Watching the smile playing on his lips, Kelsey repressed the shiver than ran up her spine. In her line of work, she dealt with powerful men and women frequently, people who made decisions and determined policy that affected thousands. It occurred to her as she watched the interplay between her boss, Doug and Jared, however, that she’d rarely seen anyone quite so comfortable with playing the game as Jared.
“They’ll have to bump someone else’s ad to accommodate us,” Kelsey said, the words out of her mouth before she knew it.
“Yes,” Jared said, a smile curving the corners of his lips.
“At the very least, they’ll have to rearrange an entire issue of copy,” she continued, her pencil making random doodles on the pad in front of her.
“Yes?” he said again, one brow arched in question as if he couldn’t see her point.
“If we don’t have to launch early,” she pushed on, not even sure why it mattered to her, “if it doesn’t cost us anything to wait….”
“Ah,” Jared said, “but it gains us something potentially if we move the launch up.”
“Potentially,” she murmured.
“Yes.” The word was soft, coming through lips now in a crooked, charming smile.
“I understand.” She did, too. Jared Barrett for all his smooth and enticing appeal really liked to win.
***
“Ms. Layton,” Jared said, standing next to her chair as the others filed out of the meeting room. “Now that you’ve once entrusted yourself to my care and come to no harm, perhaps you’ll be willing to help me with another business-related situation.”
Kelsey looked up at him, unable to keep herself from wondering if he was calling in an IOU from her, this time. He had helped her out with the banquet thing. Still, if the man had a business-related concern, why wouldn’t she help him out?
“Of course,” she responded, coming to her feet. The room had emptied out and they stood alone.
“Never agree to anything till you know the cost,” Jared chided, his hand at her elbow to guide her around the table. “That’s a good general rule of life.”
“The cost?” She lifted an eyebrow in question. Sure the guy had gone with her to an event at the last minute, but that didn’t exactly entitle him to anything.
“Yes,” he confirmed, “the outing I have in mind involves us having lunch together at The Meriton’s Classico Restaurant. I’d like your opinion of both the chef and the décor.”
She allowed a glimmer of a smile to coast over her face as they stood out in the hall. “Restaurants aren’t exactly my line of work.”
Jared leaned closer, lowering his voice. “I have it on good authority that Art Directors are creative people. Certainly creative enough to give feedback on whether or not the designer who handled the Classico has adequately done her job.”
“And the chef?” Kelsey questioned. “What makes me an expert in that area?”
They walked toward the elevator.
“Well, you are a very attractive woman in the midst of a city crowded with men,” he pointed out. “I’m sure you’ve been invited to dine at any number of restaurants.”
“I have,” she confirmed, reflecting that he’d made it difficult to refuse his craftily-worded invitation. What was the man up to?
“Good. Then perhaps you’ll spare the time today to give me your opinion?”
“I’d be pleased,” she agreed, mentally shrugging. Lunch didn’t really mean anything. Maybe he had no particular covert agenda. She’d had business lunches with him frequently, although usually they had been accompanied by Doug.
Jared drove them to the restaurant himself, this time. The classic Jaguar was long and low and beautifully restored. Sitting back in the cool leather seat, she couldn’t help her gaze straying to where his hands rested on the steering wheel. The confident way he handled the car shouldn’t have roused her notice, but she’d discovered an odd sensitivity in herself to Jared Barrett. All the more reason, to step lightly and carefully when in his presence.
Seated in the Classico five minutes later and having placed their orders, Kelsey looked around the restaurant he’d ostensibly brought her to survey. She’d expected cool pinks and mint greens combined with bamboo chairs. That or some version of an English pub, all leather and brass railings. The Classico, however, conveyed wealth with its plush, subdued environment. Navy and maroon with rich cherrywood furniture.
“What do you think?” Jared asked, his gaze intent on her face, that now-familiar faint smile on his lips.
“Very nicely done,” she pronounced, glancing around the room again. “Good placement of tables with some open areas, some secluded nooks. Good, classic color scheme.”