Living the Charade(21)

'Maverick. You're up early.'

Valentino's gaze turned from Miller to TJ. He hated the familiarity  with which TJ addressed him but it was one of those things that came  with success. Men always thought he was their best friend and women  always wanted to nail him. Well, except Miller, who might prefer to put  an axe through his head after last night. He poured muesli from the  selection of breakfast cereal arranged on the sideboard into a bowl and  pulled out the dining chair beside the woman he was supposed to act as  if he was in love with. He'd been chivalrous last night-truly,  unselfishly chivalrous for the first time in his life-and he had no  doubt she'd thank him for it later. Hopefully more than he was thanking  himself right now.

'As are you.' He glanced at Miller and her grip tightened around the shiny fork she was using as a weapon against a grapefruit.

'Habit,' TJ said. 'No sleeping in when you're raised on a cattle station. So, are you up for a game of tennis later today?'

'Thank you.' Valentino accepted hot coffee from the maid who had just materialised at his side.

'As I explained before you insisted I have breakfast, TJ,' Miller interjected, 'I have to get back to the city by lunchtime.'

'What could be so important you have to rush back on a glorious day like today?'

Covering for her slight hesitation, Tino jumped in. 'Unfortunately I have to go over a new engine with my engineers today.'

Miller glanced up at him through the screen of her sooty lashes and he  was disconcerted to find that he couldn't read her expression.

'And have you given any more thought to my proposal, Mav? To represent  Real Sport?' TJ asked, confidence dripping from every word.

Not expecting such a direct question, Tino hesitated. He would have  liked to tell TJ what he thought of his business tactics, but Miller  stayed him with her hand on his.

'I've advised Valentino to set aside any final decisions about working  on your campaign until after our business is concluded. I wouldn't want  to muddy the waters by mixing the two-as I'm sure you can appreciate.'

The skin around TJ's eyes tightened briefly before the man recovered  himself. He clearly hadn't been expecting Miller to turn the tables on  him so neatly. And neither had Dexter, who started choking on his eggs.

Tino had actually been considering telling his publicist to accept the  Real Sport deal in a bid to help Miller win the account, but perhaps he  didn't need to. It really wouldn't affect him all that much, so long as  TJ's company fitted the strict criteria he insisted on and was willing  to pay one of his pet charity organisations an exorbitant sum of money  for the privilege.                       
       
           



       

TJ scratched his ear in a dead giveaway of his mounting tension. 'Interesting decision. Not one I would have made.'

'Nevertheless, it's one I've made.'

Miller had her bushfire extinguishing voice in place and Tino felt his  fists clench when he caught Dexter's murderous expression.

Easing his bulk back in his chair, his face flushed, TJ fixed narrowed  eyes on Miller's boss. 'I thought you were supposed to be the senior  consultant on this account, Caruthers?'

He didn't need to say anything else to indicate how he felt, and everyone in the room held their collective breaths.

A muscle in Dexter's jaw twitched, but Tino cut off any response he  might have made with a single look. 'Miller's principles are admirable,'  he said. He reached for an apple from the middle of the table.  'Qualities I would expect any company I endorse to emulate.'

For a moment no one seemed to know what to say.

'Then get that final proposal to me quick-smart, young lady,' TJ  snapped. 'I want everything wrapped by race day.' He stared at Tino.  'Maybe we can even announce our collaboration at your mother's bash next  Saturday night.'

Damn. If Lyons was going to his mother's party, he would expect to see Miller there.

Tino shook his head. 'I play a low-key role at that event. It's my mother's show.'

Miller stopped torturing her breakfast. 'I'll make sure I have the  proposal to you in time for an early decision, TJ.' She dabbed at her  lips with her napkin and stood up. 'Thank you for your hospitality and,  again, happy birthday.' Then, acknowledging the other occupants in the  room, she walked out like a queen.

* * *

Miller sat beside Valentino in the car as they headed back to Sydney,  nursing a headache to end all others and a stomach that felt as if it  was twisted up with her intestines.

