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“Good for her, bringing you down a peg or two,” Loretta continued. Her gravelly voice trailed him into his office. “It’s about time you met your match.”
Cole closed the door firmly behind him. However, his secretary’s parting shot lingered. He couldn’t deny the similarities between them, but his match? Ms. Matthews had a long way to go before she possessed the capability to bring him down a peg.
Walking over to the window, he shoved his hands into his pants pockets. He stared blankly at the flashing billboard in the distance and plotted his next move.
* * *
“I can’t believe you walked out on Cole Sinclair.”
Sage rose from her chair, braced her palms on her desktop and leaned forward. Had Amelia lost her mind? “Did you not hear a word I just said? The man threatened to come after Stiletto.”
“Well...” Her assistant hedged, tilting her head to one side.
“Well, what?” Sage snapped. She fisted her hands on her hips waiting to hear what possible explanation the young woman could conjure up to justify the man’s insufferable behavior.
“You did tell him to ‘bring it,’” Amelia said. “And knowing you as I do, I’m sure it was more like a barked command.”
“Me?” Sage asked incredulously. Her knuckles dug deeper into her sides. “All I did was show up for a lunch meeting, which I should add, you wouldn’t give me a moment’s peace about until I agreed to go.”
Her assistant held her hands up. “Hold on, General,” she said. “I certainly didn’t mean for you to march downtown and purposely provoke him.”
Sage plopped down in her office chair and crossed her arms over her chest. “He was the one provoking me.”
“You aren’t one of the richest people in town.”
“Please, don’t mention money.” Sage rolled her eyes toward the beams and pipes stretching across the ceiling of the former factory that housed Stiletto’s headquarters as well as several other businesses. “He was tossing out dollars like a freak in a strip club.”
Amelia laughed and then stopped abruptly. She narrowed her eyes. “So exactly how much was his offer to buy Stiletto?”
“That would fall under the category of none of your business.”
“How about a ballpark figure?” The teen shrugged. “You turned him down anyway. What difference does it make?”
Sage thought it over a moment. It wasn’t as if Amelia would spread it around the office. She could be a loopy romantic, but she was as discreet as she was efficient.
“Let’s just say it was a couple of ballparks.”
“And you didn’t take the deal?”
“Of course, not. Stiletto isn’t for sale,” Sage said. “And you weren’t there. He was condescending and...” Her voice trailed off as the sound of his easy baritone came back to her. Deep, rich and melodic. It made her want him to eat dessert in bed with him, naked.
“And what?” Amelia raised a brow.
“H-he was just so smug,” Sage stammered over the words.
A slow smile spread over her assistant’s lips. “And what else?”
“O-overbearing, insufferable, overconfident...” Again, her reaction to him at lunch waylaid her train of thought, and she automatically rubbed the spot where their hands had accidentally brushed.
“Interesting.” The young woman’s eyes widened as if she’d just been told a secret, and the smile on her face morphed into a full-fledged grin. “He sounds an awful lot like someone else I know.”
“What are you grinning at?” Sage snapped. “Stop it.”
Instead, Amelia narrowed her gaze. She made a few hmm and mmm sounds as she looked her up and down.
Sage squirmed uncomfortably in her chair. “What on earth is the matter with you?”
The young woman ignored the question, continuing her examination. “Cheeks flushed. Eyes glazed over. You’re practically glowing,” she said, making Sage feel as though she was in a doctor’s office instead of her own. “And notice how you were all breathless and stammering when you talked about Mr. Sinclair.”
Amelia nodded her head knowingly as if she already had the answer to her own question. “Not in a million years did I think I’d be saying this to you, but you look exactly like a smitten heroine in one of my romance novels.”
Although she was immune to them, Sage gave her assistant a laser-beam side eye. “I’m acting insulted and extremely annoyed...because I am.”
However, Sage didn’t know who she was more pissed at, the man with the bedroom voice who believed he could run her business better than she, or herself for even having considered a date with him.
“If you say so.”
“I do say so,” Sage insisted, remembering his last words to her and the excessive confidence with which he’d delivered them.
I intend to bring it all right. I just hope you can handle it.
