The Fix Up (First Impressions #1) (8 page)

Chapter Eight

“B
en, my boy!”

He tried not to grit his teeth as his dad marched into his office without knocking, interrupting him for what had to be the hundredth time that day.

Ben pasted on his most cheerful grin, remembering Holly’s suggestion that he make eye contact and think about something that made him happy so his smile reached his eyes even when the rest of him felt like yawning or screaming in frustration.

His brain locked onto an image of Holly spread naked and warm on his living room floor, and he found himself smiling a lot wider than he wanted to. He forced himself to dial it back a notch, pretty sure that wasn’t the image he needed in his brain while he was dealing with his dad.

“What can I do for you, Dad?”

“Well, son, it looks like things are getting serious with the Kleinberger account.”

“Wow, that’s great.” Ben picked up a fountain pen from the corner of his desk, not sure if he intended to take notes or just needed something to do with his hands. “I thought Kleinberger wasn’t planning to make a decision until the end of the month.”

“That was the plan, but they’re speeding things along. Apparently, they got their budget pushed through a little earlier than they expected, so they want to get a jump on things. I told ’em you’d be happy to throw together a special presentation for them. You know, do a little razzle-dazzle for the execs who haven’t seen what we’re about yet.”

“Me?” Ben swallowed, hating the petulance in his voice almost as much as he hated the thought of taking on yet another schmoozy project when his desk was overflowing with spreadsheets and business plans. He cleared his throat and tried again. “Obviously, I planned to be involved with the presentation, but I wasn’t expecting to deliver it. Besides, I thought it wasn’t happening until the end of the month.”

Lyle frowned. “Well, things have changed, and you need a chance to demonstrate your oral presentation skills.”

“I’ve been working on my oral presentation skills,” he said, his mind straying to thoughts of burying his face between Holly’s thighs. “And honing my skills as a strategic-thinking, alpha male businessman.”

His dad looked at him like he’d just spoken Swahili, and Ben figured it was best if he refrained from admitting just how he’d been honing his skills.

“I know I usually take the lead on the sales side of things, but it’s time you start stepping up and getting your feet wet.” Lyle folded his arms over his chest. “You need to take on a more active role when it comes to the sales side of the job. You know, really get in there and make yourself familiar with the showmanship aspect of this company’s leadership.” Lyle frowned again. “Also, they might have asked for you.”

“What?”

Lyle’s scowl deepened. “Yes. Well, apparently the Kleinberger execs enjoyed talking with you the other night at the event. They thought your no-nonsense, numbers-driven approach was ‘refreshing,’ and they wanted you to do the presentation so you could answer some of their questions about all the numbers and science mumbo jumbo.”

Lyle had put “refreshing” in air quotes that made it clear exactly what he thought of the company’s choice to request Ben for the presentation. Still, it was a vote of confidence that felt pretty good. A sign that his plan to steer Langley into the next generation of business wasn’t so far off the mark.

“I’m flattered,” Ben said. “And honored.”

And terrified. And a little sick to my stomach.

“So can you pull this off?” his dad asked.

“How soon?”

“Friday afternoon. The agenda’s already been circulated. You just have to show up and give the spiel, then work your magic. You know, turn on the ol’ charm.”

“Charm,” Ben repeated, trying not to feel glum. “I’ll see what I can do.”

Lyle grinned and elbowed Ben in the ribs. “Too bad you can’t bring that new girlfriend of yours. She seems like she could charm the pants off just about anyone.”

“Holly?”

“Yeah, was that her name? Cute little gal. Not as busty as I like ’em, but great legs.”

Ben felt his blood pressure starting to rise, but he held his temper in check and picked up his letter opener. “She’s a very intelligent and accomplished woman,” Ben said.

“I’m sure she is.”

“I admire her intellect and business acumen.”

“Of course you do. Is that how you ended up with her lipstick all over your fly the other night?”

Ben gripped his pen a little tighter, trying to come up with a response that sounded more believable than a story of a broken zipper in the dressing room. He was still working on it when his dad laughed and elbowed him again.

