by Tami Hoag
Rationally Alec knew he shouldn’t go into a discussion about the new campaign for Glendenning’s most important client in such a state of mind, but the mood he was in caused him to lose all capacity for rational reasoning. It didn’t matter anyway, because he had already seen Steve Randall’s ideas for the campaign and had decided against them. Cute ads with cuddly animals weren’t Alec’s style. He preferred sleek, polished, sophisticated advertising.
Meeting with a man and his monkey didn’t appeal to him in the least right now. Of course, he thought, having to meet with anyone wouldn’t appeal to him.
Then he laid eyes on the woman who completed the quartet.
Her thick shoulder-length honey-blond hair was clipped back at the sides with black combs. Big eyes the color of faded denim stared at him from beneath brows that were a couple of shades darker than her hair. Too sexy, he thought, groaning inwardly, amazed that he could be so totally distracted by her when he was in such a rotten mood. No question, she appealed to him—enough to make him temporarily forget the headache knifing through his temples, enough to make him temporarily forget there was a chimpanzee in his office. She appealed to him from the tip of her upturned nose right down to the tan suede boots beneath her safari-look skirt. Everything about her appealed to him, even her direct stare—which was not unlike the stares everyone else in the room was focusing on him, including the monkey.
Steve Randall stepped forward nervously to make a round of introductions. “Kelsie, this is Mr. McKnight. Mr. McKnight, Kelsie Connors, representing Mr. Krispin. Mr. Krispin, Mr. McKnight.”
Alec reached out to shake Kelsie’s hand—the hand with the furry fingernails, she realized. He gave them a brief, curious look, but took her long, fine-boned hand in his, looked directly into her eyes, and gave her a charming smile that revealed gleaming white teeth, two deep dimples in his cheeks, and the hint of a cleft in his chin.
Kelsie’s heart flipped over like a beached salmon. She wouldn’t have said Alexander McKnight was extraordinarily handsome; some women may not have found him at all handsome. But that smile… it transformed his face so completely that the contrast took Kelsie’s breath away. It was mischievous and charming, boyish yet dangerously male. It was the kind of smile that must have saved him from dozens of spankings as a little boy, the kind of smile that opened doors for a man—boardroom and bedroom doors. It was cocky, playfully self-confident, and absolutely irresistible.
“Miss Connors?” he asked silkily, taking notice of the fact that she wasn’t wearing a wedding ring.
“Yes.” She just managed to resist the urge to laugh giddily.
“May I call you Kelsie? It’s a lovely name,” he said in a voice like velvet. No, she thought, it was more like satin—warm, smooth black satin, like satin sheets…
“Sure.” She sighed as he let her hand go. It dropped like a stone, shaking her out of the trance his voice and thousand-watt smile had cast over her. She blushed furiously. The future of her business depended on this meeting. She couldn’t very well let this man think she was some kind of bimbo, especially since she had always prided herself on her professionalism. “I mean, thank you, Mr. McKnight. Yes, please do call me Kelsie.”
Encouraged by the looks his boss was giving Kelsie, Steve grinned and said, “So, shall we get down to business, Alec?”
Alec shot him a scowl.
“M-Mr. McKnight,” he corrected himself nervously, slinking down on a chair.
Alec gave Millard Krispin a pale smile and a brief handshake. The man appeared to have crawled out of a laundry basket. The chimp was better dressed. Better looking, too, Alec thought. Millard looked as if he were chronically nauseated. He wore a wrinkled white shirt with an ink-stained pocket full of ballpoint pens, ankle-length powder-blue polyester pants, and black half-boots. The sight was enough to bring Alec’s headache back to his attention.
Millard leaned toward Kelsie as they all took seats. “No one introduced Darwin,” he complained, hurt and offended.
Kelsie patted his clammy hand on the arm of the chair. “Mr. McKnight—”
His smile was instantaneous as he leaned his forearms on the desk. “Alec.”
“Alec,” Kelsie repeated, her cheeks heating. For Pete’s sake, she hadn’t blushed in years! She was reacting like a teenager with a hormone imbalance. Breaking eye contact with him, she gestured toward the chimp on Millard’s lap. “This is Darwin, our star.”
Alec nodded, his dark brows bobbing over his eyes. He wasn’t quite sure how to respond.
