face and as she’d practiced a thousand times said, “Bruce, I want the CEG account.”
She braced for his reaction—confusion, derision, belly laughter. Instead, Bruce removed his glasses and set them aside. “The CEG account. Well, I have to admit, Gabrielle, this is a surprise…but a welcome one.”
A short rap on the door sounded, followed by Dell Kingston walking in. “Good morning, Bruce.”
Gabrielle set her jaw at the intrusion.
“Morning, Dell. Ms. Flannery and I were just talking about the CEG account.”
She caught the flash of panic in Dell’s eyes before it was replaced by cool confidence. “Oh, good. Because I was thinking that Gabby should be given the official title of assistant on the account.”
Bruce pursed his mouth. “You do?”
“Absolutely,” Dell said magnanimously.
“Gabrielle thinks that she should be given full responsibility of CEG.”
Dell emitted a good-natured laugh that stiffened her spine. “No offense, but I don’t think that Gabby’s ready to take on a client as high-maintenance as CEG.”
“You mean as important?” Gabrielle said, crossing her arms.
Dell conceded with a nod, splaying his hands wide.
Under Dell’s penetrating gaze, a hot flush began climbing her neck. For a few seconds, her mind whirled in desperation as the familiar speechlessness threatened to overtake her. With great effort, she dragged her gaze away from Dell’s and back to the smiling face that had watched television with her and chased a tennis ball around the apartment.
“I’ve devoted six years to this firm,” she said, her voice steady. “I’ve worked with some of the most obscure, unusual and difficult products in our lineup, and the clients have always been pleased.”
Bruce nodded in agreement, and it was all she could do not to pet his head.
“I want this account,” she added, lifting her chin. “I know the products inside and out. I designed the advertising literature and wrote most of the copy. I suggested and managed the overhaul of the online store.”
Dell scoffed. “Desk work is one thing, Bruce, but you know the people at CEG—they’re outdoorsmen, and so am I. When I’m not here, I’m mountain biking, hiking, climbing, rappelling, you name it. I live this stuff.”
Bruce looked to Gabrielle, seemingly waiting for more ammunition.
She swallowed hard. “I’ve worn out the stairs in my apartment building, personally testing CEG backpacks and hiking boots. And for the past three months I’ve slept in one of their tents pitched in the living room of my apartment.”
Both sets of male eyebrows shot up at her pronouncement, then Bruce’s phone rang. He glanced at the console. “Excuse me for a minute, I need to take this call.”
Gabrielle turned and reached for the door, but Dell beat her there and held it open for her. She glared at him, then walked through. Out in the hall, the tension between them was palpable. She tried to tamp down her nervousness, telling herself that she had presented her case well. Bruce hadn’t laughed at her, hadn’t dismissed her, hadn’t reminded her that last week he and everyone else had seen her tighty-whitey underwear.
Then Dell’s soft laugh caught her attention. He looked conciliatory. “Gabby, come on, you don’t really expect Bruce to give you CEG. Why don’t you just stick to the feminine hygiene products and leave CEG to someone who can handle it?”
In that instant, her heart shriveled. She realized that all the times Dell had been flirtatiously teasing her, inside he’d been laughing at her clumsiness and labeling her as incompetent. He truly didn’t think she was capable of competing on his level. If he knew how she’d fallen for him over those fleeting shared moments, he’d have an even bigger laugh at her expense.
She felt like a fool. Her wounded pride threatened to disable her, but she hardened her jaw and spoke through clenched teeth. “My name is Gabrielle. And no matter what Bruce decides, please don’t patronize me, Dell.”
Something unrecognizable flared in his eyes—hostility? Resentment?
Bruce’s door suddenly swung open and he beckoned them both inside. Gabrielle preceded Dell, her body stiff, and wondered if she’d be able to back up the statements rolling out of her mouth, which seemed to have a mind of its own this morning.
That darn magazine article had blown her up with false bravado. If Bruce gave the account to Dell and asked her to assist, she’d be stuck working with Dell under rather tense circumstances.
Bruce Noble leaned against the front of his desk, his arms folded. “I just got off the phone with Eddie Fosser at CEG. He also wants to know who’ll be taking over the account. I told him my dilemma.” He gestured toward Dell. “On one hand I have a senior account executive who would fit nicely into the CEG corporate environment.”
Dell smiled, and Gabrielle seethed. “Fit in,” meaning a testosterone-laden male.
Then Bruce gestured to her. “On the other hand I have a junior account executive who is familiar with the client’s products and might have been, er—” he coughed “—inadvertently overlooked for past opportunities.”
Gabrielle smiled—maybe Bruce was going to do the right thing after all.
“So Eddie and I were talking, and he suggested something that might give you both a chance to prove yourselves.”
She and Dell exchanged a puzzled glance, and she felt some measure of relief that apparently he didn’t know what their boss had in mind.
“CEG is sponsoring a wilderness survival trip this weekend in the Georgia mountains with their celebrity spokesman. Eddie will be there with some other CEG execs, and a couple of their big customers. It’s a good-natured competition to showcase their products, with each player accumulating points. Eddie suggested that both of you attend and…whichever one of you scores the highest will get the account.”
A vacuum of silence pulled at her ears.
“This is based on athletic ability?” Dell asked, shooting an amused smile in her direction.
“Well, certainly athleticism will help,” Bruce said, “but it’s more like a test of wills…and logic. And it’ll give you a chance to interact with Eddie and his people.” Bruce clapped his hands together. “I think it’s a great idea. It’s on the Amicalola Falls State Park property. You’d leave Thursday and return Monday. What do you say?”
Gabrielle felt like an animal trapped in a searchlight…in a tree…having sex…upside down. Compete with Dell in a wilderness survival weekend? There must be thousands of ways for him to humiliate her in the woods.
“I think it’s a great idea, too,” Dell said, then turned to Gabrielle, his eyes alight with predetermined victory, his mouth barely able to contain a grin. “But if you’re not up to it, Gabrielle, then just say so and we’ll go back to the original arrangement—I’ll take the lead on the account, and you’ll be my assistant.”
She swallowed hard, her mind racing over the advice in the “Adrenaline Rush” article.
Then Dell lowered his head and leaned slightly toward her. “Come on, Gabby,” he whispered in a taunting voice for her ears only. “I dare you.”
At his challenging words, an unfamiliar strength swelled in her chest—at least she hoped it was strength, and not a reaction to the fact that for the first time, Dell would have to deal with her as a rival, a competitor, a peer.
The article had described moments like this—when a person’s life choices, past and future, seemed to converge into one decision that had to be made on gut instinct and self-trust.
She looked Dell Kingston square in his dreamy eyes and, after almost faltering