Книга - The Love Game

The Love Game
Regina Hart


His game. Her rules.Tyler Anderson is poised to take over the reins of his family-owned computer gaming company. But first he has to launch his latest invention. That means teaming up with self-made marketing consultant Iris Beharie, whose brash confidence and sizzling beauty are throwing the reserved computer designer off his game.Landing the plum Anderson Adventures account could save Iris's fledgling PR firm and prove to her skeptical siblings that she has what it takes to succeed. Too bad Tyler doesn't play well with others…except when he and Iris are alone. As the gorgeous gaming genius sheds his introverted image in the bedroom, things are heating up in the boardroom in the cutthroat fight for CEO. Amid distrust and treachery, is Ty ready to gamble everything on a love that's as real as it gets?







His game. Her rules.

Tyler Anderson is poised to take over the reins of his family-owned computer gaming company. But first he has to launch his latest invention. That means teaming up with self-made marketing consultant Iris Beharie, whose brash confidence and sizzling beauty are throwing the reserved computer designer off his game.

Landing the plum Anderson Adventures account could save Iris’s fledgling PR firm and prove to her skeptical siblings that she has what it takes to succeed. Too bad Tyler doesn’t play well with others...except when he and Iris are alone. As the gorgeous gaming genius sheds his introverted image in the bedroom, things are heating up in the boardroom in the cutthroat fight for CEO. Amid distrust and treachery, is Ty ready to gamble everything on a love that’s as real as it gets?


“Congratulations again.” Iris unbuckled her seat belt, preparing to climb from his car. “I’ll see you Monday.”

“It’s been a month.” Tyler’s ebony eyes held her in place. “Do you ever even think about it?”

Her eyes widened. “The kiss?”

Tyler’s gaze lowered briefly to her breasts before returning to her eyes. “It was more than a kiss.”

An electric current arced between them. She couldn’t be the only one who felt it. It was a very different type of tension from the one that had filled the car that morning.

“Yes, I’ve thought about it.” I’ve thought about that night and the way you made me feel more than I should.

“Right now, I really wish I wasn’t your client.” Tyler glared at her garage door through the windshield.

“But you are.”

“Why does that mean that I can’t touch you? Or taste you?” he added.

Iris fought the sensual assault of his words. “I don’t have personal relationships with clients.”

Tyler gave her a heated look. “Is that all I am to you, a client?”

Iris arched an eyebrow. “Am I more than a vendor to you?”

Tyler captured her left hand and held it to his chest under his jacket. “A vendor’s never made me feel like this.”


Dear Reader (#ulink_a04a01be-e216-53f1-8946-4f6fdbb0d5ac),

Several Christmases ago, my husband gifted me with The Supremes’ Greatest Hits CD. I love The Supremes, don’t you? Listening to their songs over and over—and over—that Christmas, I heard three distinct heroines: one who’s open to love (“I Hear a Symphony”), one who’s jaded (“Nothing but Heartaches”) and one who’s too busy for love (“Stoned Love”). At least that’s my interpretation. For years, I’ve wanted to tell their stories. Today, I can finally introduce you to the Beharie sisters.

In The Love Game, Iris is looking for love. However, she doesn’t realize love comes in its own time, which isn’t always convenient. In fact, it’s often complicated. I hope you enjoy Iris and Tyler. Meanwhile, I’m having fun writing Rose’s story. Rose has given up on love—but love won’t give up on Rose.

Enjoy!

Regina


The Love Game

Regina Hart






www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


REGINA HART is the contemporary romance pseudonym of award-winning author Patricia Sargeant. Her various pastimes and hobbies include sports—both college and pros—movies, music and, of course, reading. She loves chatting with readers. Contact her at BooksbyPatricia@yahoo.com. You can also friend her on Facebook as Patricia Sargeant / Regina Hart.


To my dream team:

My sister, Bernadette, for giving me the dream

My husband, Michael, for supporting the dream

My brother Richard for believing in the dream

My brother Gideon for encouraging the dream

And to Mom and Dad always with love.


Acknowledgments (#ulink_30c14977-dcdb-5283-8b0e-88a5dcf045f0)

Many thanks to Chris T., network analyst, for his help with the technology details. I apologize for any misinterpretations I may have made.




Contents


Cover (#u34c307c0-4f00-516d-971c-dbc9943a98e0)

Back Cover Text (#uaad5140e-5b4a-5ae7-a603-2739b4a12559)

Introduction (#u434763ec-9bc8-505e-bc52-f3d5bf3fe746)

Dear Reader (#ua3fbea57-6a52-5d9a-8692-361980055112)

Title Page (#uc0831637-c06a-54e5-9bd7-019b80047908)

About the Author (#u3685eb59-594d-52dd-b185-c0432c8af894)

Dedication (#u2ab60f5d-8b5f-5b73-93e3-c78e6a159978)

Acknowledgments (#u5a61a116-7fe8-5cd6-bf02-f95646de91ce)

Chapter 1 (#u79b3e8c3-d38e-5342-b98a-4a781f5b517b)

Chapter 2 (#u2520b3f6-1abe-523a-94bb-da6637baacea)

Chapter 3 (#u448a2ff1-4139-5530-85be-36124ec89398)

Chapter 4 (#ue05993bc-8ef7-5c8e-b56d-4f599e3d159b)

Chapter 5 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 6 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 7 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 8 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 9 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 10 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 11 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 12 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 13 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 14 (#litres_trial_promo)

Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)


Chapter 1 (#ulink_75b36877-944b-57e9-9add-9ef87a1fa9f9)

“You’re not ready to take charge.”

Tyler Anderson had heard those words from his father before. In the past, he’d been disappointed and hurt. But this time, Foster Anderson’s certainty that Tyler wasn’t ready to lead their family-owned computer gaming company fired him up.

“I disagree.” He locked gazes with his father, who was also his boss.

“All right.” Foster settled back on his chair. A spark of interest brightened the ebony eyes Tyler had inherited. “Convince me.”

“I’ve worked at Anderson Adventures for more than twenty years, since I was fifteen.” Tyler straightened, laying out his case with confidence. “I’ve been around these offices, watching and learning what everyone does since I was eight. I know this company from the bottom up.”

“That’s true.” Foster nodded. “You know the company’s operations.”

“I’ve shadowed key people in every department—finance, sales, human resources, information technology, customer service.”

His father was aware of the finance classes Tyler had taken. But no one could see the numbers as clearly as his cousin, Xavier Anderson, the company’s vice president of finance. Foster also knew Tyler had made sales calls with Donovan Carroll, his college classmate and Anderson Adventures’ vice president of sales.

“I don’t dispute that you know this company almost as well as I do.” Foster balanced his elbows on the arms of his black leather chair, locking his fingers together in front of his pale gray shirt. “Son, you know how proud I’ve always been of your interest in the company. But Anderson Adventures is more than its departments.”

“As vice president of product development, I’m aware of that.” Tyler leaned forward as he rushed to reassure his father. “I’ve designed several of our most successful games.”

“You’ve designed all of them. You have a keen imagination, as well as great creative talent and programming skills. You’ve built a very fine product-development department.”

“Then why don’t you think I’m ready to lead the company?” Tyler’s head was spinning. What am I missing?

Foster’s sigh came from deep inside. “I’ve explained this to you before. Anderson Adventures is more than the computer games we develop. I don’t question that you know enough about the operation to run the business. What I question is whether you have the people skills to lead the company.”

Foster rose from his chair and strolled to the window, sliding his hands into the front pockets of his slate-gray suit pants. Tyler’s father was a tall, lean, charismatic figure. Despite his quiet demeanor, people knew when he entered a room. Foster’s sepia-brown chiseled face was smooth and clean shaven. His tight curls were still dark brown with barely a hint of gray. Physically fit, Foster exercised at least five days a week. Tyler often jogged with him on the weekends and was sore by Monday morning, just as he was today.

“I don’t understand.” Tyler stared at his father, trying to read the older man’s mind. “If you think I can run the business, why don’t you think I can lead the company?”

Foster turned from his fifth-floor view of downtown Columbus, Ohio. It was the first Monday of March. Still, the threat of snow hung heavy in the clouds. “Did you know Jonas in accounting has a son who earned his master’s from Clemson University last semester?”

“No, I didn’t.”

