here. This is our last day together.” She felt a surge of hope. “Unless you can give me a little more time?”

  “I’ve already given you—”

  She held up one hand. “Before you decide, think about all the things I can do for you.”

  His eyes drifted down to her lips again and she swallowed. Focus, Geena. Keep it professional.

  “Just the Liasion article isn’t going to be enough. You have a whole string of interviews lined up, right? Well it’s likely to be a wasted effort. There’s no way you’re going to sway anyone’s opinion if you come across like you want to eat the interviewer’s face off.”

  “What can you do for me that my large team of PR and image consultants can’t?”

  “I don’t care how many people you have in your team. If the interviews I’ve seen are any indication, they obviously aren’t coaching you on the right things.”

  He considered her. “What makes you think you can do better?”

  “My experience talking to customers.”

  He snorted.

  “Just hear me out. A woman once confessed to me that she was in her late fifties and had never climaxed. Ever. And for years she’d been making all kinds of excuses not to have sex with her husband, because she was too embarrassed and afraid to tell him what she really wanted.”

  He was still frowning. “And—?”

  “Don’t you see? I couldn’t get a word out of her for the first half hour. But after I’d talked for a while she started responding, and eventually she told me about a problem she hadn’t been able to bring up with her husband in twenty years. Why do you think she did that?” She didn’t wait for him to answer. “Empathy, eye contact and a friendly smile. But not just that. There are a lot of signals you can give to make you seem more approachable, and those are the kind of skills I use every day. She felt comfortable with me, like she could trust me. That’s the reason I love what I do.” She laughed a little self-consciously. “Maybe it’s just a toy store, but some days, when people confide in me the things they’re too afraid to tell anyone else, that’s when I feel like I’m really touching their lives, you know?”

  “And you think you can teach me those skills?”

  She hesitated, looking at the way he was standing, with his arms folded and a stern expression. Even now, if she hadn’t got to know him, she’d think he was a little scary. “Not all of them,” she admitted. “But I can help you seem more approachable. Pass on a few tips.”

  “What about the woman? Did you sell her something?”

  She laughed. “Of course. She walked out with a book on female orgasm and a vibrator to experiment with after her husband had finished reading it.”

  “Did it work?”

  Geena smirked. “She came back three weeks later to thank me. Said she’d had so many orgasms she’d had to start taking vitamins.”

  Damien looked skeptical, like he thought she was making it up. “Vitamins, huh?”

  She crossed her heart. “Without a word of a lie. And I have plenty more stories like that. The point is, I can help you with your
public image if you’ll give me a chance. What do you say?” She pressed both hands together in a gesture of prayer. “Please.”

  “You’re convincing, I’ll give you that.” He hesitated. “But there’s something that’s even more convincing. When I agreed to this deal, I didn’t realize how close to bankruptcy you were. If you go out of business, the Liaison article’s useless to me and this will have all been for nothing. If you have to close your doors, there’ll be no point in publishing it.”

  Her hand went up to her neck, missing the weight of her heavy gold locket. The woman who’d bought Gran’s necklace had picked it up this morning. She could hardly believe it was gone forever, and had almost changed her mind at the last moment. “At least I have the money to pay Billy.”

  Damien’s eyes strayed over her throat. “It must have been difficult.”

  Geena swallowed. The kindness in his expression threatened to work tears from her, but she couldn’t let herself look weak. She hardened her tone. “If you don’t keep helping me, I’ll have let it go for nothing.”

  His gaze lifted to her eyes. After a moment, he picked up his cell phone. “Rosalind? Please clear some more time in my schedule tomorrow. Yes, I’ll still do the media interviews. Let me know if there’s anything you can’t postpone.” He hung up.

  Geena blinked. As easy as that? “Thank you.”

  “I’ll take you through the figures so you know what you’re talking about when you meet with the bank manager.”

  Her stomach turned over at the mention of the meeting he’d scheduled. Sure she was great with her customers, because she loved what she did. But she was going to be utterly hopeless talking to a bank manager…

  Catching herself, she forced the thought away. Was that her mother’s voice she was hearing? Letting that voice in drained her confidence and she couldn’t let that happen. Not now, when everything she’d worked so hard for was at stake. “Then teach me,” she said. “Help me sound like I know what I’m talking about.”

  He gave her that smile of his that made her heart turn over. “I thought you’d never ask.”

  8

  Damien spent the afternoon at other appointments, including his interview. When he got back, he spread Geena’s financial reports over the store counter so they could keep discussing them between customers. It was almost five, and according to Geena, that was when it started to get busy.

  He moved his finger down the cashflow statement. “Explain this depreciation figure to me.”

  Geena chewed her lip. “Um. Is that the amount of stock I’ve had to write off?”

  “Almost. It’s actually a deduction for wear and tear on your fixtures and fittings.” It was a good guess though. Geena had proven herself a quick learner, and they were getting through the statements faster than he’d expected. The only thing that got in her way was her belief that she was bad with numbers. “The inventory reserves figure in the balance sheet includes an estimation for write-offs.” He pointed. “When you do your stock take, you’ll need to calculate how many items have been stolen or returned. Your accountant will adjust the inventory reserves figure accordingly.”

  She groaned. “There are so many numbers on these reports and they all have stupid names. I’m never going to remember what they are.”

  “You will. Besides, you’ll take the reports into the meeting with you, so you won’t have to remember any actual numbers. You’ll just have to talk him through the important ones.”

  “Why don’t you just come with me?” she asked. “If you were there, a bank manager would give me any amount I wanted.”

