by Maria Geraci
Aubrey had emailed her all the information she could find on Martinez and Martinez. The firm used every kind of available media in their current campaign, but it was the billboards and TV spots that were most effective in terms of return on investment.
In Felicity’s mind, the TV ads were even worse than the billboards. Basically, it all came down to that horrible tagline, Watching out for The Little Man. The problem was that the tagline was so entrenched with the firm’s image that to change it now would be confusing to the public. Maybe she could come up with something similar enough that the brand would still be familiar, but different enough that it would sharpen their image.
“What are you doing?”
She dropped her sketchpad and looked up to see Jack staring down at her through a pair of sunglasses. She’d been so engrossed writing down and scratching through ideas that she hadn’t heard him sneak up.
She picked her sketchpad back up and tried not to stare at him. He had on a pair of board shorts and flip flops and nothing else, which was normal pool attire, but dear God, he wasn’t just some normal person. Normal people didn’t have broad shoulders that stretched out forever and six pack abs. How did he have time to get those abs anyway? Wasn’t he some kind of workaholic?
“I’m working on your ad campaign.”
“Can I see?”
“No.”
She hoped her simple one-word answer would discourage him and he’d go away, but instead he plopped himself down on the empty lounge chair next to her. “Why not? It’s my campaign.”
“And you’ll get a full presentation along with the rest of the partners at your firm when I’m done. Right now I’m in the creative phase.”
He leaned back in his chair like he was going to sleep.
Really? How on earth was she supposed to get anything done with him so…close by?
I’m not going sleep with him… I’m not going sleep with him… I’m not going to sleep with him…
Damn Aubrey for putting that idea in her head. Although, to be honest, she couldn’t blame Aubrey for that. The idea had been there since the moment she’d met him.
“Why don’t you go somewhere else?”
He raised his sunglasses to rest on top of his head and stared at her. “Why? Am I making you nervous?”
“Of course not, but I’m trying to concentrate and you’re distracting me with all your…questions.”
“It was only two questions, and you countered with one of your own.” There was a pause. “Are you trying to avoid me?”
“It was three questions and now that makes a fourth. Why would I want to avoid you?” It occurred to her that she’d never seen him look so relaxed. “What are you in such a good mood about, anyway? And why are you here? Aren’t you supposed to be at the beach barbeque?”
“I could ask you the same question.”
“Obviously, I’m working. I have a wedding to pay for, remember?”
“Only because you want to.” When she didn’t respond, he laced his hands behind his head and grinned. “And you’re right. Despite the fact that I have absolutely no reason to be, I am in a good mood.”
She shouldn’t ask him to follow up on that cryptic statement. She needed to ignore him and go back to her sketchpad, but there was something so adorably cute about the way the skin around his eyes crinkled. If this was the Jack Martinez on those billboards, he might start getting a different sort of client. An image of thousands of adoring women tying up the firm’s 1-800 number to ask if they could be the one to take care of Jack Martinez’s little man made her giggle.
“What’s so funny?”
“Believe me, you don’t want to know.” She sat up straight. “Wait. I know why you’re in a good mood. You finally talked to Mitch. They’ve definitely decided to do law school, right?”
“Nope. Haven’t gotten a chance to talk to him yet. But no worries, your pitch is still a go. My assistant is scheduling it for late next week.”
She had one week to whip up a killer presentation. Felicity gulped. She could do it, because she had to. “So if you haven’t gotten to talk to Mitch, why are you in such a good mood?”
He ignored her question. “Are you really going to keep that sketchpad of yours a secret? C’mon, let me look. I could help you.”
He had a point. And more importantly, he was the client. Plus, this new deadline was suddenly making her stomach cramp. What could it hurt to get some input? She handed him her sketchpad.
“Why do you have the word family in big caps with a circle around it?” he asked.
“It’s a like a central theme. All your billboards, all your ads, for that matter, feature the three of you as a family, so I thought we could use that.”
“Why is there so much scratched out? And what’s this drawing about?” He pointed to a quick sketch she’d made that could potentially work on a billboard. It was a house with a white picket fence around it, once again, emphasizing the family theme.
“I’m just brainstorming. You know, playing with words and pictures. Like this one here,” she leaned over and pointed to the first line on the page, “Let our family take care of yours. I like it, but it sounds more like a logo for a medical practice.”
He nodded, then read the second scratched out line. “Martinez and Martinez, putting your family first.”
“I really like that one,” she admitted, “but it’s still not right.”
“Did your dad teach you how to do this?”
“Not really. I have a degree in marketing, but I’ve always been creative.”
“And he wasn’t?”
She thought about it a minute. “He always had good ideas, but he was more of a salesman and a business guy. He could take someone else’s idea and sell it to anyone. That was his real strength.”
“But it’s not yours.” It was a statement. Not a condemnation of her abilities.
“Definitely not mine.”
“So did you always doodle like this? Even when you were a little girl?”
“Always. My mom used to…she used to encourage me to draw.” She shrugged, hoping he’d change the subject.
He flipped through the rest of the pages. “Do you want to get out of here?” he asked casually.