“Be there on Friday. I’ll tell the boys at Kleinberger to expect you at eleven.”

With that, Lyle marched out of the room, leaving Ben with the sinking feeling that this was all happening much too fast.

The presentation, or your relationship with Holly?

He shook his head, reminding himself there was no relationship. It was purely professional.

What part of geeky movies, thumb wrestling, and oral sex did you find professional?

Okay, fine. He might have crossed the line with Holly the other night. A few lines, really. His brain flooded with the memory of her spread open on his living room floor, warm and willing and gasping with pleasure. Pleasure
he’d
been the one to deliver. The memory of it made him feel a lot more accomplished than any deal with Kleinberger could.

Focus
.

He reached for the phone and dialed Holly’s number. He knew from her bio that she had extensive experience in public speaking. She did media training for corporate executives, and even created podcasts on how to give effective public presentations. She was the right woman for the job, period.

Never mind that he couldn’t stop thinking about her, or that he desperately, urgently wanted to see her again and—

“Hello?”

“Hey, Holly, it’s Ben. Langley? Of Langley Ent—”

“Hi, Ben. Of course, it’s good to hear from you again.”

Christ, why were they talking to each other like strangers? He knew what kind of panties she wore and how she made this soft little mewling sound right before she came.

Don’t think about that, don’t think about that, don’t think about—

“Listen, Holly. You know that Kleinberger presentation I told you about?”

“Of course.”

“The timeline just changed, and so did my role in it.”

“How do you mean?”

“Instead of just preparing the presentation, I now have to give it. As in public speaking. Not my favorite thing.”

“Ah,” she said, her voice warm and soothing. “Did you know that for most people, a fear of public speaking ranks above fear of death, spiders, heights, and confined spaces?”

“So you’re saying most people would rather be trapped in a casket full of spiders and hoisted onto a rooftop than give this presentation I just got asked to deliver?”

Holly laughed, and Ben pictured the soft dimple in her right cheek, the one that only appeared when she smiled really wide. He loved that damn dimple.

“So tell me about this presentation,” she said, clearing her throat. “What’s the topic?”

“Razzle-dazzle, apparently. I’m not sure if I’m supposed to throw glitter or juggle sparklers.”

“Let’s save those for the end of the presentation. Is there a topic?”

“The main focus is on some new products we manufacture that would be perfect for this client.”

“You have data to back that up?”

“Of course. It’s not the material I’m hung up on. It’s the pizazz. The schmooze. The passionate delivery. None of that is my forte.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that. I think you’ve got passionate delivery nailed.”

Ben blinked, surprised by her boldness. Apparently, Holly was surprised, too, since the next words out of her mouth were a stammered jumble of syllables.

“I, uh—I didn’t—I mean, that came out wrong. I meant the other night.”

“Right,” Ben said as he felt a slow smile creep across his face.

“At the event,” she said, rushing her words together. “I heard you talking with the VP of human resources about your proposal to donate a portion of the company’s proceeds to the American Cancer Society, and you sounded very passionate about that. And about Langley’s bioengineering division. And about bad sci-fi movies. You were very passionate about all that.”

Ben pictured her sitting at her desk with her dark hair pinned on top of her head and her odd lavender-gray eyes darting around as she tried to regain her professional composure. He should probably throw her a rope, but listening to her fumble was almost as endearing as knowing damn well she’d been thinking about the other night as much as he had.

“I’m passionate about some things,” Ben said. “The things that matter. The things that give me a good reason to perfect my technique.”

“Right. Um, when did you want to meet? I have an opening next Monday around three.”

“Yeah, see, that’s the problem. They moved up the timeline.”

“How soon?”

“The presentation is Friday.”

“Wow. Okay—um, how much public speaking have you done?”

“Do you want to count the acceptance speech I gave when I won the national chess tournament at age eight?”

“Sure.”

“Then once.”

“Oh.” She was quiet a moment, and Ben wondered if she was consulting her schedule or pondering the magnitude of his geekery. Maybe both.

