Tempting the New Boss(9)
She and her sisters had played the military one. As the game was age-correlated, however, she was always relegated to cadet, being at the bottom of the brood. Such was life.
The dimple disappeared. “I didn’t have many friends.”
She coughed. “Well, that’s a difficult time. Childhood, I mean. Or it can be.”
She thought of the graceful old Tudor, three stories in all, where she had been raised, with faded hardwood floors and carpets beaten down under generations of little feet. Dogs that got bigger and more numerous each year, and cats that had litters before anybody even knew they hadn’t been spayed, the kittens as tiny as mice when you perched them on your palm. Pure chaos. And tremendous fun.
She had loved her childhood, but not everybody was lucky enough to have warm enveloping protection all mixed in with rowdy camaraderie, and of course love.
“The important thing, Mr. Talbot, is you’ve made a success of yourself and of course you have friends now.”
He opened his mouth and she forged on, determined he not correct her. “So let’s role-play. I’ll be that person trying to shake your hand and talk to you, and you think of something you want to say. No rush. No pressure. And next time you’re in that situation, you won’t feel at a loss. Let’s try it.”
She extended her hand, and though he looked doubtful, he took it, the blue eyes concentrating on her face, first only her eyes, but then he seemed to take a trip along the whole expanse, the cheeks, the hair, the chin. She suddenly wished she had worn more makeup, not the quick swipe of mascara and blush and the dab of glossy lipstick probably gone by now.
Unlike the brief handshake they had shared at his office, the prolonged clasp of his large, long-fingered hand over hers felt intimate. His breath seemed to come a little quicker. She knew hers did.
Seated opposite each other in the limo, they both leaned forward until they were only inches apart. She swallowed, remembering what it was she was supposed to be doing. “Ah, okay.” She pasted a brighter smile on her glossless lips. “So, Mr. Talbot, I’m so honored to meet you. I’ve read all about your company and I think—um, let’s make her—”
“Who?”
“The person I’m pretending to be. Let’s make her an investment banker because they are the absolute, bar none, pushiest. So I’ve read about your company, and I think you’re doing a fantastic job, but I know my firm could add fifty-whatever basis points to your stock and lower your debt cost a hundred-million basis points.”
She pursed her lips at the exaggeration.
“Now, take your time, just think about it. I’m shaking your hand, pressing you for future business, whatever, and you say…”
She waited, and with the hand that wasn’t shaking hers, he touched her strand of pearls, just one finger. So gently she almost thought she imagined it.
Then he said, “You have beautiful blue eyes.”
Damned if that wasn’t just what she was thinking!
Chapter Two
She coughed. “Uh, well, uh…”
“Sorry.” His voice was low. “It was what came to mind. Very light. Your eyes, I mean. But I guess that’s not what I should say when I’m shaking hands with an investment banker, right?”
“No, that’s okay. Everybody in my family has blue eyes. If one of us had brown,” she babbled on, “that’d be a big deal.”
He pulled his hand away and sat back, folding his legs, eyes on the window again. “It was just an observation.”
“No, really, that’s fine, Mr. Talbot. That’s part of the role-playing. So we don’t say the first thing that comes to our mind. You know, we practice.”
“And I should have said what?”
“Well, something more generic like, ‘I’m always open to new ideas. Feel free to give my secretary a call.’ Then you could screen them and only talk to the ones you want.”
“Very helpful. Thank you.” But he was still looking out the window as the exit sign for the airport came up.
When they got to the airport and the car pulled up to the sleek private jet on the runway, two co-pilots hustled out to meet them holding umbrellas aloft to shield them from the driving rain. They grabbed Talbot’s briefcase and her own roller suitcase, though she kept her computer bag.
“The weather’s pretty bad, Mr. Talbot,” one of them said as they climbed the steps to the plane. “But if you want to get to the UK today, we better go now.”
“Fine,” Talbot said shortly, taking one of the lush leather seats next to a window while she took another on the opposite side of the aisle after storing her bag in an upper bin.