A Feast of You (19 page)

It should have been an easy job, but I was more than a little nervous. I wouldn’t have my bestie by my side on this one. How was I ever going to make peaches and strawberries look erotic without Beckett’s help? And, I’d be working with Alec again. I liked Alec, a lot, but he was Beckett’s ex now and that was just plain weird. I had no idea how he was taking the break-up. I didn’t want things between us to be awkward, but I knew they might be.

Alec greeted me as soon as Asa escorted me inside the building and up to Fresh Market’s suite. He was as warm and easy-going as always and gave me a big hug and gushed about how glad he was to see me. I relaxed right away. Of course this wasn’t going to be awkward. Alec was a pro and no matter what was going on with him and Beckett, this was work.

“Everyone is thrilled you’re on board for the summer campaign, Cat,” Alec said as he led me down a corridor toward the conference room. He looked super cute as always in slim black pants, a button-down, and a color-blocked cardigan. I looked over my shoulder and saw Asa settling into a chair in the small waiting area as the receptionist handed him a steaming cup of coffee. Waiting for me seemed to be his life. I wondered if he read. Maybe I should get him a book?

“They’re all ready for you.” And with that my attention snapped back to Alec.

I grabbed Alec’s arm as we paused outside the door to the conference room. “Before we go in, I just want to make sure you’re okay, and that we’re okay.”

He furrowed his brow. “What do you—
oh
, because of the Beckett thing?”

“Right. I hope seeing me...” I wasn’t sure how to finish the sentence exactly. It wasn’t like I was a staple in Alec and Beckett’s relationship.

“No way.” Alec waved a hand, as though my comment was the silliest thing ever.

Interesting
. Alec seemed as unaffected and casual about the break-up as Beckett had been. Had I totally misread their relationship? I’d thought they really liked each other.

“In fact,” Alec continued, “Beckett and I are still friends. He texted me about your little trip to Tropos over Valentine’s Day.”

“He did?”

“Yes, and I’m uber-jealous. Your life is fabulous. Not only did you go to your own private island, you landed a gig with Hutch Morrison. He’s totally gorgeous. More importantly, his food is to die for.”

“You have no idea. And he’s a nice guy too,” I added, still a little thrown by how
okay
both Beckett and Alec seemed to be.

“Morrison Hotel is major, Cat. Fresh Market would wet its pants if we could work with Morrison on a campaign—any campaign. Seriously, can you just Photoshop him into some of our ads? But really, congrats.”

“Thanks.”

Alec opened the door to the conference room, and I strolled in, giving the execs my biggest smile. There was a lot to discuss and concentrate on, but I couldn’t stop myself from glancing at Alec every once in a while during all the presentations and brainstorming. What was wrong with me? Did I expect him to break down in the conference room? If he said he was fine, then he was fine, right? No matter how much I told myself this, I couldn’t shake the idea that there was more to the Valentine’s Day break-up than either of them was letting on.

* * *

I
had peaches and strawberries on the brain when I met Asa in the reception area a few hours later. The meeting had gone really well. We’d discussed the look and feel that Fresh Market was going for—refreshing meets healthy meets sweet, with a sexy twist, of course—and I was confident that I could deliver what they wanted. The shoot was scheduled for Friday and I entered the time and location of the studio into my calendar on the ride over to William’s office.

William had requested that I come by today so we could discuss the WML Champagne photo shoot, since I’d slept through our first meeting on my migraine day and he was very eager for this little project to get started. I loved that he personally oversaw everything to do with his winery. The vineyard and making wine were his real passions and he became so animated and genuine when he talked about it. And, as excited as I was to add the pictures to my portfolio, I was more excited to see my boyfriend. I still ached for him—and because of him, literally—and I was very aware of my tender nipples deliciously rubbing against the fabric of my bra.

When we arrived, Asa escorted me to the private elevator bank and used a key card to gain access. We bulleted to the executive floor so quickly it made me queasy. The doors slid open and there was Parker, who was waiting for me with a smile.

“Good afternoon, Miss Kelly. It’s a pleasure to see you again.”