“Say hello to the nice man, Darwin,” Millard told the chimp. “Say, ‘Hello, nice Mr. McKnight,’” he went on in a childish voice. “‘Pleased to meet you.’”
The guy was slipping a few gears, Alec thought. Kelsie pinched the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger, wondering if they had been wise in deciding to bring Darwin and Millard along. Steve had thought the chimp might be able to help their cause by charming McKnight. Darwin bared his teeth and hissed at Alec.
Alec sat back and cleared his throat. “I’m sure Steve has explained to you how we’re handling this campaign, Kelsie, Mr. Krispin. Eugene Van Bryant, head of the Van Bryant chain of stores, has asked me to oversee the project personally. I’ve asked all our top people to come up with ideas for the campaign, ideas I will screen. Finally, I will present what I consider to be the best of them to Mr. Van Bryant. The ultimate decision will be his.”
“Have you had a chance to look at my ideas, Mr. McKnight?” Steve asked.
“Ah—yes, I have,” Alec said, shuffling through the papers in front of him. “I’ll be honest with you, Steve. They’re not what I had in mind.”
Kelsie’s heart sank. If Alexander McKnight didn’t like their idea, Kelsie figured she’d be selling lingerie at night until she was eighty.
“But I’m willing to listen,” Alec added, catching himself staring at Kelsie Connors’s mouth. It looked so soft. He wondered what it would taste like, then shook his head. How could he be thinking about kissing Kelsie Connors when he should be concentrating on business? How he could be thinking anything pleasant about women in general after his visit from Vena was beyond him.
“That’s all I ask.” Steve grinned, his spirits lifting. He scooted to the edge of his chair, brown eyes glowing. “I see an entire series of ads—print and video—with Darwin as the star. Just Darwin and Van Bryant merchandise, which, I might point out, is very cost effective. Compared to what we would have to pay models or actors, Darwin here works for peanuts, or, I should say, bananas.”
“That’s a valid point,” Alec conceded, frowning in concentration as he doodled a nasty caricature of Vena on his ink blotter. “However, our main concern has to be the quality and tone of the ads. Van Bryant’s has always appealed to a more sophisticated customer.”
“True,” Steve said. “But they’re looking to broaden their customer base. Traditionally they’ve been thought of only as an upper-class chain. Now they want to capture those yuppie spending dollars, bring in the middle-class, white-collar baby boomers, and baby boomettes.
“The way I see it, they need an ad campaign with mass appeal, something that will make Van Bryant’s seem friendly, welcoming, fun.”
Darwin left his owner’s lap for Kelsie’s, wrapping one long hairy arm around her shoulders. He fingered the cameo she wore at the throat of her khaki cotton blouse. As comfortable with animals as she was with children, Kelsie smiled at him and gently tickled his tummy.
“What’s more fun than a monkey?” Steve asked, smiling his most engaging smile.
Millard sat up, ready for a fight. “Darwin is not a monkey.”
“Figure of speech,” Steve said between clenched teeth.
Darwin became interested in the items on Alec’s desk. He scooted forward on Kelsie’s lap, his fingers reaching out to caress an appointment book, a rough pottery cup filled with pens, a heavy glass paper weight. Each piece he moved, Alec reached out and moved back.
“Animals are very h
ot right now,” Steve continued. “Darwin could be to Van Bryant’s what Spuds MacKenzie is to Budweiser. And I think the slogan is very catchy and adaptable to all of Van Bryant’s merchandise.” He held his hands up as if he were picturing the slogan on a billboard. “‘When it comes to fashion, don’t monkey around. Van Bryant’s.’”
Millard sucked in a horrified breath, drawing everyone’s attention. “Darwin is not a monkey!” he said emphatically.
Kelsie rushed to placate him, wishing—not for the first time—that Millard Krispin weren’t so unbalanced. “Millard, like Steve said, it’s just a figure of speech. I’m sure everyone will realize Darwin isn’t a monkey. And you’ll have to agree, ‘Don’t chimpanzee around’ doesn’t have quite the right ring to it.”
Millard sat back, breathing heavily. “I guess you’re right, Kelsie.” He pushed his glasses up on his nose and leveled a serious look at Alec. “I’m sorry for my outburst, Mr. McKnight. I hope you understand I’m only looking out for Darwin’s interests. I have to make sure he isn’t exploited in any way.”