“The company sent his son a gift card as a graduation present.”

“That’s nice.” But what does it have to do with my running the company? “Last month, Trudy in purchasing became a grandmother for the third time. Her daughter delivered a healthy baby boy.”

“That’s wonderful.” Why are you telling me this?

“The company sent flowers to her daughter’s hospital room.” Foster cocked his head. “You didn’t know that, either, did you?”

“No, I didn’t.” And your point is...?

Foster crossed back to his desk, past the row of photos on his wall. Here, images of holiday potlucks, birthday festivities, engagement parties and baby showers memorialized Anderson Adventures’ celebrations. His father settled back onto his chair. “When was the last time you spoke to your coworkers, other than Xavier and Donovan?”

Does saying hello when I pass people in the hallway, cafeteria or restroom count? Probably not.

“I...” Tyler’s gaze shifted to the family photos lining the credenza behind his father’s desk. There was one of him and his father with Tyler’s mother, taken the last year of her life.

“You know the business side of Anderson Adventures but you don’t know its people.” Foster took a drink of coffee from the World’s Greatest Dad mug Tyler had given him when he was nine years old. “And the fact is, it’s the people behind the company who’ve made it a success.”

“I know.”

Foster gave him a dubious look. “You need to work harder to show it, son.”

“I will.”

“Good, because I’ve decided to retire at the end of this year.”

“What?” Shock and apprehension sent a chill through Tyler’s nervous system. “Why?”

Foster chuckled. “I’m sixty-eight years old, Ty. This company has consumed more than half of my life. It’s been fun, exciting, frustrating and challenging. Now I’m tired. It’s time for me to move aside and let younger people—you, Xavier and Donovan—take the reins.”

Now Tyler was apprehensive for another reason. “Xavier and Van aren’t interested in running the company. They’ve said as much.”

“I know. But your taking over as CEO is not guaranteed, son.” Foster leveled a look at him.

“If not me, then who?”

“I’d have to go outside of the company.” Foster’s eyes were troubled.

Silence crashed into his father’s office. Tyler took a moment to pull his thoughts together. “Anderson Adventures is a family-owned company. You’d hire an outsider to lead it?”

“I don’t want to but I will if I have to.”

Tyler rubbed his eyes with his thumb and two fingers. “Dad, I’ve got to tell you, I’m not happy with the idea of a stranger taking over our company. Xavier and Van won’t be, either.”

“Then don’t let it happen.” Foster brooked no argument. “Step away from your computer. Prove you can run this business and lead its people.”

“How am I supposed to do that?” Frustration tightened the muscles in Tyler’s neck and shoulders even as he strained to keep it from his voice.

“We’re releasing your latest computer game in July.”

“Right.” Tyler nodded. “‘Osiris’s Journey.’ We’re dropping it simultaneously online and through brick-and-mortar stores the weekend after Independence Day.”

“You’re going to hire a marketing consultant and be the point person for our product launch. You’ll have to work with our accountants to manage the budget, our sales team to come up with the list of key accounts, and our IT team for testing and talking points.”

“I’m vice president of a department.” Tyler struggled to mask his horror. “I can’t tie up my time on a product launch.” Not to mention the fact he didn’t want to interact with that many people.

“Learn to delegate.” Foster lifted a business card from his desk. “And I want you to interview The Beharie Agency.”

“I’ve never heard of them.” Tyler took the card from his father.

“It’s an up-and-coming firm. I know the family and I have it on good authority that the agency is creative, professional and customer focused.”

“I’ll give them a call.” Tyler rose to leave.

“I want you to succeed, son.” Foster’s words stopped him. “But if you don’t have loyalty from the people in the company, the company won’t succeed.”

Tyler nodded, then exited his father’s office. He felt the weight of Foster’s words—as well as incredible pressure. He had less than four months to gain the loyalty of Anderson Adventures’ seventy employees—not including himself, and his father, aunt, cousin and college classmate.

What if I fail?

Then the forty-three-year-old company founded by his father and uncle would be turned over to a stranger. He couldn’t let that happen.

Tyler glanced at the business card in his hand: Iris Beharie, President, The Beharie Agency.

Can you help me with the most important product launch of my life?

* * *

Tuesday morning, Iris Beharie pushed through the glass doors leading to the fifth-floor reception area of Anderson Adventures. She scanned the room, half expecting to be pounced on by a television crew, telling her she’d been punked. How would a multimillion-dollar company know about her little firm and why would they invite her to submit a bid for their product launch? If they didn’t have their own in-house marketing and public relations department, then surely they had a much larger marketing consultant company on retainer.

The friendly woman at the modern and modular front reception desk who’d buzzed her in regarded her with a curious smile. “Good morning. May I help you?”

Iris surreptitiously wiped her sweaty palm on the skirt of her cream business suit. She stepped forward. “Good morning. I’m Iris Beharie. I have a nine o’clock appointment with Tyler Anderson.”

With her pretty, wholesome looks; neat, blond bob; and twinkling, cornflower-blue eyes, the receptionist reminded Iris of an older Doris Day. Her nameplate read Sherry Parks.

“Just a moment.” Sherry picked up the telephone receiver and selected a few buttons. “Ty, Iris Beharie is here to see you.” Pause. “All right.” She stood as she replaced the phone, then gestured toward the crimson leather guest chairs beside her desk. “He’ll be with you in a few minutes. Please make yourself comfortable. May I take your coat?”

“Thank you.” Iris handed over her periwinkle wool coat. She kept her briefcase with her.

Sherry walked to a section of the cherrywood wall and slid it open to reveal a closet. The receptionist hung Iris’s coat, then slid the door closed again. “Would you like some coffee?”

“I’d love some, if it isn’t any trouble.”

Sherry waved a dismissive hand. “It’s no trouble at all. Cream and sugar?”

“Just cream. Thank you.”

Sherry’s brisk pace carried her past other administrative desks and into a back room.

Iris turned toward the crimson guest chairs. The two-inch heels of her cream pumps were silent on the thick silver-and-black carpet. Despite its cool glass-and-metal decor, the reception area gave the impression of warmth and welcome. It also was well-maintained. Her eyes skimmed the covers of the industry magazines neatly spread across the tempered glass Caravan desk in the far corner.

The walls showcased their most successful games, as well as candid metal-framed photos of employees smiling or laughing into the camera. Iris found herself smiling back. Some of the photos had been taken decades earlier, judging by the hair and clothing of the people in the pictures, including a much younger Sherry Parks.

Were Anderson Adventures employees really that happy? Perhaps if she’d worked for a company like this one, she wouldn’t have left her job to start her own firm on a leap of faith.

“I’m sorry I took so long.” Sherry reappeared with what looked to be a twenty-ounce mug of coffee.

“Not at all. I appreciate your trouble.” Iris took the hot drink from the receptionist. “This is one big mug.”

“The Andersons love their coffee. And they assume everyone else does, too.” Sherry returned to her desk.

The fondness in the woman’s voice implied a positive employee morale. A good sign.

Iris settled onto one of the guest chairs. “That’s a lot of pressure on whoever makes the coffee.”

“Whoever gets here first makes it. That’s usually Foster, Tyler, Xavier or Donovan.” Sherry settled onto her chair, pulling it under the desk. “After that, whoever pours the last cup makes the next pot.”

Very egalitarian. It was a credit to these high-powered executives that they didn’t wait for the staff to make the coffee. And the fact that Tyler Anderson—the vice president of product development—regularly arrived at work early enough to make the first pot explained how he could have responded so early Monday morning to the proposal she’d submitted Sunday night.

Iris took a sip. “This is delicious. Who made it?”

“If it’s good, it wasn’t Van. Everyone complains his coffee tastes like antifreeze. He says, if they don’t like it, they should get in earlier.” Sherry paused as they both laughed. “But the coffee goes pretty quickly. It’s nine o’clock. That’s probably the third pot.”

Iris’s eyes widened. “You weren’t kidding about their coffee addiction.”

“Sorry to keep you waiting.” A strong baritone resonated throughout Iris’s nervous system. “Ty Anderson.”

Iris looked up—way up—to the tall, dark, handsome man who’d stopped in front of her. This was the vice president of product development? She was definitely being played. The only way a desk jockey would look like Idris Elba was if he came from central casting.

