The Mix-Up (Southern Hearts Club #3) - Melanie Munton Page 0,24
he made a move, I wouldn’t have turned him down.
But that’s not even in the realm of possibility now.
For so many stupid reasons.
Once I’ve finished with my last slide, I sit on the opposite side of the table as Chadwick and Baldwin. Ryder is seated in the head chair, naturally.
“Now, this is just a standard package we’ve compiled to fit your needs, but it can be adjusted as needed,” I explain. “What questions do you have?”
Chadwick immediately starts in with the practical, boilerplate questions I’m used to answering. Despite Ryder’s unwavering stare, I’m able to respond intelligently and articulately.
“Your thoughts on our product logo were interesting,” Baldwin chimes in, his mouth quirking. “That was my original design.”
I force myself not to appear sheepish. It wasn’t my intention to offend the man, but I also have a job to do. “And it’s clever and creative, don’t get me wrong. I just think it could be a bit more straightforward.”
Baldwin waves me off. “No, I agree. I like what your team drew up. The lines are cleaner. The message is more succinct. Out of curiosity, was that your design?”
I nod. “I know it’s very rough,” I rush to say. “I’m not a graphic artist by any means—”
“It’s impressive.” Baldwin shoots Chadwick an inquiring glance. “I think we might use that instead, actually.” Chadwick nods in assent.
A sense of accomplishment warms my blood at their approval. It’s nice to have the affirmation that you’re doing your job well. I’m not one of those who always seeks validation, but I won’t turn my nose up at it when I receive it.
“I thought you could go over this point a little more in-depth,” Ryder interjects as he slides his informational packet toward me. He points to a handwritten note in the lower right margin.
Stop flirting with him.
I have to do a double take, just to make sure I haven’t suddenly forgotten how to read. My eyes fly up to his. He gives the tiniest, barely perceptible shake of his head. A warning.
The motherfudging nerve.
In a client meeting, he wants to pull this crap? Really?
Oh, he deserves to suffer for that one.
I paste on a bright smile for the men across from me. “Yes, I agree.”
Thinking quickly on my feet to cover up the heated exchange between me and my boss, I do a brief rundown of the potential reach the local billboards and social media ads have. During my breakdown, I casually shrug out of my blazer and drape it over the back of my chair, leaving my arms and shoulders bare in the snakeskin tank.
The armrest of Ryder’s leather chair creaks under his tightened grip.
The power move clearly enrages him, especially when Baldwin’s eyelids grow heavy after falling on my exposed skin. But in this moment, Ryder’s desire is beating out his anger, if the way he’s doing the no-hands pants dance in order to adjust himself is any indication.
Another fifteen minutes later, we’ve wrapped things up and are all pushing to our feet. “We really appreciate you putting this together so quickly,” Chadwick says. “We’ll make our decision by the end of the week.”
Ryder nods. “Excellent. And if you have any questions in the meantime, please don’t hesitate to call.”
“Do you have a business card?” Baldwin asks me. Not Ryder.
I pat down my skirt. No pockets. “Um, I have some on my desk—”
“You can just call our main line and they’ll put you through to me,” Ryder cuts in. “If I’m not available, then they’ll redirect you to Ms. Castellanos.”
Baldwin’s gaze darts to Ryder, and they engage in some silent standoff that Chadwick is oblivious to. “You two seem to make a great team.”
Ryder’s jaw clenches. “We are.”
Baldwin glances at me, then back to my boss. “I might have to hire you away from him if anything changes, Ms. Castellanos.”
Before I can even open my mouth, Ryder bites out, “It won’t.”
After several more seconds of their silent standoff, Baldwin eventually nods and trails Chadwick out the door.
I’m vibrating with fury. Just when I think his audacity couldn’t get more outlandish—more presumptuous—he actually goes and speaks on my behalf in front of a client. If he thinks I’m stupid enough to not pick up on all that man-to-man subterfuge, we don’t know each other as well as I thought. And he obviously has much less respect for me than I thought.
“Wow.” My voice is dry as I scoop up all my materials and head for the door. “I mean, really…wow.”