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“I requested a sparkling water for Farrah. Apparently, one must go all the way to Queens to acquire the stuff.” His appearance and voice fit every stereotypical image ever imagined for both an artist and celebrity.
Samuel wore oversized glasses that made his blue eyes look even bigger than they were. The frames were bright teal to match the equally bright jacket he was wearing. His shoes were white and shiny. His slacks were skin-tight, super skinny and jet black. He wore his shirt collar open to expose a large amount of chest hair and a diamond the size of a June bug, which hung from a thick platinum chain. The bundle tucked under his arm wiggled and snarffed out a half-sneeze, half-bark. Becky glanced down at the little beast. Farrah was a pug, and today she was dressed in a little pink beret with a matching floral sweater. Becky was quite sure the diamonds on her white leather collar were real. This guy did hang out with Paris, after all. And what the hell was it with pugs, anyway? She’d met Samuel and Farrah before, but Becky hadn’t bothered to tell Liza about the dog. Better to save that little surprise. She wanted to see Liza’s expression.
“I’m sure that they—”
Samuel brushed by her in a streak of black-and-teal paisley, cutting off her sentence. His close-cropped hair and thick, pouty lips made him almost feminine. “Ah, thank you, my girl.” Becky counted four large silver rings on his right hand as he took one of the green bottles from the woman who entered the lobby with a tray of Perrier.
“Now.” He looked back to the receptionist. “You may escort the wild-haired Ms. Becky and myself to see Mr. Tenfold.”
And again, Samuel Saltz brushed past Becky in a huff of pug and bright teal fabric, leading the way for the receptionist and Becky to trot to catch up. Becky laughed to herself, glad she had Samuel to disguise her lateness and amuse her in the process. She couldn’t wait to see Liza’s face when the artist entered with the pug. Liza and her husband, Blake, had met over the planning of a large pug wedding. Liza now had to deal with a wealthy, eccentric mother-in-law who was obsessed with 34
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the pint-sized pooches. Liza would be just thrilled to have to do so here in New York. Becky was happy with the turn of events. She felt the vibe inside her as she walked and she was just as happy with the thought of meeting Craig between this meeting and the tour of the festival site.
The receptionist opened the door to a large conference room. Liza was already working with Mark, Mr. Tenfold’s project coordinator, getting set up for the presentation. The room smelled of wood polish and old leather. The lighting was subtle—no humming overhead florescent lights here. This was the executive area, and it showed—from the marble floors to the big, soft leather chairs surrounding the long, polished table. Becky inhaled the scent, savoring the victory of making it to this point. ArtMania was the next morning and today’s wrap-up meeting was the last of many phone conversations and several trips to New York. They were ready. The festival was going to be a big success and a big boost to her career. She’d come a long way from small-town west Texas to a big boardroom in New York City. Today, she and Liza would give the final details for the festivities, report on the progress of setting up the artwork and vendor booths, and discuss any final details or concerns. They would take a trip out to Central Park to see how the setup of the art and booths was progressing and assure Mr. Tenfold that his festival was a go. Mr. Tenfold entered right behind them. He’d put all the funds and manpower on the line to sponsor the festival. The money raised Saturday would put a new wing on the Children’s Hospital, dedicated to quality of life enhancement for terminally ill children. The new wing was going to be a wonderland for the kids, right there in the hospital. Mark had shown Becky the plans. Movies, arcade games and activities, all accessible to sick kids who couldn’t leave the hospital. Even the sickest kids could have some fun without the danger of leaving the medical resources they needed. Becky watched as Liza looked over her glasses at the pug draped over Samuel’s arm. Her eyes widened and she dropped her pen, shook her head and barked out her own little laugh. This was Liza’s first face-to-face meeting with Samuel. 35
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“Did I forget to tell you about Farrah?” Becky pushed past the artist, his stance not changing much to let her by. She pulled the briefcase over to the seat next to her partner.
Samuel stopped and placed his hand over the pug’s eyes to shield her from the offense. “Do you have an issue with Farrah attending this meeting, Miss Dean?” Samuel stood his ground next to the credenza holding water and a coffee urn, his shoulders squared, ready to battle Liza over the pug’s rightful place at the table.
“Samuel, I assure you Liza’s reaction was surprise. She’s actually related to a couple of pugs. Her husband’s mother has a pair of pugs that just had babies. That makes them her puggies-in-law, I believe. We even coordinated a posh wedding for the proud puggy parents.”
His eyes widened. “Ohh! How fabulous! I should have you do the same for Farrah.”
This time it was Becky who had to suppress her laughter. She wasn’t interested in another pug wedding. “Give her a chance, Samuel. She just needs more coffee.” He gave Liza an unsure glance as he situated Farrah on her own oversized leather chair before he nodded his approval.
“I need more coffee too,” he said to Liza, but it was loud and obviously directed at the receptionist who was busy getting mints and writing tablets out of the credenza.
“Do be a pookie and get us a round of decent bean juice, would you? This office swill won’t do at all.”
Becky doubted that the coffee in Mr. Tenfold’s conference room would be swill. Liza interrupted Becky’s banter with the artist by leaning in. “Beck, you do have the presentation in that little bag of yours along with all those jokes?”