Parker was William’s executive assistant. She looked chic in a black tailored suit, but I noticed that her shoes were red patent leather. The idea of Parker with a wild side made me smile. Her brown hair was subtly highlighted and pulled back into a sleek ponytail. She was in her mid-thirties and had worked for William for several years. I kept meaning to ask him about her—things like her last name, for instance—but it always seemed to slip my mind.

“Thanks, Parker. How have you been?” I watched Asa stride toward one of the couches in the seating area. Poor guy would be waiting for me again.

“I’ve been well, thank you. Just trying to stay warm and dry. The snow has been unbelievable this past week, hasn’t it?” She chattered away about the weather and then gestured for me to follow her through the luxurious reception area and past the sign that read WML Capital Management, LLC. Soft music floated through the cream, brown, and beige office as Parker led me along the quiet executive floor.

“Mr. Lambourne is expecting you,” Parker said. “I’m glad you were able to reschedule.”

I gave her a curious glance. Did she know the reason we’d rescheduled, or was she just making small talk?

“Me too. I’m ready to talk champagne,” I told Parker as we reached William’s office. His door was open, and when he heard my voice he turned from his window and smiled.

For an instant, I froze.

The sight of him in his impeccable—and no doubt incredibly expensive—suit, one hand in his pocket, all that tousled dark hair and those stormy eyes, made me lose my breath. He was so incredibly handsome and I loved that every time I saw him it was like I was seeing him for the first time. Added to the image of William himself was the view from this lofty height. All of downtown Chicago, from the river to the lake, was spread out below his windows and it was breathtaking.

I’d grown used to the starkness of William’s city design preferences. Like his penthouse, this room was clean and modern. The office was a stark white with black accents—a black leather couch, leather chairs, a settee, and a coffee table. Parker arranged coffee and water on the coffee table for us, then said, “Anything else, Mr. Lambourne?”

His gaze drifted toward her as though he’d forgotten she was even present. “That’s all for now, Parker.”

She nodded and gave me a smile as she moved past me to exit. I scooted inside, and William came to me, reaching around me to key a code into a panel that locked the office door. His heated grey eyes lingered on my face.

“That’s better.” His arm wrapped around my waist, and he pulled me close into the musky scent of him.

I loved the way he smelled, the way he felt when he held me. His mouth met mine with gentle insistence, and I immediately opened for him. He kissed me thoroughly, pressing me against the wall until I could feel the hardness of his erection against my belly. His hands stroked up and down my back, cupping my ass, molding my hips.

He pulled away and smiled down at me. He caressed my cheek, pushing a strand of hair behind my ear. “Hello, beautiful girl. I’ve been thinking about you all day. I’m so glad you’re finally here.”

“I’m not late, am I?” I said, my voice breathless. Since William’s security team had started driving me, I was almost never late to anything anymore, but I had also stopped checking the time as often.

“No, you’re not. I’m just not a patient man.” He took my hand and led me to the black leather couch. “How was the meeting with Fresh Market?” He sat down, but before I could sit beside him, he pulled me into his lap. Fortunately the skirt of my dress wasn’t narrow, and I was able to straddle him, just barely.

“Is this how you conduct all your business meetings?” I teased.

“Yes, I always have my business partners sit on my lap. It’s a negotiating technique.”

“I bet it works in your favor every time.”

His hand wandered down my back to settle on my waist. “And what does Fresh Market want you to shoot for summer?”

“Strawberries and peaches.”

His hand slid down my thigh until he reached the hem of my skirt. And then he inched underneath. “Peaches. One of my favorite fruits,” he said, sliding his hand higher up my leg to the tender flesh past the top of my thigh-high. “So ripe and juicy and,” his hand brushed against my naked sex and his eyes widened, “naughty.”

“Oops,” I said with a smile. “I may have forgotten something this morning when I got dressed.”

His hand pushed against me gently, his fingers tickling in a way that made my toes curl. “You haven’t been wearing panties all day?”

I shook my head.

