This perfume campaign was crucial. I couldn’t afford to mess up. Making sure Garcia was happy with our performance would help us get one step nearer to closing the deal with the other whale in the cosmetics industry: Wilbur Monk. The billionaire owner had been flirting with us for eighteen months about taking over their advertising work for half a dozen of his subsidiary companies. The contract would be worth nine figures. It would lift us out of shark-infested waters and see us through the next few years. I needed that contract-badly.
Which meant I needed the distraction of a woman with red-painted lips and ebony hair like a hole in the head. But she was gone now. Away from this building and away from me. I wouldn’t have to worry about feeling her weight in my arms again or having any more of my shirts ruined with bleeding gashes caused by stray shards of glass.
That was a good thing. Everything would be okay.
After a deep breath, I felt calmer.
A chime sounded. Cole checked his phone and let out a soft grunt. “Monk confirmed he’s attending the children’s hospital fundraiser next week.”
I groaned, and Cole laughed.
“Guess I have to go now,” I said, grimacing as I jiggled my mouse to wake my computer up. I checked my calendar, only to see that my assistant, Clara, had already scheduled the event in. I scanned the screen and saw more events-dinners, galas, garden parties-sprinkled into every available slot. Monk would be at most of them, and winning his business would mean my attendance would be mandatory.
Sometimes I really hated my job.
“Got a plus-one?” Cole asked with a broad grin.
I gave him a dark look. “You know I haven’t.”
Cole hummed. “Monk won’t like that.”
“What I do in my personal life has nothing to do with him. We’ll win the contract because we’re the best advertising agency in the city. Not because I have a hot date to every social event he attends with his wife.”
Cole put his palms up, backing off. “Fine. I was just saying.”
Gritting my teeth, I glared at the calendar. The worst of it was, Cole was right. Wilbur Monk had just celebrated his fiftieth wedding anniversary. His wife was his muse and had been since before he’d started working in cosmetics. He credited Roseanne with all his success.
Being single was a mark against me, and I knew it.
“I’m not bringing a plus-one,” I repeated in the silence of my office, a little petulantly. “I can’t do a relationship, and a revolving door of casual dates to all these events we’ve got coming up will play worse than if I went alone.”
“Heard,” Cole replied, but his eyes were on me. “Although…”
I narrowed my eyes. “Although what?”
“I heard through the grapevine that your being on your own is one of the main hang-ups he has about signing on with us.”
“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.”
“He thinks you’re untrustworthy.”
“Because I’m not married?” I clenched my fists. “I’ve built this company-this empire
-and not having a ring on my finger hasn’t stopped me once.”
“Monk is old school, Jared. We’ve known this since we first pitched him.”
A deep sigh left my lips. One of the things that made Cole so valuable as a COO wasn’t just his attention to detail and his ability to know exactly what was happening in every corner of the company, it was the fact that he could read people like an open book. Once, I’d watched him conduct an interview and walk out of the room saying that we could hire the candidate, but we’d regret it. The candidate had been perfect on paper for our accounts department and had interviewed beautifully. Cole hadn’t been able to explain his intuition, but he was certain we were making the wrong choice. That employee ended up trying to steal from us within a year and had to be let go. Despite the warning, the employee’s attempted theft had blindsided me.
If Cole told me that Wilbur Monk wouldn’t hire me if went to these social events on my own, I had to believe him. Pinching the bridge of my nose, I racked my brain to think of something.
“I could call Heather.”
“Heather is married to European royalty.”
My head snapped up. “What? Since when?”
“A year or so ago.”
“A year…” I did a bit of mental math, then leaned back in my chair. “It’s been four years since I had a girlfriend. That’s longer than I thought.”
“Girlfriend is a little generous for what you and Heather had, don’t you think?”
At the look I gave him, Cole began to laugh. The worst of it was, he was right. But how could I have a girlfriend when I’d learned a long time ago that when you needed people, they abandoned you? I hated being reliant on anyone. I hated feeling like they could pull the rug out from under me. I hated being vulnerable.
So most of the time, I was alone. Just the way I liked it.
Cole slipped his phone into his pocket as he stood, then said, “What if you hired someone?”
“What, like an escort?” I arched my brows. “That’ll go over well with the most famous monogamist in the city.”
“Not an escort,” Cole mused, his eyes on the city skyline. “A…companion.”
“A companion,” I deadpanned. “What does that even mean?”
“She would be hired and paid to accompany you to social events as needed.”
“And the minute anyone caught wind of it, my reputation would be trashed.”
“We’d get her to sign an NDA.”
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.