MissManaged

Chapter One

Charlotte

“Thank you for calling First Choice Marketing and Design, where we always want to be the first place you call. This is Charlotte speaking. How can I help you?”

I shoved the last bite of the leftover taco I had in my hand when I grabbed the phone into my mouth and chewed as fast as I could, hoping whoever was on the other end of the call would take a minute to respond. Last night was my bi-weekly book club meeting and we’d had a Mexican fiesta, complete with nachos, enchiladas, margaritas, and the aforementioned tacos. I’d indulged a bit more than usual and drank a few margaritas since I spent the night at my friend Mellie’s house, which was why I needed an afternoon leftover taco.

“Good afternoon, Charlotte. This is Tobin Daniels of Daniels’ Family Farm. I’m calling for our two o’clock meeting. How are you doing today?”

I glanced at the clock and choked. Both on the food stuck in my throat and on the words that refused to come out of my mouth.

That voice.

Smooth. Silky. Commanding.

The sound entered through my ear and promptly threw my body and mind into chaos, trying to create a mental image of the man attached to the voice while simultaneously attempting to come up with something intelligent to say.

Despite being the owner of my own company, even though I worked out of my apartment, and despite being a college-educated woman who’d been around men before, even having dated a few in the distant past, all I managed to do was swallow and begin coughing as I choked on a piece of lettuce that went down the wrong way.

I squeaked out a “hold on” in between coughs, tossed the phone aside, and dashed to the kitchen to grab a drink. After a few moments and an entire glass of water, I finally took a normal breath.

Proud of myself for not dying alone in my living room while eating an afternoon snack, I let out a sigh of relief that was unfortunately short-lived. I faintly heard my name coming from my couch.

“Oh, my goodness,” I cried, hurrying back to the phone and scooping it up. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Daniels.”

“Are you okay?” he demanded. “Should I call an ambulance?”

“No, no. That’s not necessary, Mr. Daniels. I’m fine. I just swallowed my drink the wrong way.”

I didn’t know why I lied, except that it would be embarrassing for him to know I answered the phone while eating, especially when the call had been scheduled, and he was right on time. The truth was that I’d completely lost track of time, an unfortunately common occurrence for me lately. Even though he couldn’t possibly know I’d fibbed, the silence from the other end of the call was overpowering. So much so that I almost confessed.

“All right, Charlotte,” he conceded, though he sounded suspicious. “Are you well enough to discuss business, or should I call back at another time?”

“I’m great, Mr. Daniels. Ready and willing to discuss anything you want.” That came out far breathier than I intended, but something about his tone, the way he strung syllables together to make a perfectly normal conversation sound like an invitation to his bed, had me all jumbled up inside.

Focus, Charlotte!

“Please call me Tobin, Charlotte.” He paused, waiting for me to respond.

“Okay, Tobin,” I breathed.

Jeez! What was wrong with me? I sounded like a porn star getting ready for the good stuff. This man was going to think I was a nut job.

“That’s better. I’m not a formal person, so no need for you to be, either.”

“That sounds good, Mr… I mean, Tobin. Now, how can I help you?”

“I’m not sure if you're familiar with my family, but we’ve farmed our land for four generations and have always been a commercial dairy farm. Over the last few years, since I took over from my father, we’ve branched out into organics. Our milk and cheeses have done well locally, but I’d like to expand further and possibly sell them wholesale. However, I can’t do that with a website from twenty years ago and no social media presence. That’s where you come in.”

“I think I’ve seen your table at the farmer’s market, but I’ve never bought anything,” I replied while I did a quick search to locate the farm’s website, something I’d planned to do before the call but there was that whole losing track of time thing. “Ohhh, you aren’t kidding about the website.”

He chuckled at my disapproval. “Yes, well, I think my father did that himself and then never updated it once he set it up.”

“At least you have your own domain name. That’s a start.” I tried to sound positive, but the more I clicked, the worse it got. No link to contact them. No history of the farm. Just a few pictures of cows and dirt and an address.

“I can tell you’re trying to be nice, but there’s no reason. I know it’s awful.”

“Well, let’s not dwell in the past,” I said, making him laugh again. A deep rolling sound that had me clenching my thighs together.

Enough! This is a client, Charlotte. Get it together.

I opened a blank client intake form and got ready to get down to business.

“I just have a few questions for you, Tobin, and then we can figure out a plan to bring your farm into this decade.” I pushed all naughty thoughts of my new client aside and focused on the job at hand. But then I almost lost it again when he replied, his voice husky and even deeper than before.

“That sounds good, Charlotte. That sounds real good.”