Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 91665 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 367(@250wpm)___ 306(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91665 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 367(@250wpm)___ 306(@300wpm)
Chase caught the look on my face and chuckled. “There’re towels in my private bathroom.” His eyes dropped to my chest, where my nipples stood up proudly through my soaked shirt, and grumbled, “Get out of that wet shirt, before I help you out of it right in the middle of my office with the blinds open.”
I didn’t doubt he would do it for a minute, so I quickly trudged to the bathroom, hoping I’d also find my wit there, along with a clean shirt.
A minute later, I looked in the mirror, happy with my reflection. I must say, I totally rocked a man’s shirt. Even though it was ten sizes too big, with a few buttons left open at the top and a knot at the waist, Chase’s dress shirt actually looked kind of cute with my black pencil skirt. I was rolling up the sleeves when there was a light knock at the door.
“You decent?”
Except for my thoughts about you. “Yes.”
When Chase opened the door, he had a folded T-shirt in his hand and was looking down at it. “I have this old Brown T-shirt that was stuffed in my gym bag if you want to try—” He paused, stopping in his tracks as he looked up at me. “Wow. Looks better on you.”
Earlier in the day, the man had told me he was going to make me beg, and that hadn’t made me blush. Yet something as simple as looks better on you had my cheeks heating. It wasn’t so much the words as the intimacy with which he said them.
He stepped into the bathroom and took over the rolling of the sleeves. “Let me.”
We exchanged a few silent smiles as he worked on the shirt.
“How are you feeling today?” he asked.
“Better.”
“Glad to hear it. We’re sharing a meal tomorrow tonight.”
“Are you telling me or asking me?”
He finished rolling and waited until I looked up. “Telling. You owe me, considering what a gentleman I was the other night.”
He had been gallant. “Thank you for that, by the way. You were very respectful, and I didn’t make it easy for you.”
“No. You definitely made it hard.”
I shoved his shoulder playfully. “Come on, Bossman. We’re already late to the meeting.”
Elaine Dennis, the VP of Advance Focus Market Research, had just started her presentation when we walked into the conference room a few minutes late. Her pitch detailed her company’s experience moderating focus groups in the women’s industry, and she spoke a lot about the importance of running groups in different geographic areas.
“The women’s products industry is very different in New York and the Midwest. Most women want the same things—smooth skin, to feel beautiful and pampered, to look attractive to the opposite sex—but what works for selling beauty can be quite disparate in various geographic areas.”
Getting comfortable in my seat, I attempted to put the last fifteen minutes behind me and took notes as she worked through her presentation. I’d done plenty of marketing focus groups during my years with Fresh Look, but there was always something new to learn. The ad world changed by the minute, and advertising to women was even more of a challenge. Let’s face it, we women wear our right to change our minds like a badge of honor—what we want today could be passé by tomorrow.
I was sitting two seats away from the presenter on the right side of the long conference table. Chase sat a half dozen chairs away from her on the far end of the opposite side of the table. It wasn’t the first time I’d noticed he didn’t sit at the open head of the table during marketing meetings. He was the kind of boss who had his eye on everything, and participated, but didn’t feel the need to constantly remind people he was in charge. Holding my pen to my lips, I wondered if he did it on purpose.
When my eyes flicked back to him, he was watching me intently. I looked away, but two seconds later, I glanced back again. He looked around the room to see if anyone was paying attention to him. Of course everyone else was watching the presentation, as we both should have been.
Then he mouthed to me, I really love that you read lips.
I smiled coyly and scanned the room before looking back.
It felt like we were in middle school, trying not to be caught passing notes. His gaze was glued to my lips as his mouth formed soundless words. I also really love your lips.
Flustered, I shifted in my chair to face the woman giving the presentation. I managed to hold out for less than five minutes before my eyes wandered back. This time, Chase didn’t even bother to see whether anyone was watching. He mouthed, I really like my shirt on you.