Читать книгу Tall, Dark & Reckless - HEATHER MACALLISTER, Heather Macallister - Страница 10

Step three: Demonstrate kindness. The perception that a woman is a kind person is the one trait that appeals to all personality types.

“OKAY.” BT SLAPPED both hands on the tabletop. “Let’s see what we got here.”

As he bent over to reach inside the battered leather satchel resting on the floor next to his chair, both Dancie and Travis emphatically mimed keeping quiet. “Don’t say anything,” Travis mouthed at Mark and included Piper with a look. She glanced at Dancie, who had her finger to her mouth.

Okay. Got the message. Piper mimed zipping her lips.

BT tossed an old-fashioned manila folder onto the table where it skidded a few inches across the shiny surface. The tab was labeled in pencil Twins Biz.

Seriously? No state-of-the art electronic tablets or laptops for him, which was ironic, when Piper thought about it.

BT settled his glasses in place and opened the folder. The next few minutes passed in silence as he read and the twins tried to decipher his expressions. An eyebrow raised here, a head nod there, pursed lips, both eyebrows up—what a performance. As if he hadn’t already read and analyzed every word of the quarterly stats before the meeting.

Typical beta-alpha. Petty power games to make himself feel important. Piper amused herself by watching the others’ reactions. Travis, the alpha-beta, simmered with impatience, but tried to hide it in deference to his father to whom he owed respect. Otherwise, he would have made a point of showing his contempt for those who wasted his time.

People might assume, including Piper at first, that Dancie didn’t have a drop of alpha in her, but Piper suspected she might be more alpha than Travis. If Dancie wasn’t so obviously desperate for validation from her father, her alpha side would be more noticeable.

And then there was Mr. Alpha-Alpha, himself.

Mark leaned back in the chair, swiveled slightly to the side, his lips curved as though amused. He probably was. Clearly, he recognized BT’s posturing and was entertained by it, not annoyed. And that was the difference between Travis’s type and Mark’s type. Travis was irritated because he felt he had no choice but to play his father’s game. If Mark no longer wanted to play the game, he simply wouldn’t. He knew he could always find another boardroom in which to play and to hell—heck—with the consequences.

“So.” BT sat back and removed his glasses. Tapping the folder, he said, “Travis, your sister has got some impressive numbers—even better than last quarter. Which is a good thing since your numbers are even worse than last quarter.”

“Yeah.” Travis gave a little chin nod toward Dancie. “Thanks for having my back while Mark’s leg heals.”

“I wasn’t just having your back. The Women’s Guide to Living Fabulous division is one-third of the company. Our company,” Dancie emphasized. “And this year, it was the most profitable third.”

Go, Dancie! She looked great, she sounded great and the stats were on her side.

Before Dancie could bring up being named a partner, Travis made his case to BT. “Back-to-college and football season always gets us a lot of hits, and then we segue right into the Super Bowl. Another popular time. By then, Mark will be back on assignment and posting his columns. If you average the phenomenal number of hits his page got during his rescue with the last few quarters, we come out ahead.”

“The stats show a big drop-off in his page visitors,” BT said. “What is it—eighty—ninety percent?” He threw a glance Mark’s way. “How quickly they forget, eh, Mark?”

It was only as a slight color bloomed across Mark’s face that Piper realized his skin had been growing paler as the meeting progressed.

He’s in pain. She felt slightly sick knowing she’d contributed to it. She also noted that BT’s words had made Mark angry. Really angry, judging by that gritted jaw and unblinking stare. Maybe his anger would distract him from the pain in his leg.

Before Piper could figure out what had triggered Mark’s anger, Travis spoke. “His fans will come back when there’s new content. And have we ever got content, right, Mark?” He gestured for Mark to speak.

Nodding, Mark rested his forearms on the table. “There’s an ongoing dispute between brothers over oil rights on tribal lands in the Middle East and it appears the U.S. may be dealing with the wrong brother.”

