Cole had been around the world of advertising a long time, and if there was one thing he knew for certain, it was that sex sold. It sold products, services, and campaigns. And yet Olivia did everything she could to neutralize the fact that she was a woman. More power to her, he supposed. He respected her integrity, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t a mistake.
Today she wore a black suit with red accents and a pair of sensible black heels. Black was the single most boring color on the planet as far as he was concerned, but it worked for her, the tailored suit hugging her body in all the right places. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail again and she wore minimal makeup. Cole frowned. Was she trying to mask her beauty in blandness? If so, she’d failed miserably. With her delicate features, the natural look worked just as well as the black suit. Of course, a little color in her cheeks would do wonders, and he knew just how to elicit that response, if only she’d let him.
As if sensing his thoughts, Olivia jerked her gaze up to meet his. He smiled and received a tight-lipped frown in return.
“Time,” she called, prompting several groans from the group. She tossed a black marker to the guy she’d been whispering to. “Jack, you take notes today.”
Jack scrambled to the front of the conference room, nearly tripping over his own two feet. He pushed a crop of unruly blond hair from his eyes and prepared himself to jot down the ideas of his peers on the dry-erase board mounted on the wall.
Cole couldn’t decide if the kid was an overachieving kiss-ass or a genuinely awkward human being. With two left feet, a red bowtie, and wire rimmed glasses, the latter seemed like the obvious answer. There was no doubt Jack was smart. Pritchard wouldn’t have hired him otherwise, but did he have the fire in his belly to do the job?
“All right, people, let’s see what you’ve got,” Olivia said.
“From our kitchen to yours, Mama’s Muffins are baked with love.”
“Fresh from Mama’s oven, you’ve never had a muffin this good.”
“Mama’s Muffins: because even mamas need a break sometimes.”
“Got muffins?”
“Nothing says lovin’ like Mama’s Muffins.”
“Who’s your Mama?”
The ideas just kept coming, flowing like word-vomit, each one worse than the last. Cole shook his head in disgust. He couldn’t believe his ears. These were some of the most experienced and sought after agents in the city, the finest Pritchard, Bennett, & Associates had to offer, and this was the best they could do? Any minute now they would break out singing Kumbaya and indulge in one big, happy, fucking love fest. It was nauseating.
“Keep them coming, people,” Olivia encouraged, although Jack and his not-so-magic marker were struggling to keep up. She scanned the room, passing Cole over once again. He cleared his throat, refusing to be shut out any longer. He had a job to do, after all, one that he suspected wasn’t going to earn him any friends, and would surely make him a few enemies. It wouldn’t be the first time, but he hadn’t gotten where he was by worrying about what other people thought.
“If I may,” he offered, rising from his chair and approaching Jack. He held out his hand for the marker and the kid froze, his gaze swinging wildly from Cole to Olivia. If this was all it took to rattle the guy, he had no business representing PBA. The kid looked like he wanted to curl up under the table in the fetal position. “Olivia?”
With a look of annoyance, she nodded her head, signaling Jack to relinquish the pen. He returned to his seat at the table and Cole uncapped the marker, ceremoniously crossing out every suggestion the team had made. And damn if it didn’t feel good.
“Excuse me, what exactly are you doing?” Olivia asked, stalking to the front of the room where she stood toe-to-toe with him. Her blue eyes flashed, and he could feel the tension emanating from her body. Mission accomplished. He had her undivided attention now.
“We’re starting fresh,” he explained, a smirk hitching up the right corner of his mouth. “Pritchard, Bennett, & Associates owes the client our very best, and this isn’t it.”
“With all due respect, my team and I have been working the Mama’s Muffins account for years,” she returned, a tight, fake smile plastered on her face, “and we understand their needs quite well.”
“You’re kidding, right?” He knew he was treading in dangerous territory, but he couldn’t help himself. Seeing Olivia flushed and excited? He wanted more and he knew just how to get it. If she didn’t want to talk about their night together, they could talk about her other favorite subject: work. “‘Nothing says lovin’ like Mama’s Muffins?’ If this is the best we can do, we should all pack our bags and get the hell out of New York.”
The room fell silent. No one spoke. No one moved. He wasn’t even sure they were still breathing. So be it. He could wait them out. Besides, it was the most fun he’d had all day.