“Carrera GT,” I remarked, looking the car up and down. “Great car.”
“I do like it, yeah. That's a decent Beemer you're driving there, too.”
“It's been good to me. German engineering, you know.”
He revved his Porsche and smiled.
“Oh, I know, believe me.”
He killed the engine and got out as I closed the hood of my BMW and locked the car up.
“I'm surprised you're at work so early,” I said. “When did you get back from Paris?”
“Oh, my private jet touched down at 2:00.”
“This morning?”
“Yeah. I tried to sleep some on the plane, but the time change is killer. So, I'm running on about three hours of sleep right now.”
“Shouldn't you get some rest? I mean, I know how committed you are to work—as I am—but if you're sleep deprived, you're not going to get too much done.”
“I know, I know. But there are things that really have to be taken care of this morning. I'm planning to take the afternoon off to get some rest, then come back in the evening to get everything else done.”
Our eyes met, and I couldn't stop my gaze from lingering for a bit longer than it should have. However, he hadn’t looked away. What was happening? I broke the gaze first. It wasn't the time or place for moments. I needed to keep my distance until I could figure things out a bit better in my head.
“We'd better head upstairs,” I said hurriedly. “There's a lot to get done this morning, like you said.”
“Yeah,” he said slowly. “Upstairs. After you.”
We walked over to the elevator and rode up together in silence. As soon as the doors opened, I made a beeline for my office, mumbling a quick “See you later” as I left him behind.
I was losing my focus, losing my edge. Every time I closed my eyes, all I could see was that handsome, rugged face staring back at me with an air of deep affection trumped only by desire. One thing I was certain of, it was going to be another long week of avoiding that handsome face.
***
Friday afternoon didn't seem to be the best time for a meeting, but as the most junior member of the team, I wasn’t exactly in a position to complain. Instead, I went into the boardroom, took what had become my usual seat, and waited in silence for everyone else to file in. I'd made a few friends in the office, but I wasn't in a particularly chatty mood. It had been quite a tough, trying week with a heavy workload, and mentally I was all but spent.
After everyone had come in and taken their places, Asher walked in with a broad smile on his face. Following him were a couple of waiters carrying boxes of lavishly iced donuts.
“Take a donut or two, or three if you're not too worried about your waistline,” he joked. “Because this isn’t so much a meeting as it is a celebration.”
When the box was presented to me by one of the waiters, I took a delicious-looking chocolate one with macadamia nut sprinkles and looked around the table, trying to gauge people's reactions to Asher’s announcement. Personally, it had altered my mood a bit. Where before I had been a little on the drab end of the spectrum, I was suddenly perked up and excited to hear what the celebration was all about.
Asher shot me an intense glance, and then he dimmed the lights and turned on the projector screen.
“All right, ladies and gents,” he announced. “Pay close attention to the screen. You will have seen these charts before, but I just want you to look at them again so that the images are cemented into your mind.”
He brought up the sales charts for the Harry Winston athletic watches and gave us a few moments to peruse the less than stellar figures.
“Now,” he continued, “if you all remember, a new member of our team, Ms. Lilah
Maxwell, came up with a brand new strategy for marketing these watches a few weeks ago.”
Murmurs of agreement flitted around the room.
“I've been keeping a tight lid on developments, but over the past week, the executives at Harry Winston and I have been closely monitoring sales of these watches. Now, remember, this is just one week after implementing the new campaign. Are you all ready?”
My heart was hammering in my chest. I wasn’t 100 percent sure it wasn’t about to jump into my throat and right out of my mouth. I hadn't been expecting this. I was utterly unprepared for the topic of this meeting or—as Asher had put it—celebration. Granted, the word celebration itself suggested success, but what if my ideas had bombed? I would look a failure, and a fool, in front of everyone on the team!