“Of course.” Alec nodded gravely, rubbing his temples. This guy belongs in a home for the chronically weird, he decided.
Kelsie reached for her briefcase as Darwin scrambled back to his owner’s lap. “I have a file here with photos of Darwin’s previous ad experience. While he hasn’t worked on television, he’s appeared in newspaper and regional magazine ads for children’s clothes—which were done by your firm—Metro Animal Hospital, Tanner’s Bookstores, and—” She popped open the lid on the case and her stomach did a cartwheel. Instead of files and papers and photographs, she found bras and garter belts. The words escaped her lips on a thready breath. “Naughty Nighties.”
“I beg your pardon?” Alec leaned forward. He could have sworn she’d said “Naughty Nighties.” How could a monkey advertise nighties? Now, Miss Connors herself…
Before she could slam the lid on the case, Darwin reached in and scooped out most of the contents. With a wild screech, he fired a frilly black bra at Alec slingshot style, catching him full across the face, then bounded across the room, flinging lingerie helter-skelter. Shrieking with delight, he pulled a pair of pink satin panties on over his head and leapt from the back of a cordovan leather sofa to hang from the drapery rod, slamming his feet against the window.
Millard was across the room in a flash, trying to coax the chimp down. “Darwin, what a bad boy you are! Come down and apologize to Mr. McKnight this instant!”
Steve fell back in his chair, groaning in defeat.
Alec peeled the bra off his face and stared at Kelsie. She had turned fuchsia. It was a good color on her, he thought. She cleared her throat, refusing to meet his gaze, and said, “I seem to have brought the wrong briefcase.”
“Indeed.” He was dying to know the story behind this briefcase, but he was sure he didn’t want anyone else around when she told it. A pretty blonde with sexy eyebrows who carried a briefcase full of erotic undies. Intriguing lady.
Millard returned to his seat with Darwin in his arms, the panties still on the chimp’s head. “I’m sorry, Mr. McKnight. Ordinarily Darwin is very professional. I don’t know what came over him. He just lost his head, I think.”
Alec surveyed his usually immaculate office with a pained smile. The drapery rod was bent so the drapes hung at drunken angles. There were monkey prints all over his view of the city. Garter belts hung from the potted palm like tinsel on a Christmas tree. He felt the last fiber of his temper fuse split but held himself in rigid check.
“Well,” he said, handing the bra back to Kelsie, “the sight of lacy underwear can do that to anyone.”
“Darwin,” Millard said to the chimp, who was holding up a see-through ivory lace teddy. “Apologize to Mr. McKnight. Say, ‘I’m very sorry, Mr. McKnight!’” he said in his childish voice. “Say, ‘I’ve been a very bad boy.’ Go tell him. Go apologize and give him an ‘I’m sorry’ kiss.”
Alec leaned back in his chair, on guard. “That’s really not necessary, Mr. Krispin.”
Millard ignored him, motioning Darwin to do as he was told. The chimpanzee grinned at him, draping the teddy over his owner’s head, then scrambled onto Alec’s desk, snatched up Alec’s coffee mug, and, before Alec could bolt, tossed cold coffee in his face.
Steve wailed and squeezed his eyes shut, visions of the unemployment office dancing in his head.
“Oh, Darwin!” Millard scolded, grabbing the chimp. “No ice cream for you tonight!”
Alec snagged the teddy off Millard’s head and dried his face with it. Pain was pounding in his temples, and, pretty blonde or no pretty blonde, his temper was about to erupt like Mount St. Helens. First Vena the Vampire, now a madman and his maniac monkey. It was just too much.
“Mr. Krispin,” he said threateningly, “will you please keep that animal under control?”
“Of course,” Millard replied, trying to wrap his arms around Darwin as he sat back in his chair. The chimp wriggled around until he was sitting on Millard’s shoulders and began playing his head like a bongo drum. “I think perhaps he’s been eating too much refined sugar. What do you think?”
Alec stood, bracing his hands on his desk and leaning across it. He stared at Millard and said in a low, tight voice, “I think you’ve got a screw loose.”
Millard gasped.