“Is that some sort of pick up line?”
“Is everything about sex to you?”
She scoffed. “No.” Well, with you around, maybe.
He looked like he was still waiting for an answer to his previous question. Perhaps what she needed was a distraction from her work. Sometimes her best ideas came when she wasn’t thinking too hard. She sighed. “Okay. Where do you want to go?”
He sat up quickly. “Seriously?”
She tossed the sketchpad inside her tote and stood. “I’m not going to get any work done with you hovering around so I might as well play along. So sure, where do you want to go?”
“I want to show you something. I’ll get my car and meet you by the entrance.”
“Car?” She glanced down at her bikini-clad self. “I need to change if we’re going off the resort.”
“This is a beach town. No one cares what you’re wearing.” He did a quick but thorough head-to-toe perusal. “Besides, I think you look perfect just the way you are.”
She flushed. He was the one who looked perfect just the way he was, but she wasn’t about to inflate his ego by telling him that. She took out a gauzy white beach cover up and pulled it over her head. It came to mid-thigh and was slightly see through, but he was right. This was a beach town and together with her flip-flops, she was as covered up as any of the other tourists walking around the island.
To her relief (and sanity) he also pulled on a T-shirt and they walked amiably toward the front of the resort. Felicity slid onto the leather passenger seat of the snappy red car. And with that, they were off. Jack didn’t go too fast, but he drove to the edge of the speed limit, driving with the sort of confidence that anyone who owned a car like this would have. She leaned back and enjoyed the feel of the hot
July air whip around her. They didn’t talk, but it wasn’t awkward. She was surprised, however, when he parked in what appeared to be the middle of downtown Mimosa Key.
He hopped out of the car and opened the door for her. “Thanks, but what are we doing here?” she asked.
“C’mon, I want to show you something.” He put out his hand and without thinking, she slipped her hand into his. His fingers gently squeezed around hers, and the whole thing felt so natural, it was scary. What was she doing holding hands with Jack Martinez in the middle of the afternoon like they were some sort of couple?
* * *
They walked half a block past the Lee County Sheriff’s office, past a slew of small shops to end up in front of the empty office he’d seen the other day.
“What do you think?” he asked.
She looked inside the glass window, then across the street and back again. “I think this whole place is absolutely charming.” Her time in the sun had made her freckles more prominent. When she wrinkled her nose like that… Damn, no one did confused cuter than Felicity Reed. “Are you thinking of opening a small business?”
“I’m thinking of opening up a law office here. Not right now of course, but maybe someday.” Why was he showing her this? And why did her opinion matter so much?
“Here? In Mimosa Key?”
“Why not? I already found my first client. The owner of a little tourist shop right down the street. She’s having some problems with her landlord so I called him yesterday afternoon and raised some hell. Then to reinforce it, I drafted a letter last night and had my secretary send it this morning.”
“That doesn’t sound like the kind of case Martinez and Martinez handles.”
“It isn’t.”
“It must be some big rental property, huh?”
“Not really.”
She was quiet for a few minutes, like she was taking in everything he’d just told her. She gazed at the office space again, then back at him. “This office isn’t for Martinez and Martinez,” she said finally. “It’s for just…Martinez. It’s just for you.” She blinked. “That’s why you want Mitch to go to law school. You want to leave the firm and you want him to take your place.”
He nodded, relieved that he didn’t have to explain it to her.
“Jack! I think that’s fabulous. But why wait? Why not just break off on your own now?”
“It’s not that easy.” He picked up her hand and once again she took it as if walking down the street with him was something she did every day. He told her about Dad’s high blood pressure and how the doctor had urged him to slow down at work.
“When I first started out, everything was about the client. I fought the hard fight because the people we represent need someone who isn’t afraid to stand up to the big insurance companies. But then it became more and more about just winning. And more money. And the more I won, the more money I made. For everyone. And now, it’s like I don’t even know why I do it anymore. But here, or someplace like here, I could start over. Just me. Just something…simple.”
“But, couldn’t you get one of the other partners at the firm to step up to the plate?”
“Sure. Maybe. There are a couple of them that would probably do a good job running things, but, like you said, it’s a family firm. It wouldn’t be the same.”
She looked like she wanted to say something more, but she dropped the subject. They kept walking till they reached a floral shop called Bud’s Buds, and her face went all soft, so they went inside where he found out her favorite flowers were daisies. He thought about buying her some, but then he spotted the Sunshine Emporium across the street.
“C’mon, I want you to meet someone.”
She cocked her head to the side. “How long have you been in this town?”
He grinned. “I spent a better part of yesterday getting to know a little about the local economy. But this lady is special. She’s my first solo client.” He led Felicity to the front of the tourist shop. They stopped before entering to admire the paintings propped up against the lower wall.
“They’re pretty good, huh? The woman who owns this store is also the artist behind those watercolors. I bartered my services yesterday for one of those. A Cuban beach scene that I think Abuela is really going to love.”
“They’re very good,” Felicity agreed.