He liked to use his hands to emphasize key words when he spoke. Piper guessed it was a habit from the videos he posted online.

She heard the growing intensity in his voice as he sketched out his plans for the story. He clearly loved what he did and Piper caught herself wishing she felt the same passion about her work. It wasn’t that she disliked what she was doing—she enjoyed helping people identify personality issues and quirks and how they affected them and those around them. Or as one of her corporate clients said, “You show us the hot buttons so we won’t push them.” But these days she had way more of the why-can’t-I-get-a-second-date women clients than corporate consultations.

Maybe once the online Piper Plan was established, women could figure out their man problems on their own and Piper could … could … She was unable to complete the thought. And that was her problem.

Later. She’d puzzle it out after the meeting. For now, she’d focus on that.

Mark was finishing up his pitch. “I’m going to head over to El Bahar to investigate. If my information is true, and I think it is, then this will be huge.” He sat back.

Piper believed him. How could anyone not? Negligent good looks coupled with the contained, focused intensity he’d learned speaking into webcameras equaled sincerity. People would believe anything he said. And if they were aware they were being manipulated; they wouldn’t care. Piper didn’t and she recognized it. Mark made people want to believe him. The man had charisma and an agenda, which made him dangerous.

And he was barely trying. Piper kind of wanted to see him when he was operating at full power. Maybe she’d access the OMG archives and watch a few podcasts.

“And OMG will have the exclusive,” Travis was saying.

See? Mark had even distracted Piper from her objective today and she was letting them make their case for the budget dollars without a fight.

“To get the excitement started,” Travis continued, “we’ll be promoting the heck out of Mark’s return during our Guys Annual Super Bowl Party.”

Piper nudged Dancie’s foot, alerting her that she shouldn’t let Travis control so much of the meeting.

Dancie took the hint. “To fill the gap until Travis and Mark’s numbers are up, I have a proposal to build on Piper’s dating column popularity.” She reached for the green folder. “There’s an added advantage because it opens up a new revenue stream so my division won’t be wholly dependent on ad money.”

Dancie slid the green folder toward her father. “Expanding on what I said in the quarterly report, we’ll have an interactive website with a software program called The Piper Plan to go along with the book—”

“Fluff,” BT pronounced. “You got lucky with some female fluff.” Without looking at the folder, he tossed it back at Dancie.

Fluff? BT had dismissed hundreds of hours of research as fluff? Without even looking at it? Suddenly, Mark wasn’t the only one doing a slow burn. Yeah. Nothing like having your work insulted to get the juices flowing. “Mr. Pollard, my work—”

“The matchmaking business?” He raised an eyebrow. “The one that can’t find my Dancie a man?”

Piper was not going to let him get to her. “It’s not a dating service. I counsel clients about compatibility, particularly when management teams have to decide between equally qualified job candidates. I analyze personalities. Certain types always get along and certain types always clash. And not just romantically. My theory applies to work relationships, roommates, sports teams, careers—”

“You write a dating column for us,” BT interrupted.

She wished he wouldn’t keep doing that. “I—Yes.” Piper exhaled. He just wouldn’t let that go. “But my theory is based on extensive research.”

“Your research is based on fluff.”

Travis snickered, but Travis would. And Mark’s reaction? Piper wasn’t about to look at him because appearing to care what he thought would show weakness and she was already in a battle to be taken seriously here.

“But it’s profitable fluff,” Dancie said, not helping.

“Thanks a lot,” Piper muttered.

“And we can make it more profitable.”

“Profitable until all the air goes out of it,” Travis said. “Then you’ve got nothing. That’s why I build on the standards—your beer, your football, your barbecue—so when my fluff collapses, I’ve still got a safety net.”

“Did you just call Mark fluff?” Piper asked. Probably unwisely. “Since you had to depend on your beer, your football and your barbecue this year.”

She felt Mark’s gaze laser in on her and she glanced at him. How could those blue eyes look hot and cold at the same time? She suppressed a shiver.