  “Better for you to do this by yourself, then you’ll know you can do it on your own merits. And you’ll know what you’re talking about when you have follow up meetings.”

  “Follow up meetings? This is getting worse by the minute.” She groaned, then brightened. “Hey, my bank manager’s a man, right? So are you sure I can’t just sleep with him?” When he frowned, she gave him an innocent, wide-eyed look. “What? It worked for my friend Angel. A little seduction got her a big job.”

  “I don’t recommend—.”

  “Kidding. As if I’d sleep with a banker.” She pulled a disgusted face. “He’d probably want to assess my figure and calculate his interest before making his deposit.”

  He heaved a sigh to hide the fact he was trying not to laugh.

  “Geena, you’re wasting time. On purpose,” he added, before she could protest. “Concentrate, and these reports will make sense.”

  “Financial reports are boring. And hard. And did I mention boring?”

  “Your income statement shows a substantial loss for the last fiscal year.” He tapped the printout. “So what do you say when your bank manager points that out?”

  “I lean over and pop the top button on my blouse.” He let out a growl and she rolled her eyes. “Okay, okay.” She bit her lip, brow furrowed. “If he asks about last year’s loss, I show him the increased assets figure on my balance sheet, and admit I was overstocked.”

  “And…?”

  She ticked the points off her fingers. “And if he gives me a loan, I’ll use some of the money to open an online store and liquidate my excess stock. Once the website goes live, the stock should sell quickly and correct the imbalance. I’ve also implemented just-in-time ordering procedures to make sure it doesn’t happen again, and my new point-of-sale system will help me keep tight control of what’s coming in and going out.”

  She’d remembered what he’d told her almost word for word. He smiled. “See, you can do this.”

  “Freeze.” She grabbed his arm. “That smile right there. That’s the one.”

  He felt it disappear. “What are you talking about?”

  “If you could just do that in front of a camera, your approval rating would soar. Guaranteed.”

  “When I’m being interviewed I don’t have anything to smile about.”

  “Can’t you think of something nice?”

  The buzzer on the door interrupted his answer and a customer came in. No, three customers. Three women, all in their mid or late twenties. Office workers, judging by their clothes. They crossed to the shelves and laughed as they commented on the dildos on display.

  “Bachelorette party,” murmured Geena. “Bet it’s someone in their office getting married and they’re all invited. They’ll want to buy plastic handcuffs, a bridal veil, and probably some rude joke gifts for the bride as well.”

  “You should serve them before we go on.”

  “Actually, I think you should.” When his brow furrowed, she added. “It’s time to work on you for a while. You have to practice pretending to be nice.”

  “Geena, I keep telling you. I’m not your employee.”

  “No, but you need to start hiding that snarl, or you’ll never be able to do it in your interviews.”

  “I don’t see how serving customers in your store will—”

  She waved her hand impatiently. “You can get all the interview advice in the world, but if you don’t practice being friendly it won’t look natural. Go over and say hi without giving them your usual glare. Of course, if you’d just flash your amazing smile, they’d fall at your feet.” She grimaced. “But I know asking you to smile at a stranger is like asking a lion to roll over for a belly rub, so I’ll tell you what I do if I’m tired, or having a bad day. Obviously I can’t let it show, so when I’m talking to customers I focus a hundred percent of my attention on them instead. I compliment them on something they’re wearing, or tell them I like their hair style. If I can make them feel good, they appreciate it, and funnily enough it makes me feel better too.”

  He folded his arms. “If I approach three women in a sex store to tell them they look nice, they’ll probably have me arrested.”

  “And every time someone points a camera in your direction, you manage to make more people hate you.” She pointed at the women. “Go. Come up with something nice to say. See if you can be charming.”

  Damien sighed. If h
e didn’t do it, she wouldn’t concentrate on her figures. Besides, maybe she wasn’t too far off the mark. He had more interviews scheduled and if he didn’t make more of an effort they’d probably go as badly as the ones he’d already done.

  Still didn’t mean he had to like it. He shot her a stern look. “After this, no more excuses.” Then strode over to the customers. “May I help you?” As the women turned, he realized his expression wasn’t far from a snarl, and quickly rearranged his features.

  One of them held up the box she’d been examining. “How does this work?”

  Damien took it from her. On the front was a picture of a u-shaped piece of plastic and what looked like a remote control unit. “Vibra.” He read the product name and nodded, recognizing the name from the inventory report Rosalind had compiled. “It’s a top seller. Highly recommended.” Problem was, he had no idea what it was. It looked vaguely like a pair of short tongs.

  “Yes, but do you need to buy batteries?”

  “How many settings does it have?” interrupted one of the other women.

  “Does it feel good?” asked the third, then clapped her hand over her mouth to stop a laugh.

  Damien narrowed his eyes. “Two settings,” he invented. “And yes, you need batteries.”

  “Oh.” The first one pouted, gazing at him through half lowered eyelids. “I thought it was rechargeable.”

  “Then why did you ask?” Damien tried not to sound irritated. He failed.

  A cough came from behind him. “It’s rechargeable and has four settings,” said Geena.

  Damien gritted his teeth. He wanted to act nice, but why did people always make it so difficult? The journalists who interviewed him asked the same questions over and over until he wanted to punch something. And these women were clearly more interested in making fun than buying anything.

  He stalked back to the counter. Geena could deal with them. He was here to save her store, not smile at the customers.

  Sure enough, after a lot of sniggers and elbowing, they eventually bought the handcuffs and veil that Geena showed them. They also spent a considerable amount of money on a pair of crotchless panties, a sash that said Spank The Bride, and the most enormous vibrator he’d ever seen.