Million Dollar Devil (Million Dollar #1)(20)

“Good morning, Mr. B.” The secretary hurries around her desk to greet him.

“Elizabeth,” is all my dad says, ignoring LB as he disappears inside.

I leap to my feet and follow him inside.

“Good news, Dad. I have secured the perfect man for our campaign.”

Dad shrugs out of his crisp black suit jacket and hangs it on the back of his chair before taking a seat. “Is it Johnson? Where is he?”

He’s looking around as if I have him stuffed in my briefcase.

“Well . . . no . . .” I glance around the collectibles in the office as if I lost my explanation somewhere there. “He’s going to cash the check, so it’ll take a few days to get the contract squared away.”

I exhale after that. That will at least buy me a few days.

“Right, then. I expect to meet him. Next week?” He flips on his phone to check his calendar, as if ready to schedule me. “Anyone I know?”

“No. Which is even better. He’ll be fresh to the market and blow any of the options I previously showed you out of the water.”

He lifts his head, his bushy eyebrows flying up in wonder. “Really? I’m intrigued.”

I nod happily, nerves curving like pretzels in my stomach. “Yep. Prepare to be wowed.” I use my hands to make an exploding motion.

Okay, Elizabeth, this is overkill, and he’ll know something fishy is up. Stop overselling!

I’m rescued by the phone ringing on his desk, and I exhale a ragged breath as Dad picks up with a brusque “Yes? Aha. Put him through.” He listens to the other end, his expression darkening. “That’s correct. If it’s ready for me to view, I’ll take a flight out today. Don’t make me waste my time,” he warns before he disconnects the call.

“That was Steven Marx on the phone. We’re well underway on the final expansion of our Minnesota warehouses. I’m flying to Minneapolis. I’ll be home in a few days—if I don’t decide to tour some of our other storage facilities afterward.” He stands and summons his secretary, who appears at the door with LB.

Dad waves LB into his office, and I cringe when LB says, “Mr. B., Elizabeth. Always a pleasure to see you both so early in the morning.”

“What a fraud,” I whisper under my breath, but Dad’s scowl proves I was louder than necessary.

“LB, I want you to be Lizzy’s second on this menswear-line launch. It’s our biggest launch in years, and it has to be perfect.” I feel LB’s superior smile as my father looks at me. “I want you to keep him up to date on the preparations. All preparations. West Coast Fashion Week is not very far away. Do you understand me?”

I nod like a toddler who was just told to stop throwing her Cheerios on the floor.

He motions to his secretary about needing to book a flight to Minneapolis, ASAP.

After Dad collects his laptop and some files, he plants a kiss on my cheek. “If you need anything, you know how to reach me.”

“She’ll be fine,” LB says.

I want to deck him until Dad beams. “Of course she will. She has you.”

On second thought, decking is for sissies. I want to kick him. In the balls. But I smile politely and give my dad a beaming smile.

“Please. I’m a Banks. I don’t need anyone to be fine. I’ve got everything under control. Don’t worry, Dad. Leave everything to me.”

“And LB,” he reminds me, as if everything I just said went in one ear and out the other.

“Right,” I mutter. UGH.

LB smiles at me. “Elizabeth, we should set up a meeting later to go over everything you’re working on.”

Grrrr.

I step out and leave them to their business, heading to a lower floor, to a temporary office I’m using for now.

I’m thinking hard as I head to my desk.

Dad’s business trip couldn’t have come at a better time. It’s just what I need to get James on the straight and narrow gentlemen’s path. But how am I going to get LB off my case?

Suddenly, it comes to me. There are two main things I’m tasked with for the new menswear launch. First is getting our new face photographed and ready for the events. Second is scheduling all the meetings with various buyers to introduce him around. If I handle the first one and give LB my list of buyers so he can schedule our meetings, then he won’t be able to tell my dad I’m keeping him totally in the dark. And if he asks to see the model, I can fudge a little.

I can do this.

I spend all day working on the plans for the big launch as well as reviewing our designs, then head home at five p.m. Pulling out my phone, I text Jeanine as I ride in the back of a company car home.

Any news on my guy?

Jeanine: You mean sexy Thor with dark hair and perfect ass?

Me: I checked my bank statement online. He hasn’t cashed the check. I need that to happen asap so I can get started.

Jeanine: Don’t worry on that. He’s signed the contract, so you’re good to go. You’re going to need all the time you can get to transform that beast into a beauty.

“Thanks, Roger,” I tell the driver as he drops me off.

I’m marching briskly, phone in hand, toward my building when I spot a tall man leaning against the building’s mirrored walls.

Dressed in light denim jeans and a white old T-shirt, something about him makes me take a second look. He’s very . . . very . . . hot, but he does not belong in this neighborhood in the least. I’m surprised the doormen didn’t shoo him away for loitering.