“Of course not.” Chuckling, Travis looked at Mark, and then quickly away. “But he gives the meat, if you will, to the OMG news division and gives us … the, uh …”

“Fluff?” Piper supplied, living dangerously. She heard Dancie’s breath hiss between her teeth.

A beat went by. “I give the Guys of Texas readers a look behind the scenes.” Mark kept his gaze fastened on her. “A lot of groundwork goes into my news stories.” His voice grew stronger. “News stories that change people’s lives. News stories that change the world.”

Implying that her work did not.

“That’s a great tagline,” Travis said in a fake hearty voice. “Isn’t that a great tagline?” He turned to his father. “We’ll have Mark at the Super Bowl with us—”

“You said he would already be overseas,” Dancie added.

“Video conferencing, Dancie.” Travis gave an impatient wave. “With hi-def, it’s almost the same as being there in person.”

“I’m glad you feel that way,” BT told him. “Because you’re going to be watching the next Super Bowl on that giant big-screen TV you’ve got downstairs.”

TRAVIS WENT STILL. “What do you mean?”

This is going to get ugly, Mark thought. Travis did love his Super Bowl parties.

BT leaned forward. “I mean that the salary for Mark’s new partner is coming out of your Super Bowl budget.”

Partner? Mark didn’t like where this was going.

“What new partner?” Travis turned to Mark. “You didn’t say anything about—”

“Thanks,” Mark said to BT. “But I don’t need a partner. I’ll be fine.”

“Good to hear. But you’re still going to be working with a partner.”

Never. “I work alone.”

BT shook his head. “Not anymore. You take too many risks, Mark.”

So he’d heard. “That’s how I get stories nobody else does. They hesitate. Hang back. Or they have to wait for authorization. I go for it.”

“Sometimes you shouldn’t.”

“Sometimes I don’t. You never hear about those times.”

“I sure did last year.” BT drew a long breath.

Here it comes. The man was entitled to a lecture, Mark supposed. BT hadn’t said a whole lot at the time Mark had been rescued. Then again, he’d been injured and, as Travis had pointed out, getting a lot of media attention. But that was last year and BT clearly wanted to assert his authority before sending Mark back into the field.

So be it. Mark would take the verbal spanking, apologize, and then they could get back to business, although he’d prefer not to have this conversation in front of Travis’s sister’s and Piper’s assessing gaze.

Mark sensed that she wasn’t impressed by him. That bothered him some and being bothered annoyed him. Usually, Mark didn’t care what strangers thought of him. Maybe it’s because you hope she won’t stay a stranger.

Where did that come from? She wasn’t his usual type and Mark would bet he wasn’t hers, either. He couldn’t imagine a reason for them to see each other again after today. He wasn’t going to seek her out. What would be the point, when he’d be half a world away in a couple of months?

“On your last assignment, you ignored State Department warnings,” BT said, starting his lecture, and Mark refocused his attention. “You ignored my direct order to break off contact with Mendoza.”

Because I do not take orders from someone who has no idea of the situation. Not too fond of orders, period. “You weren’t there. If you’d seen what I—”

“It doesn’t matter what you saw,” BT interrupted. “You were taken hostage and as far as the government was concerned, you’d ignored their warning, so it was tough luck.”

This was old ground and they didn’t need to cover it again. “Meeting with Mendoza was a risk I was willing to take,” Mark said.

BT jabbed a finger to his chest. “But I wasn’t!”

“Dad,” Travis interrupted. “He gets it. Let’s move on.”

BT silenced his son with a look. “Mark, your decision cost me hours of my life dealing with petty bureaucrats and not so petty bureaucrats. You’re only here now because Travis raised money from the Guys of Texas readers to hire mercenaries to go into those mountains and get you.”

Yeah, and the No Guy Left Behind project got a huge amount of news coverage in the process. It was a brilliant strategy that resulted in soaring ad revenue. Not only that, it had succeeded, for which Mark was grateful. “And I appreciate that.”

