If I Had You Page 5

  He locked his glare with her direct gaze, silently pushing against her doubts…his doubts.

  “Looks like I’ve arrived at my destination.” She gathered her pocketbook and briefcase.

  Brent wanted to continue with his defense. He didn’t think she had the wrong approach, but he wasn’t sure that she was one-hundred-percent correct, either. Wasting time with the wrong strategy had consequences, especially with a record label involved.

  The car slowed to a stop. The driver got out and walked around to Charisse’s door.

  “Relax. I like to play the devil’s advocate. Brings perspective to the discussion.” Charisse raised her eyebrow at him and scooted out of the car. “Thanks for the ride. See you tomorrow?”

  Brent nodded. “Good luck with your meeting.”

  He waited until she entered the building before signaling to the driver to continue.

  Tomorrow? She didn’t have to say the word like a teasing invite. Maybe he didn’t need to react to everything as if he’d never been around an attractive, business-savvy woman. And he didn’t want her to play devil anything. All his research about her hadn’t prepared him for this temptation.

  Could he relax and allow her to run with her ideas? And did he have the grit to resist casual flirtation? That was the million-dollar question.

  Chapter 4

  Charisse wrapped up her meetings with Takahashi and the McGuire Brothers, grateful that these clients were completely on board with her suggestions. She had taken for granted having her clients take her advice without rebuttal. Brent’s rejection of her ideas had stoked her anger, and his second-guessing had worked her nerves.

  Freedom to create her ideas and plans was important. If Brent questioned her every move along the way, it would dampen her creativity.

  Now she felt the need to prove her worth early on in the game. Instead of going to her hair appointment for a touch-up and trim, she rebooked and headed to someone she knew had good advice and contacts. The fact that he was also interested in her was an irritating factor, but she had always managed to hold him off.

  Three cups of coffee later, Jake still hadn’t shown up. He wasn’t known for his punctuality, but an hour late was beyond the bounds of her patience. He was a former colleague from a competing firm. They had worked together on some projects but for the most part, tended to be on opposite sides of the fence, vying for the same contracts.

  Although he had a reputation with women, she didn’t ever plan to be one of his conquered prizes. However, Jake had contacts that she needed and knowledge that could benefit her.

  “Wipe that frown off that pretty face.” Jake slid into the chair opposite hers. He unzipped his jacket but didn’t remove it. His dark eyes sparkled with their usual mischievous glint.

  “You’re getting worse about the punctuality. I don’t have much time.”

  “Much time for what? Now that you’re the boss lady, you look uptight. I thought you’d be running around like a queen diva.”

  “Queen diva, oh, please. You’ve got the wrong woman.”

  “You’re also cranky. Talk to Jake, let’s see if I can turn that frown upside down.” Jake added a cheesy grin. His little-boy looks didn’t seem to match his supersize frame.

  “You’re lucky I’m desperate.”

  “Words that I’ve wanted to hear for so long.”

  “Stop.” Charisse waved away the innuendo as she did with all of Jake’s flirtatious comments.

  “Okay, talk. By the way, in case you think that you’re the only important person with your boutique office, I’m actually moving up the feeding chain myself.” He raised his water glass.

  “Congratulations, Jake. That’s great. You are a PR guru, even if you’re egotistical and sexist.” Charisse clinked water glasses with him.

  “Too many big words. But I’ll take the compliment.”

  “I’ve got good news, too. I have a new client.”

  “Cheers.” He took her coffee cup and took a long sip. “Ack. Not enough sugar.” He signaled the waitress to bring another cup. “Tell me about your new income stream.”

  “Ex-lawyer turned manager of a new R & B group. He’s looking for a PR campaign to get them a fan base and some exposure.”

  “Tricky. Is the group worth the effort?”

  “I saw a video of them—talented, good-looking guys.”

  Jake shrugged. “With the right momentum, nowadays you can make anyone a star.”

  “That’s the general feeling, but I still think that eventually the fans would get bored if there’s nothing to back up the glitz.” Charisse thought of all the one-hit groups that delivered a big bang but then fizzled on their sophomore attempts.

  Jake tapped the table for her attention. “What do you need from me?”

  “It’s not really a problem yet. I mean, it’s only been the first day that we chatted about the plans. Maybe I’m overreacting.”

  “I know this is our usual coffee meet up so I can bring you up-to-date on the industry gossip and goings-on. However, I am also your mentor.” He raised his hand at her quick protest. “No need to be modest. You know you love my wisdom.”

  “He’s not agreeing with me.” Charisse rushed the admission to cut Jake’s climb onto his soapbox.

  “I can handle his stupidity a few ways. I can have a little talky-talk with him.” He cracked his knuckles, grinning evilly at her.

  “I think he could probably pulverize you.” Charisse snorted.

  Jake had the physique of a heavyweight boxer. But over the years, Charisse learned that he was a teddy bear with a soft spot for the ladies.

