Читать книгу Boardroom Seduction - Anita Bunkley - Страница 12

Over the next hour, Kacey and Leon discussed each design in detail and shared thoughts on the execution of the various styles. They collaborated on pattern adjustments that would simplify production and keep costs down. However, it became clear right away that even though they shared the common goal of turning out a dynamite product at the best possible price, Leon was much more relaxed about the time frame than Kacey was.

“When will the first samples be ready?” she wanted to know.

“Depends,” he casually replied.

“On what?”

“On how fast Bob Truett can get to your project.”

“Bob Truett?” Kacey questioned.

“Our master patternmaker. He’s the person who really holds the power around here,” Leon chuckled. “He’s the best, though. Been with the company for years.”

“You know I want to move this along as quickly as possible, don’t you?” Kacey reminded Leon, not wanting to waste a second.

“We don’t rush things around here. We move at the best pace to get the job done right, on schedule and to the customer’s satisfaction.”

“I’m sure you do, but I can’t stick around Rockport forever.”

“Don’t be in such a rush. Relax. The workroom is pretty busy right now, but Truett knows your contract is a quick turnaround job,” he assured Kacey, examining a page from the folder that contained the production schedule for SunKissed. “If all goes well, we should have your samples completed within a few days. However, I don’t like to ask my employees to work overtime unless it’s absolutely necessary.”

Kacey simply watched Leon and held back from speaking while he scanned the document in silence. When he glanced up, he hooked Kacey with his magnetic gray eyes once again, creating an electric connection that made Kacey’s heart turn over. Gulping back her unsettling reaction, she stilled, determined not to expose the stir of emotions cascading through her body.

“But you will ask for overtime if you have to, right?” she finally asked.

“Let’s just see how things go,” was all Leon offered.

“All right,” Kacey conceded, hoping he would not be reluctant to push his employees hard to get the job done in record time. But that was his call to make, not hers, so she’d just have to trust him to do what he felt was best.

As he continued to explain the process, Kacey’s eyes settled on Leon’s full, well-formed lips, unable to keep from fantasizing about the warm, yummy taste she knew they would leave on her tongue. The idea of kissing Leon Archer made her nipples go hard in her bra and the core of her womanhood tense up. Such an intensely sexual arousal, prompted by a man she did not know, was like a lightning strike on a sunny day—completely out of the blue, but not impossible. In fact, getting excited over a man she did not know was exactly what she’d been yearning to feel for a very long time.

Kacey’s personal life hummed along in an easy, uncomplicated way that she’d come to consider as normal. She didn’t have a special man in her life, but she did have Jamal, the guy she turned to whenever she needed someone to rescue her from long spells of sexual abstinence. Kacey trusted and loved Jamal as a true friend, even though he wished she could love him like a man.

Jamal. Thinking of him made Kacey almost sigh. They’d known each other for eight years, and as much as she tried to shift her feelings for the devilishly handsome real estate investor into full romantic mode, it never quite happened. So, she’d settled on remaining good friends with occasional benefits, a perfect arrangement for Kacey, despite Jamal’s desire for more.

When Leon cleared his throat with a fist to his mouth, as if aware of how distracted Kacey had become, she snapped to attention. Taking in his bemused expression, she tossed her crazy imaginings aside, placing fingertips to her chin to feel grounded in the moment.

“Ready to discuss the schedule?” Leon started, lifting one eyebrow while gracing her with a look as intimate as a kiss, which only served to rev her pulse a notch higher.

He’s as caught up as I am, Kacey observed, exchanging a slow smile with him. “Sure,” she replied, squeezing her legs together in an attempt to banish the itch that was definitely in need of scratching. Leaning forward in her chair, she focused her attention on the papers spread out on Leon’s desk, avoiding his eyes completely.

“First, let’s talk about your fabric,” he stated.

“What do you think about the choices?” she asked Leon, her voice now crisply professional and efficient.

“Very nice. We have everything in stock except the imported Naughty Net, but we ought to find it soon.”

“Perfect,” Kacey commented. “And I’d like to come in at least five percent under budget,” she told him, plunging back to earth with a definite crash, determined to make good on her promise to Hadley.