His features were silver-screen perfect. His high forehead and bright ebony eyes indicated a keen intelligence that one shouldn’t underestimate. His squared jaw signaled a stubbornness that would be a challenge. His full, well-shaped lips implied a subtle sensuality she shouldn’t even think about.

Iris stood, taking his large, outstretched hand. His warm skin sent a shock up her arm. “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Anderson. I’m Iris Beharie.”

“Ty. This way, please.” He stepped aside, releasing her hand to gesture in the direction from which he’d come. “Sherry, thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Ty.” The Doris Day double gave him a fond look.

Iris settled the strap of her black briefcase onto her left shoulder and hoisted the mammoth coffee mug with her right hand. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Sherry lifted her hands, crossing her fingers. “Good luck.”

Iris tossed Sherry a grateful smile before following Tyler down the hall. His broad shoulders were wrapped in a white jersey. His long legs were covered in chocolate suit pants. She jerked her gaze from his butt and looked around the office suite. Tyler stopped beside a frosted glass door and waved her inside. She glimpsed his name and title on the silver frame beside the threshold.

“Have a seat.” He closed his door, then waited for Iris to claim a chair at the small glass conversation table.

“Thank you.” Her palms were sweating again.

His office was big, bright and painfully neat. Project folders were staggered in a metal filing system on his silver-and-glass L-shaped desk. His black leather chair was tucked under his table. One of the twenty-ounce silver-and-black coffee mugs stood beside his computer mouse.

Her office would drive him nuts.

Tyler also seemed obsessed with time. His large desk calendar was covered with notes. Dates were crossed off the wall calendar opposite his desk. Project timelines were pinned to a board behind his chair.

Frightening.

Iris noted his minifridge, microwave and radio. Was he preparing for a lockdown?

Tyler came around to join her at the conversation table. Rather than watch him fold his long, lean body onto the smoke-gray padded seat opposite her, Iris distracted herself by pulling a writing tablet and pen from her briefcase.

“Your proposal is impressive.” Tyler tapped the electronic tablet in front of him.

“Thank you.” So far, so good.

“I’ve also reviewed your firm’s website. The two seem to be in contradiction.”

“How so?” Iris gripped her ballpoint pen as she forced herself to hold Tyler’s penetrating gaze. She really wanted this account.

“You’re a one-person show. How can one person accomplish all the things you’ve promised in your proposal?”

“I understand your concern.” She’d heard it before from other executives. “However, I assure you I wouldn’t have made those commitments if I wasn’t confident I’d be able to meet them.”

“How?”

Iris glanced at the tablet trapped between the table and the long, elegant fingers of Tyler’s right hand. “As I explained in my proposal, this isn’t my first product launch. I know what’s involved. That experience will make me more efficient with your project.”

“You also mentioned other consultants you plan to work with.” Tyler leaned back on his seat.

“Their costs are included in the budget.”

“You, a designer, a printer and a media buyer. That’s a lot of people to depend on to meet deadlines.”

Iris put down her pen, then rested one hand on top of the other. “That’s a legitimate concern. But, Mr. Anderson—”

“Ty. Mr. Anderson is my father.”

“Ty.” Iris inclined her head with a smile. “Even if you worked with a larger company, you’d still need those various roles. The only difference between my firm and a larger company is that those responsibilities would be assigned to their staff. But you’d still have to depend on a lot of people meeting their deadlines.”

Tyler’s mind wandered as he watched Iris’s full, bow-shaped lips. It was only when her lips stopped moving that he realized he should have been listening.

He tamped down his embarrassment—and his urge to trace a finger over her lips. “That’s a lot of people to keep track of during the project. We don’t have a lot of time.”

“This launch does have an ambitious schedule. This is the second week of March and your release date is July tenth.”

“That’s just over four months.” Tyler scowled. Why haven’t I heard from Peter Kimball about his company’s proposal?

“Seventeen weeks and three days. It’s a tight schedule, but not impossible.” Iris spread her small, delicate hands. The movement briefly distracted Tyler.

“You’ve worked with tough deadlines before?”

Iris sat back and crossed her legs. “Many times and always successfully.”

Her voice was matter-of-fact, her manner confident. Her proposal was impressive in its detail and vision. Still, Tyler hesitated.

This was a big job. Iris Beharie had more than eight years of marketing and public relations experience. However, the results of his internet research indicated The Beharie Agency was only three months old. How could he entrust his launch of his company’s new computer game to what amounted to an untried agency?

How could he trust her with his future?

Tyler hardened his heart to her honey-brown skin although it looked as soft as silk. He pulled his gaze from warm, coffee eyes that threatened to brainwash him. Her subtle citrus fragrance would haunt his dreams tonight.

He picked up his tablet and stared blankly at her proposal. Just say no, thank her for coming and call Peter Kimball—for the fifth time. “Your proposal is good.”

“You read my website.” Her voice was strained. “You saw the list of other projects I’ve completed.”

“You were with another company when you did that work.” Tyler was snared by her gaze again.

“I don’t have a large company behind me, but I do have an experienced and talented network of professional associates with whom I’ve worked before.”

Tyler dragged his finger across the tablet’s screen to flip through Iris’s proposal again. He’d practically committed it to memory: pricing, tasks, goals, detailed launch schedule. Could she pull it off? There was too much at stake to take the risk.

He lowered the tablet. “I’ll consider what we’ve discussed, then call you with my decision.”

Iris gave him a rueful smile. “Let’s be honest, Ty. You’re not going to hire me, are you?”

Tyler hesitated but he couldn’t bring himself to lie. “No, I’m afraid not. I’m sorry.”

“So am I.” Iris sighed. She repacked her pen and notepad before standing.

Tyler stood with her. “Your proposal was really very good. In fact, it was great.”

“But you don’t have confidence in my execution.” Her words were blunt but her tone wasn’t accusatory.

“There’s a lot riding on this product launch.” Now that their meeting was over, Tyler didn’t want her to leave.

“Every launch is important.” She adjusted her briefcase strap on her slender shoulder, then offered him her hand. “Good luck with your launch.”

“Thanks.” Tyler took her hand, surprised by her gesture. Why wasn’t she being snide or sarcastic like other companies usually were when he turned down their proposal? “Good luck with your company.”

“Thank you.” Iris led him to his office door.

Their conversation was scarce as they walked down the hallway: the weather, traffic and the hard winter they’d just had.

They stopped beside Sherry’s desk. Tyler offered Iris his hand again, one last time to feel her soft, warm skin against his. “Thanks again for meeting with me.”

“Thank you for the opportunity.” Her smile wasn’t as bright as it had been when they’d first met but it was sincere. She slipped her hand from Tyler’s, then turned to Sherry. “It was nice to meet you, Sherry.”

The receptionist smiled up at her. “Same here, dear. Have a good day.”

“You do the same.” Iris pushed through the glass doors of the office suite, then disappeared down the hall to the elevator.

Tyler sensed Sherry’s eyes on him as he returned to his office. He was certain he’d made the right decision regarding The Beharie Agency. Then why was he having second thoughts? Was it because of the undeniable strength of Iris’s proposal?

Or her full bow-shaped lips?

He tried to push thoughts of Iris from his mind as he settled behind his desk to call Kimball & Associates—again. He needed to partner with an established consultant, one they’d worked with before and on whom he could depend to produce a winning launch.

Even if it meant saying no to the opportunity to spend more time in the company of Iris Beharie.


Chapter 2 (#ulink_2cc9ca7e-4403-52dd-8df6-400e134ae973)

“I need a big account to land a big account or for someone to give me a chance.”

Iris trailed her friend Cathy Yee through the buffet line during the monthly Marketing Professionals Association luncheon Tuesday afternoon. The group had taken over a banquet room in one of the downtown restaurants. Well-dressed marketing professionals on an extended lunch break packed the dim walnut-wood room. Circular tables covered in white cloths faced the speaker’s podium. Serving stations lined the far walls of the cramped space.

Iris considered the menu items: potato or chicken-noodle soup, green or pasta salad, turkey or veggie wrap, coffee or water, chocolate chip cookie or fudge brownie. She skipped the salads, and stuck to the meat selections, coffee and both dessert choices.

“I know. I was there once.” Cathy, a freelance designer who’d been flying solo for almost ten years, passed on the soups, but chose both salads, both wraps, coffee, two fudge brownies and a cookie.

