All his best business relationships were based on mutual respect. Sure, maybe he didnt want to sleep with his other business associates. But the principle was the same.
Sinclair hit the buzzer, letting Hunter into the building.
She didnt know whether shed been brilliant or stupid to take him up on his offer to paint, but there was no turning back now.
Shed dressed in a pair of old torn blue jeans and a grainy gray T-shirt with Stolen From the New York City Police Department emblazoned across the front. Her hair was braided tight against her head, and shed popped a white painters cap on her head. She had no worries that the tone of the evening would be sexy in any way.
The bell rang, echoing through the high-ceilinged, empty room. Her living room furniture was in storage for another week. But shed already finished the small bedroom, so it was back together.
She opened the front door and the hinges groaned loudly in the cavernous space as Hunter walked in.
Nice, he said, looking around at the tarp-draped counters and breakfast bar, the plastic on the floors, and the dangling pieces of masking tape around the bay window.
It has a lot of potential, she told him, closing and locking the oak door. There was no doubt it was smaller than hed be used to, but she was excited about living here.
I wasnt being sarcastic, honest. He held up a bottle of wine. Housewarming.
That might be a bit premature. She still had a lot of work to get done.
He glanced around the room for somewhere to set the bottle down. In a cupboard? he asked, heading for the alcove kitchen.
Beside the fridge, she called.
He got rid of the wine and shrugged out of his windbreaker. Then he returned to the main room in a pair of khakis and a white T-shirt that were obviously brand-new.
She tried not to smile at the outfit.
It really was nice of him to come and help. Still, she wasnt about to pass up an opportunity to tease him.
You dont do home maintenance often, do you?
He glanced around the tarp-draped room. Ive seen it done on TV.
Its not as easy as it looks, she warned.
He shot her an expression of mock disbelief. I have an MBA from Harvard.
And they covered house painting in graduate school?
They covered macroeconomics and global capitalism.
She fought a grin. Oh sure, go ahead and get snooty on me.
Dip the brush and stroke it on the wall. Am I close?
I guess you might as well give it a try.
Give it a try?
Her grin broadened at his insulted tone.
He bent over and pried open a paint can. You might want to shift your attitude. Im free labor, baby.
Am I getting what I paid for?
Sassy, he said, and her heart tripped a beat.
You need to shake it, she told him, battling the sensual memory. Hed called her sassy in Manchester. In a way that said he wanted her bad.
Shake it? he interrupted her thoughts.
She swallowed. You need to shake the paint before you open the can.
He raised his brow as he crouched to tap the lid back down. Youre enjoying this, arent you?
You bet. Nothing like keeping the billionaire humble.
Dont stereotype. Im always humble.
Yeah. I noticed that right off, Mr. Macroeconomics and Global Capitalism.
Well, what did you take in college?
She hesitated for a second then admitted it. MBA. Yale.
So, you took macroeconomics and global capitalism?
Magna cum laude, she said with a hoity toss of her head.
Yet you can still paint. Imagine that.
She glanced at him for a moment, trying to figure out why he hadnt escalated the joke by teasing her about the designation. Then it hit her. You got summa, at least, didnt you?
He didnt answer.
Geek, she said.
He grinned as he shook the paint. Then he poured it into the tray.
She broke out the brushes, and he quickly caught on to using the long-handled roller. Sinclair cut in the corners, and together they worked their way down the longest wall.
What do you think of the Crystal Spa chain? he asked as his roller swished up and down in long strokes.
Ive never been there, said Sinclair from the top of the step ladder. This close to the ceiling lights, she was starting to sweat. She finally gave in and peeled off her cap.
Wisps of strands had come loose from her braid. Probably shed end up with cream-colored specks in her hair. Whatever. They were painting her walls, not dancing in a ballroom.
You want to try it?
She paused at the end of her stroke, glancing down at him. Was he talking about the Crystal Spa? Try what?
I was thinking, we shouldnt let the Millenniums refusal stop us. We should consider other spas.
Was he serious? More importantly, why hadnt she thought of that?
She felt a shimmer of excitement. Maybe her spa idea wasnt dead, after all. And the New York-based Crystal Spa chain would be an even better choice than the Millennium.
Shed learned from the Millennium experience. Shed make sure she was even better prepared for a pitch to the Crystal.
Can I try out the Crystal on my expense account? she asked with a teasing lilt.
Of course.
Scoffing her dismissal, she went back to painting. Like Roger would ever go for that.
Besides, she didnt have to test out the Crystal Spa to know it was fantastic. Everyone always raved.
Forget Roger, will you? urged Hunter. Here.
