“What do they think of you now?” she asked softly. “They have to be proud of everything you’ve accomplished.”
Simon’s face turned to stone. His entire body went rigid and he leaned away from her. “No.” His voice was as cold as marble.
From his tone and change in demeanor, Heather knew that the topic of his parents was no longer up for discussion. Whatever had gone on in their years apart, it looked like Simon still didn’t have a good relationship with his parents.
“Well, how about we discuss your upcoming speech?” she asked, trying to steer the conversation away from his personal life.
“Good idea,” he said. “I plan on doing a rehearsal at the venue the day before. That way we can check the acoustics, do a sound check, and make sure everything is running smoothly.”
“You’ll also have to choose something to wear,” she said.
He frowned. “You say that like you don’t trust me to wear something appropriate.”
“That’s not it,” she said. “It’s just...you may need a more cohesive look.”
“Cohesive?”
What he was wearing wasn’t actually a problem. He had on a sweater vest and a jacket that were both designer-made. Simon was also wearing jeans that were designer-made. No matter how hard he tried to act like he didn’t care about certain things, she had a good enough eye to know that his clothes cost a fortune. “What you’re wearing makes you look like too much of a mystery,” she explained. “The jeans are casual, but the jacket is so formal. You’ve just fired your PA, hired a new one, and the press is dying to prove that you, or your company, can’t handle it.”
There was something both effortlessly masculine and sharply intellectual about him. It was like the jock and the nerd inside him were at war with each other. Try as she might to fight it, it intrigued her. Fueled her attraction to him. But the press was going to be there. Being a mystery might make it tougher for him to get his message across.
“So?”
“Don’t you want to open yourself up?” she asked. “Get the public to get to know you?”
“No.” His frown deepened. “I don’t care what people think of me.”
“You’re selling the public a product,” she pointed out. “Their opinions are going to drive whether Dover’s new generation of products can succeed. I hate to show my own personal life, but sometimes, with business, you have to let a little show. Give them a little taste to prove the product.”
“You’re right, I am selling a product,” he said, his face unreadable. “Which means I’m selling efficiency, cutting-edge technology. Not myself.”
“You are selling yourself, though,” she insisted. “I’ve spent years learning from VLA’s marketing department, and I took my share of online marketing and PR courses on VLA’s dime. I might not have the fanciest degree, but I promise I’m not trying to steer you wrong.”
“VLA is run by flashy personalities who think slick salespeople are the way to go,” he muttered. “No offense to your former employees, but their CEO is a showman. He knows nothing about engineering or creating things that improve people’s lives.”
She tapped her fingers lightly on the lunch table. “So, you’d rather continue to be a mystery to people?”
“What’s wrong with a little mystery?” he asked. “The less people know about me, the better. Dover is about the products we sell. Not the personalities behind them.”
His stubbornness was already infuriating her. How could he hope to get the public interested in his speech if he didn’t care about how he was selling it? Unless...
“Maybe we could use the mystery as a fallback,” she suggested. “Mysterious billionaire CEO gives major speech at Dover conference. Kind of like, Simon Diesel finally breaks his silence, or something. It’s pretty well known that you avoid the limelight.”
“So, my conflicting wardrobe could be an asset.” He sounded serious, but the corners of his sensuous mouth quirked up slightly. There was that look of faint amusement. It was arrogance personified. As if Simon was in on a secret nobody else knew. As if he was the smartest man in the room and knew it.