Iris considered her friend’s waiflike, five-foot-two-inch frame clothed in a black pantsuit with onyx accessories. Where would all that food go?

“I was so disappointed not to get that contract with Anderson Adventures.” Iris balanced her lunch plate and bowl in one hand, and her coffee cup in another. “It’s as though the three months I’ve spent in my own business has completely wiped out my eight years of experience.”

Iris frowned as her friend led her to a table toward the back of the banquet room. Cathy usually preferred to sit front and center. Maybe she wasn’t as interested in this afternoon’s social media topic.

“They make you prove yourself all over again.” Cathy’s voice held more than a touch of irritation.

“Exactly.” Iris laid her plate, soup bowl and coffee cup on the empty table Cathy had claimed. The benefits of arriving early.

She and Cathy had met during one of these lunches years ago. They’d become fast friends. Then when Iris had confided in Cathy about the problems she was dealing with at work, Cathy had encouraged her to strike out on her own. The two partnered on many of their projects. Iris’s writing skills allowed Cathy to expand her client services and Cathy provided design work for Iris’s contracts.

“It’s a good thing you didn’t tell your sisters about the interview.” Cathy’s jaw-length curtain of raven hair swung forward as she pulled her chair under the table.

That would’ve been bad. “I wanted to land the account before I said anything to them.” Iris added cream to her coffee. “Now I don’t have to explain that my potential client thinks all of my experience leaked out of my brain when I opened my own firm.”

“It would’ve just given them more ammunition to push you back into working for someone else.”

Iris hummed her agreement as she sipped her coffee. “So what’s on your mind?”

“What do you mean?” Cathy sounded distracted. Another sign something was bothering her friend.

Iris pointed her fork toward Cathy’s plate. “You’ve piled enough carbs and processed sugar on your plate to put you in a coma. Are you still thinking of returning to the wonderful world of corporate dysfunction?”

Cathy blew a frustrated breath. “The economic recovery is slow and my bills are high. Everything’s gone up.”

“I understand but just give it a while longer, Cat. Don’t give up on your business yet,” Iris encouraged her friend, thinking she should take her own advice.

“It’s not just the economy.” Cathy’s words sped up as her annoyance kicked in. “Clients don’t want to pay what we’re worth. They think since their son has a Mac, why should they pay you to design a brochure when he can do it for free? Or their daughter can spell so why should they pay a professional copywriter?”

“The insane asylum where I used to work had started squeezing vendors that way.”

“And what’s worse is that these kids, fresh out of college and in many cases untrained, accept this pocket change as their wages instead of researching the industry pay standard.” Cathy’s voice tightened. “It’s insulting.”

Iris frowned at her turkey wrap. “Yes, it is. Have you considered your sister’s suggestion that you apply to be an adjunct graphic arts professor with her university? It could supplement your business income.”

“I’m considering it.” Cathy huffed another breath. “I’m not getting any younger, Iris. I’ve got to—”

“Afternoon, ladies. Mind if we join you?” The male voice interrupted their conversation.

Iris’s heart sank at Peter Kimball’s request that he and his associate sit at their table. She gritted a smile and lied through her teeth. “Not at all.”

The seasoned marketing professional and owner of Kimball & Associates sat beside her. His young sidekick, a man Iris didn’t recognize, took the chair to Peter’s left.

Iris sucked in her breath as Peter extended his hand across her chest to Cathy.

“Pete Kimball.” The marketing executive gave the designer a toothy smile that didn’t reach his pale blue eyes.

“We’ve met. Cathy Yee.” Her friend barely acknowledged him before returning to her veggie wrap.

Peter withdrew his hand, smoothing it over his salt-and-pepper, salon-styled hair. “Oh, yes. You look different. So, Iris, how have you been?”

“Fine, thank you.” The waves of irritation Cathy generated distracted Iris.

“I heard you left RGB.” Peter dug into his pasta salad.

“Yes, four months ago.” She toyed with her chicken-noodle soup.

“I’ve always admired your talent. I’m sure I can find a place for you on my team.”

“Thank you but I’m not looking.” Iris suppressed a shudder as she took in his smarmy smile. She considered his deep, golden skin. Was he using a tanning bed? Perhaps that tint came from a can.

Iris glanced at Peter’s associate. The young man was methodically making his way across his plate.

“What are you doing, then?” Peter’s smile faded as his gaze sharpened.

“I’ve opened my own marketing and public relations consulting firm, The Beharie Agency.”

“Really?” Laughter burst from Peter’s throat. “Starting your own business is a lot of hard work. You don’t have the exp—”

“I’m ready for more coffee.” Cathy nudged her. “Want some?”

Iris looked at her still full cup. “Yes.”

She joined Cathy, leaving the table without excusing herself.

“What a jackass,” Cathy hissed. “He introduces himself to me every time he comes to this thing. How many Chinese women does he know in Columbus, Ohio, that he can’t remember me?”

“Consider the source.” Iris was offended on her friend’s behalf. Peter’s laughing in her face when she announced she’d started her own firm didn’t seem so bad in comparison. “I can’t go back to that table with him.”

“We’ll find another table.”

“But I left my lunch at that one.” And she was starting to get hungry.

“Fix yourself another plate.” Cathy led them back to the buffet line. “Now we have even more incentive to succeed. You know what they say.”

“Living well is the best revenge.”

Iris looked forward to proving to Kimball & Associates, as well as Anderson Adventures, that they’d underestimated her. She just needed a chance.

* * *

Wednesday was a long day that included participating in a client conference call and drafting another project proposal, which Iris hoped to submit by the end of the week. But tonight she set those thoughts aside as she pulled her canary-yellow Camry into the driveway of her family home. She parked beside her sister Rose’s cobalt-blue BMW. Iris was a few minutes early for their weekly family dinner. But as usual, her older sister was already here.

Their dinner was a family tradition Iris and her sisters had continued even after their parents had died. Lily, the middle sister, had moved back into the large suburban home.

Iris grabbed the cake box from the passenger seat. Juggling the box and her purse, she slammed the driver’s-side door shut with a hip and pressed the automatic lock button on her key chain. She hurried up the walkway and stairs, then let herself in through the front door.

“Something smells wonderful.” Iris followed the scent of seasoned chicken and vegetables down the hallway and into the kitchen.

Rose and Lily stopped talking when she appeared in the doorway. Paranoid much?

“You brought dessert.” Lily broke the short silence.

“Chocolate cake.” Iris sauntered into the kitchen and put the box on the counter beside the stove. She turned to her sisters with her hands on the hips of her powder-blue jeans. “Okay. Let’s have it.”

“Let’s not.” Lily continued stirring the pot of chicken stew. Her curvy five-foot-three-inch frame was clothed in faded blue jeans and a bright orange sweatshirt featuring the logo of the Cincinnati’s NFL team. Her dark brown hair was a riot of curls that fell past her shoulders.

“Why not?” Rose crossed her arms over her bloodred sweater. With her sleek dark brown hair swinging above her narrow shoulders and her honey-brown features subtly made up, Iris’s thirty-four-year-old sister looked more like a runway model than an attorney.

“Because I’ve gone to a lot of trouble to cook this dinner and I don’t want it ruined with an argument.” Lily’s attention remained on her stew.

Iris arched a brow at Rose. “Does it have to be an argument?”

Lily answered. “No, it doesn’t. But lately the two of you can’t even agree on the weather.”

“That’s not a recent development.” Iris’s tone was dry. “Rose and I have never agreed on anything, especially since she thinks she knows everything.”

“Here we go.” Lily shook her head as she turned off the burner under the stew.

Rose uncrossed her arms and straightened from the counter. The two-inch heels of her black boots added to her five-foot-eight-inch height. “Maybe if you stopped to consider my advice instead of ignoring it to charge full-speed ahead, you’d realize that sometimes I do know what I’m talking about.”

“And I know what I’m doing.” Iris dropped her arms. “Why can’t you accept that?”

“You think you know what you’re doing but I’m not so sure.” Rose’s expression was heavy on the irritation but tempered with concern. “Why did you leave a perfectly good job with a stable company to start a business during a horrible economic climate?”

Cupboards opened and shut as Lily began serving dinner.

Iris arched a brow. “Because it was obvious I wasn’t going to advance there.”

