She shuffled papers in front of her and said, “We’re slated to have at least forty new clients by next June.”
“Triple it.” Brogan said and nodded toward the guy sitting next to Melissa. “What do you have on our return on investment projections, Gabe?”
“I’m still working on it, but it looks like we’ll double our profits by the end of the fiscal year.”
Brogan nodded, pleased. “That’s what I like to hear. Have the numbers on my desk by Friday.”
Gabe smiled and gave a quick chin bob, which I assumed meant “sure thing” in dude talk.
He worked his way around the table, each person sharing their reports from their specific departments.
“What other news do we have?”
Someone chimed in on an idea to save Starr Media money by cutting services that were weighing the company down and not providing much in terms of profit.
“That’s a really great idea. Get on that as soon as you’re done with analytics.”
I glanced around the room in awe. Odd, everyone seemed happy to be there. Nothing like the classes I’d taken in college, where students stared at the clock the second their butts hit their seats. No one was on their phone, perusing social media. No one was flicking pieces of paper or focusing on their computers. Every set of blue, green, hazel, and brown eyes was cast toward our CEO, hanging on every word he said. The only exception was Jackson (surprise, surprise). Then again, if it didn’t involve making people regret the day they were born, I doubted it would elicit more than an eye roll from him.
After each member gave input on their division of the company, Brogan stood and smiled at everyone, the dimples making an appearance.
“Keep up the great work, team.” He clasped his hands together, and everyone pushed away from their seats and strolled out of the conference room.
As I gathered up my computer, I realized Brogan and I were the only ones left in the conference room.
He cleared his throat and asked, “Did you get what you needed?”
My head shot up to look at him. He was standing by the floor to ceiling window, light pooling around his features. “Needed?” If he’d read my thoughts at that exact second, he’d know that what I needed involved less articles of clothing and more chocolate (because chocolate is always the answer, no matter the question).
“You said you left something downstairs earlier.”
“Oh, yes.”
“I know you’ve read the manual, so I’m assuming you understand you’re violating dress code right now?” There was a teasing quality to his voice, and I was fairly certain this was payback for my smartass remark the first time we’d met. His gaze dropped below eye-level for a fraction of a second again…and was that a groan? It was so quiet that if I’d been breathing at that moment I might not have heard it. But there was definitely a noise coming from his direction.
No, I had to be imagining things. Brogan Starr did not just look at my chest and groan. Right?
“Yes, sir. I’ll get right on covering it up.” I crossed my arms and his eyes widened the slightest.
He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple sliding along his throat. “Yes, I think that’s a good idea.” Something about the heated stare sent goose bumps skittering across my skin. A guy hadn’t looked at me like that in a long time—or at least, for most of my college career I’d been too busy with my nose in a textbook to notice. No, this had to be a hallucination caused by my epic dry spell. I was making more out of this than it was. Poor guy was just giving me a hard time, and I was turning it into one of those steamy romances I’d just read on my tablet.
Just as I reached the door he called out, “I couldn’t help but notice you didn’t add anything in the meeting.” He grabbed a stack of papers from the table and tapped them against the surface. His thumb ran across the edge of his papers in a smooth, steady pattern. “Participation is highly encouraged.”
“I didn’t know if it was my place to say anything.” Seriously, my days employed were in the single digits. What did I have to contribute to this meeting? I was Brogan’s assistant. Everything he needed to know, I’d already relayed to Jackson, who then gave that information to him.
“Did you list Latte Fetcher on your resume?”