backed out of his office and closed the door behind her, then leaned against it. There had been at least three occasions in there when she’d wanted to dive across that massive desk of his and kiss him till his expression brightened. That would have been about as smart as nose-diving off the top of the Washington Monument.
Now she was expected to spend yet another evening with Richard, pretending to be something more than a freelance marketing consultant, and at the end of the evening she was expected to go home—alone—and keep the man out of her dreams. If this kept up, she was going to have to talk to him about hazardous-duty pay. She could not see one single way that this was going to have anything other than a very unhappy ending.
Melanie sifted through the pile of résumés, making notes on those she felt to be the strongest candidates for running Richard’s campaign. She also jotted on sticky notes and put them on each folder for those she considered wrong for the job. She wasn’t sure how much Richard intended to rely on her opinion or whether this was some sort of test he’d devised to see if they were on the same wavelength, but she intended to give him a thoughtful, intelligent response on each applicant.
One or two were so inexperienced they were laughable, but most fell into the middle range, with adequate experience, bright ideas and ambition. There were three whose applications stood out. She put those folders on top, then rubbed her knotted shoulders. She’d been sitting too long. She’d skipped lunch, because she was so determined to do this assignment thoroughly and intelligently. She wanted badly to prove to Richard that he hadn’t made a mistake in hiring her as a consultant, even if his motives for doing so had nothing at all to do with her qualifications for the job.
Becky poked her head into Melanie’s office. “Safe to come in?” she asked.
“Sure.”
Becky came in and sat down. “Tell me again why you’re going through all those résumés.”
“Richard asked for my input.”
“So you immediately dropped everything to handle that?”
“I didn’t drop everything,” Melanie said defensively. “I rescheduled a couple of appointments. No big deal. It happens all the time.”
“Something tells me it’s going to be happening a lot more often now,” Becky said.
“If it does, it’s only because Richard will be paying us big bucks.”
“To dance to his tune,” Becky said. “I don’t like it. Neither will all the people who’ve been paying us regularly for months or even years. They may be little fish, but they’re our little fish.”
“I’m not going to neglect them,” Melanie vowed, then studied Becky’s skeptical expression. “What’s really going on, Becky? I thought you understood how important it was for us to nab this account.”
“I don’t like to see you jumping through hoops for this man. You’re too good for that.”
“It’s not for some man,” Melanie said. “It’s for a client.”
“Then the whole charade for his aunt’s benefit is off?”
“Not exactly,” she admitted.
“Figured as much,” Becky said grimly. “And you don’t see how risky that is? You’re not the least bit attracted to him? This isn’t at all personal?”
Melanie bit back the quick and easy lie that had formed. “Okay, maybe it is a little bit personal,” she admitted. “A part of me does want to impress the daylights out of him. But it’s not going to get out of hand.”
Becky rolled her eyes. “It’s been one day, sweetie, and in my humble opinion, it is already veering wildly out of control.”
“Wildly?” Melanie scoffed. “I canceled a couple of appointments and spent a few hours reading these files. Come on, Becky, that’s not unreasonable when we take on a new client.”
“If you say so.”
“I do.” Before she could say more, her private line rang. Melanie picked it up. “Hello.”
“Ms. Hart?” an unfamiliar female voice asked.
“Yes.”
“This is Winifred, Mr. Carlton’s secretary. He asked me to tell you that he has to cancel the three-o’clock meeting, but he’ll still pick you up at seven-thirty this evening.”
“I see,” Melanie said, avoiding Becky’s gaze. “Thanks for calling.”
When she hung up, Becky gave her a knowing look. “Meeting’s off?”
Melanie nodded, feeling exactly like the idiot Becky so clearly thought she was.
“I notice you didn’t jot down another time. Did he reschedule?”
“No. Maybe he intends to go over it tonight.”
“Tonight?”
Melanie winced at Becky’s incredulous tone. “I guess I forgot to mention the fund-raiser we’re going to.”
Her friend merely shook her head. “Yes, I’m sure he’ll want you to share all your notes with him, while he’s shaking hands with all the movers and shakers who’ll be there.”
“We’ll have time on the drive over,” Melanie said with waning confidence. “Or after.”
Becky gave her a pointed look. “Mel, how far are you prepared to go to keep this stupid account?”
Melanie was stunned by her friend’s implication. “What are you suggesting?”
“I’m suggesting that you’re about to walk a very fine line here and, frankly, given that sparkle you get in your eye whenever Richard’s name is mentioned, I’m not sure you won’t tumble headfirst across it.”
“That’s an awful thing to say,” Melanie said, genuinely hurt that Becky’s opinion of her was so low.
“It’s an awful thing to think,” Becky said. “You’re my dearest friend and I love you to pieces, but I’m absolutely terrified that you’re about to do something you’ll regret.”
“Are you worried for me or for the business?” Melanie asked cynically.
“You, of course,” Becky said without hesitation. “Though I have to think that your professional reputation could suffer, too, if people perceive that you’re literally in bed with one of your major accounts.”
“I am not sleeping with Richard,” Melanie retorted.
“Yet,” Becky said, not backing down.
“I’ve made it clear that I won’t sleep with him,” she insisted.
Becky sighed. “We’re in a funny business, Mel. We spend a whole lot of time helping people to create a public perception. We’re best at it when perception and reality are the same. We’re both too honest to do a very good job of spinning the truth.”
“In other words, if people suspect I’m sleeping with Richard, it won’t matter if I’m not,” Melanie said, defeated by what was obvious even to her.
“Bingo.”
“How the hell did I get myself mixed up in this mess?” she asked a little plaintively, even though she knew the answer all too well. She’d caved to Destiny’s sneakiness and Richard’s insistence.
“That one’s easy,” Becky told her. “You wanted to do a favor for a friend.” She grinned. “How were you supposed to know you’d fall head over heels in lust at first sight?”
“I’m not in love with Richard,” Melanie said emphatically.
Becky’s grin spread. “I said l-u-s-t,” she corrected. “But I find it very interesting that that’s not