She cleared her throat. “Okay, if I reschedule my four o’clock and skip out on tonight’s team dinner—”

“I don’t want you to miss a team dinner on account of me.”

“No, it’s fine. Miriam—that’s my business partner—she and I take turns running them each month. This one is hers anyway.”

“Okay then. Do you want to come to my place?”

“No!” She couldn’t have sounded more alarmed if he’d asked her to go nude skydiving as an exercise in assertiveness. She must have recognized it, too, because she softened her voice. “I mean—I think it would be more professional if we meet at one of our offices.”

“You’ve seen mine. How about you show me yours?”

“Um—”

“Office, Holly. Show me your office.”

“Of course,” she said, sounding flustered. “I knew what you meant.”

Okay, so he was teasing her on purpose now. Dammit, it felt good. Testing the waters, owning the moment, being assertive—weren’t those all things a good CEO did naturally? It might not feel natural to him yet in the boardroom, but when it came to flirting with Holly, he was starting to get the hang of it.

He heard a tapping sound, and pictured her drumming a pen on her desk in a nervous rhythm. “Let’s do my place. The office will be deserted after four thirty, since we’re bussing the whole staff out to a big resort for the dinner. Might be the first time in history no one at First Impressions is working late.”

“Except for you.”

“Except for me.”

“Well, Holly, I’m glad to be your exception. See you this evening.”

Ben hung up, wishing like hell he could be her exception in every way possible.

H
olly spent the last two hours of her workday fluctuating between two extremes. On one hand, she felt panicky about nailing this job with Ben and paying off the bank. She was used to handling pressure in her career, but unaccustomed to having a ticking clock dangling over her head, a perpetual reminder of what she stood to lose if she didn’t succeed in her rebranding efforts with Ben.

On the other hand, she couldn’t stop thinking about Ben. Not just about what his business could mean for the financial future of her company, but about his hands and lips and a lot of other body parts she couldn’t stop picturing in her mind.

So when he walked through the door at four thirty-five wearing one of his new shirts and a well-cut pair of trousers, it was annoying to find herself staring slack-jawed at the man whose thumb prints were still on her thighs.

She closed her mouth and took a step forward, extending her hand. “Ben—so good to see you again. Welcome to First Impressions Public Relations and Branding.”

He gave her an odd look, but he took her hand anyway. He shook it a few times but didn’t let go as he surveyed the lobby and reception area. “Wow, this place is beautiful. Very hip. I love the galvanized steel wall.”

“Thank you.” Holly glanced down at their linked fingers and wondered if he realized he hadn’t broken the handshake yet. She sure as hell wasn’t going to be the one to tell him. “I chose all the slate myself, and the furniture is all mid-century modern stuff I found in flea markets and retro consignment shops.”

“I love those chairs.”

“Thanks. The couch is my favorite. It looks like something you’d see on
Mad Men
, doesn’t it?” She gestured toward the orange leather sofa with her free hand, part of her hoping Ben didn’t let go of her other one anytime soon. “There’s another one that’s similar in the conference room. Would you like a tour before we get started?”

“I’d love one. This is great getting to see where you work. How long have you been in PR?”

“Most of my career. I got my degree in marketing, but I was always drawn to the branding and public relations aspect of it.”

“How come?”

“There’s something inspiring about being a cheerleader for a product or service I really believe in. About making sure other people have the opportunity to see it the way I do, and recognize its true potential.”

He grinned. “I like the idea that I’m now one of your products or services.”

“It is a little weird for me,” she admitted, though the weird part wasn’t the job itself. It was the fact that being around Ben now made her feel like a middle school girl with her first crush.

God, this was inconvenient.

“Did you say you started the company?” he asked.

“Yes. With my friend, Miriam.”

“Did you have a lot of investors?”

“No.” Holly bit her lip, kicking herself for not having investors or for not figuring out a way to shoulder the business mortgage all by herself. Or maybe she could have just leased a piece of property—

“Miriam’s my business partner,” she said, forcing her mind back to the conversation at hand. “She’s also a brilliant branding specialist. She started out as a graphic designer and she’s got a great eye for color and design.”