Love Script (27 page)

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Authors: Tiffany Ashley

BOOK: Love Script
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CHAPTER
11

It had been a month now, and Laney had not heard from Nick. Aside from the check couriered to her home the day of her return, she had neither seen nor heard from him. There was word around the office that he was out of town on business, but she didn’t believe it. Nick was keeping his distance.

Whether he was doing it because she had said so or of his own accord, she was unsure.

The only pleasure she got was watching Mary-Knight deal with her promotion. She’d been in Mary-Knight’s office when she’d received the cal from Mr.

Sinclair, tel ing her that Laney was now the Co-Vice President of Art Direction and that al accounts were to be split between them. Of course, Mary-Knight played nice while on the phone with her boss, but afterward, she and Laney had a screaming match that would be gossiped about for years. Mary-Knight accused her of pitching ideas to the executive team behind her back, and Laney listed the number of times Mary-Knight had proven herself incompetent.

At the end of it, Mary-Knight ignored Laney, refusing to teach her her new responsibilities. As a result, Laney had spent the past month working sixty-hour weeks, learning the hard way how to do her job. So submerged was she with work that she hadn’t had time to deal with Rob effectively. Danny had informed her that Rob had been snooping in her apartment the entire time she was out of town. He had even knocked on Danny’s door, demanding information. As a result, Rob was angry with her; their arguments fluctuated between him begging her to come back and reprimanding her for skipping town.

Her life became a tiresome routine. She went to work an hour early to soak in as much as possible, ate lunch in her office and was among the last to leave for the day. When she arrived home, Danny was waiting for her with a glass of wine and a sympathetic ear. As always, he asked about Nick.

“Did you see him today? Did he cal you? Check your answering machine, Laney.”

Her answer would always be the same. “No.” This didn’t deter her nosy neighbor. Danny piled on more questions until he’d exhausted himself working up some grand romantic theory for Nick’s actions.

Laney would pretend not to listen but couldn’t help repeating Danny’s words in her head before she went to bed at night.

At nine o’clock on the dot, Rob cal ed and poured out another sob story, hoping she would forgive him.

His phone cal s always began the same way. “Did you like the flowers?”

Laney always responded, “Yes, Rob. Please stop sending them.”

During these times, Danny hovered about watching television, pretending not to eavesdrop. As soon as she coaxed Rob to hang up the phone, Danny would get the update, replaying the conversation for his enjoyment. There was no love lost between the two of them so Danny openly reveled in Rob’s predicament. At times, he seemed downright giddy. Laney could tel it was a struggle for him not to jump up and do cartwheels in her tiny living room.

Final y, when she was al talked out and drained from a long day, she bid Danny goodnight. He’d kiss her on the cheek and sail out of the room. She’d lock the door behind her, take a quick shower and crawl into bed and obsess over Nick. She missed him.

She missed talking to him, being near him, sleeping beside him. Life without Nick felt empty and unwelcoming. Playing the part of his wife for ten days definitely had its withdrawal effects. The tan lines where her rings used to be seemed like they would never fade, reminding her just how scarred Nick had left her. So life continued on for Laney. Work al day, deal with Rob, update Danny, and dream about Nick. She knew it was pathetic, but it was her existence for the time being.

❧ ❧ ❧

It was another long day at work, and Laney was accepting another bouquet of flowers when her phone beeped. A female voice flowed through. “Ms.

Parks, we are preparing for an executive meeting.

Your presence is required.”

“Thank you, Linda.”

Linda Goldman was Nick’s secretary and right-hand woman. An ancient relic bequeathed to him by his father, Linda was everyone’s liaison to Nick. No one got close to him without her al owing it.

Fortunately for Laney, the sixty-something executive assistant liked her. Or at least she was a little less hostile than she was toward the rest of the management staff. She appeared to go out of her way to make sure Laney was aware of important events. As it was, Linda’s main task appeared to be gathering the team for meetings. Laney was used to hearing Linda’s voice cal ing for meetings. It seemed the executive team she was now a part of had a lot of meetings. They were usual y short, thirty minutes at the most, but there was no limit to their frequency.

