Beautiful Bastard (Beautiful Bastard 1)

It was humiliating having him throw that back in my face, and I took a few steps closer. “Damn you, Bennett. I worked my ass off for you, and I worked my ass off for Julian. I will work my ass off wherever I go next—whether it’s selling pet food or brokering million-dollar campaigns—and I’ll be damned if you think you can come in here with this and tell me how to manage my career. You don’t control me.”

He walked closer. “I don’t want to control you.”

“Bullshit.”

“I want to help you.”

“I don’t need your help.”

“Yes, Chloe, you do. Take it. This is your work.” He was close enough to reach out and touch, and took one step closer. Close enough now for me to feel his body heat, smell the way his soap and skin combined into that familiar scent. “Please. You’ve earned this. It will impress the board more.”

A month ago, I’d wanted more than anything to present this account. It had been my life for months. It was mine. I could feel tears forming in my eyes and blinked them back.

“I don’t want to be beholden to you.”

“This isn’t a favor. It’s me paying you back. It’s me admitting I f**ked up. It’s me telling you that you’ve got one of the sharpest business minds I’ve ever known.” His eyes softened, his hand reaching out to push a strand of hair behind my shoulder. “You won’t be beholden to me. Unless you want to be . . . in a completely different way.”

“I don’t think I could work for you again,” I said, pushing the words past the wall of heartbreak in my throat. It was taking every ounce of strength I had to not reach out and touch him.

“That isn’t what I mean. I’m telling you that I messed up as a boss.” He swallowed nervously, taking a deep breath. “And I really messed up as a lover. I need you to take these slides,” he said, holding out the USB drive. “And I need you to take me back.”

I stared at him. “I need to get back to the boardroom.”

“No, you don’t. They’re delayed.” He glanced at his watch. “About a minute ago I had Henry call Cheng with some bullshit distraction so I could talk to you alone and tell you A, that you’re an idiot and B, that I want another chance with you.”

A grin wobbled at the edges of my mouth and I bit down on my lower lip to keep it in check. Bennett’s eyes flamed victorious.

“I appreciate what you’re doing here,” I said carefully. “I worked hard on that account, and I do feel ownership over it. If you don’t mind, I’d like the board to see the details on the Papadakis in the handouts you have. But I’m still going to present the Sanders pitch.”

He considered this, eyes moving over my face. A muscle in his jaw twitched, a telltale sign of his impatience. “Fine. Pitch it to me here. Convince me you’re not committing suicide in there.”

Straightening, I said, “The campaign is a play on Top Chef. But each episode, or ad, will feature a different ingredient in their food and will be a challenge to create something high-end gourmet for pets.”

Bennett’s eyes were veiled, but he smiled sincerely. “That’s clever, Chloe.”

I beamed at his honesty, savoring this moment. “Not really. That’s the joke. Sanders ingredients are basic: good meat. Simple grains. Dogs don’t care how fancy their food is. They want meat. On a bone. That tastes good. My dad gave his dogs gourmet chow every day, with brown rice and wheatgrass. I’m not kidding. And as a special gift on their birthday he’d give them a cheap, meaty bone. It’s the owner who cares about the greens and the brown rice and all that shit. Not the pets.”

His smile broadened.

“It’s a way to make fun of ourselves for pampering our pets and embracing that side of us that treats them like cherished family. Sanders’ is the meaty-bone chow that you can spoil them with every day. The animal ‘judges’ will always choose the Sanders recipe.”

“You did it.”

“A campaign? That’s the point.”

“Yes, but I knew you could do that. I meant the way you pitched it. You reeled me in, caught me.”

I laughed, knowing a Bennett compliment when I saw it. “Thank you.”

“Take me back, Chloe. Tell me right now that you will.”

A louder laugh burst out, and I rubbed my hands over my face. “Always such a bossy ass**le.”

“You’re going to pretend you don’t miss me? You look like hell too, you know. Julia called me last night as I was putting the slides together—”

I gaped at him. “Julia called you?”

“—and told me you were a mess and I had to get my shit together and find you. I told her it was already under way. I was going to do it anyway, but her call made it easier to come here ready to beg.”

“Do you even know how to beg?” I asked, grinning outright now.

Bennett licked his lips, dropping his eyes to my mouth. “Probably not. Want to show me?”

“Give it a try. Give me your best grovel.”

“With all due respect, I’m going to have to ask you to suck it, Miss Mills.”

“Only if you beg.”

His eyes widened, and before he could say anything else, I took the Papadakis folder from his hand and left.

I entered the boardroom with Bennett right on my heels. The murmuring voices stopped when we appeared.

I handed Director Cheng the folder, and he sifted through the handouts of the Papadakis slides. He smiled. “How on earth did you manage to finish two projects?”