She sighed, and some of the humor went out of her eyes. Crystal Spas would have been perfect.
He reached for her hand. I know.
The jet jerked to rolling, and he experienced a strong sense of déjà vu. It took him a second to realize it was Kristy, Kristy and Jack on this same airplane. During their emergency landing in Vegas, Jack had held Kristys hand to comfort her.
Right now, Sinclairs hand felt small in Hunters, soft and smooth. The kind of hand a man wanted all over his body.
You want to go see your sister? he asked.
Sinclair looked startled. What?
Shes in Manchester. Its on the way.
Wed be too late.
She had a point.
Maybe not, he argued. A visit with Kristy might cheer Sinclair up.
Thanks for the thought.
Hunter wished he had more to offer than just a thought. But then she smiled her gratitude. Hunter realized that was what mattered.
Business deals would come and go. Hed simply find another way to make Sinclair happy. Even as the thought formed in his mind, he realized it was dangerous. But he ignored the warning flash.
You dont need to worry about me, she told him. Im a big girl. And I still have the ball to plan.
The balls going to be fantastic, he enthused. Itll be the best Valentines ball anybody ever put on anywhere.
I hate it when people humor me.
Then why are you still smiling?
Because sometimes you can be very sweet.
Hold that thought, he teased, and he brought her hand to his lips.
Im not going to sleep with you. She retrieved her hand, but the smile grew wider. But, maybe, if youre very, very good, I might dance with you at the Valentines ball.
And maybe if youre very, very good, I might bring you flowers and candy.
Something to look forward to.
Isnt it?
They both stopped talking, and a soft silence settled around the hum of the engines as they taxied toward the runway.
Its just that weve worked day and night on this product launch, she said, half to herself.
I can imagine, he responded with a nod.
All of us, she added. The Luscious Lavender products are strong. The sales force is ready. And marketing showed me a fantastic television commercial last week. I really want to make sure I do my part.
You are doing your part. He had no doubt of that. Theres still the ball.
She gave a shrug and tucked her hair behind her ears. The balls pretty much ready to go. I know itll be fine. But I wanted that something extra, that something special from the PR department. Then she sighed. Maybe its just ego.
Contributing to the team is not ego. Taking all the glory is ego.
Wanting recognition is a form of ego, she countered.
Wanting recognition for a job well done is human.
Her voice went soft. Then I guess I dont want to be human.
He watched her for a silent minute, trying to gauge how deep that admission went. For all her bravado, he sensed an underlying insecurity. What Sinclair presented and who she really was were two different things. She was far more sensitive than she showed.
In the privacy and intimacy of the plane, he voiced a question that had been nagging at him for a while. Why did you sleep with me?
She startled and retrieved her hand. Then her shell went back into place. Why did you sleep with me?
Because you were funny and smart and beautiful, he said. Then he waited.
And, because I said yes? she asked.
He didnt respond to her irreverence. And because when I held you in my arms, it was where you belonged.
She stayed silent, and he could almost see the war going on inside her head.
You going to tell me? he asked.
It was Christmas, she finally began. And you were fun, and sexy. And Kristy had just married Jack. And life at your amazing mansion is really very surreal.
Shed buried the truth. He was sure of it.
Kristy had married Jack, and for that brief moment in time, Sinclair had felt abandoned. And there had been Hunter. And shed clung to him. And thats what it was. He was glad he knew.
Even though he shouldnt, he switched seats so he was beside her. He wanted to be the one she clung to.
She stiffened, watching him warily.
The stewards only a few feet away, he assured her. Nothing can happen.
His reassurance seemed to work.
She relaxed, and he took her hand once again.
The cabin lights dimmed, the engines wound out, and the plane accelerated along the runway, pushing them back against their seats. Hunter turned his head to watch her profile, rubbed his thumb against her soft palm and inhaled her perfume, as he captured and held a moment in time.
The cabin lights dimmed, the engines wound out, and the plane accelerated along the runway, pushing them back against their seats. Hunter turned his head to watch her profile, rubbed his thumb against her soft palm and inhaled her perfume, as he captured and held a moment in time.
The next morning, for the first time in her life, Sinclair came late to the office.
Amber jumped up from her desk, looking worried. What happened?
I got home really late, she said as she passed by.
Roger was down here. He wanted your files on the Valentines ball.
Sinclair crossed the threshold to her office, dropping her briefcase and purse on her credenza, and picked up a stack of mail on the way to her desk. Why?
