Billionaire's Contract Engagement / Money Man's Fiancée Negotiation: Billionaire's Contract Engagement / Money Man's Fiancée Negotiation. Michelle Celmer
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He grunted. “Get me the damn account. That’s all the thanks I need.”
She stopped on her way out, put her hand on the door frame and looked back. “I’ll need someone to cover for me on Friday. I have two client appointments, one in the morning and one in the afternoon.”
“Jason will cover for you. You just worry about knocking Evan Reese’s socks off.”
“I will,” Celia murmured. “I will.”
On her way down the hall, her BlackBerry rang and she dug into the pocket of her briefcase for it. Seeing Noah’s number on the LCD, she mashed the answer button and stuck the phone to her ear as she walked into her office.
“I’m working on the maid service,” she said in lieu of hello.
Noah chuckled. “Great, I nearly killed myself getting out of bed this morning. You’d be amazed how dangerous a pair of dirty underwear can be.”
Her nose wrinkled in disgust. “Would you at least try not to send the maid screaming from your house on her first day? That’s just gross.”
He made a derisive sound. “So I read through the info you sent. I also had my agent do some checking. I might add that my agent is orgasmic that I’m considering this endorsement deal.”
“Tell him I expect a nice Christmas gift as thank you,” Celia said.
“Oh, please. He doesn’t even give his mother presents.”
Usually she wouldn’t mind chatting mindlessly with her siblings, but she had a hundred things to do before Thursday, including figure out how she was going to survive a weekend on an island with a man who made mincemeat of her willpower.
“So does this mean you’ll consider it?”
There was a pause, and she found herself holding her breath.
“Yeah. He checks out. He seems as solid as you said he was. I’ll talk to him if nothing else.”
She did a double-fist pump and dropped her bag on the floor by her desk.
“Have his people call my people,” Noah said airily.
Celia laughed. “I am his people. Or at least I will be.”
“Hey, you going to be at Dad’s this weekend?”
She winced when she remembered that she’d told their father she would indeed be there for Sunday dinner again.
“Afraid not. Something’s come up.”
Noah made a disapproving sound. “Don’t you ever take off? It’s Sunday, for Pete’s sake.”
“How do you know it’s work?” she defended. “Maybe I have a hot date.”
He snorted. “When was the last time you went on a hot date? It’s always work with you.”
Knowing they were about to get into lecture territory again, Celia cut him off before he got carried away.
“Hey, I have to run, Noah. Have a meeting in five minutes. I’ll call you later, okay?”
Before he could call her a liar, she hung up and plopped into her chair. She blew out a long sigh of relief and closed her eyes.
It was all coming together. Not without a few potholes, but it was within reach. All she had to do was hold it together and get through the weekend and the account would be hers.
“Knock, knock.”
Celia opened her eyes to see Jason Reagart standing in her doorway.
“Brock told me I needed to cover for you on Friday, so I stopped by so you could get me up to speed on what I need to know.”
“Yeah, have a seat. Give me a minute. Been running all morning. I’ll dig out my notes.”
Jason eased into a chair, his long legs eating up most of the space between it and her desk. Celia picked up her beleaguered briefcase and opened it on her desk.
“So how is Lauren?”
She hated idle conversation, but the silence was more awkward and she hadn’t planned on having to turn over the two meetings to anyone, so her notes were haphazard at best.
“Pregnant. Grumpy. You know, typical pregnant woman.”
Celia scowled at him over the top of her briefcase. “Like you wouldn’t be if you had to deal with water retention, hormones and arrogant men?”
Jason laughed. “Hey, I spoil her rotten.”
“As you should. Ah, here we go.”
She pulled out a folder and tossed it to Jason.
“Everything you need to know for the morning meeting is on pages one through three. This isn’t a big deal. They just need a little hand holding and a little ego stroking. Bowl them over with how Maddox is going to make them look good while increasing their exposure by three hundred percent and they’ll be fine.”
Jason flipped through the pages, his brow creased in concentration. She felt comfortable leaving her clients in his very capable hands. He took his job very seriously and moreover, he was damn good at what he did. Maddox had landed a huge account thanks to him, and if Celia had her way, she was going to top that by landing Evan Reese.
“And the afternoon meeting?” Jason asked.
“Hopefully you can read my notes. I have the PowerPoint presentation ready to go. They need to view it and sign off or suggest any changes so we can move it into the production stage. Impress upon them that this is their last chance to see it before it goes nationwide so make sure they’re happy with it.”
He nodded and straightened the papers before closing the folder. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of it. Brock said you were going to be out of town. Hope everything is all right.”
There was a subtle question there, and she knew he hoped she’d expound on her reasons for not being there on Friday. She was just grateful Brock hadn’t told him where she was going and why.
She smiled. “Everything’s fine, and thank you again for stepping in on such short notice. I owe you one. Send Lauren my love. I’ll have to remember to buy her a gift certificate from my favorite spa. I can’t think of a pregnant woman alive who wouldn’t appreciate a massage.”
Jason sent her a disgruntled look. “I don’t want some beefcake putting his hands on my wife.”
Celia rolled her eyes. “The poor woman can’t see her feet and is probably miserable, and you’re going to be picky about who gives her some relief?”
“Damn right I am!”
Celia made a shooing motion with her hands. “Out. I have work to do.”
And she made a mental note to call her salon and make an appointment for Lauren. She’d ask for the hunkiest massage therapist they had.
Five
The car that Evan had sent to collect Celia pulled up to the plane parked on the paved landing area that led to the single runway and stopped just a few feet from where the door to the jet lay open.
Celia looked out the window to see Evan standing a short distance away. He was waiting for her.
The driver opened her door, and she stepped into the afternoon sun. She blinked a few times then pulled her shades from her head over her eyes. Maybe then it wouldn’t be so obvious how she ate Evan up with her gaze.
He was dressed casually. Jeans, polo shirt and loafers. She’d only ever seen him in suits, and she hadn’t imagined he could look better. She was wrong. So, so wrong.
The jeans cupped him in all the right places. They clung to his thighs, rounded his butt and molded to his groin. They weren’t new, starchy-looking