Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all. Chemistry like theirs was meant to be explored, not stamped out. Perhaps fate had intervened on his behalf. He had wanted to see her again. Not that she was likely to let him get within five feet of her—at least, not naked. He’d have to work on that. If everything Pritchard said was true, and it probably was, since the old man was sparing with his praise, she was an incredibly valuable asset to the company. They couldn’t afford to lose her. He would have to find a way to make things right between them. If only to prove to himself that he hadn’t completely fucked up again, pissing away his future like his old man had.
Dissolving his partnership in London and relocating to New York hadn’t exactly been the long-term plan, but then again, long-term plans didn’t seem to work out for him. Pritchard had needed an influx of cash, and Cole had needed a fresh start away from the memories London held. PBA might have been a marriage of convenience, but he intended to make the most of it, bringing a portfolio of powerhouse clients and sinking the majority of his assets into the company. Despite recent cash flow problems, Jonathan had built a solid agency with a great reputation in the advertising industry. Together, they would take PBA to the next level. He’d do whatever it took to make that happen, because the fact was, he had to succeed in New York. And success meant fixing things with Olivia.
Maybe she just needed some time to adjust to his presence. She was a passionate woman, but when the flames died down, who knew? For Cole, there was only one certainty: the idea of having those legs wrapped around him again was tempting. Yes, he would definitely have to work on getting under Olivia’s skin the way she’d gotten under his. But first he’d have to earn her trust, and that was going to be an uphill battle all the way.
Chapter Six
Olivia removed her glasses and tossed them onto the desk blotter. She closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose. Her head was throbbing and the Tylenol stash she kept hidden in her top left drawer was depleted. Thankfully, it was almost quitting time.
This would be a day for the record books, because she planned to be out the door by five-oh-one and on her way home to a nice bottle of merlot. She wasn’t normally one to drown her sorrows in alcohol, but if Pritchard’s earlier bombshell wasn’t wine-worthy, what was? A soak in the tub didn’t sound half bad either. She’d slough off the day and start fresh in the morning. Tomorrow would be a better day. It couldn’t be any worse.
A knock at the door startled her. She didn’t have any appointments scheduled, and normally no one dared come by her office this late for fear of getting sucked into an evening work session. Her team was strong, but none of them shared her dedication or drive. While Olivia lived to work, most of them favored Chloe’s “work to live” philosophy.
She opened her eyes to find Cole leaning on the doorjamb, arms crossed over his chest like he owned the place, which, technically, he did now. The whole thing smacked of “boys club”. He flashed her a dimpled smile that she suspected was meant to be disarming. It only pissed her off more.
The man was insufferable. Did he really think a smile was all it would take to make up for… everything? He probably did. It was obvious he relied on his good looks to get what he wanted, but she wouldn’t be falling for that again.
“Yes?” she asked, the solitary word sounding cold and callous even to her own ears. She definitely wouldn’t be invited to join the welcoming committee. She’d never treated a coworker, let alone a superior, that way before, but she couldn’t seem to rein in her attitude. He’d humiliated her and crushed her dreams. So what if he hadn’t known what he was doing? The end result was still the same. Couldn’t he just stay out of her hair for one stinking day so she could lick her wounds and regroup in private?
“Can we talk?” he asked, stepping through the door and shutting it behind him in one fluid motion.
For a big guy, he moved with ease. She remembered just how graceful he could be when it suited him. Heat coursed through her veins at the memory and she was thankful he couldn’t read her mind. Just because her stupid body craved his touch, didn’t mean she was going to give into the urge. Her head would win out; it always did.
“It would appear I don’t have much choice in the matter,” she returned, ignoring her lusty impulses and focusing instead on her humiliation-fueled anger. “What can I do for you this evening, Mr. Bennett?”
“Mr. Bennett?” He snorted, and much to her disdain, even that was kind of sexy. “I think we’re beyond formalities, don’t you?”
“I beg to differ. Pritchard won’t be putting my name on the letterhead any time soon.”
“I didn’t come here to talk about stationery.” He raked a hand through his hair and rubbed the back of his neck, looking uncertain for what was probably the first time in his perfect life. “Mind if I sit down?”