She glanced back down.
With the roller hooked under one arm, he pulled out his wallet. Then he tossed a credit card onto her tarp-covered breakfast bar. Consider this your expense account.
She nearly fell off the ladder. You cant-
I just did.
But-
Shut up. He went back to the paint tray. I know the spa ideas great. You know the spa ideas great. Lets streamline the research and make it happen.
You cant pay for my spa treatments.
Osland International can pay for them. Its my corporate card, and I consider it a perfectly legitimate R & D expense.
Sinclair didnt know what to say to that. Trying out the spa would be great research, but still
He rolled the next section. Its not like I can go in there and check out the wax room myself.
She cringed, involuntarily flinching. Wax room?
He chuckled at her expression. Buck up, Sinclair. Take one for the team.
You take one for the team.
Ive done my part. Its my credit card.
Theyre my legs.
Who said anything about legs?
She stared at him. He didnt. He wouldnt.
We were this close! She made a tiny space with her thumb and index finger. This close to having a totally professional conversation.
Im weak, he admitted.
Youre hopeless.
Yeah. Well. Irrespective of what you get waxed, and whether or not you show me, its still a good idea.
It was a good idea. And her gaze strayed to his platinum card sitting on the canvas tarp. Even if he couldnt keep his mind on business, this was not an opportunity she was about to give up. Im thinking a facial.
Whatever you want. I need to know if they can deliver the kind of opportunity were looking for.
What if theyre locked into a supplier contract like the Millennium?
Hunter shrugged. Every business is different. Well deal with that when and if it happens. Tomorrow good for you?
She nodded.
With only twelve days until Valentines Day. There was no time to lose.
Three
The next day, lying on her back in uptown Manhattans Crystal Spa, a loose silky robe covering her naked body, Sinclair was feeling very relaxed after her facial massage. A smooth, cool mask was drying on her face. Damp pads protected her eyes, and she found herself nearly falling asleep.
Sinclair?
She was dreaming of Hunters voice. That was fine.
Dreaming never hurt anybody.
Sinclair? the voice came again.
No.
No way.
Hunter was not in this room.
Warm hands closed up the wide V of her robe. No sense playing with fire, he said.
What are you doing here?
I need permission to cancel your appointments for this afternoon.
She tried to form words, but they jumbled in her brain and turned into incomprehensive sputters.
She tried to form words, but they jumbled in her brain and turned into incomprehensive sputters.
We need to fly to L.A., Hunter told her matter-of-factly.
This is a dream, right? Youre not really here.
Oh, Im really here. But, hold on, are you saying you dream about me?
Nightmares. Trust me.
He chuckled. The only appointment I could get with the president of Crystal Spas was in their head office in L.A. at three today. We have to get going.
She blinked. Why did they need to talk to the president?
I want to pitch the idea of debuting the whole chain.
Sinclair gave her head a little shake. Seriously?
Yes, seriously.
They were going to debut Luscious Lavender in the entire Crystal chain? That would be a phenomenal feat.
I could kiss you, she breathed.
Bad idea. For the obvious reasons. Then he looked her up and down. Plus, youre kind ofgoopy.
She just grinned.
Its not a done deal yet, he warned.
But we are going to try.
We are going to try. Can I cancel your appointments?
You got a cell phone?
He pulled it out of his suit pocket.
She dialed Ambers number.
The whole chain. She could barely believe it. The whole damn chain.
Hunter was sorry now that hed even told Sinclair about Crystal Spas. The meeting hadnt gone well, and she was clearly disappointed as she climbed into the jet for the return trip to New York.
We knew it was a long shot, she said bravely, buckling up across from him.
Im sorry.
Its not your fault. Some people cant make quick decisions.
The whole thing had frustrated the hell out of Hunter.
At his level, the man had better learn to make quick decisions. He had a chance to get in on the ground floor in this.
His loss, said Sinclair with conviction.
Theyre superior products, replied Hunter.
Of course theyre superior products, she agreed.
Hunter did up his own seat belt. We say emphatically as two people whove never tried them.
She smiled at his joke.
We should try them, he said.
Im not trying the wax.
He chuckled. Ill try the wax.
Yeah, right.
Right here. He pointed to his chest. Ill be a man about it. You can rip my hair out by the roots if I can massage your neck with the lavender oil.
She stared into his eyes as the jet engines whined to life. You dont think wed end up naked within five minutes?
I dont think your ripping the hair from my chest would make me want to get naked.
She obviously fought a grin. Waxing your chest is probably the worst idea Ive ever heard.
But it cheered you up.