Marrying the Manhattan Millionaire

by Braun, Jackie

  “Did you have to put it like that? The mental image is…” He closed his eyes and groaned.

  “Sorry.” And she was. Michael wasn’t the only one getting wound up. “Maybe we should talk about other things.”

  “Yes. Please. Although, let me say, we were good together, Sam. And I’m not just talking about in the bedroom.”

  She smiled and, as promised, changed the subject.

  “I probably shouldn’t ask this, but I’ve been dying to know. How did your meeting with Sidney go?”

  “Well, I probably shouldn’t tell you this, but it went well.” It wasn’t arrogance that lit up his eyes. It was excitement as he offered the highlights. “I wanted to call you afterward, just because I knew you’d understand how pumped up I was.” He sobered then. “Hell, Sam, I’ve wanted to call more than just then. I’ve picked up the phone at least a dozen times with the intention of dialing your number.”

  “But you haven’t.”

  “No.” He unbuttoned his tuxedo jacket and tucked his free hand into the front pocket of his trousers. “What about you? Have you been tempted to call me?”

  “Not in the least. I’ve wanted to see you,” she admitted to him. To herself she added, and touch you, make love to you.

  “And here I am.” The carnal edge to his smile made her wonder if he’d been reading her mind.

  “Did you come alone?”

  “There was no one else I wanted to bring.” Something behind Sam snagged Michael’s attention then and his expression changed from turned on to ticked off. “I see you didn’t have that problem.”

  Sam followed the direction of Michael’s gaze. Just inside the entrance to the Grand Ballroom stood her father.

  “What’s he doing here?” she hissed.

  Michael’s attention snapped back to her. “You didn’t know he was coming?”

  “No. He said he had a late meeting with…a potential client,” she finished as the edges of her vision turned red.

  Her father was decked out in formal wear and already working the room like the professional he was, shaking hands, slapping backs and making introductions with Roger Louten, one of Bradford’s newest account executives, at his side. When he spied Sam, Randolph’s thousand-watt smile dimmed. Did he feel guilty at being caught or was he merely annoyed? At the moment Sam didn’t really care.

  She saw him lean over to say something to Roger, apparently excusing himself. A moment later he joined her and Michael.

  “Hello, Samantha.”

  Randolph pointedly ignored Michael, who took a step back and said, “I’ll go find us a couple of seats.”

  When they were alone, her father demanded in a hushed tone, “What are you doing here?”

  “I guess you could say I have a late meeting with a potential client,” she replied, parroting his earlier words. “I think we both know who that potential client is. How could you go behind my back this way, Dad?”

  “I haven’t gone behind your back. I’m just offering a little assistance. We work on the same team, remember. Michael Lewis is the one you have to watch out for.”

  She didn’t see it that way. Michael might be her rival, but he respected her talents far more than her father did. Indeed, if they were talking adversaries, Sam considered Roger a bigger one than Michael ever was. “Why is Roger here, Dad? You think I need help landing this account so you bring in someone who’s been with our agency all of a year?”

  “It’s not like that.” But he glanced away, tugged on his mustache, leaving Sam with the sinking certainty that it was exactly like that. “He’s a smart young man, if a little green. I thought you both might benefit from working together on this account.”

  “When were you going to mention this to me?” But then she shook her head. “No, what I really want to know is, how long ago did you make this decision?”

  “I’ve had Roger working on it for a couple of weeks now. You weren’t getting anywhere, Sam.”

  It took an effort to maintain her composure. Her voice rose only a little as she replied, “I beg to differ! I’ve spent hours researching the market and spent late nights working up a creative strategy.”

  “That’s your strength,” Randolph agreed, throwing her a bone. “Roger, however, is more aggressive than you are. He’s made several contacts with Sidney’s people.”

  She expelled a breath and in a dry tone said, “And yet we’re both here tonight trying to get a few minutes of her time. It doesn’t appear that wonder boy is all that wonderful, and I’m not sharing my account with him. I don’t care if we’re on the same team or not.”

  “This isn’t your call.”

  She crossed her arms. “It should be and you know it.” In the hope that he would see reason, she pointed out for a second time, “I’m the one who first heard the rumors and followed up on them. I’ve done the research, spent hours on it as a matter of fact. You know that, since you’ve dogged me every step of the way.”

  “I’m sorry, Sam. We can’t afford to let an account of this size slip to a competitor.”

  “And you have so little faith in my ability after my seven years at Bradford that you think I’d allow that to happen?”

  “It’s not personal,” he said.

  Would he offer that same excuse if in the end he handed over the reins of the agency to someone else? “It is, Dad. It’s completely personal. You’ve never believed in me. Not when I was twelve or twenty or even now that I’m in my thirties. Sonya could do no wrong as far as you were concerned and I still can’t get anything right.”

  “Sam, please.” He rolled his eyes. “Now is not the time for female histrionics or family squabbles.”

  She chose to ignore the female histrionics comment, but not the other. “When is the time for family disagreements? We rarely socialize outside of work, Dad. When you get right down to it, our relationship is far more professional than it is personal.”

  “You’ve been listening to Lewis again,” he accused. “He’s always been eager to turn you against me.”

