“Also, I’m sure a corporate philosophy is as unoriginal as every other website you’ve got here, but I want to have a page stating ours.”
She turns her back to the window and crosses her arms as she faces me. “Did you have something specific in mind or do you want me to collect several and let you pick one that suits you.”
“You mean copy someone else’s mission statement?”
“We can tweak it to make it ours. They’re all basically the same touchy-feely crap.”
My jaw tightens, and I exhale a smile. She’s showing me her wall, and I can’t help feeling like this is progress. “I have something specific in mind.”
Her eyebrows rise and she looks around my office. “Let’s sound it out, then. Tell me what’s in your head.”
Leaning back in my chair, I watch as she strolls around my office, my home away from home. “Nothing excites me more than taking a case everyone says is a lost cause. I care about the little guy.”
Stopping in front of a bookcase, she looks back at me over her shoulder. “You can say that with a straight face, working in this ridiculous office?”
“Excuse me? My office is not ridiculous.”
“Oh!” She feigns surprise and turns back shaking her head. I watch her long blonde waves shimmy across her back. “Did you inherit it from the governor?”
“As a matter of fact, a few government officials did occupy these offices a while back.”
“So it makes you feel like a public servant?”
“It makes me feel like I’m home.”
“I’ve been to your condo. It’s nowhere near this... outlandish.” She’s standing across the desk from me now, and she lifts the bronze pointer dog off the corner. “You’re an avid duck hunter?”
“It was a gift.”
“So he helps you flush out flighty ideals like truth, justice, and the American way?”
“Maybe.” Her head cocks to the side, and I cross my arms. “Is nothing sacred to you, Miss Knight?”
Pressing her lips against a smile, she turns and continues her journey around my space. Stopping at the oversized leather recliner with ottoman, she looks up at me. “Please continue your mission statement, Mr. Merritt.”
“Have dinner with me tonight. We can sound it out over steaks and pinot noir.” I hadn’t planned to ask her out, but something about her taunting made it hard to think of anything past wanting her with me.
She doesn’t answer right away. “Business dinners are actually great for brainstorming. Gets you out of your routine, enhances creativity.” She walks back to my desk and picks up the legal pad and her small case. “I’ll meet with Mr. Donnelly and Mr. Hampton and get their profiles. What time?”
The entire time I’ve been lost in admiration. It’s not often I encounter a professional woman who’s both vulnerable and fierce. Most I encounter are trying too hard to be men. It’s like they’ve lost touch with their feminine side. Add to it I know Amy is sexy and smart, and I waver between wanting to keep her on my team and wanting to rip her clothes off and fuck her. It’s a dangerous combination.
“Seven work for you?”
“I’ll be ready.”
“I’ll pick you up.” She can’t run out on me if I drive.
“No.” She stops at my door. “I don’t want Sylvia to think... anything.”
Frustration tightens my jaw. “Fine. Be at my condo at seven.”
She pauses, searching for an argument. Finding none, she nods. “Have a nice afternoon.”
* * *
Amy
Marcus didn’t say where we were going for dinner, and I stare into my closet for several long moments trying to decide what outfit can go anywhere. Finally, I pull out a black Kate Spade dress with beige trim at the hem, shoulders, and neckline. It’s very feminine and flirty, and I can already tell he loves that.