Mr. Mistake

“How can we ignore it?” Max drummed his fingers on the table. “Fuck strategy. Business is all about opportunity and Ms.—I’m sorry, I forgot your name.”

“Abby.” Mr. Hawthorne stepped forward with a smile that was glowing. “Abby Grant.”

“Ms. Grant has clearly picked up on something you haven’t been paying attention to. I think they just proved that they deserve our account, wouldn’t you agree?” He stared down the group from Energy Enhanced.

“Yes sir.” Their reply was almost in unison.

WHEN THE MEETING WAS over and people started to leave, I slipped out of the conference room and retreated to the break room. It was empty. Everyone that had time to take a break was on pins and needles as they waited to find out how many advertising dollars the account was going to be worth. I knew it would be a lot. I was more confused than ever about Max—Mr. Mistake. He had to remember me, even if he just seemed to feign indifference. I fixed a cup of coffee, stirring in cream and sugar. A few seconds later, I heard someone walking into the break room. I turned around to see Max. Even a few minutes without him directly in front of me had made me forget how attractive he was. He looked like he was sculpted from perfection, staring at me with those oh so mind boggling dark brown eyes.

“Hi, I’m Max—short for Maxwell, but please don’t call me that.” He extended his hand.

“Seriously?” I put down my coffee cup and folded my arms across my chest.

“Okay, fine.” He looked down at the floor. “Yeah, some people call me Mr. Mistake.”

“I don’t make mistakes.” I shook my head.

“Never?” He raised his head and smiled. “Not even one?”

“No.” I shook my head again. “Don’t feed me your crap. I don’t have the stomach for it. I’m not interested in being a one-night stand and I’m certainly not going to ever call you Mr. Mistake.”

“You’re very confident.” He grinned. “I didn’t expect that.”

“Don’t try to woo me. Don’t give me this sugary sweet nonsense. I already know it is nothing but a lie.” I stared at him.

“Fine.” He started walking towards me.

Holy shit.

I didn’t see that one coming. I thought I was telling him to hit the bricks, but he took it as an open invitation. When he got close me and I felt his buzz—that same radiating electricity I felt the night we met—I was practically sweating. I wasn’t the kind of woman to fall victim to charm like his, but he turned the charm off and went straight into attack mode. Before I realized what his next play was, there was an arm around my waist and he was pulling me close. His other hand grabbed me by the back of the neck and tilted my head. Everything in my conscious brain built on rationale thought was saying no, but my head was spinning with the intoxication of his touch.

No. Yes. No. No. Yes…

Nothing came out of my trembling lips as I fought a war inside my head. Before I could really think it through or argue with myself anymore, he pulled me so close I could feel the heat of his breath. That only lasted for a moment. He pressed his lips to mine and my entire body melted as his tongue ravaged my mouth. It was like being suspended in bliss with dynamite going off underneath my skirt. All I could do was open my willing mouth and welcome him as our tongues intertwined. He gave me a taste of his passion, a taste of what he had to offer me, and then he pulled away. When my thoughts returned, he was walking the other way.

“You’re leaving?” I felt my breath come out in a pant.

“You said you weren’t interested.” He waved over his shoulder at me and walked out the door.

Chapter 5: Max

Of course I knew Abby Grant worked for the marketing firm that was trying to get Energy Enhanced’s account. I knew everything about Abby Grant within an hour of her being stolen from me by the bitterness of Veronica’s jilted ego. I couldn’t even remember the last time I bothered to put in a personal appearance at a company we didn’t own outright. Energy Enhanced was just another startup that sounded like they were offering something different than the rest of the products on the market. Truthfully, once I found out she worked at a marketing firm, I knew there was a damn good chance her company would pitch something to one of mine eventually. Happenstance just delivered it to me earlier than I imagined. The fact she was in the room was just icing on the cake. I definitely didn’t expect her to have the only decent idea in the whole damn room.

That fucking kiss.

I’ve used a strong kiss to tame more than one woman trying to show disinterest. It wasn’t a new trick, but it was effective. I didn’t get a fair shot at her, so there was no reason to play fair after the fact. I wanted her. There was no way around that. Her kiss started with fear, hesitation, and then it was as passionate as my own. She might not want to make a mistake, but she was damn sure going to do it anyway. I might not have gotten her at the club, but with the door once again open, I was going to charge into it like the bull I was. I pulled my phone out of my pocket and dialed a familiar number. They answered quickly.

“Hello, this Max Martin. I’d like to arrange a flower delivery.” I waited for the young lady on the other end of the phone to pull up my account. “Yes, a dozen roses. I’d like to have them delivered to Abby Grant at West End Marketing. Make it happen today.”

I hung up the phone before I gave them a chance to confirm. I knew they would do what I said. My name had too much prestige for them not to bow down to it. A few hours later, I was sitting in my office, staring out at the city, when I got a text message confirming they were delivered.

I had a lot of work to do but it was getting late. I thought about picking up the phone and making arrangements so I could go out to another club, but I just didn’t have the energy. My laser focus had locked in on Abby Grant and until that itch was scratched, it was going to be hard to find satisfaction elsewhere. That was the problem with my ego—it had to be stroked once I got it worked up.

“DADDY!” I HEARD A voice cry out as I stepped into my house. Tiny feet ran down the hallway towards me.

“Hi, Benjamin!” I scooped up my five-year-old son as he lunged at me.