She picked up one of the watercolors and studied it with an intensity that made Jack pause. “If you like, I could find out if her roof is leaking. That might be worth another painting for me.”
She laughed and carefully set the painting back where it had been. They went inside the shop, but instead of Beth, there was a woman in her early twenties working the counter.
“You just missed the boss lady,” the girl said. “She teaches a watercolor class over in Naples on Wednesday afternoons, but she’ll be back tomorrow.”
Felicity stared at a framed watercolor hanging next to a window above the cash register. It was a typical beach scene, but here the main focus was a sand castle that looked as if it had been built by a child’s hand. “Is this also by the same artist?” she asked the girl.
The young woman nodded. “Beth painted all the watercolors in the store. But that one isn’t for sale.”
“Beth,” Felicity said the name slowly as if testing it out. “It’s really lovely. Are you sure it’s not for sale?”
The woman shrugged. “You can always try. Like I said, she’ll be back tomorrow.”
“Thirsty?” Jack asked once they were outside the shop. It was almost four, the hottest part of the day.
“It’s like you can read my mind.”
They crossed the street and ended up at the Shell gas station convenience store on the corner of the four way stop. “The locals call this place the Super Min,” he told her.
They went inside and grabbed a couple of bottles of water, and on impulse he pulled two frozen ice-cream sandwiches from the deep freezer.
Felicity plucked one of the ice cream sandwiches from his hand and tore into it like she was starving. A thin stream of vanilla ice cream dripped down her chin. “Oh my God. I haven’t had one of these in ages.”
“Hungry?”
“Starving. I’m almost sad we missed the barbeque.”
“I’m not.” He reached out and used his thumb to wipe the ice cream off her chin.
She sucked in a breath. “Jack—”
“It’s customary to pay for your purchase before you eat it,” the convenience store clerk said. “You’re lucky I don’t call the police on you, young lady.”
The police? Was this woman for real? Jack frowned at the clerk as he handed her a twenty. Her rudeness was completely out of line. She was middle aged, with frizzy hair, and beady-looking eyes. The name tag above her shirt pocket read CHARITY.
Talk about ironic.
“Oops, sorry,” Felicity muttered. “But we’re going to pay for it.”
He thought about saying something to the woman, but decided against it. Felicity didn’t seem upset, and today was turning out to be one of the best days he’d had in a long time. He didn’t want to ruin it with any unpleasantness.
The clerk looked between the two of them like she was going to say something else, but then at the last minute, snapped her mouth shut. She picked up the bottles of water and the remaining ice cream sandwich and scanned the items like she was working in slow motion, all the while continuing to stare at him. Gradually, her expression morphed from one of irritation to absolute wonder.
“Excuse me,” the woman said, “But you seem so familiar. Are you on TV?”
He was debating whether to lie and say no, or admit that yes, he was on the commercial for ‘that law firm’ when Felicity spoke up. “Of course he’s on TV, and movies, too. Although,” she said with a dramatic sigh, “we were so disappointed that his role in Magic Mike 2 wasn’t bigger. They promised him a headline above that Channing Tatum.” She turned to him. “Honey, I really think you need to get a better agent.”
The w
oman blinked. “Magic Mike? You mean, the stripper movie? Oh my God. Wait till Patience hears this! You’re that guy on White Collar! Can I have your autograph?” she said to Jack. “Not for me, of course, but…my sister is a huge fan of yours!”
White Collar?
Felicity took the change from the woman, who seemed to be in some kind of trance. “I’m afraid Matt doesn’t give out autographs while he’s on vacation, but he’ll be happy to show you a few of his moves. Right, sweetie?”
Matt? What the hell was Felicity talking about? He was about to ask her but the twinkle in her eyes stopped him and told him to go along with whatever she was doing.
He cleared his throat and tried to give Felicity what he hoped was a stern look without laughing. “Now, honey, you know I save all my best moves just for you.”
The woman grabbed a paper bag from beneath the counter. She was breathing so hard that Jack first thought she was going to hyperventilate, but instead, she smoothed the bag out and handed him a black marker. “Oh, please. I’ll never forgive myself if I let you walk out the store without an autograph. Just this one time? Make it out to your best friend, Charity,” the woman urged, but it sounded more like an order than a request.
“I thought you said your sister’s name was Patience,” he said.
“I did? Oh, um, nope she’s Charity. I’m Patience.” She giggled like a sixteen-year-old girl. “See what you do to me, Mr. Bomer? I’m just so thrilled that you’ve come into my store!”
Felicity giggled right back. “Oh, sweetie-pie, I think you should give the woman your autograph. Think how nice she’s been to us and I’m sure her sister will appreciate it.” Then she went around the side of the counter, took something off the rack and laid it down. “We’ll take these, as well.”
“Oh!” Charity, or Patience, (or whatever her name was) glanced down at the item, then eyed him curiously. “I thought…that is…all the magazines say that you’re—”
“Oh, that’s just a cover to keep women from harassing him wherever he goes,” Felicity said. “On account of how hot my husband is.”
“Your husband?” Charity’s eyes looked like they were going to bug out even more than they already were.