“We’re good, Dad,” Travis said.

“But I’m not good,” BT retorted. “I’m not good at all. Mark’s reckless—the kind of reckless I can’t afford.” Pointing at Mark, he continued, “If you had a wife or a girlfriend, we wouldn’t be having this conversation. They wouldn’t let you get away with the crazy risks you take.” He gave a short laugh and nodded toward Piper. “Maybe you should talk to this one about finding you a girlfriend.”

Mark flicked a glance her way.

“Not a matchmaker,” Piper said.

“Whatever you call yourself.” BT was insultingly dismissive.

Mark could understand why the man was angry at him, but from what Travis had told him, Piper Scott had been responsible for a nice uptick in OMG’s bottom line.

“Mark, the point is, if you had a partner to answer to, you’d think twice.”

That didn’t sound like a partner; that sounded like a babysitter. “Thinking twice is how reporters miss stories.” He shifted, deliberately softening his body language. “I chose to work at OMG because you gave me a freedom other journalists envy. In return, my reporting has enhanced OMG’s reputation—and profits.”

Mark hated playing the money card, but it always came down to money.

“And he’s ready to do it again, too.” Travis slapped the arms of his chair, mimicking one of his father’s gestures. “I say we stick with what works for him.”

“But it’s not working for me.” BT leaned forward and laced his fingers together, telegraphing that he wasn’t budging.

Hell. It had been a good run at OMG. He hated to see it end.

Out of the corner of his eye, Mark saw a movement and knew Travis’s sister and Piper had exchanged a look. They knew what was coming, too.

“Mark.” BT gazed steadily at him. “This hasn’t been the first time you’ve stepped on governmental toes. I’ve got a budget item called ‘news support services’ that’s nothing but money I use for bribes—excuse me—fines to either get you out of a mess or ensure the local authorities leave you alone. You disappear for days at a time without checking in. You change your travel plans without telling anyone. I think you’re in one country and you pop up in another. You ignore me and, frankly, without somebody riding herd on you, you’re not worth the liability, aggravation and expense.”

“Dad!” Travis looked genuinely shocked.

Mark had been worth it before and he’d be worth it again. This was all about Travis’s father showing everybody who was boss. Mark didn’t mind up to a point, but forcing a partner on him was that point. “I work alone.”

“I’ll take the responsibility, Dad,” Travis offered.

Sounded like a plan to Mark. He nodded his thanks to Travis.

BT shook his head. “You’re not part of the news division. You’d have to get up to speed on everything we’re doing and you’re overloaded now.”

“It seems as though Mark isn’t the only one who needs a partner,” Dancie said.

“I work alone.” Mark subtly shifted the emphasis.

“Make me an OMG partner and I can take some of the extra responsibilities from Travis,” Dancie offered. “I could handle Mark.”

That was the most alarming thing Mark had heard so far.

Travis slowly shook his head. “Oh, nooooo, you couldn’t.”

“There’s not going to be any extra work because I’m sending someone with him. Okay, Mark, let’s call it a producer, since you don’t work with a partner,” BT said. “A female, because I don’t want two men getting into a pissing contest. Pardon my French, ladies. But it’s gotta be a woman who can stand up to him.”

A woman? It kept getting worse. “I work alone.” Th is time the emphasis wasn’t subtle.

No one paid any attention to Mark. He wasn’t accustomed to being ignored—at least not as an adult.

But the twins were now arguing with their father. Travis was going to bat for him, and he appreciated it, but no way was he going to be handicapped by a handler. A woman? He lived pretty rough when he was in the field. And taking a woman to the Middle East would be just insane.

BT was right about one thing, though. The reason Mark wasn’t involved in a relationship was precisely because he put himself in situations no family man should.

The Pollards grew louder as the discussion became more heated. Unless BT could be talked out of his producer edict, this was a massive waste of Mark’s time and he had a one o’clock class he needed to prep for.

He looked across the table. Piper also sat silently while the Pollards hashed things out. She was mad, though, and rightly so.

