LITMIR.BIZ

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on paper. I’d rather we just work together.”

      She set her face in a frown. She was a slender woman, with red hair cut in a straight bob, and eyebrows so sculpted they looked chiseled onto her face. She’d had a problem with Mark since the day he’d joined the team. “Mark, can I talk to you for a minute?” she said in a low voice.

      He nodded, allowing himself to be pulled aside, knowing that Simone was studying them intently. “Yes?”

      She took a deep breath. “Look, it’s obvious that Roger doesn’t really want you on this project. So why don’t you let me do the bulk of the work?” Her eyes were like laser beams in their intensity. “No offense, but I know that this stuff—reports, this kind of leg work—isn’t really your strong suit.”

      He winced. Remind me again how that’s not supposed to offend me. “I’m curious—what makes you say that?”

      “Well, you’ve never done something like this before,” she said, as if it were patently obvious.

      “But I’ve worked on lots of projects,” he countered. “Hell, lots of people on the team have asked me for advice. And Simone knows nobody knows competitive info like I do.”

      She frowned, as if amazed he was still putting up a fight. “Well, you’re a sales guy. You don’t have the background…”

      “I got my MBA two years ago,” he said shortly. “In marketing.”

      She sighed. “You don’t know how we work.”

      It was like battering up against a concrete slab. He sighed. He wasn’t going to win if he fought her way—supposed rational arguments, business talk. He only had one choice left.

      He leaned forward, smiling…his most winning smile. He made sure he focused his gaze on her as if she were the only woman on earth. It was something they’d always talked about on the catwalk, back when he’d modeled.

      She swallowed hard, obviously taken off guard.

      “I won’t get in your way, Carol,” he said, his voice pitched low, almost intimate. “I know that this is a big deal, and you’ve probably done tons of marketing launches and competitive proposals. I’m only asking for a chance.”

      She blinked at him. He’d never turned the full force of his charm on her before—he hadn’t wanted to waste the energy, and frankly, he always felt a little dirty when he used it this deliberately. Still, he knew the minute she started to waver.

      He deliberately pulled his drawl out to a ribbon. “Please,” he murmured. “It would mean a lot to me.”

      She flushed slightly, and looked away, taking a deep breath before looking back at him. “I…I’ll need to do most of the work, though,” she said, and then cleared her throat so her voice didn’t sound so ragged. “And we’ll need to make sure that I’m the one that does most of the talking.”

      “Of course,” he said easily. He didn’t agree, but he’d tackle that later—he had a yes and he wasn’t going to mess with it, just as he’d always learned in sales. “We’ll set up something tomorrow to touch base, would that be all right? Then get all the details ironed out.”

      “All right,” she said, although she finally sounded a lot less sure of herself. Then she walked away.

      Mark gathered his papers together, and Simone walked up beside him. “You are amazing.”

      He paused, picking up his pen. “How’s that?”

      “I didn’t think anybody could chill out Warrior Princess Carol,” she responded, with a light chuckle in her voice. “But if anybody could, it would be you, huh?”

      He chose to ignore that. Simone was his boss, and sort of a friend, but her sense of business ethics could get somewhat hazy. “Thanks for standing up for me with Roger,” he said instead, focusing on her kindness.

      “It’s time. I know you’re smart, Mark,” she said. “You just need a chance, that’s all. So—what else do you know about Diva Nation?”

      “Not as much as I’d like,” he admitted. “They’re not very big, but their products are amazing—really outside the box.” He smiled slightly, remembering. “I know that they’ve got a perfumed body lotion that is practically hallucinogenic.”

      “Really,” she said, her voice ripe with speculation. “I probably don’t want to know how you know that.”

      He realized he was letting something slip, and quickly clammed up. “I’ll buy their entire product line before I meet with Carol. And I’ll know a ton more by tomorrow.”

      “You know,” Simone said carefully, “I couldn’t help but notice you had a bit of a connection with that Diva Nation woman—Sophie, her name was. Right?”

      “She’s a nice woman,” Mark said carefully. “And just because we’re competitors doesn’t mean I need to hate her on sight, does it?”

      “I’m merely saying,” Simone continued. “She seemed to like you, too. Maybe you could see what you could find out. I’m sure she’d be happy to talk to you on some kind of neutral ground.”

      Mark felt it again—that dirty, unethical, icky feeling. “Trust me, she’s not the type.”

      “Already tried, huh?” Simone laughed, and in that moment, Mark wished he were anywhere but here. “I might’ve guessed. You’re going to be a great marketing guy, and you’re going to knock this one out of the park. You’ll be one of the best.”

      He smiled weakly, then fled. If being one of the best meant using a sweet person like Sophie…

      He shook his head. It wasn’t as if he had anything with Sophie, and even if he did…well, he wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize that, he promised himself. He just wouldn’t.

      3

      SOPHIE GLANCED AT THE CLOCK by her bed. Ten o’clock. Early, by a lot of people’s standards. Unfortunately, she knew that sleep would evade her for another three hours, at least. She felt wired, even though she’d deliberately only drunk decaf all day. She’d gotten a good chunk of work done: she had most of the slides ready for the Marion & Co. presentation. She was a little nervous, but more excited—the sign that it was going to go very, very well.

      But right now, she wasn’t thinking of the presentation. She was thinking, as usual, about Mark McMann.

      She pushed her face down into her foam pillow. They’d agreed not to have any contact other than professional—after all, they were in competition, their paths would cross. But they had to be very, very careful, so no one would suspect how close they’d come to…well, getting very, very close. No friendly chats in elevators, no random “bump-into” exchanges in the lobby. Certainly no drinks in the hotel bar.

      It also meant she sure as hell shouldn’t call him.

      She sighed heavily. Even without the competition, she knew they shouldn’t get involved in any way, shape or form. Men who looked like him did not under normal circumstances go for women who looked like her, for one thing. And while Sophie knew she wasn’t ugly, she wasn’t about to pass for a model any time soon. She also knew that he had plenty of women going after him. He probably had no shortage of willing applicants for the position of bed warmer, and no doubt had spent plenty of time with a variety of them. And that type of man wasn’t her type at all.

      She thought about Troy, her last and longest-lasting relationship. He had been tall, geeky, with blond hair and glasses. He was a finance analyst, and a good one. They’d met in the MBA program at the University of California, San Diego. In her case, it had been love at first sight. They’d been friends first, but she’d always known they’d shift over to lovers.

      What she had not known was they should’ve stayed friends. She’d nearly smothered in all that comfort and compatibility. And she had

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