His declaration had come off as a double entendre. She’d caught both the all-business challenge and the sensual promise. Sage only wished there was a way for her to show him he’d taunted the wrong woman and wipe the smug smile off his handsome face.
Oblivious, Amelia exhaled a dreamy sigh filled with youthful naïveté. “I think Mr. Sinclair made quite the impression on you.”
Sage’s stomach growled, reminding her she still hadn’t had lunch. “He made me so mad, I didn’t even eat...”
The words died on her lips as an idea hit her.
Not just an idea, a maneuver so outrageous it would make Cole Sinclair think twice about underestimating her again. But you couldn’t, she thought. You wouldn’t dare go through with it.
Oh, yes, I would.
Her assistant waved a hand in front of her face, and Sage blinked. “You haven’t heard a word I’ve said. I was trying to tell you...” Amelia paused, then frowned. “Uh-oh. What’s going on in that head of yours?”
Sage feigned cluelessness. “Whatever do you mean?”
“It looks like you just sprouted devil horns on your head. The only thing missing is the diabolical laugh.”
Her decision made, Sage slapped her palms against her desk and stood. Time to rally the troops. “I want you to add fifty additional beauty bloggers to the invitation list for our Valentine’s Day’s event,” she said. “We’re going to make it even bigger and even better.”
“Will do.”
She watched her assistant make the notation. “Then send Joe Archer from advertising into my office. I’ve got a job for him,” Sage said. “I’m about to teach Mr. Sinclair a lesson he won’t soon forget.”
Amelia shook her head. “Sounds like you’ve already made him angry. I really don’t think you should provoke him any further.”
“Never mind what you think. Just get Archer in here.”
Her assistant heaved an exaggerated sigh. “All right, I’ll do as you ordered, General. I just hope you don’t start the battle of the Nashville cosmetic companies.”
So what if she did? Sage thought. The man had made it clear he intended to bring it. She was simply firing the first salvo, because the best defense was a good offense.
Her only regret was that she wouldn’t be there to see the look on Sinclair’s face.
Chapter 5 (#ulink_d2ded2d3-a955-5cdb-a052-9cb637e0950a)
A week after their disastrous lunch, Sage Matthews remained on Cole’s mind. His thoughts bounced from those sexy, shapely legs to that sassy mouth of hers painted the hottest shade of red he’d ever seen.
“Mr. Sinclair?”
Cole blinked, the sound of his name dragging him back to reality. Damn, he’d done it again.
And again, he told himself he was only pondering his next step to persuade the woman to sell her business.
“Sorry, could you repeat that?” Cole glanced around the coffee-and croissant-laden conference-room table where Espresso’s department heads had gathered that morning for their biweekly meeting. His uncharacteristic distracted behavior drew a quizzical stare from Victor and a smug, know-it-all one from Loretta, who had been needling him all week about Stiletto’s owner rejecting his offer.
He looked past them to the company’s special events coordinator.
Tammy Barnes adjusted her eyeglasses. “I was saying it appears the Valentine’s Day minimakeover event at our department store counters will have some competition, at least locally,” she said. “Stiletto Cosmetics is holding an event the same afternoon.”
Preston Tate’s buttons strained to keep his shirt closed as he hurriedly washed down his third croissant with a gulp of coffee. “So we anticipate a lower-than-expected turnout,” Tate, who was the head of their marketing team, chimed in. “It’ll also mean generating less buzz nationwide, when the bloggers take to social media with comments and photos all about Stiletto.”
As Cole listened, he wondered if this event was Sage’s idea of getting back at him. She’d been furious when she’d stormed out of the restaurant. Moreover, the woman had practically challenged him. Just like you did to her.
Seated at his right, Loretta glanced down at her tablet computer. She’d balked when he’d upgraded every Espresso employee to the latest technology upon his return. Now the tablet rarely left her hands.
“Next on the agenda is Lola,” she said.
A collective groan echoed across the room at the mention of Cole’s youngest sister, and a young man seated at the opposite end of the conference table cleared his throat. “A few days ago, she and some of her model friends held a wild party in London and totally trashed their hotel suite. Now the European tabloids are having a field day. I think we need to...”