“Five percent? I dunno,” Leon hedged. “You have eight different styles, and each one requires a lot of decorative detail. The cost of your raw materials eats up more than one-third of your budget,” Leon warned with a tone of authority. “You might want to consider eliminating some of the expensive bling if you want to cut costs.”

His candid assessment quickly dissolved Kacey’s dreamy reaction to him. He sounded way too confident that she would be willing to go along with whatever he decided. Well, she had news for Leon Archer. His flirtatious overtures weren’t going to distract her from holding firm on her designs. She knew her swimsuits contained the flashy touches that made them stand out from all the other swimwear currently available, and she had no plans to change that.

Certainly, this guy didn’t expect her to drop the metallic gold rings on her bikini tops, did he? Or omit the polished Italian stone side clasps on the bottoms? Or trash the bronze beading on halter ties shot through with strands of gold and silver thread?

No, she could never eliminate her trademark sparkle or dull the shine that she adored.

“I have to disagree with your assessment,” she told Leon firmly, after taking her time considering his point. “The accessory trim is what makes my styles, along with the custom cuts and imported fabrics. Unique accessorizing is key.”

“I understand. But that’s where the financial wiggle room is,” Leon advised.

Kacey inclined her head in agreement, thinking about the financial bonus that Hadley had promised if she reduced production costs. Somehow, she had to prove to Hadley that she could get the job done, and done at his price.

“I understand where you’re coming from, Leon,” she finally agreed. “However, we’ll have to cut costs someplace else.”

Leon simply lifted his palms toward the ceiling as if at a loss to suggest an alternative.

“The estimates for labor per unit and packaging look good,” Kacey said, searching for a way to make it all work.

“Oh, yes. Those are static costs that remain as is. No wiggle room there,” Leon confirmed.

“Okaaay…so, if accessory trim is the wild card,” Kacey restated, turning her thoughts to ways of saving money without sacrificing style, “I have an idea.”

“Let’s hear it,” Leon prompted.

Kacey sank back in her chair, fingers tented at her lips, knowing she would have to adjust costs somewhere if she wanted that bonus money. Leaning forward, she launched her suggestion. “What if, instead of eliminating the more expensive trim, we simply reduce the quantity?”

“You know, that was going to be my next suggestion,” Leon replied, appearing excited by her approach. He flipped through Kacey’s portfolio and tapped a page with his finger. “Like the Lucite squares on this Retro Hipster style. The halter top has Lucite squares on the ends of the ties, and two smaller pieces at the bustline. Maybe if we use one larger piece, you’d get the same effect and spend less on trim.”

Kacey made a subtle nod, knowing his solution made sense. Eliminating one piece of Lucite detail wouldn’t detract from the overall look, and if this was what she had to do to make this line happen, she was willing to give it a try.

“Okay,” she agreed with Leon, her earlier irritation beginning to ease. “I’ll review each style and see where I can make similar adjustments.”

“Great,” Leon replied, pausing to review the last page of the production schedule before he spoke again. “Once you’ve done that, I’ll revise the manufacturing estimate and email it to you so that you can send it over to Hadley for his approval.”

“Fantastic,” Kacey replied, ready to tackle the numbers, and pleased that Leon was onboard. The more energy he focused on her swimsuit line, the more quickly she’d be able to return to New York, even though her earlier determination to get out of Rockport as fast as she could didn’t seem quite so pressing anymore.

“One thing I guess you’ve learned about me,” Leon said after their revision session wound down. “I’m committed one hundred percent to making sure you are happy.”

“What more could I ask for?” Kacey replied, buzzed by the sense of partnership that was rapidly developing between them. On this project, which was so special for Kacey, working with a talented African-American man who had the power, the insight and the creative drive to deliver on her vision was a drastic, and wonderful, development.

While doing promotional work for Leeman’s, her vision and taste had been challenged many times. How ever, to stay on track and not become distracted by exaggerated promises from suppliers and vendors, she’d adopted a three-point approach that worked for her: Always be clear and upfront about her expectations, never sacrifice quality for quantity and steer clear of obvious over-the-top trends with limited appeal. Now she had to add one more point to her list: Never fantasize about making love with the manufacturer!