Her profile was to him, so Mark took the opportunity to check her out. She wore square glasses with dark frames the way pretty women sometimes did when they wanted to be taken seriously. And she was pretty, in a church picnic kind of way, the sort of girl his grandmother would like. Sweetly pastel and prim. Too girlie for his mom, though. And to be honest, for him, as well. A life with her would mean drinking tea from china cups and taking off his shoes before he walked on the carpet. At least that’s the impression he got. Mark had no personal experience with her type. He smiled to himself. Her type avoided his type.

She must have sensed him looking at her, because she slowly turned her head and met his stare with one of her own.

Big brown eyes gazed directly at him from behind the glasses. That was no Sunday-school stare. And now that he thought about it, there hadn’t been any coyness about her the other times they’d studied each other. Mark felt a stirring of interest. There was something more here. Hidden depths. And nobody loved hidden depths more than Mark.

“Coffee?” she mouthed slowly. Her upper teeth dragged over her bottom lip drawing his attention to its plump pinkness.

Something else stirred as his interest shifted from intellectual to physical. Had she done that on purpose? If so, then she was Sunday school on the outside and Saturday-night party on the inside. Every man’s fantasy woman.

He nodded in answer to her coffee question and nudged his mug across the table. Rather than take it to the credenza, Piper reached behind her for the thermal pot. Doing so stretched her top across her chest. Nice.

Yeah, nice. Remember that. Nice girl. Okay, nice girl with some moves.

Piper leaned forward to pour the coffee and the V-neck of her top gaped enough for Mark to take in nicely rounded flesh and some lace. The coffee filled his mug in a slow stream that gave him plenty of time to stare down her top and plenty of time for her to be aware of it.

He might be in a little trouble here. He hadn’t been with a woman in way too long. Between his injury and the offlimits students, he’d had to freeze those urges. Piper Scott was definitely thawing them and at a most inconvenient time.

He forced his eyes downward a few more inches so they were focused on the coffee mug and not on Piper Scott’s surprisingly deep, lace-outlined cleavage.

The instant he saw the spout of the coffeepot tilt back, Mark grasped his mug and risked a glance upward, aiming for Piper’s eyes without traveling over her breasts. “Thanks.”

She smiled in response, and he smiled back because it would be impolite not to.

But then her smile grew and he knew she’d caught him looking down her top. She’d flashed him deliberately as repayment for their little thing earlier, before the meeting started, when they’d been sizing each other up.

Nicely played. Grinning, he dipped his head and raised his mug a fraction of an inch in acknowledgement. And then their gazes connected in one of those “hey, there could be something here” moments. Finding out could be fun. But Mark’s style was intense and temporary, no muss, and no fuss when his work ended the relationship.

Too bad Piper Scott wasn’t the type. Too bad one of the more attractive things about her was that she knew it.

The connection lasted long enough for both of them to realize nothing was going to happen between them and feel a twinge of regret—well, Mark sure did.

BT interrupted the moment by roaring, “Enough!”

Piper flinched and set the coffeepot down.

“You—” BT pointed at Mark. “I don’t care what you call her, but you’re taking somebody on assignment with you from now on. And you will consult with that somebody and if you don’t, I’ll pull your press credentials. And you—” he pointed to Piper. “If you and Dancie want OMG’s backing for your project, then show me this compatibility theory of yours works. Find Mark somebody he can get along with and who can stand up to him. That last part is very important.”

“Dad, get serious!” Travis nearly came out of his chair. “She’s a dating columnist! We’re talking about hiring somebody who’s going to be working with a world-class journalist, not finding Mark a date to the prom!” He didn’t bother to hide his scorn, which Mark could have told him was a mistake.

Sure enough, the women were eyeing Travis with narrow-eyed gazes. “The way it works is that you only send me qualified candidates,” Piper said in clipped tones. “I’ll select the most compatible ones from among those.”

Not going to happen. Mark shook his head, but Piper didn’t notice. Or if she did, she ignored him.