“Nonsense.” Victor cut him off. “You can’t believe anything the media reports anyway.”
“But they had photos, and considering Lola is the face of Espresso, it reflects badly on the company,” the young man countered.
“Brat,” Loretta grunted.
“Watch your mouths. That’s my baby girl you’re talking about,” Victor warned. “Those damn tabloids are making a big deal out of nothing. End of story. Case closed.”
The faces around the table turned to Cole, knowing he was the one with the final word on any subject concerning the company. “I agree with Victor,” he said. “Lola’s just high-spirited.”
“Enabler.” Loretta snorted.
Cole held up a silencing hand and then turned his attention back to their marketing head. “Tate, I want to hear more about this event of Stiletto’s.”
“I’ll just bet you do,” Loretta muttered under her breath.
Cole shot his secretary a censorious glare, which earned him another gravelly snort. If she were anyone else, she would have been looking for a new job.
“It’s a meet and greet for social media beauty gurus,” Preston said. “Light refreshments, swag bags, et cetera.”
Cole tapped his fingertip against the table. “Do you happen to know if this was something they pulled together in the past week?”
“I don’t think so.” Preston shrugged. “Looks like they posted it on their website a month ago.”
Cole nodded absently. He was just being paranoid, he reasoned. Sage might be bold. The name of her lip color crossed his mind. However, she wasn’t badass enough to take him on...or was she?
A thump vibrated the conference table, jolting him out of his reverie.
“Dang it!” Victor stood abruptly, drawing concerned stares from the room. He stomped his foot. “Leg fell asleep.”
The older man shook his leg. He walked over to the wall of windows, on the other side of the room to coax life back into his sluggish limb. Located two floors below Cole’s office, the floor-to-ceiling windows offered the same panoramic view, but at a lower vantage point.
“Funny you should ask about last week, though.” Preston swiped at his tablet. “It looks as though they expanded the event a week ago and reached out to more bloggers and YouTube vloggers.”
Maybe he wasn’t being paranoid after all, Cole thought. Was this Sage’s way of taking him on? He dismissed the idea. The challenge she’d issued had simply been an angry rant. Nothing more.
Tammy raised her hand to get their attention before clearing her throat. “Does anyone know when Tia will be back? I need to talk to her about including the spas in an upcoming event.”
Cole shrugged. His sister and brother-in-law, Ethan, hadn’t had time for a honeymoon after their quickie Las Vegas nuptials six months ago. Last month they’d flown to Australia, where it was still summer, for an extended road-trip honeymoon.
“She gets back to Nashville on Valentine’s Day but won’t return to work until the week after,” Loretta answered.
Tammy nodded. “Thank...”
“Holy Moley!” Victor bellowed from the other side of the room.
Again, his outburst attracted the attention of the department heads seated at the table.
“For goodness’ sake,” Loretta said. “The entire room doesn’t have to be privy to your circulation problems. I’m no spring chicken, but you don’t hear me squawking about every little twinge.”
“It’s not me. It’s...” Victor turned away from the window. He wore a stunned expression on his face. “Cole, I think you should take a look at this.”
Concerned, Cole rushed to her stepfather’s side. The older man pointed out the window, and Cole looked in the direction of his finger.
“What the...?” Cole blinked.
He stared dumbfounded at the electronic billboard in the distance, unable to believe what he was seeing. The gasps of the employees who had followed him to the window filled Cole’s ears.
No, the hell she didn’t.
The ad for Burger Tower’s mouthwatering burger was gone. In its place was an advertisement for Stiletto Cosmetics, featuring the man in drag from the newspaper article photo. Even though it was a mile away, the ad flashed boldly against the gray winter sky.
The faux old lady wore the same lopsided gray wig, a hideous paisley dress and a thick coating of outdated makeup. He was juxtaposed against a chic young woman in skintight leather pants and high heels.
Cole’s molars ground against each other as he glared at the caption—Stiletto: Not Your Granny’s Makeup. It was scrawled across the bottom of the ad, in the same shade of red as Sage’s lipstick, as if she’d signed it personally.
The blasted woman knew he’d see it. He’d told her he could see this billboard from his office window.