“Catherine,” he said, sliding two fingers against me, teasing. “You are a very bad girl.” One finger gently pressed inside me and then another. “And you’re also very, very wet.” His thumb swirled around my clit, and I arched my neck. I was still a little sore from yesterday, but whatever he was doing with his fingers made all the hurt instantly disappear. My body was starved for him, craving the pleasure only he could give. I rocked against his nimble fingers, feeling the pressure build inside me.

“William,” I gasped.

But he stopped. He withdrew his fingers and removed his hand from under my dress. I stared at him through a haze of desire until I realized he was holding an envelope out to me.

“What’s that?” I asked.

“My offer. Open it, Catherine.”

I took a deep breath and grasped the envelope with shaky fingers. It wasn’t sealed, so I lifted the flap and peeked inside. I cleared my throat as I skimmed the contract for my services. The offer was generous, to say the least. It was too generous. I tried to hand the envelope back, but he wouldn’t take it. “It’s too much,” I said, explaining. “This is at least triple my normal rate. I can’t accept it.”

William’s eyes went from grey to blue. “But you will accept it,” he said in a tone that told me any argument would be futile. “Because you’re worth it and because it will make me very happy.”

I sighed. “I’m not going to win this one, am I?”

“No.” He leveled his gaze on me.

“Ok,” I said with a shrug. If he wanted to pay me a ridiculous amount, that was his deal. He had the money to spare. “So let’s talk about the campaign. I usually do this with paper and pen at a conference table, so I can take notes, but I suppose if I forget anything, you can remind me.”

“I have all the details in a proposal that I’ll have Parker email to you this afternoon. You won’t have to remember anything. As for the shots, that’s up to you. You’re the expert.”

“But you must have some idea of what you want, of the look or the feel of the pictures.”

“Of course. I was thinking of several images. My idea is that the main one will be a champagne bottle with its cork popping, fizz, bubbles, and cork flying up and out.”

“So a fun, energetic vibe,” I recapped.

“Yes.” He nodded, but I could tell by the look on his face that I didn’t quite have it yet. “But sexy too. This champagne is very sexy. Focus on the spurting of the champagne and that flying cork. Maybe the bottle is tilted at just the right angle.”

“A phallic look.”

He smiled. “I knew you were the right woman for the job.”

I nodded. I had plenty of experience making food look phallic. For whatever reason, food that suggested sex—or sexy body parts—seemed to sell. But I felt concerned about William’s suggested shot. I’d never done a shoot so technical before. The popping of the cork and the spray of the champagne would have to be timed just perfectly.

“What’s wrong?’ William asked, sensing my mood.

“This shoot is going to require some special effects, I think.”

“I’ll get you whatever you need.”

“I know, but I’ve never done anything like this before. What if I can’t deliver what you want? Maybe you should hire someone with more experience in this sort of photography. I really don’t want to disappoint you.”

William waved a hand, dismissing my concerns. “You are a fantastic photographer, Catherine. You’re so smart about your craft and I know you’re fearless. You used to put yourself in danger to capture the right shot. Photographing world-class surfers was way more difficult than this will be and you were amazing at that. Look at this as a challenge, an opportunity to learn something new.”

“You’re paying me an awful lot of money to learn on the job.”

“I’m paying you a lot of money because you’re damned good at what you do. No one can make food sexier on film that you can, and I have complete faith in you. And as I said, I’ll get you whatever you need—equipment, assistants, you name it.”

I turned my head from the heat of his eyes and stared out the window. I still wasn’t sure. Could I could pull it off?

“Catherine,” William said, drawing my gaze back to him. “You are brilliant. You will figure this out. Trust me. I have no doubts.”

How could I say no to that? His belief in me made
me
believe in me, so I nodded. “OK. I’ll do it.” I decided I would make this shoot work, and I’d do a damn fine job too. I never disappointed. My job was to make sure the client—who in this case was also the man I loved—was completely satisfied.

“Good.” William took the envelope from my hands. “Now that that’s settled, we can discuss what’s really important.”

“I thought that
was
the important discussion.”

William’s hand trailed over my chin and down my neck “Not every discussion requires words,” he said, outlining my breasts through the fabric of my dress. My nipples immediately tightened into hard, almost painful points.