  On the other hand, her latest client had to be over six feet tall, with several inches to spare. Where other men were tall and lanky, Brent had enough all-over muscular tone to set him apart. She’d seen his muscles flex and move beneath his clothing at dinner and in her office. But even more impressive than his physical assets was his inner grace, ease and sophistication. His emotions hid behind a handsome face that offered only an occasional glimpse of what lay beneath the surface.

  “I’m a man who knows his limitations. I would be the king of diplomacy as I cut his legs from under him.”

  Charisse laughed. Jake certainly had earned that exact reputation with those who got on the wrong side of him. No need to go so hardcore with Brent, though.

  She continued, “I want to know if I can get an introduction to the host for the local entertainment cable station.”

  “Gladys Beecher? I think I could do that. You know she wants me.”

  “Well, introduce me to her before you screw up that working relationship. I’ll need that as soon as possible.”

  “How is she going to help you win over your new client?”

  “He needs to see that I can deliver. And this would be a sizable present. Then I can have space for some of the other ideas I have in mind.”

  “He’d be a fool not to give you your space.”

  Charisse nodded.

  “Well, if he still gives you a hard time…call me whenever, wherever, bella.”

  “Not in a million years.” Charisse rolled her eyes.

  Jake shrugged. “Don’t go falling for him.”

  “I’m not like you. I don’t try to go horizontal on all my clients.”

  “You make me sound like I don’t have discerning tastes. I’m keeping myself pure for you.”

  “Oh, I’m flattered. But don’t ruin some woman’s fantasy on my account.” She drained her coffee. “Call me as soon as you’ve made contact with Gladys.” She blew him a kiss.

  “Stop toying with me. I’ll let you know about Gladys. Now I have to go find a woman willing to buy me dinner.”

  Charisse laughed at Jake’s woeful expression. She
gathered up her pocketbook and stood. They hugged. She ignored Jake’s groan and pushed him away.

  Even though she had Jake in her corner helping nab Gladys, she didn’t want to rely on that as her only major delivery. She placed another call to her contact at a music magazine who had a reputation for being friendly toward new acts.

  Once she’d had time to think about what she wanted, she was more certain that she had a good publicity plan for the band.

  The crisp spring day felt good. She decided to walk some of the way back to her office. After a fruitful day of appointments, she liked the solitude of strolling down the busy streets crammed with buildings and traffic. The mixture of the two worlds colliding energized her.

  New York City had become her new home after she graduated from college and made the easy decision to leave her parent’s home in upstate New York. She was a hometown girl, a homecoming queen destined to marry the high school quarterback. But her dreams had matured throughout college, and she had moved on, planting her feet squarely in the heart of New York City and working for other public relations firms for several years.

  While she attended her friends’ weddings and baby showers, she remained the odd one out—completely unattached, with no dependents. She tried to be interested in their daily lives, but she felt worlds apart from their domestic concerns. Her mother begged for her to stop running herself so ragged. But Charisse felt her mother had lived the cookie-cutter lifestyle for too long.

  Charisse strolled past an art gallery with various artwork in the window. The small shop called out to her. The watercolors especially touched her as a reminder of her mother’s creative dreams. A wave of homesickness washed over her.

  “May I help you? I’m the owner.” A smiling woman greeted her entry.

  “Thank you, but I’m browsing.”

  “Take your time. We’re also featuring an artist from Belize.”

  “Sounds interesting.” Charisse followed the owner into a small alcove dedicated to the artist’s works.

  The owner smiled as she trailed her finger along a frame. “This is my favorite. The artist painted an abstract that embodies the hope for Belize. You can see the people dancing and celebrating among the large fabric of the flag that unites them.”

  Charisse studied the artistry. Many points touched a chord with her own aspirations and struggles. She turned to the owner. “I’d like to savor the work.”

  “Of course.” The gallery owner left her in the room.

  Charisse had learned early from her mother to allow art the time to speak to its audience. She had seen the evidence when her mother pulled out her sketchbook and started drawing. Years later, she’d discovered tons of her mom’s finished work.

  That moment came back so vividly.

  “Mom, you’re good.” Charisse held up the painting of the town from a high point that was a lookout point for tourists.

  “With you and your brothers and sister gone, I have time now.”

  “Better hope Dad doesn’t retire, then,” Charisse joked.

  “That’s in the works.”

  “Really.” Charisse sat opposite her mom, waiting for her to elaborate.

  “Time for me to start my career.”

  “Oh.” Charisse could’ve kicked herself for sounding judgmental.

  “I know what you’re thinking. I should be thinking about retirement time with your father. But this is what I agreed to do from the beginning when we became parents.”

  “That was a mighty long promise to hold.”

  Now that she had the opportunity to admire this artist’s inspiration, Charisse could understand why her mother never stopped believing.

  However, she didn’t know where that faith came from to understand the depth of such a sacrifice. How would she learn? Looking at her naked fingers without so much as a friendship ring, she imagined that she’d first have to deal with her commitment issues.

