Marrying the Manhattan Millionaire
Page 13
“I’m not promising anything,” the woman warned. “But I’ll talk to her. After all, while she’s been tenacious, she’s also been the least offensive one from her agency to approach me. Perhaps I’ve been unfair.”
“Thanks.”
Sidney waved her hand in dismissal. “Fools,” he thought he heard her mutter as he walked away.
“Sam.” Michael reached for her arm, stopping her in her tracks a dozen feet from where Sidney stood. “I have to talk to you.”
“In a minute.”
“Now.”
She glanced up at him. “Can’t it wait, Michael? Sidney is right there. And she’s alone.”
“I know. That’s what I need to talk to you about. Please.”
“But—”
“Trust me,” he said.
He experienced relief and something far deeper when Sam nodded and let him lead her to a quiet corner of the room.
“I was talking to Sidney and she mentioned how much she hates being approached in public about work. Apparently, she’s especially irritated with your father for ‘accosting’ her assistant, and that’s a quote.”
“That would explain the cold shoulder she’s been giving me.”
“Yes.”
“So talking to her now would be the kiss of death.” Sam closed her eyes and let out a sigh. “Great. She won’t return my calls and the one time I see her I can’t talk to her about business.”
He squeezed her arm. “Call her Monday.”
“Why? What difference will it make?” Sam asked.
“Call her.” He smiled and for a second time said, “Trust me, okay?”
“What did you do, Michael?”
He shrugged. “I just told her the truth. That you’re one of the best in the business.”
Sam swallowed. “You did that? For me? Why?”
A number of reasons came to mind. The one he offered was, “When I beat you, I want it to be fair and square.”
The phone rang first thing the following morning. Sam had to wriggle from beneath Michael’s heavy arm to reach for it.
Into the receiver she offered a sleepy, “Hello.”
“What happened after Roger and I left last night?”
It was her father. Apparently, he’d decided he couldn’t wait until Monday morning to get a report.
“What time is it?” she mumbled, pushing the hair out of her eyes so she could squint at the clock. It was barely 8:00 a.m.
“Never mind the time,” he said impatiently. “Did you talk to Sidney last night? What did she say?”
“I…I’m to call her Monday.”
“And?” Randolph pressed.
“There is no and. I imagine she’ll let me know then if she wants to set up an appointment.”
“That’s all?” His disappointment came through loud and clear.
“That’s more than Roger has managed while working behind my back,” she snapped. “And by the way, Dad, it turns out that Sidney is a little peeved with you for approaching her assistant at the gym and tricking him into confirming the rumors. That’s why she hasn’t returned any of my calls. I’m lucky she’s agreed to speak to me at all.”
She glanced at Michael, who had begun to stir. Lucky, she thought again, when his eyes opened and his lips curved in irresistible invitation.
“Well, all that is water under the bridge now,” Randolph was saying. “We’ll get together first thing Monday and you, Roger and I can—”
Whatever else her father was about to say was lost as Sam hung up the phone.
“Good morning,” she told Michael.
“Yeah.” Pulling her close, he murmured against her neck, “I know a way to make it even better.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
SAM was smiling when she arrived at the Bradford Agency bright and early Monday. She and Michael had spent the entire weekend together, visiting with Sonya on Saturday, after which they’d enjoyed a quiet dinner in her apartment. As for Sunday, they’d spent most of it in bed talking, reading, watching old movies and making love.
In addition to showing Sam how much he loved her, Michael had said the words, quietly, passionately and with the hint of a promise.
This morning, before they’d each headed off to their respective places of work, he’d kissed her soundly before hailing her a cab.
“Good luck.”
“Same to you,” she’d said.
“Dinner tonight?”
“Yes. And let’s eat in again.” She’d grinned, he’d groaned and all had been right with the world…until she walked into her office half an hour later.
Randolph was in the chair behind her desk, peering at the screen of her computer, which had been booted up. Roger was sifting through some mock-ups that Sam had had the art department prepare the previous week.
“What’s going on? What are you doing in here?” she demanded, setting her attaché case aside.
“We’re just doing some prep work for your meeting with Sidney. I expected you to be in earlier,” Randolph said, his tone censorious.
“It’s only eight o’clock. And I don’t have a meeting with Sidney.” Yet, she added silently. “She said to call her after lunch.”
“Have a seat. Between now and then I want you to become acquainted with some of the ideas Roger has and work them into your campaign.”
“Work them into—” Sam was seething. She was furious and ready to blow. She inhaled deeply, trying to employ the breathing technique she’d relied on in the past to help her relax. Instead of expelling the breath slowly, she let it whoosh out along with a couple of choice expletives. She didn’t want to relax.
“Absolutely not! I have a clear vision for Herriman Hotels. If I get the account and once I’ve met with the Herriman people, if they decide they want something different than what I have to offer, then and only then,” she stressed, “will I make changes.”
“There’s no i in teamwork, Sam,” Roger intoned at the same time her father said, “Be reasonable.”
