Chapter Twenty-Two

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

MONDAY MORNING CAME around, after what had been the longest weekend Reagan could remember. Even though Crystal had forced her out of the apartment for what she called “shopping therapy,” all she could think about was what awaited her when she went back to work. Between that, and checking her phone every five minutes for a missed call or message, she’d practically driven her best friend crazy.

As she stepped into the elevator at the building that housed Kelman Corporations, the uneasy flutters in her stomach warred with the small flicker of hope in her chest. Evan would be there today. Would he talk to her? Look at her? Give her death glares and tell her what an awful human being she was? Or would he act like nothing happened at all?

Jesus, pull it together, Reagan. Stop overthinking.

Stepping onto the twelfth floor, she was greeted by a smiling face.

“Good morning, Ms. Spencer. Still loving the hair,” Amy said as she handed her a stack of messages. “Mr. Kelman asked to see you when you arrived.”

“Thanks, Amy.” Reagan flipped through the messages as she walked to Bill’s office.

She hadn’t spoken to him since he’d found her in a crumpled heap in her office days ago. Nothing needed to be said as she’d gathered her things, and he’d told her to take the rest of the week off.

She stopped outside of his office, and hesitated for just a moment. Brushing her left palm down the side of her skirt, she straightened her back, mentally preparing herself to walk into his office with her head held high. No way was he going to see the disaster he’d sent home last week. She’d done everything she could to get rid of her and bring back the strong, professional woman he’d hired all those years ago.

She knocked on the door and waited for him to respond. He called for her to come in, and she took a deep breath before turning the handle and stepping inside.

“Reagan. You’re looking lovely this morning. Come in, come in. Sit down,” Bill said from where he was seated behind his desk.

“How was your weekend?” he asked when she took the chair opposite him, and the hesitant look on his face made her smile.

“It was fine, Bill,” she said, and then leaned forward to whisper, “I’m fine too.”

He rocked back in his chair and interlaced his fingers. Twiddling his thumbs, he ran his eyes over her as if trying to decide if she were telling the truth or not. Having come to some inner conclusion, he nodded at her. “Good, good. So the little impromptu visitor…helped,would you say?”

Reagan sat back and crossed one leg over the other. “I’m not sure a visit from Troy does anything other than raise my blood pressure, but in this case…” She paused and thought back to the way they’d ended their call the other night. “In this case I think he might’ve actually helped. So thank you for calling him.”

“Right, right. As long as everything is better, and we can all get back to work.”

The mention of we made her heart start to thump. She knew exactly whom he meant by we, and wondered if Evan had arrived already. Best to just ask and get it out of the way.

“Is he already here?”

Bill didn’t have to ask whom, and just gave another quick nod. “We have a prospective client coming in at ten this morning, and I’d like for the two of you to sit down with them. If you’re up for it, that is.”

“Always. I’m assuming Evan has the file?”

“He does.”

She forced a smile as she stood and smoothed her skirt. “Well, I guess I should go track him down so we can set up the pitch.”

Bill rocked back in his chair. “You should.”

Though his expression was impassive, she knew him well enough to know there was something he wasn’t saying. What is he up to… “Is there anything else?”

When he shook his head, Reagan scooped up her briefcase and said her goodbyes before shutting the door behind her. She stopped at her office to drop off her belongings, and then pulled a compact out of her purse to make sure her hair and makeup were in place. Then she tucked her shirt tighter into her skirt, rearranged her pearl necklace, and forced a few deep breaths to calm her jackrabbiting heart. Stop stalling…

A quick look at the clock had her legs moving. They only had a couple of hours before the prospective clients came in, so it was already crunch time to get familiar with their company.

Evan’s office door was open, and she hesitated just outside it before heading inside. He was seated in one of the guest chairs in front of his desk, which he’d turned to face the other, and his head was down over the notepad he was scribbling on.

A long lock of dark hair fell over his forehead, and had Reagan been any closer, she would’ve pushed it back off his face. He had on her favorite navy suit today, not that he would’ve known. It was the one tailored to his body so perfectly, and with the matching vest and the crimson tie, it made him look like a million dollars.

No. Think professional. He doesn’t look attractive at all in that ugly-ass suit. Really.

Rapping her knuckles on his door, she lingered on the edge of his office until he looked her way. When she entered, he stood up and motioned to the chair in front of him.

* * *

EVAN WATCHED WITH wary eyes as Reagan made her way into his office. He’d gotten there early, wanting to prepare himself for when she arrived. He needed time to get himself in the right headspace. Time to deal with the reality of coming face to face with the woman he now knew to be the young girl from his past.

It wasn’t the easiest adjustment to make, thinking of the sexy-as-fuck woman who’d straddled his lap and taken Polaroid shots of their night in her bed as the same girl who used to chase him around her backyard.

