"All right, Tasha, see for yourself. Money might not buy happiness," I whispered to myself.
The thought stopped m
e. For the past few years, ever since I had joined Hyperion, I had judged my success by my bank account. By that standard, James Berger had wild success. It took seeing his change of face to realize that real success had to come from something else.
James passed me in the hall, his expression brightening to a lascivious smile. "Hey there. New around here?"
I bit my lip hard and ignored him. The biggest meeting of my career was just steps away, and I wasn't going to let another junior executive get in my way. I marched past him and into the conference room doorway.
There I froze again. I was so unaccustomed to being late that the full room surprised me. Then surprise turned to dismay. The only open seat was next to Rainer Maxwell. He looked up and his electric-blue eyes locked on to mine. I felt a zing of excitement but told myself it was only the big news about to be revealed. If only I could sit next to anyone else, I might actually enjoy hearing how the product launch went.
I scanned the room again, but it was standing room only.
"Tasha, over here." Rainer stood up and gestured to the open seat.
The whole team glanced up, and I had no choice. My department managers and team members made a path as I scooted around the long conference table towards Rainer. He smiled, and I felt another bloom of heat. I swore I told Amy to turn down the conference room thermostat before the meeting starting. That many people packed into one room made everyone hot.
Warm, I meant warm. Not hot. Rainer Maxwell was not hot. At least not to me.
I took a deep breath and tried to stop my babbling thoughts. This was my meeting, and it already looked like I answered to Rainer. I had to make sure to get the upper hand.
"Here. Looks like this seat is for you," Rainer said. He pulled out the office chair and held out his hand.
I pulled back my stack of reports and set them down on the long table myself. Dozens of curious eyes watched us. I couldn't believe it. Rainer was using chivalry to take control of the meeting. He looked like the leader, and I was just some girl sitting at his side.
I ground my teeth. "Thanks," I managed to say in a civil tone.
I sat down and exhaled a sharp sigh to ward off his warm and inviting scent of spice and leather. My cheeks felt hot but rushing down the hallways was responsible for that. The hard flex of his arm muscles against the soft, tailored wool of his suit coat drew my eyes, and I had to pretend to pluck an invisible speck of lint off my sleeve. His brown hair was so dark that it caught the shine of the conference room lights. Rainer wore it slicked back with some glossy product, and, for a moment, I imagined what his wavy hair would be like if it let loose.
"Nice to see you again, Ms. Nichols," Rainer said.
"What? Oh, yes. Thanks, Raymond."
I held my breath. Rainer had me so tongue-tied that I called him the wrong name! Then Stan's wicked voice whispered in my head, and I relaxed. My slip-up had the perfect effect. All around us, my team members assumed that I had no idea who Rainer Maxwell was. They turned back to the thick packets on the conference room table and resumed their normal conversations. He was no big deal if I didn't know him.
Rainer's best bet was to pretend he hadn't heard me call him the wrong name. Suddenly, he had to check the messages on his phone. I grabbed a packet from the middle of the conference table and got comfortable. Too bad the dense reports and vague tables swam in and out of my focus.
He had strong hands. Not the manicured hands of a white collar worker, but the wide, square palms and long fingers of someone capable. The dusting of dark hair only heightened the masculine power. I wondered what those hands would feel like wrapped around my waist.
"Water?" Rainer asked. He poured me a tall glass with his phone propped on his shoulder.
I cleared my throat again. "Thanks."
His bright, blue eyes caught mine and I saw his expression narrow. I hadn't used the wrong name again, and now he was wondering if I knew his real name or not. I should have invited Stan to the meeting; he would have loved it.
I sipped the water and forced myself to flip a few more pages. The real outcome was buried somewhere in all the figures, but I couldn't make any sense of it. Just like I couldn't understand why the accidental brush of Rainer's thigh made my pulse gallop.
"By the way, my name is Rainer," he said.
"Is it? What did I say?" I feigned innocence.
The man to Rainer's left snickered and elbowed him. "I've never known a woman to get your name wrong. Must be losing it."
"Please," Rainer said. "We just haven’t had a chance to get properly acquainted."
I didn't let the side comments derail me. "Have we met before?" I asked Rainer.
The little lines appeared at the corners of his mouth. He knew what I was doing, but there was no easy way out for him. "I think we've bumped into each other a few times," he said.