Finished with their meeting, Leon stood and motioned for Kacey to come with him. “I’ve set up a workspace for you to use while you’re here. It’s not very big, I’m afraid,” he said, leading her down the hall to a small cubicle not far from his office. It was private, quiet and had a phone, a computer and a drafting table. All the equipment she needed to do her job.

Kacey followed him into the space, very aware of his closeness, his scent and especially the silent electricity crackling in the air. His presence sucked her in, tingled her imagination and made her want to do things she hadn’t thought of before. Like make the first move and kiss the hell out of this guy who was pushing her most intimate buttons.

“And you do have a window,” Leon offered with a wave of one hand, moving to open the blinds and reveal a clear view of the parking lot.

Kacey moved toward the window, her shoulder brushing Leon’s as she stepped past him, certain she’d felt him tense when their bodies touched. “That’s the road that leads to the Coast, isn’t it?” she asked, recognizing the highway that she’d taken on her way to Rockport.

“Right. If you hang a left out of the parking lot and go four miles, you’ll hit Aransas Bay.” He moved up behind her, so near that his breath warmed her neck and sent delightful shivers down Kacey’s spine. “I live out that way, too. On the beach.”

“You do?” she commented, turning around, her face stopping only inches from his, so near their lips could have easily met. And held. In a long, delicious kiss. The subtle sensuousness that shimmered between them was like an invisible thread, drawing them together. Neither took a backward step, yet a message of caution flashed into Kacey’s brain, warning her to move—steer clear of temptation and concentrate on something other than his arresting grin, which was rattling her composure and provoking a ruffle of a smile on her lips. “Must be nice, living near the water,” she said, her voice breathy and low. She enunciated her words slowly, as if carefully calibrating her reply to lead him into more personal revelations.

“It is nice,” he agreed. “It’s quiet out on the beach. Very private. I live alone, so it’s a welcome escape from all the noise and hectic hours I put in here at the factory.”

He lives alone, Kacey quickly registered, certain he’d deliberately dropped that nugget of private information to disarm any resistance she might have had about entering into a more intimate level of conversation. Deciding to play the game she knew he’d started, she lobbed the comeback she hoped he was expecting. “I hear you. My job at Leeman’s can get pretty crazy, too, so going home to a quiet place…with no one around, is heaven.”

“Do you live in Manhattan?” Leon quickly probed.

“No, in Harlem. But I’m planning on moving into the city when I return.”

“I’ll bet it’s expensive, living in New York. Any roommates?”

“No, just me.”

“So you like big-city life?”

“I love it. Born and raised in Harlem. Wouldn’t give up New York for anything.”

“Well, it’s all about how you want to live your life,” he replied laughingly, now stepping back to put more space between them. “Small town Texas is where I come from and Rockport has always been home. It’s really a great place to live and work.”

“Especially if you’re an Archer, I’ll bet,” Kacey finished with a chuckle.

“Oh, yeah,” he sheepishly acknowledged. “Guess you got me there.”

With a duck of her head Kacey stepped even further away from Leon and put both of her hands on the back of the stool in front of her drafting table. Holding on to it, she watched Leon carefully, her heart racing in her chest. If he didn’t leave soon, she knew she might embarrass herself by revealing more than she should, or asking too many questions. But she wasn’t going to be in Rockport for long, and time would fly by. Would there be enough time to get to know Leon Archer better? And why did she feel so compelled to get answers to the questions that were crowding her mind?

“Think I’d better get busy on those revisions,” she told him, slipping onto the stool. She picked up a pencil and pointed it at him. “I’ll let you know when I’m finished.”

“Good idea. Just push the red button on your phone and that’ll buzz me in my office. When you’re ready, I’d like to show you around the plant.”

“Will do,” Kacey replied. As she watched Leon leave her cubicle, she couldn’t resist a shake of her head. Whew! That man was yanking all her chains and she didn’t plan to stop him.