  “Do you really think he’s had to try? You’ve managed that all on your own.”

  “Don’t push it, Sam.”

  “Or what? You’ll disown me? You’ll fire me?” She expelled a liberating breath. “Aren’t they one and the same thing where our relationship is concerned?”

  Randolph’s jaw clenched. She expected an explosion. Instead he said, “Let’s mind the matter at hand and leave this for another time. I see that Roger has already managed to engage Ms. Dumont in conversation.”

  He sounded so triumphant that Sam had to say, “I’ve talked to Sidney tonight, too. I was introduced to her just before you arrived.”

  Randolph’s eyes narrowed, but at least she had his full attention. “And?”

  Although it was an utter embellishment of the truth, Sam said, “She promised me a moment of her time later this evening.” She gestured toward Roger, who apparently was receiving the same cool reception and quick dismissal Sam had earlier. “It doesn’t appear she appreciates having another Bradford representative stalking her between now and then.”

  Randolph nodded begrudgingly. “Roger and I will leave after dinner. But you’d better have something concrete to show for tonight or changes may be in order.”

  She resented the warning. Even more, she hated that it had her stomach knotting with the same dread she’d always experienced as a child. “Of course,” she said just as Michael returned.

  Turning to her father, she said a little awkwardly, “You remember Michael.”

  “Only too well,” Randolph muttered as his gaze slid to the side. Not surprisingly, he failed to offer a hand.

  Michael took his rudeness in stride. “Hello, Randolph. It’s been a while.”

  “Not long enough. And I prefer that you call me Mr. Bradford,” came her father’s stony reply.

  “Gee, and to think that at one time I was all set to call you Dad.”

  Sam felt her lips twitch as her father’s face turned an unbec
oming shade of purple. Michael and her father had never gotten along, and it had irked Randolph to no end that he’d been unable to intimidate the younger man.

  He turned to Sam. “If you’re really serious about the matter we just discussed, Samantha, you’d better think twice about the company you keep.”

  Her mirth of a moment ago evaporated. “I have.”

  “Good.” Randolph flashed a smile at Michael. “Roger and I will save you a place at our table.”

  “That won’t be necessary.” She pushed her arm through Michael’s. “I have other plans. I’ll see you Monday morning.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  MICHAEL didn’t say anything as he escorted Sam to the seats he’d found for them at a table near the stage. Even though he was pleased and a little surprised by the way she’d just stood up to her father, he didn’t think she’d appreciate hearing him say so at the moment. She looked wound tight enough to explode.

  A couple of other people were already seated at their table. They introduced themselves, chatted briefly, as was only polite. Once they were settled in their seats, he told her, “I took the liberty of getting you another glass of champagne.”

  “I could use something a little stronger than that,” she muttered.

  “What would you like?” When he started to rise, she stopped him by laying a hand on his arm.

  “That’s okay, Michael. I need to keep a clear head.” She huffed out a breath, looking both angry and perplexed when she added, “Suddenly everything seems to be riding on tonight.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Never mind.”

  “So you didn’t know Randolph was coming,” he remarked casually.

  “No. Of course, I kept him in the dark about my plans, too.”

  “Why?”

  She shook her head, as if to signal an end to the questioning, but then she admitted, “Dad’s been flyspecking my every move ever since I told him about Herriman. He’s always badgering me for an update and when I don’t have anything new to report, which lately I haven’t, he’s…” Sam sighed.

  She didn’t have to finish. Michael knew just how unreasonable and demanding her father could be, especially when it came to his younger daughter.

  “So, who’s the guy he brought with him?”

  “Apparently, competition,” she grumbled.

  “What?”

  She shook her head. “Forget it.”

  When she remained silent, Michael coaxed, “Come on. You can talk to me, Sam. Friend to friend.”

  Sam turned sideways in her chair and faced him fully. “Is that what we are, Michael? Friends?”

  A pair of dark eyes brimmed with other, more specific questions regarding their relationship. He had answers for her. Suddenly, he had answers for himself, but now was neither the right time nor place. So he offered a trimmed-down version of the truth.

  “We’re also a lot more than friends, and I’m not referring to anything to do with our careers.”

  She closed her eyes and sighed. “It doesn’t matter anyway. Here I’ve been worried about you and it turns out that my biggest adversary is in the office three doors down the hall.”

  “The guy with your father,” he surmised.

  “Roger Louten,” she spat out the name. “He’s a young and very hungry account executive. Dad hired him fresh from college barely a year ago, and I just found out that he’s been working on the Herriman account behind my back. Dad tried to pass it off as wanting me to act as a mentor. You know, help season the new kid. But that doesn’t change the fact that my father is treating me like an inexperienced rookie.”

  Michael seethed for her at the insult. Sam was so damned talented and creative. Her campaigns were nothing shy of brilliant. If her peers in the industry recognized that, why couldn’t her father?

  “What an ass,” he mumbled.

  “Who? Roger, Randolph or me?” Her laughter was laced with disgust. “And I had to go and inflate the truth, make it sound like Sidney has agreed to talk to me this evening.”