“Being reasonable hasn’t gotten me very far with you, Dad.” She crossed her arms. A couple of ultimatums came to mind. She opted to keep the more permanent one in reserve. “I do this my way or I don’t make the call. Since she won’t take one from either of you, think carefully before making your decision.”
For the rest of the morning, Sam remained closeted in her office, going over the data from the market research department, Herriman’s current advertising strategy and paring down her pitch enough to pique Sidney’s curiosity.
It was five minutes past one o’clock when she reached for the phone and with a shaking finger dialed the advertising manager’s number. When the receptionist put her right through Sam nearly sighed, but then Sidney was on the other end of the line.
“Samantha, hello.”
“Hello and thank you for taking my call.”
“You’ve been pretty persistent,” Sidney said coolly.
It wasn’t exactly what Sam wanted to hear. She cleared her throat and fingered the sheaf of papers before her on the desk blotter. “Yes. Well, I know you’re a busy woman so I’ll try to make this as brief as possible, while also keeping it irresistible. Quite obviously, the Bradford Agency wants your account. And I think we can offer you an effective multimedia campaign unlike anything you’ll get elsewhere.”
It was as far as she got before Sidney stopped her. “I’m sorry. I don’t want to waste any more of your time or mine. We’ve already made a decision.”
“A decision,” Sam repeated dully.
“Yes. Goodbye.”
Sam hung up the phone in a daze. What had just happened here? She was still trying to figure that out when Randolph barged into her office a little later.
“I don’t get it. Why would she agree to talk to you and then make a decision before even taking your call? Instead of acting as if you were on a date with Lewis, you should have given her something to whet her appetite on Friday. God!” he thundered. “I can’t believe you let an account this large jus
t slip away.” He shook his head in disgust as he stalked about the room, muttering other comments under his breath. Finally, his anger spent, he asked, “What agency did they go with?”
“I don’t know.”
“Most likely Grafton Surry,” Randolph sneered. “Michael is probably out celebrating even as we speak. Hell, he probably had the account all sewn up on Friday and let Sidney string you along.”
“No. Michael would have no reason to do that.”
“Revenge,” Randolph replied. “I told you that once, and you wouldn’t listen.”
Revenge. That wasn’t what Michael was after.
“He wouldn’t do that,” she said. But might he have told Sam to call Monday rather than risk having her pique Sidney’s interest at the ball, especially if he knew the Herriman people would be making a decision soon?
No, she told herself. Absolutely not. But doubts niggled, growing more insistent when she hadn’t heard from him by late afternoon. Sam considered calling him, but in the end decided this was a conversation that needed to occur face to face.
She’d never been to the offices of Grafton Surry. She barely noticed the tasteful furnishings and artwork now as she followed the receptionist to the one where Michael sat behind a desk.
“Hey, Sam. I take it you heard the news about Herriman?” he said when they were alone. His phone began to ring, but he ignored it.
“Yes, I did. I got it from the horse’s mouth, so to speak, when I called Sidney.”
“Oh. That stinks.”
“Yeah.” She tilted her head to one side and studied him. “I’m surprised you didn’t call after you got word.”
“I wanted to, but I’ve been tied up in a meeting. This is the first break I’ve had all afternoon.”
I bet, she thought. But then she reminded herself not to jump to conclusions. The pledge lasted only until the receptionist poked her head around the door a moment later to inform him, “I have Sidney Dumont on the line, Mr. Lewis. She said she needs to speak to you again.”
Michael blinked and Sam gave him high marks for managing to act so surprised. Where her father’s betrayals hurt, this one cut to the bone.
“My God, Michael. I can’t believe you did this.”
“What are you talking about?”
She shoved the hair back from her face. “Offering that tripe about Sidney not liking to be approached outside of work and then getting me to wait to talk to her until today when you knew damned well it would be too late.”
“I knew no such thing. I was just as surprised as you when she called to say they’d made a decision.”
She shook her head in disgust. “What was it you said that night when I asked you why you would encourage Sidney to hear me out? That you wanted to beat me fair and square. And to think I believed you.”
“I didn’t lie, Sam.” He reached for arm, but she tugged it away. “Why would I lie?”
“I think I’ve already spelled it out.”
“You’re not making sense.”
“No, Michael. I’m finally done letting my emotions run my life and rule my career.”
Michael wasn’t sure what had just happened. All he knew was that he didn’t understand any of it. He hadn’t lied about anything and he sure as hell hadn’t set Sam up for failure.
Glancing up, he realized the receptionist and Russ were standing in the same doorway through which Sam had just exited. The receptionist looked embarrassed to have overheard the private exchange. Russ looked livid.
“Miss Dumont on line one,” the young woman reminded him before turning to leave.
“I want to see you immediately after you hang up,” Russ barked ominously.
“Sidney, hello. Calling back to tell me you made a mistake and want to go with Grafton Surry?”
She chuckled. “Sorry. Actually, it occurred to me that when we spoke earlier I should have apologized about Samantha Bradford. I told you to have her call, but then we wound up moving more quickly than I anticipated.”
“I figured that out.”