“At least you had a steady income.” Rose threw up her arms. “You could pay your bills. You had health insurance, life insurance, a retirement account and sick days. You won’t be able to stay home when you’re sick now.”

“I rarely used my sick days when I had them.”

“Here.” Lily forced a soup bowl into Rose’s hands, then crossed back to the counter.

“But at least you had them.” Rose remained focused on Iris.

“That’s fine for you to say.” Iris gestured toward her sister. “People at your company respect you and your experience.”

“You have to pay your dues, Iris.”

“Pay my dues?” Her head was going to pop off her neck. “I’d been with RGB for six years. Meanwhile, new employees were coming in without my experience and leapfrogging over me up the corporate ladder, getting more money and more seniority, while I was doing all the work.”

“So you bit off your nose to spite your face.”

“What are you talking about?” Is Rose even hearing me?

“Rather than stay and fight, you jeopardized your career and your financial security. Meanwhile, the people you were trying to get even with will be fine.”

“This isn’t about revenge.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’d been fighting for six years, Rose.” Iris crossed her arms. “It was clear I wasn’t going to win that war.”

“Here.” Lily shoved the stew at Iris.

Iris took the bowl. “What are you doing?”

“I’m going to eat my dinner in peace.” Lily carried her stew and ice water toward the dining room.

“You’re just going to leave us?” Iris frowned at Lily’s back.

Her middle sister turned to face her. “Do you think it’s fun for me, listening to the two of you argue all the time? Why do we have these family dinners if it’s not to enjoy what’s left of our family?”

Iris glanced at Rose. “I—”

“It’s just us.” Lily sounded tired. “Dad’s been dead almost three years. Mom died less than a year ago. I’m in this house, surrounded by happy memories of our past. Then you two come in and shout them down. I don’t want to do this anymore. I’m not going to do this anymore. Eat your food, then leave.”

Iris’s skin heated with shame as Lily walked away. “She seems pissed.”

“Yes, she does.”

“She never gets pissed.”

“No, she doesn’t.” Rose sighed. “And she’s right. We’re lucky to have each other. We shouldn’t forget that.”

Iris nodded. “We should apologize to her.”

“Let’s do it.”

Iris squared her shoulders, then led the way into the dining room. Lily sat alone at the table set for three. Iris took the seat at the place setting across from her. Rose settled beside Iris. Lily ignored them.

Iris waited a beat. “I’m so sorry, Lil.”

“So am I.” Rose’s voice was soft, contrite.

Lily looked up. Iris held her breath, waiting for her sister’s response. Lily was the only one who even tried to understand Iris’s feelings. She’d never meant to repay her sister’s love and support with pain.

Lily spooned more stew. “So how was everybody’s day?”

Their laughter shattered the tension. Hours flew by as the sisters enjoyed dinner with seconds and dessert, and good conversation. They shared kitchen duty after the meal. Then Rose and Iris left. The outdoor lights illuminated the porch and driveway. Iris stood on the other side of the front door and listened as Lily connected the locks.

She joined Rose on the driveway. “Be careful driving home.”

“You do the same.” Rose paused beside Iris’s Camry. “Listen, if you decide to go back to work, I’m sure I can help you get a position with another company. I have connections in the business community.”

“I am working.” Iris struggled to keep a hold on her temper.

Rose held up her hands. “You know what I mean.”

“Yes, Rosie, I’m afraid I do.” Why are we forever at odds? “I appreciate your offer. But I don’t need my family’s help to get a job. I can do this on my own.”

“Iris—” Rose stopped herself. She exhaled a familiar, frustrated sigh, then started over. “I know you want to do this by yourself and I commend you. But promise me that, if things get too hard to handle on your own, you’ll come to Lil or me for help.”

“I promise.” But she wouldn’t need help. She was going to succeed on her own. She could do this. If only she could land a big enough account.

* * *

“Earth to Ty. Are you in here?”

Tyler glanced around at the sound of his cousin’s voice. Xavier Anderson, the company’s vice president of finance, strode into Tyler’s office Thursday afternoon. Donovan Carroll, their friend and vice president of sales, joined him.

“What?” Tyler was still clearing his thoughts from the computer programming problem that bedeviled him.

“We knocked three times.” Donovan jerked his clean-shaven brown head toward the door behind him.

Tyler followed the gesture, then returned his attention to the two men. They were both tall and fit, and similarly dressed in dark pants and long-sleeved jerseys.

“I didn’t hear you.” Tyler pressed a couple of keys to save his computer file.

“That much was obvious.” Donovan shoved his hands in the pockets of his gray Dockers. “We should assign someone to check on you in case of a fire. I’m sure you wouldn’t hear the alarm.”

“Van and I are going to lunch.” Xavier stopped behind a guest chair. “Do you want to join us?”

“No, thanks. I packed.” Besides, Lauren Cobb, Xavier’s girlfriend of two months, would probably be there. He’d rather eat alone.

“You’re going to make me be the third wheel?” Donovan sounded as though he was only half joking.

“Sorry, man.” Tyler gave him a sympathetic look.

“You need to get out of your office once in a while, Ty.” Donovan pulled his hands from his pockets and folded himself onto one of the two gray guest chairs opposite Tyler’s desk.

Xavier took the other. “Have you heard from Kimball & Associates?”

“No, I haven’t.” Tyler looked at his black Movado watch. It was almost noon. “I thought you were going to lunch.”

“We have a few minutes.” Donovan shrugged. “So what’s the status on Kimball?”

Tyler turned away from his computer. Obviously, they weren’t going to let him get back to work. “They haven’t acknowledged my request for a proposal. They haven’t even responded to my emails or returned my calls.”

Xavier blew out a breath, sounding almost as disgusted as Tyler felt. “We’ve been working with them for years. Why are they now giving us poor service?”

Donovan glanced at Xavier. “I heard a couple of their account representatives recently left the company.”

Xavier ran a hand over his close-cropped hair. “You’re going to have to go with the other company.”

“You know I can’t do that.” Tyler leaned back on his chair. “This is our summer product launch. It needs to carry us into the fall. Iris Beharie’s a solo operation. One person can’t handle a project this big.”

The other men knew what was at stake. He’d told them. If he didn’t put together a successful product launch, Foster would name a chief executive officer from outside of the family. He couldn’t allow that to happen on his watch.

“It’s March nineteenth.” Donovan shook his head. “‘Osiris’s Journey’ drops July tenth. We only have sixteen weeks before the release.”

“I know the schedule.” Tyler rubbed his eyes with his thumb and two fingers. “I’ve found a couple of other companies to contact.”

“We don’t have time, Ty.” Xavier pinned him with his onyx stare. “You’re going to have to go with The Beharie Agency.”

Tyler frowned at the other two company vice presidents. He hated not being in control and that’s what had just happened. He’d gambled on hearing from the larger company. But the clock had run out, leaving him in the risky position of having to work with Iris Beharie. The threat came on two fronts. Professionally, Tyler wasn’t confident Iris could deliver a successful launch, which he needed to ensure Anderson Adventures remained in his family’s control. Personally, he didn’t know whether he’d be able to resist his attraction to the marketing professional. He didn’t know whether he’d want to.

Tyler sighed. “I just need another week.”

“Why are you resisting working with The Beharie Agency?” Xavier gave him the penetrating stare that made Tyler think his cousin could read his mind. “You were impressed with her proposal. Van and I read it, and we agreed with you.”

Donovan nodded. “It was detailed, creative and unique to our company. So what’s wrong?”

There was too much at risk. “Suppose halfway through the project, she’s unable to meet her contractual obligations?”

“We’ll deal with it—if it comes to that.” Donovan spread his hands.

“If it came to that, it would be too late.” Strain made Tyler’s voice brittle.

“You don’t have to prove yourself to us.” Xavier broke the momentary silence. “We know you’re a genius when it comes to game design and programming. And you know everything there is to know about this company.”

“That’s not good enough for my father.” The words were even harder to admit today. Would he be able to reach the bar his father had set for him?

“Foster wants you to spend more time getting to know our associates. And he’s right.” Xavier’s casual shrug belied the intense look in his eyes.

“What am I supposed to do?” Tyler jerked his chin toward the frosted-glass door of his office. “Walk up and down the hallways, asking people how their day’s going?”