He knew if he’d run into her right off the elevator, he would’ve been tripping all the fuck over himself to keep things polite, and that wasn’t what he wanted coming back to work today. He needed things to get back on track. This was his shot at reinventing his career, of actually creating something good in his life. Plus, he thought, as she made it to the chair and took a seat, I’m a professional, damn it.

“Good morning,” she said, and looked up at him expectantly.

Sit down, you fucking moron. She’s waiting for you to sit down.

Evan took a seat and made sure to keep his eyes on her face as she crossed her shapely legs, one over the other. The same legs that had wrapped around his hips when he’d been fucking her hard into her mattress.

Now speak.

“Good morning,” he said.

He didn’t want to be the first to break eye contact, so he was happy as hell when she lowered her eyes to the notebook she had in her hand. She fiddled with her pen for a moment, tapping it against the paper, and it gave him a feeling of satisfaction to know that she was obviously feeling just as uncomfortable as he was. Not that she’d ever admit it. Nor would he.

“Bill said you’d already stopped by and picked up the file for this morning’s meeting.”

Evan kept his eyes on her, letting them fall to the elegant string of pearls draped around her neck, and when he realized they were the exact same ones that’d been in the photo of her that he’d once used as…inspiration, his leg started a nervous bounce.

Yeah, that’s just what you need, dickwad. To remind yourself of a frustrating night with your mattress and a Ziploc bag.

He put his fist on top of his thigh, as if he could hold it the fuck still, and then held out the manila folder in her direction.

“Yes. I’ve just been running over it. Taking down some notes on what they may want to do to maximize their profits.”

Reagan reached for the folder, and when he didn’t immediately let it go, she glanced at him and raised a brow. “Do you want to, I don’t know, let it go, maybe?”

Her choice of words seemed to hold a double meaning, and he couldn’t help the curl of his lip when he replied, “I don’t know. Do you?”

Her brown eyes narrowed on his, and he could’ve sworn a flame flashed through them as she said, “I’m not the one holding on to things,” and yanked her hand back, taking the file with her.

Evan sat back, slightly more comfortable now that she was on edge, and gave her a minute to flick through the file.

It was obvious from her words just now that she was not over the events of last week, and this polite attempt to walk into his office like nothing happened was total bullshit. Thank God for that, though, because his act was just as fucking pathetic.

Who did he think he was fooling trying to act like an hour of preparation time before seeing her would make a damn bit of difference? He’d thought about nothing else but her since the moment he’d walked out of the office last week, and there was no way this was going to stay polite or professional—even if it was done in a passive-aggressive, fuck-you kind of manner.

He crossed his leg over his knee and clasped his hands together, and when she kept her eyes glued to the papers in front of her, he said, “No. Your specialty is jumping to the wrong conclusions, so I think you should definitely study up there and make sure you know all the facts before you make an assessment of the situation.”

Reagan’s head snapped up, and it seemed as if she was about to comment and then thought better of it. Shutting her mouth, she looked back at the file in her hands.

“I think a higher price point would be best, making them more exclusive—”

As Evan shook his head, her eyes flicked up to his.

“What?”

“I think that’s the wrong direction,” he said.

“You want to go lower?”

Don’t answer that.

He cleared his throat and tried to think of something non-sexual to say, but when nothing sprang to mind, he went with one word. “Yes.”

“Hmm.” She flipped through the notes, and said, “Well, we’ve got some time to hash it out, so tell me what you’re thinking.”

There’s not enough time to hash out what I’m really thinking,he thought as he took advantage of her focus being elsewhere and let his eyes roam over the swell of her breasts underneath her white blouse. It was tucked into a tight pencil skirt that showcased the flare of her hips, and he had to dig his nails into his palm to snap his mind out of mentally undressing her.

“All right,” he said, keeping his eyes on his notepad. “Let’s do it.”

* * *

TWO HOURS LATER, they’d come to an agreement on the pitch. When the knock on his door alerted them that the CEO from Allendale had arrived, Reagan stood and readjusted her pearls. Evan followed her to the boardroom, and as they walked in, they greeted the gentlemen before them.

“Mr. Blake, so nice to meet you,” she said, shaking the hand of the CEO.

“We’ve heard you two are among the best in your field, so thank you for meeting with us.” The man smiled, his grin crinkling the deep lines around his eyes. “And this is Charles Brigham, my VP.”

“Thanks, gentlemen,” Evan said after greeting the men. “If you’ll have a seat, we’ll show you how we’re going to turn your business around.”

Mr. Blake’s brow shot up, and he nodded in approval. “I like that mindset. I assume you’ll be running lead for us?”

Reagan looked at Evan, expecting to hear him explain they would both be running the numbers, when lo and behold, the man had the audacity to pat Mr. Blake on the back and say, “Of course. I have some ideas I think you’re really going to like.”

Oh, is that right, Mr. James? You have some ideas? You’re going to run the numbers…we’ll see about that.