She'd hardly slept the night before, completely mortified that  Valentino had not only read how much she had wanted him on the dance  floor, but that he had not wanted her in return. Her embarrassment from  the whole trying day had been absolute.

It was a cliché that pride went before a fall, but right now Miller was  grateful for the extra cushioning. In fact, she felt so terrible she  almost felt sorry for the way Dexter must have felt when she had  rejected him. One-way chemistry was not a pleasant thing to come  face-to-face with for anyone.

'Are you okay?'

Valentino's quiet concern in the stuffy little car was the last thing  she needed. 'No, not really.' She was too tired to pretend any more.  'Dexter is probably going to put me on performance management for  overstepping hierarchical boundaries, TJ is livid, my promotion is most  likely dead in the water, and I have the mother of all headaches.'

'If it's any consolation I thought you were magnificent this morning.'

This morning-but not last night... 'I was stupid.' This morning and last night.

'You'll win TJ's business and save the day. You'll be a hero.'

'Thanks for the pep talk.' She rubbed her forehead and grimaced as she  thought of pulling her computer out of its bag. Still, it had to be  done. She had 'squeezed the fear' and stood up to TJ this morning-which  she didn't regret-but she didn't want to lose her job over it, and she  knew she had major sucking up to do if she wanted to get her goals back  on track.

'TJ and Dexter will expect to see you at my mother's charity event next weekend.'

Miller had heard of the Melbourne gala charity night, of course, but  she'd had no idea it was Valentino's mother's event. 'I don't care.'

'If you need to attend I can arrange it.'

Miller glanced at him and winced as the sun reflected off the circular  speakers on the dashboard. Was he kidding? She couldn't wait for this  weekend to be over. The thought of seeing him again was  just...horrifying. 'It'll be fine.'

He sped up and passed two cars at once. Miller tensed.

'Surely you're not still nervous about my driving?'

'This isn't a racetrack. It's a national highway.'

'With lots of room to pass. How are you going to explain your absence next weekend?'

'I'll have a headache.' Something she could easily envisage right now.  Then she realised why she hadn't connected the event with him. 'Why does  your mother have a different surname from yours?'

'She remarried.'

His response to the personal question was typically abrupt, and it  stupidly hurt. Her brain slow to accept that her feelings were as  one-sided as Dexter's.                       
       
           



       

Reaching down, she unzipped her computer satchel and opened her laptop. Squeeze the fear? What had she been thinking?

* * *

Tino knew the conversation was at an end the minute Miller pulled her  computer out and, really, short of hurling the thing out of the window,  there was nothing he could do about it. Certainly she wouldn't be  pleased if he told her she looked as pale as a snowflake and should just  close her eyes and rest.

And what did he care? He was a man who had never found it necessary to  encourage female conversation, and right now, with the sound of four  hundred and forty-three pound-feet of torque eating up the heated tar of  the Pacific Highway he was in his element. If she wanted to work her  life away that was her choice.

A little voice in his head piped up, asking if that wasn't also his  choice, but he sent it packing. The difference between him and Miller  was that he loved his work. He didn't want to do anything else. Whereas,  while she was clearly good at her job, it wasn't her first love.

And what did love have to do with anything?

Shaking his head, he shifted his thoughts into neutral and the car into  top gear and just enjoyed the peace of the open highway and Miller  tapping on her keyboard.

More than once he found himself distracted by those killer legs encased  in black cotton leggings when she shifted in her seat, but as soon as  that happened he forced his eyes to the road and his mind to think about  the important round of meetings he had lined up for tomorrow.

Thankfully she fell asleep soon after that and he reclined her seat and  tried to ignore the way her soft scent filled the car. The way her hair  glinted golden-brown in the sun. The way her deep, even breaths pulled  her shirt tight across her breasts. He merged onto the Harbour Bridge  and pulled into the left lane, jerking the steering wheel sharply right  when a car he nearly cut off blared behind him.