“That’s what I do.” Donovan’s hazel-brown eyes twinkled with irreverent humor.

“You do a lot of things I wouldn’t do.” For example, agreeing to share a meal with Lauren Cobb.

“Then maybe Foster’s right.” Xavier frowned. “Despite your programming genius, your design creativity, the decades you’ve spent learning every aspect of the company, maybe you aren’t the right person to lead Anderson Adventures. If the only thing standing in the way of your goal is getting to know the people who actually keep the company going, Foster is better off looking outside for his successor.”

The rebuke stung, just as Xavier had meant it to. “Why does he have to look outside of the company? Why can’t you or Van take over?”

“That’s a good question. Why can’t you ascend to the throne, Xavier?” Lauren Cobb’s amused voice preceded her into the room.

At her entrance, Tyler stood with his cousin and his friend. What is it about her that makes me want to leave my own office?

Xavier kissed her cheek. “I thought you were going to meet us in the reception area.”

“You kept me waiting.” There was a light scolding in her reply. “I had to come looking for you. I wasn’t going to wait with the receptionist.”

An image of Iris Beharie laughing with Sherry formed in Tyler’s mind. They’d seemed to enjoy each other’s company after only a few minutes. Even following their disappointing meeting, Iris had smiled at Sherry and called her by name as she’d left their offices. In contrast, Lauren had met Xavier for lunch several times a week for months. Did she know Sherry’s name wasn’t The Receptionist? In fact, Sherry’s name was on a wooden plaque that sat on her desk. Had Lauren bothered to notice it?

Xavier took Lauren’s hand. “Then let’s go. I invited Van to join us.”

“Oh.” Lauren glanced at Donovan before returning her gaze to Xavier.

Donovan exchanged a silent question with Tyler, who shrugged. Why would his friend have agreed to join the couple for lunch? Xavier must not have been completely forthcoming with his invitation.

His cousin arched a brow at him. “Are you sure you won’t join us?”

Positive. “Thanks anyway.”

Lauren put her free hand on Xavier’s chest. “I’m still waiting for my answer. Why can’t you take over Anderson Adventures when your uncle steps down?”

“My passion is numbers. But numbers are only a small part of the company.” Xavier smiled. “Tyler’s passion extends to everything: numbers, distribution, software, hardware, technical support.”

“Saint Ty.” Lauren gave Tyler a cool smile. “Heavy is the head that wears the crown.”

“Ty was born to run the company.” Donovan met Tyler’s gaze. “And he’d be good at it.”

The pride in the other men’s voices humbled him. Tyler braced his hand on his desk.

“Make the call, Ty.” Xavier’s words were quiet but firm.

“I will.” He waited until the trio left his office.

Tyler resumed his seat, then loaded The Beharie Agency’s website. Iris’s contact number was on the home page. He tapped it into his phone.

She was his last resort. Would their partnership help him achieve his goal? Or by this time next year, would an outsider be sitting in his father’s office?

There was only one way to find out.


Chapter 3 (#ulink_38d1aa42-d178-5804-9503-6145c32f9dfb)

Iris turned her cell phone back on as she left her client meeting Thursday afternoon. The voicemail message icon popped onto her display screen. She played the recording as she strode across the parking lot toward her car.

“Iris, this is Ty Anderson of Anderson Adventures.”

The unexpected sound of his warm baritone made her knees tremble. Iris paused to steady herself before continuing to her Camry.

“Could you meet with me this afternoon?” He left his phone number and asked her to call him back. His message was time stamped at twelve-eighteen.

Was it possible he’d decided to work with her? Or perhaps he wanted to return her business card. Iris’s hands shook as she unlocked her door. She tossed her briefcase onto her backseat. After their last meeting more than a week ago, she’d been pretty confident it would be years—if ever—before Anderson Adventures showed any further interest in her agency. Now, perhaps she was getting that opportunity she’d been hoping for.

She slammed her car door shut, then glanced at her silver Omni wristwatch. Two o’clock in the afternoon. She’d already kept him waiting almost two hours.

Iris got behind the wheel of her Camry and turned the ignition. She took a deep breath, then put on her hands-free device before calling Tyler. Her hands continued to shake.

His line rang three times before Sherry picked up. “Anderson Adventures. Tyler Anderson’s office. May I help you?”

“Sherry, it’s Iris Beharie. How are you?”

“I’m fine, and you?” There was a smile in the other woman’s voice.

“Living the dream, Sherry. Living the dream.” Iris pressed the button for her heater. Was it the temperature or her nerves making her hands shake? “I’m returning Ty’s call. Is he available?”

“Let me check.”

While she waited, Iris navigated out of the parking lot and headed toward her townhome about fifteen minutes away.

“Iris?” Sherry returned to the phone. “Ty’s back in his office. Let me put you through.”

“Thanks, Sherry. Enjoy the rest of your afternoon.”

Iris braced herself for her conversation with Anderson Adventures’ vice president of product development.

“Thank you for calling me back.” Tyler’s voice caused a tremor of pleasure to roll down her spine, in contrast to the tension tightening her shoulders.

She took a settling breath. “Of course. What can I do for you?”

“I’d actually wanted to meet with you in person but your website doesn’t have your business address.”

Iris stopped at a red light. “I work out of my home.”

The screeching silence coming over the phone line screamed, Wrong answer! She wouldn’t apologize for her cost-cutting measures. Once her business was on more solid ground she’d rent space in a cozy nearby office complex. Until then, she promoted her lack of an office as providing her clients with the convenience of her coming to them.

“You meet with clients in your home?” Tyler sounded as though her one-woman show had gone down even farther in his estimation.

“No, I meet with them in their offices, just as I met with you last week at Anderson Adventures.” Iris struggled to focus on Tyler’s words. His voice did wicked things to her insides.

The traffic light turned green. Iris pulled into the intersection and continued her drive home.

“I see.”

Iris frowned. “Did you ask me to call just so we could chat about office rentals? Is Anderson Adventures looking to expand?”

“Not at this time.” There was a tapping in the background as though Tyler was drumming his fingers on the glass surface of his desk. “Actually, Iris, I was calling to give you the contract for our product launch. How soon can you start?”

Did he just offer me the project he didn’t think I had a snowball’s chance in hell of contractually completing?

“I’m sorry, what did you say?”

“I said we want The Beharie Agency to handle the product launch for ‘Osiris’s Journey.’”

“What made you change your mind?” Iris pulled into a nearby parking lot. This discussion required her full attention.

Tyler hesitated as though he hadn’t anticipated her question. Had he thought she’d jump for joy, then sign the contract before he could change his mind? Anderson Adventures wasn’t the only one with a lot to lose.

“Your proposal was very strong and you spoke enthusiastically about the project.”

Iris parked in the first open space she found. “We discussed my proposal more than a week ago. At that time, you were adamant that, although my plan was strong, my solo practice didn’t inspire your confidence. What’s changed?”

She turned off her engine and stared through the windshield. She imagined Tyler, sitting at his desk, surrounded by his computer, minifridge and radio. What had happened to bring the gaming executive back to her?

“I’ve changed my mind.”

The lightbulb came on in Iris’s brain. “The larger company didn’t work out, did they? What happened? Did they charge too much money? They couldn’t commit to your launch schedule?”

“That’s not relevant. The fact of the matter is—”

“Come clean, Ty. If we’re going to be working together, we can’t have secrets between us.”

Another pause. “I’m not used to vendors being so...”

“Assertive?”

“I was going to say bold.”

Iris smiled. Did he think she’d be insulted? “You’ve never worked with me.”

Tyler gave her a noncommittal “hmm.” “The other company didn’t respond to my request for a proposal.”

Iris snapped her fingers. “Poor customer service. You know, I almost said that. Actually, I should have said that before guessing they’d asked for too much money. After all, Anderson Adventures is a multimillion-dollar company. You could probably afford to contract with two large consulting businesses.”

She’d love to know what company had been stupid enough to ignore a proposal request from Anderson Adventures.

Tyler sighed. “Iris? Do you want the contract?”

“I’m not comfortable working for a client who doubts my abilities.” She watched a squirrel race up the evergreen tree planted in front of her car. It scurried away, disappearing into the branches. “You won’t trust my opinions and you’ll second-guess my actions.”

Her last boss had made her justify every thought she had, every move she made—then had taken credit for her successes. She couldn’t work like that—no matter how badly she wanted this account.