“Har, har,” Becky said and turned to their client. “A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Tenfold. We’re very excited about tomorrow. Everything’s in place.” She reached out and shook his hand as she spoke.
“No doubt, Becky. No doubt.” His round, bearded face reminded Becky of her father. Tenfold was a rare combination of ruthless dealmaker and generous community 36
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leader. He’d put up more than half of the money for the hospital wing himself. “My attorney called. He’s running a few minutes late. We can start or wait. He just needs a couple of signatures from you and Samuel and we’re all set, legally.” He slid into the head chair and his receptionist placed a large mug in front of him.
“We can wait a few minutes so he’ll get the entire presentation. Tanisha isn’t here with breakfast either. Not much of a breakfast meeting without the breakfast,” Liza said.
Becky shook her head. “You sent Tanisha to get the food?” Oh, Lord help us. The projector was on and humming in front of her. All Becky needed to do was hook up her laptop and start talking. She pulled the computer out of her bag, dropping her pen in the process. She bent to get it as the door behind her opened.
“Mr. Hill,” Mark said as she fished under the table. Becky could see the project coordinator’s feet as he stood to greet the newcomer.
“Sorry I’m late.”
Becky saw her pen just out of reach and crawled under the table to retrieve it. Farrah jumped off her chair to investigate, probably thinking a snack had fallen to the floor. The dog drooled on her hand as she retrieved both the pen and the pug. Crawling backward, she bumped her head as she tried to resurface from under the table. The pug yelped when she squeezed her too hard, trying not to yelp herself.
“Farrah?” Samuel called, oblivious to Becky’s struggles under the wide conference table. “Where are you, baby?”
“Damn!” Becky bumped into someone with her butt and Farrah barked again.
“Damn, damn,” she muttered.
She turned to stand and saw what had to be two-hundred-dollar Italian leather dress shoes standing next to her. Shit. She assumed they belonged to Mr. Hill, the attorney. This was not how sh
e wanted to meet him or start the presentation for Mr. Tenfold—on her knees, pen in her mouth like a bone and holding a drooling pug. All 37
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she could do now was stand up and act like pulling a pug from under a conference table while cursing was a normal business activity. Doesn’t everybody do that?
She stood. Their eyes met.
Brilliant green looking into brilliant green.
“Craig?” Becky coughed, spitting out the pen as Samuel dashed around the table to extract the squirming pug from her hands. The receptionist exchanged it for an overfilled coffee mug.
Becky didn’t respond to either action. She had no words at the moment. How many people were there in New York City? How many men? Was this really possible? She flushed first with embarrassment—and then excitement.
“Well, Becky…” he stammered. His eyes darted around the room. Becky couldn’t believe her eyes or her ears. She’d been on this project for months, working with Mark. Mr. Hill—Mr. E.C. Hill—had been AWOL until today. He’d been in court during both meetings she’d flown in for last month. She had to think fast. She had to ignore the fact that she’d slept with him last night and the fact she was wearing the vibrator again this morning, for him, and move on. She dragged in a steadying breath in an attempt not to laugh at the situation. Craig looked in no mood to laugh. “Mr. Hill. I’m happy to see you.” There. That was polite and vague. He was wearing a very brown suit with an olive green tie. He didn’t seem the slightest bit fazed by the under-the-table activities, just the fact that she was there. He turned his attention to apologizing to Mr. Tenfold for his tardiness. As the two greeted each other, Becky took the opportunity to move toward her seat. Liza was looking down at Becky’s shaking hands. “Beck? Are you okay here?” She was a smart cookie and didn’t delve into the unfolding events, although Becky could see that she was dying to know what was going on. Liza had a headache the night before and hadn’t joined the girls at the bar. She was in the dark now, but her smiling eyes said she knew something was up and she wanted every detail as soon as possible. 38
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Mark handed Craig some paperwork and began introductions. “Craig, I’d like to you to meet the team responsible for putting together the festival.” He handed Liza and Becky a copy of the paperwork as well. “This is Liza Dean and Becky Cooper, of Main Events. I know you’ve seen many of their emails to me, but here they are in the flesh.”
Craig’s eyes danced with delight at Mark’s words.
The Craig Hill she’d spent the night with was nothing like the lawyer she’d imagined meeting this morning. Mark was a bit of a gossip, and on more than one phone conversation he’d told her tales of a divorced, bitter, workaholic lawyer who spent most of his spare time doing pro bono work. Becky’s contact with him had been a few very short, very direct emails. Even for an attorney, they were dry. From everything Mark had said, Becky had pictured a Scrooge of a man with beady eyes and a balding head. Not the super-sexy guy she’d spent several hours rolling around the bed with the night before.
Becky shivered, knowing she had the vibrator in place and he had the control. Maybe not. Maybe he’d left it in his office. This was turning out to be more fun than even she’d expected.
Craig nodded across the table to Liza. “Nice to meet you, Mrs. Dean. I’ve been incredibly impressed with your company’s work. I’ve told the hospital administrator to expect great things from this weekend.” He was doing a very good job of pulling off
“serious”. This man was not playful. This man wouldn’t have a who-can-get-naked-first showdown across a bed. This man was very much the attorney. Liza returned his compliment. “Call me Liza. I’ve heard good things about you as well.”