So Chantal could review them.
What? She stared at Amber. Why would she do that?
Because shes queen of the freakin universe? Is there something I should know, Sinclair? Something pertaining to PR?
No. Sinclair set down the mail. Theres nothing for you to worry about. She moved to the door. Wait here.
Im not going anywhere.
I assume you gave him the files? Sinclair called over her shoulder.
I didnt have a choice.
No. She didnt.
When the president asked for the files, you gave up the files. But there was nothing saying you didnt go get them back again. Rogers micromanaging was getting out of hand. So was Chantals apparent carte blanche in the PR department. Sinclair took a tight breath, pressed the button, and waited as the elevator ascended.
This inserting of Chantal into Sinclairs projects had to stop. You didnt add a new voice ten days before the ball. And you sure didnt empower a neophyte like Chantal on a project of this size and importance.
What was the matter with Roger? Was he trying to sabotage Sinclairs efforts?
Maybe it was due to her frustration over the failure of the spa plan, but Sinclair was feeling exceedingly protective of the ball. It was her one chance for the PR department to shine, and she was determined to do it or die trying.
The doors slid open on twenty, revealing burgundy carpet, soft lighting and cherrywood paneling. Myra, Rogers secretary, looked surprised to see her.
Did you have an appointment?
I need two minutes with Roger.
Myra glanced at Rogers door. Im afraid hes-
The office door opened.
Chantal Charbonnet stepped out, a stack of files tucked under her arm. She was wearing a leather skirt today, with a glittering gold blouse. Her heels were high, her neckline low. She gave Sinclair a disdainful look and passed by with a sniff of her narrow pert nose
Looks like hes free, said Sinclair.
Myra picked up the phone. Let me just-
Ill only take a second. Sinclair didnt give the woman a chance to stop her.
Before Rogers door could swing shut, she blocked it. Excuse me, Roger?
He glanced up, lips compressing, and a furrow forming in the middle of his brow.
I dont recall a meeting, he said.
I believe you have my files?
Chantals taking a look at them.
Sinclair struggled hard to keep her voice even. May I ask why?
Ive asked her to provide her opinion.
On?
On the Valentines ball preparation. Shes taking a bigger role in the new product launch. I think we all recognize Chantals talents.
Well, Sinclair sure didnt recognize Chantals talents. And the ball preparations were all but done. She just needed to babysit it for the next week and a half. She sure didnt need somebody messing with the plans at this late date.
Roger took in her expression, and his tone suddenly turned syrupy. I appreciate how hard youve been working, Sinclair. And I know youre busy. This will take some of the burden off your shoulders.
Theres no-
Youll get your files back in a couple of days. Thanks for stopping by.
Thanks for stopping by?
Hed pulled the most interesting and important project of her career out from under her, and thats all she got?
Short of a raid on Chantals office, Sinclair didnt know what to do. If the woman started messing with things, the ball could be completely destroyed. What if she called Claude at the Roosevelt? The head chef was temperamental at the best of times, and Chantal might push him right over the edge.
The conductor also needed hand-holding. The music was cued to coincide with speeches and product giveaways. Entrances and exits of VIPs were specifically timed, and the media appointments had to come off like clockwork.
But Sinclair couldnt outright defy Roger.
She headed for the elevator, desperately cataloguing potential problems and possible solutions. By the time she punched the button, she realized there were too many variables. With a rising sense of panic, she knew she couldnt possibly save the ball from Chantal. That left her with Roger. How could she possibly make Roger understand the danger of Chantal?
She entered the elevator, then froze with her finger on the button.
Wait a minute. She had this all wrong. She shouldnt be fighting them. What better way to demonstrate the error in their thinking than to go along with it? Ms. Chantal wanted to take over the ball? She could bloody well take over the ball. It would take less than twenty-four hours for her to get into a mess. Sinclair wouldnt argue with the president. Shed graciously step aside. Shed take the day off and leave Chantal with just enough rope to hang herself.
When Sinclair came back tomorrow, hopefully theyd be ready to listen to reason. As the elevator dropped, Sinclair drew a deep, bracing breath.
It was all but suicidal. But it would be worth it.
Ha!
Roger wanted to give Chantal a chance to shine? Sinclair would graciously step aside. When she came back tomorrow, hopefully theyd be ready to listen to reason.
As the elevator dropped, Sinclair warmed to the idea. When she got back to her office, she informed Amber theyd have the files back in a couple of days, and that she was going home to paint.