“You’re launching an Anderson Adventures product. I have to approve your marketing strategy. I’m hiring your company but you’re representing mine.” Tyler’s tone was persuasive. It was as though, now that he’d set his mind to hiring her, he wasn’t going to take no for an answer.

“You’re hiring my expertise. If I tell you something will or won’t work, I need you to respect that.”

“As long as you’re willing to discuss your reasoning.”

Iris hesitated a moment more. The bottom line was she wanted this account. She still had her reservations because of his low expectation of her abilities. But she wanted the opportunity to prove to Tyler Anderson that what he’d considered second best had been the right choice all along.

“Fair enough. I’ll accept your offer. Thank you.”

“Good.” Tyler seemed relieved. “How soon can you start?”

Iris arched a brow at his anxious tone. “I take it you haven’t postponed your product launch?”

“No, we haven’t.”

Of course not. “Then I’ll see you at eight o’clock tomorrow morning.”

“Thank you, Iris.”

Had she actually gotten a smile out of the product developer? “Enjoy your afternoon, Ty.”

Iris disconnected the call, then restarted her car. Something told her she’d have an uphill battle with Anderson Adventures’ vice president of product development. Tyler didn’t appear to impress easily. But that’s what she’d have to do to ensure the success of this account and future client recommendations.

This was the opportunity she’d been working toward. She had until eight o’clock tomorrow morning to come up with a detailed plan for the product launch—and another to avoid being distracted by Tyler Anderson.

* * *

“Why do we need an internal launch?” Tyler sounded as if he needed more coffee.

Iris’s gaze moved from his irritated ebony eyes to the large silver-and-black mug beside her new client’s right hand. Should I suggest he get a refill? No, that would probably offend him.

She sat back on the cushioned chair at his conversation table and refocused on their Friday-morning meeting. “I’m sure details of ‘Osiris’s Journey’ have been kept from most—if not all—of your employees to prevent leaks.”

“That’s right. We don’t want the public—or our competitors—to hear about it in advance.”

“Most successful corporate campaigns grow from the inside out. Before you launch your latest game nationally, you should give your employees a sneak peek. It’s a morale booster.”

“Foster sends a companywide email before each release.” Tyler noted something on his electronic tablet. “But since I’m handling this launch, he’ll probably want the message to come from me. I’ll check with him.”

That was more than a lot of companies did but still not enough. “Your employees should know about more than just the game. Tell them how you’re going to launch it—key dates, media outlets, talking points. They’ll share that information with family, friends, members of their community organizations. It’s free word-of-mouth advertising.”

“We can put that in the email.” Tyler continued typing.

“With all due respect, Ty, an email’s not enough.” Iris watched his long, elegant fingers move across the tablet’s keyboard. The sight was distracting. She raised her eyes. “The majority of company emails aren’t read. If you want employees to receive your message, your best bet is talking with them face-to-face.”

They locked gazes. This was their first disagreement—and the first item on her agenda. If she had to debate each of the four topics with him, it was going to be a long meeting. She glanced at her coffee mug. I wonder if I should get a refill?

Tyler finally nodded. “Those are good points.”

“Thank you.” Iris wanted to pump her fist in victory. She settled for handing him another sheet of paper from her manila project folder. “This is a draft schedule of your internal launch, including tasks. I’ve also emailed it to you. We can review it once we’re done with the other agenda items.”

“This is a lot of detail. When did you put this together?”

The admiration in Tyler’s tone made Iris pause. “Last night.”

“Thank you.” Those two words expressed more than gratitude. She heard respect, appreciation and relief.

“You’re welcome.”

Thankfully, they moved through the rest of the agenda at a much faster pace. At least until they came to the media interviews.

“Why do I have to do so many of them?” Surly best described Tyler’s tone.

“I’m going to pitch your release to these outlets—print, as well as broadcast and podcasts. That doesn’t mean all of these venues will agree to an interview.”

“Our previous marketing consultant just sent out press releases. We’ve never done pitches before.”

“That’s not a good enough reason not to do them now.” How much had their previous consultant charged to attach a release to an email and hit Send? Iris cringed just thinking about it.

“Don’t you think this is going overboard?” Tyler gestured toward her media proposal.

“Not at all.” Iris was firm. “Your three most recent product releases have been on the list of the top-ten most popular computer games for almost a year. Candidly, I think every media outlet all over the country will jump at the chance to interview you. We should do as many of them as we can.”

“I can’t be away from the office for weeks at a time.” Tyler looked harassed. “We’re working on other games.”

“We’ll only do what your schedule will allow. Some of these can be done over the phone.” Iris checked that item off of their agenda. “You showed me some of the features of ‘Osiris’s Journey.’ I’m not familiar with computer games but I was impressed by yours.”

“Thank you.”

“But it’s not what I expected.” Iris’s eyebrows knitted. “Why did you create the game?”

Tyler seemed deep in thought as he sipped his coffee. “We designed ‘Osiris’s Journey’ to introduce teens and preteens to Egyptian mythology.”

“Osiris is considered the king of the afterlife.”

Tyler nodded. “For example, he’s credited with the harvest and renewal of crops, the flooding of the Nile, the rising and setting of the sun. The game is a series of battles between Osiris and his brother, Seth, who murdered him and cut his body into fourteen pieces. Seth is the god of storms and the desert.”

“It looks like an exciting game. I’m glad that you included Osiris’s wife, Isis, as well.”

“Isis is critical to Osiris’s story.” Tyler’s deep voice quickened with enthusiasm. “After Seth cut Osiris’s body into fourteen pieces, Isis searched their kingdom until she found each one. Then she used her magic to put him back together and bring him back to life.”

“I’m familiar with their mythology. It’s such a bittersweet love story. She was really devoted to him.” What would it be like to have someone love her that much? Sometimes she wondered whether she’d ever find love, true love.

Iris set the thought aside and moved on to the next agenda item, social media. “I couldn’t find Anderson Adventures on Facebook or Twitter. Do you have those accounts?”

“No.” Tyler looked as though she’d asked if he’d ever traveled off planet.

Iris’s eyebrows knitted in confusion. “You sell computer games. Your audience is on the internet. Anderson Adventures needs to get on the social media bandwagon—Facebook, Twitter, Pinterest, Instagram—”

“Slow down.” Tyler held up a hand. “We don’t have the staff to maintain those sites.”

“I can get us started for now.” Iris watched him lower his hand. “We’ll discuss your hiring college interns to maintain the sites once I’m gone.”

“All right.” But he didn’t sound happy about it.

“You’re a computer gaming company.” Iris swallowed back her growing agitation. “It’s critically important for you to be active on social media. Your customers are there.”

“We’ve never had a marketing consultant tell us any of this before.” Tyler stared down at the meeting agenda as though it was a death warrant. “This partnership is going to change the company in ways I’d never imagined.”

“That’s a good thing.” Iris surrendered to her indignation. “Your previous marketing consultants should have set up your social media platforms. They should have given you a plan on how to run it. What were you paying them for?”

Tyler was silent for several rapid heartbeats. His ebony eyes searched each of her features as though he was looking for something. “You’re right. I’m glad you’re here, Iris.”

A slow blush warmed her cheeks. Iris’s unsteady gaze dropped. He was glad she was here for the product launch. She knew that’s what he’d meant. Then why did she want him to mean something more?

* * *

Tyler’s caller identification screen displayed Kimball & Associates’ phone number. So, his former marketing consulting firm had decided to return his messages. It was after five o’clock on Friday afternoon, more than a week after the proposal deadline.

Where had they been this morning, before he’d signed the contract with Iris—and barely survived their first project meeting? Better yet, where had they been a week ago, when he’d called to ask for their proposal? He swallowed a sigh and picked up the phone.

“Tyler Anderson.” His voice was tight.

“Ty! It’s Pete Kimball. How are you?”

“Fine, Pete. How can I help you?”

Peter must have keyed into Tyler’s cool tone. He pumped up the energy and enthusiasm in his voice as though hoping to break through the ice. “Hey, thank you for giving us an opportunity to submit a proposal for your launch. I’m getting ready to send it over to you now.”

Tyler rubbed his eyes. “It’s March twentieth. The deadline was more than a week ago.”