“Excuse me, Evan?” Reagan asked, her voice saccharine sweet as she grabbed his arm.

“Yes, Reagan?”

“You don’t mind if I start us off, do you?” she asked as she released him and took a seat, making sure to flash the long line of her legs in his direction.

A shadow of lust crossed Evan’s face. “Ladies first.”

Typical man, letting his “head” think for him. I’ll take advantage of that.

“Thank you,” Reagan said before turning to the men in front of them. “So, gentlemen. We understand you’re looking to revamp your Aqua Cool bottled water line and are looking for the best way to get more bang for your buck, if I may. Mr. James and I both agree that the best way to do that would be to raise the price by seventy-five cents, making it competitive with the other premier brands.”

She could feel Evan gaping at her out of the corner of her eye, but she continued. “To do that, you’ll want to rebrand, work with your advertising agency, possibly get a celebrity endorsement. In the long run, establishing yourself as one of the elite water companies in the world will get you a higher price point and more money in your pocket.”

Beside her, Evan coughed.

“Did you have something to add?” Reagan asked.

“I…uh. Well, that’s one way we could go,” Evan said slowly, as if carefully choosing his words. “Or, to give you another option, you could lower the price by twenty percent and make it competitive against the mass-market brands. You’re a brand people already know and love. If someone were to stop by a gas station and grab a water, they’re gonna go for a brand they know at a price they can afford. High volume times increased sales equals a huge profit.”

The two men across from them looked between Reagan and Evan with quizzical expressions.

“I see your point, Evan,” Reagan said, keeping her face impassive. “Some people are happier with a low-end product. But that’s the struggle; is it a low-end product with low-end quality? People know that a higher-priced brand will give them superior taste and satisfaction.”

“Water is water—” he began.

“No. It’s more than water.” She could feel the line crossing from professional into personal, but God, she couldn’t stop herself. Evan James was making her fucking crazy. After spending the past two hours in close quarters with him and keeping things strictly work-related, the feelings simmering beneath the surface were now a low boil on the fast track to spilling over.

“Reagan—”

“Yes, Evan?”

His eyes narrowed on her, and she could tell he was trying to work out what the fuck was the matter with her. Honestly, for one split second she wished the other men in the conference room weren’t there so she could really let him have it. Instead, ever the cool professional, she took a calming breath and plastered a cordial smile on her face.

Over the next twenty minutes, she and Evan volleyed their points like two tennis pros at Wimbledon, each vying to score the most points with their client and come out on top. Facts and figures were laid out, and though Evan gave her a good run for her money, she had no doubt that hers was the better proposal.

“Gentlemen.” She looked across the table at the CEO and VP. “It seems we’ve given you two great options this morning. Perhaps it would be best if you talk it over with your advertising department and company accountants and work out which strategy is in your best interest.”

Evan shot to his feet as if she’d lit a fire under his ass, and then leaned in so close to her that the sleeve of his suit jacket brushed against her bare arm. He turned his head, and as his breath ghosted over her ear, she couldn’t help the shiver that raced down her spine.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he whispered, low enough that only she could make out his words.

Determined not to be intimidated by him, she pivoted, causing him to back up or have their lips brush one another. “I’m giving them what they came for. A choice, so they can make an informed decision.”

“Okay, Ms. Spencer,” the CEO said. “Charles and I agree you’ve given us two solid ideas here. We’ll take this back and work the numbers and projections and give you a call within the week so we can move forward with whichever route we choose to take.”

Reagan noticed Evan’s jaw tick as he clenched it shut, and she could tell it was killing him to bite his tongue. No doubt he was beyond pissed that she hadn’t followed through on the original plan, and instead, the meeting had turned into some kind of fucked-up contest she was dead set on winning.

“That sounds fantastic, Mr. Blake,” she said.

“I have to say, the two of you seem very passionate about your jobs.”

Finally, Evan spoke up as he shook their hands. “You’re spot-on about that. Let’s do what Reagan here suggested, and take a few days. We’ll get our detailed analyses over to you by the end of the day, each backing up our proposals, and from there you can make a more informed decision.”

Reagan had to stop herself from kicking him in the shins. Do what I suggested? How fucking kind of him.

She gathered up her paperwork as Evan did the same, and then they both silently made their way around the conference table to show Mr. Blake and Mr. Brigham out. As they vacated the room, she stood there beside Evan and counted back from thirty, wondering if he planned to say anything about what had just happened. When it appeared he seemed indifferent, she reached for the door handle.

She got it open a few inches when he moved behind her and slapped his palm on the back of it, shoving the door shut with enough force that the sound would’ve echoed up the hall. She whirled around ready to ask him what the hell he thought he was doing, but she miscalculated how close he was standing, because when he took a step forward, her ass and back were flat against the door before she knew what was going on.

His eyes were wild as he lowered his arm and leaned forward. Then she heard the loud metallic click of the lock as it was engaged.