Kelsie snapped the lid shut on her briefcase of underwear and stood up, driven by a need to leave before she burst into tears and started reciting Chapter Eleven—the bankruptcy code. She had to get Millard and Darwin out of Alec McKnight’s office before the chimp did any more damage. The last thing she needed was to get embroiled in a lawsuit. As it was, Millard was going to have to pay the cleaning bill on an expensive wool suit and replace a drapery rod.
“Perhaps it would be better if we discussed this at another time,” she said, trying to cling to some tiny shred of hope, “without Darwin being present.”
“But Kelsie—” Millard whined, cutting himself off at a murderous look from his agent.
Alec handed her the lace teddy. “I think not, Miss Connors. I believe I can safely say Van Bryant’s would not be interested in a neurotic monkey with an underwear fetish.”
“How dare you!” Millard exclaimed.
Kelsie turned and gave him a shove toward the door. “Put a cork in it, Millard.”
TWO
“MOM, CAN I have a ’guana?” Jeffrey asked, trailing after Kelsie as she tried to get her things together for the lingerie party.
“A what?” she asked, shooing Cheevers, the striped cat, out of her tote bag. She had just enough time to get to the hostess’s house in the neighboring suburb of Hopkins and get set up.
“You know, a ’guana. They’re long and green and stick their tongues out.”
Kelsie stopped and thought for a moment. “An iguana!” she exclaimed, dismayed.
“Wow! Great! Thanks, Mom!”
She snagged him by the shoulder of his football jersey before he could make a getaway. “Whoa there! An iguana is a lizard. A lizard is a reptile. You know the rule: No reptiles.”
Her son looked as if she’d just told him he could never eat ice cream again. “But, Mom! Brent has one, and it’s so awesome!”
Kelsie gave him a look that said don’t give me any nonsense while she dug in her purse for her keys. “It’s a snake with legs. No, you may not have one.”
She bent and kissed his cheek. “I’ll be home around eleven. Please behave yourself and don’t fight with your sister.”
She almost made it to the door before the phone rang.
Jeffrey grabbed up the receiver from the phone on the entry table. “Connors residence, Jeffrey Connors speaking. Shoot man, it’s your quarter.” He looked up at his mother’s exasperated face as he listened to the caller. “Miss Who? Who wants to know?”
Kelsie rolled her eyes. Jeffrey was his father’s son when it came to etiquette. She clamped a hand over the mouth of the receiver as he handed it to her. “Who is it?�
��
He made a face as he wandered toward the couch. “Some night guy.”
Alec waited on the other end of the line, a little bewildered. He certainly hadn’t been expecting a little boy to answer Miss Kelsie Connors’s phone. Another bit of intrigue to add to the puzzle of who the lady with the sexy eyebrows was. He’d spent most of his afternoon thinking about her. There was a chemistry between them that deserved exploration. She’d distracted him from thoughts of Vicious Vena, distracted him from work. And she’d seemed interested in him. At least she had until that chimp had made a monkey out of him and he’d totally blown his cool.
After that little scene she probably thought he was a jerk. She probably thought he hated animals. A rude jerk who hated animals. A dog kicker.
He hung his head.
“Kelsie Connors.”
“Kelsie,” he said in his satin voice, instantly composed and confident, “this is Alec McKnight. Did I catch you at a bad time?”
Her heart pounding, Kelsie glanced at her watch. She was five minutes late. “No, not at all.” Not if it meant getting another shot at the Van Bryant campaign.
“I just wanted to apologize for this morning. I lost my temper. It was very unprofessional of me.”
Kelsie smiled a crooked little smile. “A chimpanzee threw coffee in your face. I think you have every right to be angry. By the way, send the cleaning bill to me, and I’ll have Millard take care of it.”
“Don’t worry about it.”
“I’m the one who should apologize—for Darwin’s behavior. He never acts up. I really don’t know what came over him.”
“Probably spending too much time with his owner,” Alec muttered to himself, compulsively straightening the items on the coffee table in front of him.
“What’s that?” Kelsie asked, leaning back against the wall, noting absently that her living room resembled an abandoned war zone.
“Ah—probably eating too much sugar. Listen, Kelsie,” he began, tugging on his earlobe, a habit he’d had ever since he’d been persuaded to give up thumb-sucking when he was four. “I was wondering if we could maybe get together—”