“I know, Ty. We’ve just been so lousy busy around here lately.”

“Is that the reason you didn’t return my messages? I left several.”

“Yeah, it’s just been crazy. I’m really sorry about that.”

“I’m sorry, too, Pete.” Tyler went back to the summary he was drafting on the latest test results for “Osiris’s Journey.” They were dismal. And he was running out of time. “There’s no point in your submitting a proposal. I’ve already awarded the contract.”

“You have?” Peter sounded stunned.

What had he expected, that Anderson Adventures would sit and wait forever for their proposal?

“Yes and we’ve signed a contract.” Tyler typed in the date and time of the next game test and recommendations for improvements. “As I explained in my request for your proposal, we’re on a very tight time frame for the launch. That’s one of the reasons I left so many messages for you.” Pity you never responded to any of them.

“I see.”

“Goodbye, Pete.”

“Wait! Do you mind if I ask who won the contract?”

Tyler hesitated but didn’t see any harm in telling Peter he was working with Iris. “The Beharie Agency.”

“Iris Beharie?” Peter sounded as though Tyler had contracted with an alien life form.

“Do you know her?”

“Yes, I do.” The consultant’s tone was grim. “Listen, Ty. There’s something you should know about her.”


Chapter 4 (#ulink_e2454c0c-9b3c-5e18-ba0e-182c913ce99a)

Standing at her stove Friday evening, Iris wasn’t especially curious when her front doorbell chimed a little after six o’clock. It couldn’t be anyone she knew. Family and friends pulled in behind her garage and knocked at her back door. She turned off the fire beneath the boiling pot of water—the spaghetti would have to wait—then padded in stocking feet out of her kitchen and across her living room. Iris rose up on her toes to check the peephole—and gasped.

What is Ty Anderson doing at my door?

She grabbed the knot of hair she’d clipped to the top of her head. Horrified, she looked at her oversized sweatshirt and faded red tights with the name of Cleveland’s professional basketball team written on the legs.

Oh, my word! I can’t let a client see me like this.

The doorbell rang again. Iris’s panicked, gaze leaped up the stairs. But if Tyler couldn’t wait one minute for her to answer his summons, there was no way Mr. Impatience would cool his heels while she pulled on a power suit.

Iris channeled her older sister, Rose. Assume control, project confidence. She pulled open her front door. “Ty. What a surprise. I believe I mentioned I never conduct client meetings in my home.”

“We need to talk.” His somber expression alarmed her.

Iris stepped aside, gesturing him in. “What’s wrong?”

Tyler crossed her threshold before turning to face her. “Why didn’t you tell me you were fired from RGB for unethical behavior?”

A hundred words flashed across Iris’s mind. Several of them were quite unprofessional. She kept a grip on her temper by channeling her inner Lily. Remain calm; get the facts.

Iris counted to twenty while she closed and locked her front door against the chill of the late-March evening. She faced Tyler, keeping her arms at her sides and her gaze level with his. “What makes you think RGB fired me?”

“My sources in the industry told me.”

His sources? The lightbulb clicked on. Pete Kimball, that nasty, little troll. Iris drew a deeper breath. How did Lily maintain her serenity?

“Your sources are incorrect.” She tilted her head. “Are you interested in the truth?”

“Of course.” Tyler crossed his arms over his broad chest.

Iris gave him a once-over. His teak wool overcoat masked his long, lean form. His ebony eyes burned with outrage and...betrayal? Did he think she’d broken his trust? She had too much personal integrity to do something like that. But of course Tyler wouldn’t know that because he didn’t know her.

Iris led him the few steps into her living room and gestured toward her chunky, emerald sofa. “Have a seat.” The invitation went against her grain. She’d never intended to entertain clients in her home. But by showing up on her doorstep and questioning her character, he’d left her no choice.

Tyler hesitated a second or two before shrugging off his overcoat and following her instructions. Iris didn’t take his coat. He wouldn’t be staying that long.

“What happened at RGB?” Tyler set his coat on the cushion beside him.

Iris settled onto her matching love seat. “RGB was my second job out of college. I’d worked there for more than five years as a public relations coordinator. Meanwhile, other people with less experience and ability than me were advanced ahead of me because they either had the look the executives wanted or their father knew someone in management.”

“The old boys’ club.” Tyler’s tone was dry.

“Exactly.” Iris crossed her legs and folded her arms. Her stomach still churned at the injustice. She’d never forget it. “I’m not proud of the fact that I played their game for so long. I thought my hard work and dedication would be rewarded. Instead, I behaved like the definition of insanity.”

“You were literally doing the same thing over and over again, and expecting a different result.” Tyler’s eyes no longer burned with the fires of retribution. They’d softened with an empathy Iris was even less comfortable with.

“That’s right.” She lifted her chin, defiant. “I was passed over for a fourth time for an account executive position. Management promoted the son of one of the vice president’s friends. My consolation prize was being assigned to his team provided I did his work.”

Tyler frowned. “If they wanted you to do his work, why did they give him the job?”

“His father wanted him to have the title and pay.” Iris swung her right calf in short, stiff movements. “And to take the credit.”

“Unbelievable. What did you do?”

“That’s probably where the claims of unethical behavior come in.” Iris didn’t hesitate. “I told them in anatomically correct terms what they could do with their offer and how they could do it. But I didn’t give them the chance to fire me. I quit. I can show you the email if you doubt me.”

Tyler’s eyebrows leapt up his high forehead. “You responded in an email?”

“Maybe that’s how Pete Kimball got the idea that my behavior was unethical.”

“Who mentioned Pete Kimball?” Tyler’s enigmatic expression didn’t fool Iris.

“It’s simple deduction, Sherlock.” Iris stopped swinging her leg. “Pete Kimball wants your account. And he knows I have it.”

* * *

The marketing consultant was on to him. Tyler looked away. He wouldn’t—couldn’t—lie to her. And he was glad she’d stopped swinging her leg. He’d been distracted by those shapely limbs in the faded, red leggings. About half of his bluster had been his attempt to mask his reaction to them.

His fingers twitched, itching to remove the clip binding her sable tresses. But the style emphasized her elegant, warm-honey features: high cheekbones, long nose, that Cupid’s bow mouth. He could blissfully drown in her wide, coffee eyes.

Tyler pulled his gaze from Iris’s face and let it roam over her living room. The decor reflected the woman: modern, well put together, bold; from the large emerald sofa and matching love seat, to the sterling-silver-and-onyx entertainment center and matching coffee table. Three of the walls were painted pure white. The wall behind the entertainment center was deep red. The lamp on the silver-and-onyx corner table was carved from stone. The beige wall-to-wall carpet must have come with the townhome.

“I’m sorry I accused you instead of asking for an explanation.” Tyler’s attention dropped to the magazine spread open on her coffee table. It was the latest issue of a computer gaming publication.

“Corporate espionage is a hot-button issue in the gaming industry.” Iris shrugged. “Being told you’ve hired an ethically challenged consultant probably didn’t sit well with you.”

“I appreciate your understanding.”

“Now that we’ve gotten that straightened out, I’m going to settle in for the evening.” She stood, unfolding her arms. “I’ve got a lot of work to do to prepare for your executive team meeting Monday morning.”

I’m being dismissed. Tyler suppressed a smile as he rose from Iris’s sofa. “Of course. I’m sorry to barge in on you at home.”

“I’m glad we talked it through.” Iris led him to her door. “Once you get to know me, you’ll realize you can trust me. I understand and respect your need for confidentiality.”

Tyler jerked his attention from her hips. He shouldn’t be checking out his consultant. “Thank you.”

Iris opened her front door, pulling it wider as she stepped back. “Enjoy the rest of your weekend.”

Tyler stepped over the threshold, then looked back at her. “Should we get together to discuss the agenda for Monday’s meeting?”

Her winged eyebrows knitted. “We already discussed most of it when we met this morning.”

“All right. Good.” He hadn’t felt this awkward around a female since puberty. “One thing we didn’t discuss, though, was where you’ll be working.”

She frowned. “I usually work out of my office.”

“I think it would better for you to work out of ours.” Where had that come from?

“Why?” Iris looked as startled as Tyler felt.

“You pointed out yourself that we’re on a tight schedule, which is even tighter since you insist on an internal launch.”

“The internal launch is the right thing to do for your employees.”





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