“And when am I supposed to find the time to do that?” Travis asked. “Since we’re not going to the Super Bowl—” he sent a resentful glance toward his father “—I have to redo everything. And that includes contacting the advertisers—”

“I can help you out, Travis,” Dancie offered sweetly.

Mark had heard enough. “Don’t bother,” he said. “For the last time, I. Work. Alone.”

“Not if you’re working at OMG,” BT told him.

Which is pretty much how Mark had expected this to play out. BT should be the one interviewing employees for the news division. He hadn’t said anything about doing so because he knew it wasn’t going to happen.

“Fair enough.” Mark pushed back from the table. “I’ll always be grateful for the opportunities OMG gave me.”

“Hang on a minute, Mark.” Panic sounded in Travis’s voice.

Mark stood, his leg screaming in protest. “Travis, it’s time for me to move on.” Past time for a pain pill, too. “Bye, all.”

Travis swiveled his chair away from the table. “Mark, wait.”

Mark pushed open the door. “I’ll call you later.” He had to get off his leg. Limping badly, he started across the foyer, knowing there was a real possibility he might not make it to his car.

“I’ve got a client meeting,” he heard behind him. “So I’m going to leave now, too.”

In an instant, Piper was beside him. “Lean on me,” she murmured beneath her breath. She held out her arm in a way that hid it from those in the conference room behind them.

He wasn’t about to argue. Bracing himself against her took some of the weight off his leg and relieved the pain.

“It stiffened up in the meeting, didn’t it?” she asked.

“Yeah,” he grunted. “Thanks.”

“Can you walk to the front door?”

Mark gave a tight nod.

“Whenever you’re ready.”

He started walking and she matched her steps to his, bless her, and as soon as they were out of sight, she insisted he lean on her fully.

Mark was relieved that she didn’t try to make conversation. If it hadn’t been for his damned leg, he would have appreciated her closeness more.

As they negotiated a couple of steps, he inhaled sharply and smelled her perfume. It was a flowery, sweet, girlie scent he wouldn’t have associated with her, especially in a business situation. But now that she was pressed up against him, he noticed the jewelry and the hair and the skirt and especially the sandals with the high heels. She looked as though she was going out on a date. Or entering a beauty pageant.

Or dressing to appeal to BT, clever girl.

So she wasn’t necessarily the church picnic type.

“Where are you parked?” she asked as he wondered about her normal style.

“Faculty lot near the Burns building.”

“Where’s your class?”

“Burns building.”

“And where are your pain meds?”

He stopped and looked down at her, but instead was visualizing the orange plastic container in his gym bag.

Piper met his gaze. “I’m guessing you either didn’t fill the prescription because you don’t like the idea, or you left them at home or some other inconvenient place.”

She had him pegged. “They’re in my locker at the physical therapy center.” Which was several miles away. He could have used the campus facilities for his rehab, but didn’t want an audience when he worked out.

“Okay, then we will get you to the Burns building for your class and you will give me the key to your locker and I will get the meds.” She wasn’t asking; she was telling, step by no-nonsense step.

Mark didn’t like being told what to do and how to do it even if he agreed. “You should go back to the meeting.”

She glanced behind her. “It’s all over but the shouting. Literally. Now give me your key and I’ll drive to the PT center and get your pain medication.”

Need and pride warred within him.

Her expression never changed and she spoke in the same nursery-school teacher tone. “You wouldn’t need them if it wasn’t for me. If you don’t give me the chance to make it right, I’ll feel awful.”

“You are so lying.” He shook his head, grinning down at her. “You didn’t even try to sell that.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” She batted her eyes.

“Your blatant attempt to let me save face. Thanks, anyway.” He looked at her a moment longer, and then grimaced. “I hurt. Help me to the Burns building, and then I’m taking you up on your offer to get my pills. When you get back, I don’t care if class has started or not. Walk right on up and hand them to me. I’ll make sure I have a bottle of water.”