Craig turned to Becky. She felt her heart start to pound. What was he going to say?
“It was nice to have met you last night, Ms. Cooper. If I had known who you were, maybe we could have gone over some of these details then.” She blushed. “Or maybe not. We had other things to…” He hesitated. Becky almost saw the man from last night, but his face quickly lost its playful grin. “Um…discuss.”
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“Oh goodness, Mr. Hill.” Samuel preened at the attorney and his attention mercifully shifted to the flamboyant pugmeister. “Mr. Hill, I want to tell you that your work with that lawsuit for PETA was amazing. Anyone who spends that much effort on animal rights is a hero in my eyes.” Farrah barked to emphasize his enthusiasm. Becky dropped back into her seat, still trying to regain her senses. He was imposing and handsome in his suit and in his world. It seemed Mark was right. Craig was a powerful lawyer. He was a workaholic. But she’d seen a much more appealing side to him last night. Love Doctor to the rescue.
The images from her computer came up on the screen across the room and Becky started talking. She had a job to do as well, but she understood that life could be both work and fun. Maybe she could teach Mr. E.C. Hill.
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Chapter Four
Craig watched Becky’s mouth as she spoke. His luck was never this good, but here she was. He was delighted to see her but in his surprise he’d acted like a squirrel, frozen in the middle of the road, unsure where to turn. For a moment she had a look of excitement in her eyes, but it quickly faded to apprehension over his reaction. Fortunately, he was as intimate with the details of the event as he was the event planner, so he didn’t really need to pay much attention to the presentation. That had always been part of his success, hiring the right people for the right jobs and letting them do those jobs. Becky had this festival planned to the tiniest detail. Instead of worrying about the event, he could watch her body move and listen to the lilt in her voice as she spoke. It was a pleasant, earthy tone that spoke to him in a very deep and very sexual way.
He had the remote in his pocket. He wanted to push one of those buttons to find out if she had put it in or not. That temptation, her Southern accent and her ass in those black slacks were all about to drive him insane. But he needed to maintain his professionalism while Mr. Tenfold was around. She probably wouldn’t appreciate it if he turned it on while she was speaking in front of a group of peers. It had been a very long time since a woman had moved him like this. What was it about her? The divorce had left him in a nebulous haze of uninspired dating. Little had been bright or stimulating for the past three years except his job. He had his work, his friends and his hobbies, but no one made him want to do silly, romantic things. She had changed that for him in one exciting night.
Becky continued her presentation. All seemed to be in order and the event should be a great success. He hoped it would be a success for him as well. The Children’s Hospital would benefit greatly from the proceeds. He wanted to benefit greatly from 41
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Becky Cooper’s attention and affection. He just had to figure out how to get it. He ran his fingers over the lump in his pocket. He could feel the outline of the buttons. His fingers were itching to press one.
The side door to the meeting room opened and one of the other women he’d seen at the bar last night entered, carrying several bags with “2nd Ave. Deli” plastered on them. It was one of his favorite delis in the city.
Becky smiled when Tanisha glided into the room with the food. Now that the initial shock of Craig being the infamous E.C. Hill had worn off, she desperately wanted to play. It definitely wasn’t the best decision for her career. Mr. Tenfold probably wouldn’t like the idea of his event planner using his attorney as a sex toy in the middle of his meeting. Too bad. Damn sense of adventure. Her mother always warned her that it would get her into trouble one day, and today might be that day. Throughout the presentation, Craig had looked at her with a host of expressions ranging from dripping lust to concern. The game was getting her excited again. She wanted to make sure he was heading in that direction as well.
“You made it.” Mark needled Becky’s assistant as he rushed out of his chair to help Tan
isha with her mass of bags from 2nd Avenue. “I was beginning to wonder if we were going to have breakfast at this breakfast meeting.”
“I love 2nd Avenue, but it’s been awhile since I’ve been over there,” Craig said. Tanisha looked at Mark. “Me too. Years, actually, and it would have been nice if someone had told me they weren’t on 2nd Avenue anymore. I was standing there looking up at a broken video-store sign when some nice soul stopped. He must have seen the tormented look on my face, because he was kind enough to tell me they’d moved. I thought for sure I was going to have to do without a decent babka this trip.” She let Mark take two of the bags and placed the other two on the table herself. 42
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She looked across the table to Liza and Becky. “You two are lucky though. I found it and I got us some of the best traditional deli delights in New York City. Your tongue is in for a treat.”
“Great,” Becky said, a little worried over just what a black Jewish girl from Texas considered New York tradition. She knew Tanisha had spent many summers in New York with her white Jewish grandmother, but the smells from the bags were making even a hearty Texas girl like Becky a little nervous. She could tell by the way Liza was digging around in her briefcase that she was as unsure about Tanisha’s delicatessen treasures as Becky.
Tanisha gave an apologetic look to Liza. “Sorry it took so long. I’ll pass this out and we can eat while you two finish.” She then looked at Becky. “Not to worry. No tongue for you two.”