Chapter 7
Sharleen spotted Brad at the Pathways Center booth inside the Atlanta Convention Center and narrowed her eyes in disgust. He was nothing to write home about, but what he lacked in the looks department, he more than made up for in personality. He was great with people, especially the opposite sex. Women were gathered around the booth, batting their eyelashes and gazing adoringly at him, as if he were the man of their dreams.
More like a nightmare with dimples!
The sound of his loud, hearty chuckle made her skin crawl. She wanted to knee Brad in the groin for what he’d done to Jocelyn, but lashing out at her colleague—and her boss’s favorite employee—would only make the situation worse. Now, more than ever, she needed to keep a cool head. By the time Sharleen reached the booth Brad was alone, typing on his iPhone. The moment he saw her, he jumped to his feet and shoved his cell into his back pocket.
“Hey,” she said, forcing the word out through pursed lips.
“There you are. I’ve been waiting to see your pretty face.” Brad glanced over his shoulder and licked his lips. “And that fat, juicy ass.”
Sharleen glared at him. “What did you say?”
“Cool your heels. It was a compliment.”
“Keep your compliments to yourself. I don’t need them.”
“FYI,” he said, with a wink. “I like when you’re feisty. It’s a turn-on.”
Taking a giant step back, Sharleen reached into her purse, took out a pack of breath mints and shoved it into his hands. “Here. Take this. I insist.”
His eyes darkened. “You think you’re hot stuff because you graduated from Duke, but I’m not impressed. You’re a second-rate life coach and everyone knows it.”
Sharleen let his insult roll off her back and smiled brightly at everyone who passed their booth.
“It’s too bad about Jocelyn getting canned, huh? In my opinion, it was long overdue...”
Her eyes thinned, and her temper flared. Sharleen wanted to strangle Brad, to kill him with her bare hands. She imagined how good it would feel wringing his scrawny neck.
“Have you spoken to Jocelyn recently?”
Sharleen ignored the question, pretended she didn’t hear it. “’Bye, Brad. See you around.”
“I’m not going anywhere. I’m here for the rest of the day. Boss’s orders.”
“All Pathways employees are entitled to man the booth for an hour,” she reminded him. “This is my time to hand out business cards and sign up new clients.”
“You were supposed to be here from nine to ten.”
“I switched time slots with Christelle.”
“Too bad,” he said, with a dismissive shrug of his shoulders. “You snooze, you lose.”
“I can’t believe this. You’re incredible—”
“Thanks, toots, you’re not too bad yourself, and you have a great rack...” He broke off speaking, and the lewd grin slid off his face. “It’s an honor to meet you, Mr. Morretti. I’m Brad McClendon, one of the Master Life Coaches at Pathways Center...”
Sharleen turned around, saw Emilio standing behind her and swallowed a moan. He smelled of expensive cologne and looked fantastic in his tan sports coat, crisp white shirt and blue jeans. Sharleen would never have an affair with a client, but dammit if she wasn’t tempted. She wondered what his lips tasted like, longed to caress his handsome face and broad, muscled shoulders. Her attraction to Emilio was all-consuming, so powerful her body throbbed with need. The Italian race-car driver was an international superstar, but he was more than just another rich, hot athlete. He was a sweet, gentle soul. That was damned sexy, appealing in every way. But what impressed Sharleen most about Emilio was his quiet confidence. He had zero ego, and he treated everyone he met with kindness and respect.
“I was hoping I’d find you here.”
Don’t just stand there like a bump on a log. Speak, dammit, speak! All she could think about was kissing him, tasting his lips once and for all. But she wiped the thought from her mind and found her voice. “Hi, Emilio. How are you?”
“Great, now that I’ve found you.”
“Are you enjoying the conference so far?”
“Yes, as a matter of fact, I am. Thanks for inviting me.” He looked at her with a thoughtful expression. “The Stress Less, Live More workshop starts in fifteen minutes, and I was hoping you’d join me.”
Before Sharleen could respond, Brad stepped in front of her and vigorously shook Emilio’s hand. “I’m your biggest fan,” he boasted, with a wide, toothy smile. “I’ve worked with dozens of high-profile celebrities over the past nine years, and I think we’d be a perfect fit.”