“Anyway, I’m sorry. For what it’s worth, I think it’s probably a good thing that neither of you got the account, given how hungry you both were for it.”
Michael thanked her and hung up. He doubted Sam would agree, especially since at the moment she thought Michael had bested her. She’d know better, of course, if she had allowed him a chance to tell his side of things. But no, she’d jumped to the wrong and unflattering conclusion that he’d cheated. Michael’s anger spiked, but then, just as quickly, it ebbed. He had a choice to make. He could simmer in his own self-righteousness and let her walk out of his life as he had done seven years ago or he could go after her and try to put things right.
Back then they’d both been too hard-headed to compromise. He didn’t intend to let miscommunication stand between them a second time.
Michael was on his way to the elevator when he remembered Russ and made what he hoped would be a quick detour to his supervisor’s office. When he left Grafton Surry two hours later, it was with the boxed-up belongings from his desk and a supreme sense of satisfaction.
Sam glanced through the peep hole and clenched her teeth. She’d have to have a word with the doorman about letting just anyone up.
“Come on, Sam,” Michael hollered. “I know you’re in there. I’ve already been to your office.”
It was only out of deference to her neighbors that she opened the door the width of the security chain and, glaring, informed him, “Then you know that I no longer work there.”
“I heard that, yes. Was it because of what happened with the Herriman account?”
“The Herriman account was the last straw of many,” she replied.
“I’m sorry, Sam.” Michael shook his head. “I can’t believe he fired you.”
“You think I was fired?” Her laughter was brittle. “I quit.”
She enjoyed watching Michael’s mouth fall open. When he recovered from his surprise, he asked slowly, “How do you feel about that?”
“Good.” She nodded for emphasis when she added, “Great, in fact, even though he threatened to disown me. You know, that’s when it struck me. To disown somebody you have to own them first. And when you own somebody they’re a possession, not a person.”
Michael’s expression turned soft. “Come on, Sam. Let me in so we can talk.”
“What more is there to say? Congratulations?”
He shrugged. “If you really want to offer those, you’ll have to call William Daniels at Quest Advertising.”
“What?” she asked, sure she’d heard him wrong.
“He got the account.” Michael shook his head, looking chagrined. “I’d sure as hell like to know what he offered that was better than what I did.”
Sam slammed the door in his face, but only to undo the chain and fling it back open. “I thought you got it.”
“Yes.” He rubbed his chin. “I realized that when you were standing in my office making all sorts of wild accusations and refusing to listen to my side of the story.”
“I…but you…and then Sidney…oh.” Sam decided it was best to stop talking.
“You’re kind of cute when you’re in the wrong.” He tipped up her chin with his index finger and dropped a kiss on her lips. “And I have to say, I never thought I’d see the day you were rendered all but speechless.”
“You’re enjoying this?” Her bafflement was real. She’d accused him of horrible things, yet here he was at her door making light of it.
“I wouldn’t say I’m enjoying it, exactly. Do you know why I came here, Sam?”
She wasn’t sure of anything at the moment, except that she owed him one huge apology, so she shook her head.
“I came here because seven years ago I was the one jumping to all the wrong conclusions and failing to let you explain. That bit of stupidity cost me dearly.”
“Michael—”
He laid his fingers over her lips. “Let me finish, Sam. This needs to be said. I don’t know how I g
ot through the past seven years of my life without you. I did, but only because I was too proud and too pigheaded to call you back and try to work things out.”
“I could have done that, too,” she said. “We’re both at fault.”
“I know that. Don’t think I’m letting you off the hook completely, sweetheart, either then or now,” he said with a grin, but then his expression sobered. “It’s just that this time, I decided that no matter who was the one jumping to conclusions, I wasn’t going to risk losing you again. So here I am, on your doorstep.” She watched him swallow. “Are you going to let me in?”
Tears spilled down Sam’s cheeks as she reached for him and pulled him inside. With her cheek pressed against his, she whispered, “I love you, Michael.”
“I love you, too.”
Though they’d made love just that morning, when they did so now much had changed. They had changed, Sam realized, both of them breaking free of the past.
She sighed contentedly as she lay next to Michael and the shadows grew long in her bedroom.
“So, what are you going to do now?” Michael asked.
“I was thinking about ordering takeout. I’m starving and I want to keep up my strength.”
His laughter shook the bed. “I second that idea, but I was talking about your job.”
“Ah. Do you know if Grafton Surry is hiring?” she asked.
He levered up on one elbow. “As a matter of fact, they are.”
“Great. Maybe you can put in a good word for me. It might be nice for us both to work at the same agency for a change.”
“I was thinking the same thing.” He grinned, but left her confused when he said, “But that won’t happen at Grafton Surry.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t work there any longer.”
“What?” She sat up, causing the covers to fall away from her breasts. When Michael’s gaze lowered, Sam poked his bare chest. “Focus, Lewis.”
“I am.”
“On the conversation,” she said dryly. “You were saying?”
“I quit today, too.”
“You quit?”
“Resigned. It sounds nicer and you know how I am about phrasing.”