LITMIR.BIZ

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been sitting in David’s office for what felt like hours, talking about everything except the reason he was here. He now knew where the bald man’s favorite golf course was—South Carolina—what he preferred to drink—bourbon, straight up—and even how he had gotten his name—his mom had named him after Michelangelo’s David.

      But he still didn’t know what his first assignment was going to be or why it had to be secret. When David had called him to see if he might be interested he’d said only that he needed help winning a giant piece of new business—one that had the potential to change the future of the agency.

      That was interesting enough, but it was what David had said next that had sold him on the job.

      “Mark, I’ve been searching everywhere for someone who can help me bring this home. When your name came up I knew you were the man for the job. I need you on this.”

      “How did you get my name?” Mark had asked, afraid that it was another one of his stepfather’s pieces of charity.

      “Mark, you’ve taken home gold from almost every major advertising competition there is. Your name is everywhere.”

      Which meant this was a job he’d gotten on his own merits—not through his damned stepfather’s connections. Even better, David had all but promised him a permanent spot in the creative leadership team once they landed the account.

      It was the opportunity he’d spent the past ten years working toward. He couldn’t wait to get started.

      He just wished he knew what Becky had to do with it.

      When he’d looked her up, he’d been amazed at how talented she seemed to be. In the five short years she’d been working as a copywriter she’d earned herself numerous awards. The whole reason she’d been in Vegas was because she was being honored with another award—this one for a social-media campaign she’d masterminded that had gone viral.

      In short, she was as amazing in the boardroom as she was in the bedroom.

      And what he wouldn’t give to experience that again!

      He remembered how hot she’d looked, standing in his room clad only in her red lace bra and panties. And how much better she’d looked out of them...

      Unfortunately the look on her face when she’d found him standing in her office had been completely and utterly horrified—and, if he wasn’t mistaken, more than a little bit furious. He didn’t think she was having the same kinds of thoughts he was having right now.

      Just then there was a soft knock on the door.

      “Come in,” David said.

      The door opened and Becky quietly entered the room.

      He wasn’t sure how it was possible, but she looked even sexier in her blazer and jeans than she had wearing a cocktail dress.

      She flashed a quick look at him, and flushed when he caught her eye. Man, how he’d love to see how far down that flush went.

      “Thank you for coming, Becky, my girl,” David boomed. Although he couldn’t have been much more than forty, the man mimicked the vocal mannerisms of a Mad Men–style ad man. “Sit, sit, sit. We have a lot to talk about.”

      She glided across the thick red carpet and sat primly in the oversize club chair next to Mark.

      “I trust you had a good time in Vegas, my dear?” David asked.

      Becky seemed to force out a smile. “It was amazing, David. Thank you so much for letting me go.”

      “Of course—you deserved it. Besides, I knew you were one woman I could trust not to get too carried away in Vegas. I would have never sent that partner of yours. She’s trouble with a capital T.”

      Becky’s laugh sounded even more forced than her smile had been. “Yeah, you know me. Married to my job and all that.”

      “Oh, not to worry, Becky. Sooner or later a fine-looking girl like you is bound to get snapped up. Then you’ll be too busy having babies to write brilliant campaigns for me anymore. That’s how it always goes. Right, Mark?”

      Mark was floored. People still talked like that? In an office? It was a miracle this guy hadn’t been slapped with a multimillion-dollar lawsuit yet. Or, judging from the fury flashing in Becky’s eyes, murdered.

      “I don’t know about that, David. I know plenty of working mothers who—”

      David cut him off. “Right, right. I know. Girls can do anything men can—blah, blah, blah. None of that matters right now, because my brilliant little sparrow is as single as they come...and I’m going to be keeping you both too busy for her to change matters any.”

      Becky sucked in a breath and seemed about to say something, but she never got the chance.

      “All right. Enough of this chitchat. Let’s get down to business, shall we? You two are among the most talented creatives this business has to offer,” David said. “And I’m going to need every bit of juice you’ve got. We’ve been asked to take part in the agency search for Eden. You both know what that is?”

      Becky nodded. “The yogurt company?”

      “You got it,” David said. “They’re coming out with a new line of low-fat, all-natural Greek yogurt flavors designed to get all those pretty hipster ladies hot and bothered. Our job is to figure out how to do that. And, since their advertising budget is a quarter of a billion dollars, we damn well better nail it.”

      Becky practically bounced up and down in her chair. “Oh, I’d love to get my hands on that one,” she said.

      “Oh, those pretty little hands are going to be all over it. So are yours, Mark. Just...er...hopefully not on the same spot at the same time!” he said.

      Mark laughed uncomfortably. “No chance of that happening, sir.” At least not that David needed to know about.

      “Good. Now, the Eden people tell me they don’t want any ‘suits’ working on their account. They want something young and fresh...something none of our existing creative directors are. That means you two have the opportunity of a lifetime.”

      David got up from his chair and started to pace.

      “So here’s what we’re going to do. We’re going to break the agency into two creative teams. Becky, you’re going to head up one. Mark, you’ll be in charge of the other. Whichever one of you comes up with the winning concept and sells it to the client will win a fifty-thousand-dollar bonus—and become the youngest creative director this agency has ever had.”

      Mark blinked slowly, trying to wrap his head around this new twist. David had never said anything about a competition.

      “You’re making me compete for the creative director position?” asked Becky, her eyes sparking angrily in an otherwise pale face. “But you told me that when I came back from AdWorld the job was as good as mine!”

      “It is,” David said. “All you have to do is win the Eden account.”

      Mark watched as Becky sprang up from her chair. There was no doubt that murder was on her mind.

      “I will,” she said from between clenched teeth. Then she turned to glare at Mark. “And don’t you dare think for a second that you’ve got a shot!”

      With that, she strode from the room, controlled fury in every movement. Good thing he had no problem with beating a sexy woman at her own game, because there was no way he was losing this job.

      Turning to David, he said, “This competition’s going to be quite a challenge.”

      “I’m counting on you to win,” David said. “Don’t let me down.”

      “I won’t.”

      * * *

      Becky slammed her office door so hard the wall shook.

      “Wow.

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