Then, his assistant gave her two-week notice. It always sucked to lose critical staff, but she ran his life. He would have doubled her salary if it would have made a difference, but she was marrying her fiancé and moving to Germany.
The meeting with Marketing was nothing short of grueling, but three hours of brainstorming later, the team had an actionable plan. Meredith’s idea had put smiles on the faces of his executive staff for the first time today and the press release was nothing short of brilliant.
It was chock-full of shiny highlights about Lyn’s progressive fashion lines, one of which was favored by a couple of hot young actresses. Sadly—the release went on to point out—this success sharply contrasted with Hurst’s lone lowlight of an evening-wear line that had failed to garner much interest outside of prom shoppers. All of which was true, but the release intentionally left out that the average price tag of a prom dress was fifteen hundred dollars, which contributed greatly to Hurst’s bottom line.
A few more carefully selected Lyn Couture hits rounded out the piece, commenting carefully about how the two companies had fared since the split, and the last line contained a pointed message about Lyn’s commitment to its workers, particularly those in the Manhattan factory.
Meredith had hit this one out of the park.
By five o’clock, Jason had been at work for over ten hours and fog took over his brain. It was the only reason he couldn’t seem to focus on anything except how good Meredith’s hands had felt on his tense shoulders last night. Or at least fatigue was his excuse and he was sticking to it.
It had been a nice evening. Casual and expectation free, as it should be. They were basically just friends who’d had a brief affair in the past.
He could get some takeout and drop by her hotel. She’d mentioned as much, so he had the perfect excuse. They could discuss the press release and eat. He didn’t have to admit he’d thought about her all day. Or that in unguarded moments, the vivid memories of her body and the way she responded to his touch sneaked into his mind, lacing it with sensual images better suited for a triple-X flick than a boardroom.
Definitely not the thoughts of a friend.
By six, he figured it was late enough that it wouldn’t seem as if he was so eager to see her, he’d left work early. He wasn’t getting any work done anyway. Traffic wasn’t too bad and he arrived at Meredith’s hotel quickly.
Meredith swung open the door wearing a button-down oxford with a feminine cut and a pencil skirt. It should have made her look like a schoolteacher but she’d unbuttoned the shirt to the middle of her breasts, allowing the rounded globes to peek out, and the skirt’s front-and-center split rose all the way to the juncture of her thighs. One wrong move and she’d show her secrets to the world.
He swallowed as the hard-on he’d been fighting all day raged to life again. The outfit hadn’t looked like that on the runway model who’d last worn it at Fashion Week.
Finally his gaze wandered up to Meredith’s face, but it was far too late to pretend he hadn’t been checking her out. He couldn’t have hidden the tenting going on down south, either.
She arched a brow. “You seem to be missing a couple of take-out boxes.”
He cursed and fisted his empty hands. “I, uh...forgot.”
Her wicked smile punched him in the groin. “Got something else on your mind, then?”
“What makes you say that?” His palms started to sweat. Could she read his thoughts now?
“Oh, I don’t know. Because you’re here. At my hotel. With no dinner. Kind of made me think you had an interest in an altogether different activity than eating.”
Groaning, he scrambled for a response that did not include dipping his tongue into the crevice of her breasts, sliding a hand up the creamy thigh visible beyond the slit of her skirt or silencing her smart mouth with a thorough kiss, which would leave her too breathless to bait him.
He should have left the office at five. At least then he might’ve still had enough brain cells to remember a simple thing like bringing dinner.
“We should go out.” Improvisation at its finest. “That’s what I had in mind.”
Her laugh tore through the rest of his defenses, weakening his knees.
“Nice recovery,” she allowed with a nod. “You and I both know that’s not what you were thinking about, but I’ll let it slide for now.”
Of course she’d realized he was making this up as he went along. How could he have forgotten how easily she read him? “You’re too kind.”
Airily, she waved it away. “The sweatshop nastiness was the major topic of conversation at Hurst from morning coffee until quitting time. I’m sure you’re exhausted.”