  She left the gallery store, promising to return. She’d love to make it a mother-daughter outing. She rarely had time to relax and be in the moment, and drifting through the small gallery had provided a comforting surge against her insecurities.

  A text buzzed its arrival on Charisse’s phone. It was Shelby, saying she would stop by the office tomorrow to chat.

  She dialed Tracy. “Shelby is coming to the office tomorrow. Not sure what time. Please clear my schedule.”

  “Done. Wait a minute. What about Thatcher?”

  Charisse sucked in air through gritted teeth. She didn’t want to reschedule him.

  “He’s supposed to come in the evening. She should be gone by then,” Charisse said.

  “You’re right. Would serve her right if she came to the office and he was sitting at her desk. Okay, we should be all set.”

  “Good luck.”

  Charisse hung up. Tomorrow was going to be a stress-filled day. First, she’d have to deal with Shelby. Then she’d have to deal with Brent.

  Both people could affect her dream. She wanted to prepare for the worst with Shelby. With Brent, she planned to give him her best.

  Thatcher Entertainment Agency, as part of her business portfolio, would help keep her focused on the big dream, a dream that may now have to unfold with only her at the helm of a small team. One task at a time, she’d prove to Brent that he’d made the right choice. Tomorrow he’d be back in her office with his infectious quirky personality. The man’s charm had an addictive quality that left her wanting more of his attention. Worse, he made her want to be…sexy. His appreciation of her femininity wasn’t lost on her.

  She crossed the road, heading to her hairdresser. Her hair needed work. She splayed her fingers in front of her. The chipped polish on several nails made her wince. All she wanted to do was to look like the executive she was. That’s all.

  Two hours later, with dusk already settling over the city, Charisse emerged from the hairdresser with a new hairstyle. The decision to take off several inches came with a swiftness that even shocked her hairdresser. The last time she had worn her hair short was in college, and with the new feathered bob, she could again feel the breeze against her neck.

  Her hand absently stroked the back of her neck. A small smile played across her face as she imagined how her friends would react to the new look. She headed back to the office with a new burst of energy, ready for another late night of work.

  Her phone rang. She was afraid that it was Shelby. But this time it was Jake.

  “What’s up?”

  “Good news. Gladys said to give her a call. She can’t promise anything, but she’ll at least give you face time.”

  Charisse wrote down the phone number.

  “And before you thank me, I’ve got a solution to another problem.”

  “What problem?”

  “Don’t try to hide things from me. I know two-faced Shelby is supposed to be with you at New Vision. If you’d asked me, I’d have told you to move on without her.”

  “I’m not in the mood for a lecture. Go ahead with your news.” Charisse suddenly felt tired. She was ready for a cab to take her straight home.

  “I found an extra pair of hands for you.”

  “I am not working with you.” The thought was outrageous.

  Jake’s laugh boomed over the phone.

  Charisse didn’t think it was funny, just a waste of her time. “I’m going to hang up.”

  “No, wait. I found someone, really. I’m not lying.” Jake continued to chuckle. “An intern. Labor in exchange for work experience and college credit. You interested?”

  Charisse balled her fist in triumph.

  “You still there?” Jake asked.

  “Yes. Jake, why are you being so helpful?”

  “’Cause it’s you.”

 
; “I owe you big—”

  “And you’re wondering about the repayment,” Jake taunted.

  “Kinda, yes.”

  “I genuinely like and respect you. I want to see you succeed and kick butt in this industry,” Jake said seriously.

  “That’s very noble.”

  “You don’t sound like you believe me.”

  “Would you believe you?”

  Jake laughed. “I guess you have a point. Really, our company is using this intern, and I got them to agree to share her with you.”

  “Wait a minute. I’m not sure I’m comfortable with that. It’s a conflict of interest.”

  “Already thought of that. She’s wrapping up her time with us. But I’m sure she could get an extension to work with you, until you have the time to hire someone.”

  “I’ll think about it. Send her over.”

  “Great.”

  Charisse hung up, wondering if she was really being helped. But she didn’t mind working with a student, since they usually worked hard.

  Chapter 5

  Brent headed for an after-party being hosted by the record label of one of his female artists. He normally didn’t put such events on his calendar because he hated attending them. But since he was in New York and his artist’s contract would be up in six months, he’d put in an appearance.

  Parties bored him. No business was being discussed with loud music as a backdrop. Everyone attending appeared to have an agenda—to meet or nab someone in the music industry. His friends pushed him to get out more. But if this is what the dating scene had become, he’d happily stay home. What was the point, anyway?

  Even in a noncommittal relationship, he’d have to open himself up. He had no desire to do so. Nor did he have the energy to nurture the various stages of a relationship—not to mention that he didn’t know how to move on from Marjorie’s passing two years ago.

  No one, not even Charisse Sanford, could stir anything in him.

  “Brent, good to see you.”

  He turned, subconsciously hoping it was Charisse’s voice he heard.