  “The night’s young. You can make that happen.” He didn’t stop to question why he hoped that Sam got her chance. Suddenly calling the Herriman account his wasn’t as important as seeing Sam happy and confident again.

  “God, I hope so.”

  Because she sounded so glum, he said, “Even if it doesn’t, it’s not the end of the world. Call her office first thing Monday and go from there.”

  “Monday will be too late. You’re right about my father, Michael. You’ve always been right.”

  He knew that, of course, but it pained him to see her so miserable, so damned defeated. “I’m sorry, Sam. For what it’s worth, I don’t want to be right.” When her eyes grew bright and he saw her swallow, his own throat ached. “Don’t, Sam,” he whispered hoarsely and reached for her hand. “Don’t cry.”

  She blinked rapidly and worked up a smile, rallying in a way that made Michael proud of her and eager to go a few rounds in a boxing ring, gloves optional, with Randolph.

  “Thanks.” She squeezed his hand, laced her fingers through his. “If nothing else good comes of tonight, at least I got to dance with you.”

  Michael blinked in confusion. “Did I miss something? The music hasn’t started yet.”

  “No, but when it does I know you’ll ask me.”

  “I will,” he promised. Not only because Samantha Bradford was a hard woman to resist, but because Michael no longer wanted to.

  They dined on mixed baby greens drizzled in a light vinaigrette, grilled salmon served on a bed of asparagus risotto and tender green beans topped with sliced almonds. Though the food was first class, Sam merely picked at it. Michael understood completely her lack of appetite. But when dessert arrived, she perked up considerably. It was a rich chocolate layer cake topped with a fresh raspberry sauce and chocolate shavings.

  “Appetite coming back?” he asked, as she nipped off a corner with her fork.

  “It’s chocolate, Michael. I’d have to be dead not to eat chocolate.” She eyed his cake. “Are you going to eat that?”

  “Yeah. But I could be persuaded to share.”

  “How so?”

  “I’ll tell you later.”

  And he did, while they danced, holding Sam close and whispering a suggestion in her ear that made them both eager to call it an evening. First, though, Sam needed to speak to Sidney.

  Michael walked the perimeter of the room while Sam went to the ladies’ room to freshen up. Sidney actually found him.

  “I couldn’t help but notice how cozy you were with Samantha Bradford on the dance floor,” she remarked. “I find that rather interesting considering that you’re both after the same thing.”

  Yes, they were. And it had nothing to do with advertising, he thought. But he said, “Business is business.”

  “Yes.”

  “You don’t seem to like her,” he commented. “Or maybe I’m reading you wrong.”

  “You’re not reading me wrong. I don’t like pushy advertising execs who step over boundaries. The Bradford Agency seems to be full of them. Her father accosted my assistant at the gym, got him to confirm that we were looking for new blood before I was ready to do so publicly. Now tonight, both she and another young man from their agency have approached me.”

  “Sam didn’t approach you,” he felt compelled to point out. “Actually, you approached the two of us and I introduced you. Work was never mentioned.”

  Sidney let out an indelicate snort. “Yes, but it’s a good bet it would have been, given the number of times she’s called my office in the past few weeks.”

  “Can I ask why you haven’t returned her calls?”

  “Call it an idiosyncrasy of mine,” Sidney said with a wave of her hand. “I spend nearly seventy hours in my office each week. When I leave for the day, I prefer not to discuss work unless it’s with my employer. I certainly don’t appreciate having my assistant ambushed after hours.”

  “So you’ve blackballed the Bradford Agen
cy,” he said.

  “Yes.”

  “That’s a shame.”

  “A shame?” Sidney eyed him in surprise. “I should think that news would make you happy. I plan to make my decision soon and there are already enough hats in the ring. Don’t you want to come out on top?”

  “I like to be the best,” Michael said slowly. “To that end I prefer to compete against the best.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “You’re saying Samantha Bradford is so good you wouldn’t mind losing to her.”

  “Oh, I’d mind,” he corrected. “But I’d know the best campaign won.”

  “With all of the other advertising executives out there, you assume that one or the other of you is the best?”

  “That’s right,” he agreed with a nod.

  “You’re cocky, Michael.” But Sidney chuckled.

  “I’ve been told that before. I like to think of myself as confident.”

  “Yes, well, for all that I still like you.” Sidney tilted her head to one side. “Does Samantha Bradford know how much you love her?”

  Michael swallowed. That obvious, he thought? He didn’t care. Shaking his head, he said, “I don’t think so, but I’m planning to remedy that soon.”

  Sidney laughed. “You do realize that yours is going to be a complicated relationship given your jobs?”

  “Yes.” But life without Sam had its own set of complications. He’d prefer her in it, and they could work out whatever problems arose, even if she forgave Randolph again and decided to stay at his agency.

  Over Sidney’s shoulder, he spied Sam. She was heading their way, no doubt preparing to offer a subtle pitch. Given what he’d just learned, he had to stop her. Otherwise she would blow what little chance she had of getting her foot in the door.

  “Will you excuse me?”

  “Of course.” Glancing in Sam’s direction, Sidney said, “Tell her to call my office on Monday. First thing after lunch.”

  He blinked in surprise. “Really?”