The Price Of Scandal(25)

“I told you not to hire an assistant based on looks,” Emily reminded her.

“I didn’t hire him for his looks,” Lita argued unconvincingly.

“His nickname is Ram Rod, and he can bench press you,” Emily pointed out.

Lita grinned shamelessly. “Yeah. I guess he can. Look, I’ll send a VP and a photographer over today.”

“If this goes well, I’m going to want another look at the draft of the press kit for the product,” Emily explained.

“Of course you will,” Lita said with an eye roll that ended in a friendly wink.

“I just want to make sure everything is right,” Emily said lightly.

“Derek, you’ll find that Emily here has difficulty trusting people to do their jobs. But it’s one of the things we love best about her,” Lita teased.

Before Emily could respond, we were interrupted by a knock.

“Knock knock, ladies and Tea and Crumpets,” Jane called from the door. “Boss, it’s time to leave for the luncheon.”

“Derek, like I said, if there’s anything you need at all, don’t hesitate to call me,” Lita said, following us to the door. She slipped a card into my hand and gave me a meaningful look. “My cell is on the back.”

“Thank you. I’m looking forward to working with you.” I pocketed the card and followed Jane and Emily out with the distinct sensation that Lita was staring at my ass.

“Me-ow. She didn’t even get to see his schlong like we did, and she’s already going after him,” Jane mused, punching the button on the elevator.

“I give off a big schlong vibe,” I explained.

Emily snorted indelicately. “Can we please stop discussing Derek’s penis before we have an HR scandal to deal with, too?”

We stepped into the elevator car together. Emily pulled out her phone and dialed. “Valerie, I need you to reach out to Bill Haddad in marketing. Have him arrange to be at the lab with a photographer at three. Thank you.”

She tucked her phone back in her bag. “Lita has a lot on her plate,” she said.

“Yeah, Tea and Crumpets’s schlong,” Jane said.

Emily elbowed her.

“Why is your chief marketing officer’s office three times the size of yours?” I asked.

“Because she’s an important asset to this company and a valuable friend to me,” Emily said. It sounded like she’d given the answer before. “And I trust her.”

I smiled at the jab.

Turning to me, she looked up. “Why did you carry my purse this morning?”

I glanced down at her as she slid her sunglasses on. “In addition to being perfectly secure in my manhood—should you need an emergency tampon run, I’m your man—I was making sure the world knows who’s the boss.”

She pursed her lips, but they fought back, curving ever so slightly. “Do you ever do anything without an ulterior motive?”

“I like to think of it as multi-tasking.”





13





Derek





Emily’s public presentation persona could use a little loosening up, but the speech went over well. The audience was warmly polite, and no one demanded her to answer questions about the near-arrest.

I considered it a lukewarm positive.

By the time I was done cracking her lovely, hard-shelled exterior, I had a feeling the world would be falling for Ms. Emily Stanton. I just had to figure out where exactly she kept her humanity hidden.

While two hundred and fifty women dug into their Caesar salads, I pulled Emily out the side door of the ballroom where Jane was waiting with my car.

I slid into the back with her and reached over the front seat.

Jane’s fingers drummed on the wheel in time to a sexy salsa number from a playlist she’d synced to my vehicle.

“Would you prefer the cilantro lime chicken or the tuna salad?” I offered Emily both containers.

She blinked. “Oh. Ah. I’ll have the chicken.”

“He asked for your favorites, just so you don’t think he’s big-dicked, gorgeous, and psychic,” Jane said, easing down the alley.

A smile flitted around Emily’s pink lips.

“So, how did it go?” Jane asked.

“I got pity applause.” Emily sighed, the smile evaporating.

“Better than a boot to the face,” Jane said cheerfully.

“You did very well,” I assured Emily. “It takes a while to win trust. This was just a baby step in the right direction. Next on the agenda…” I said, taking my readers out of my pocket and skimming the calendar on my phone.

“The lab,” Emily announced through a mouthful of food. She sounded a little livelier, and I was curious if it was the food or the anticipation.

“Tell me more,” I urged, removing my glasses and tucking my phone away.

She dropped her fork neatly in the container. “Eighteen months ago, we discovered an interesting phenomenon involving the moisture barrier of scarred skin,” she began, and it was like the sun had lit her from within. “Stop me if I get too technical.”

Jane smirked in the driver seat and then tapped the brakes hard when an elderly man with a walker sauntered into the street from between two parked cars.