Laney picked up her receiver and dialed a number. She dreaded making this cal , but it had to be done. The minute she slipped in her resolve, he would think she was warming up to him again.

“Lawson Firm. How may I direct your cal ?”

“Hi, Mimi. This is Laney. Is Rob available?” The voice brightened. “Hi, Laney. Hold on one sec; let me get him for you.”

Rob’s deep-timbered voice quickly answered.

“Hi, baby, did you get my flowers?”

She massaged her temples. “Rob, how many times do I have to tel you this? Stop sending me flowers. I’m tired of tipping the delivery boy.”

“It’s cool, baby. I added the gratuity in the bil .”

“Are you listening to me? Stop sending the flowers. I’m just going to throw them in the trash.”

“I don’t believe that. You love flowers.”

“Don’t send any more,” she hissed. “I’m not going to tel you this again.”

“That’s what you said yesterday and the day before that, but I’l make a deal with you. I’l stop sending the flowers if you have dinner with me.”

“I’m not having dinner with you.”

He sighed. “Baby, we’l get through this. Just give me a chance to talk to you. One hour.

That’s al I’m asking.”

“No, Rob. Leave me alone; I mean it.” She slammed down the phone. The man was going to send her to the loony bin.

Almost as soon as she’d replaced the phone to its cradle, the speaker beeped.

“Ms. Parks, are you coming?” Linda sounded annoyed.

“Sorry, Linda. I’m on my way.” She would have apologized again, but the connection had already been broken. Laney grabbed her tablet with notes from the last meeting and made her way to the conference room. Hopeful y, this wouldn’t take long.

She had a lot of projects in the works, and since she was learning as she went, it took longer than necessary. She was already adapting to an executive lifestyle.

In the beginning, she used to fret that every time she went to the conference room, she would be confronted by Nick. As it was, Nick had not been present at any meetings, since he was “out of town.” She was later informed that he rarely, if ever, attended any of the meetings. If he was there, it usual y meant there was a big problem. That knowledge eased her fears. She wasn’t ready to deal with him at work yet.

Laney was the last to join the team and was therefore the last to be shocked to see Nicolas Sinclair seated at the head of the table. She could hardly believe it. There he was, tanned and gorgeous. She stumbled, caught herself and tried her damnedest to erase the look of pure hunger from her face. Quickly, she made her way to the last available seat on numb legs. Everyone had pained expressions on their faces, al wondering what had happened that was so bad it had lured the big boss to one of their meetings.

Linda whispered in Nick’s ear for several minutes before he waved her aside and looked down the table. The women in the room made a soft col ective gasp when Nick tugged on his tie with his left hand. They instantly noticed the pale mark on his ring finger. Laney slowly slid her hands under the table, lest someone notice she had the same mark.

Nick took charge of the meeting with great finesse. He had a natural presence about him that engaged people. He spoke with the confidence of one who was used to people watching him. Laney was a little unsettled by it al . It was the first time she’d ever actual y seen him in action. He knew his stuff.
Not just a pretty face, after all
, Laney thought.

Nick swiftly corrected the Copy Manager for presenting a flawed ad layout. The detail Nick had immediately jumped on had been so minuscule, it had taken the poor guy several precious seconds to recover and attempt to defend himself. But by this time, it was no use; the damage had already been done. He returned to his seat, the tips of his ears burning bright red with embarrassment.

Effortlessly, Nick moved on from the incident by addressing open issues and asking for updates on just about every project. Final y, he asked for specifics on the Moore account. Mary-Knight quickly announced that Laney was supposed to be handling it. What she failed to mention to the team was that she’d never told Laney she was responsible for the account. Laney had not viewed the file since leaving on vacation, so when Nick turned his intense blue gaze on her, she had little to say. He made a point to mention that he already knew her information and was looking for a more current update. Not wanting to be publicly admonished in front of the team like the Copy Manager, who was stil avoiding eye contact with anyone, Laney surrendered by saying she would have a ful report on his desk this afternoon. Nick stared her down and then made a note on his legal pad. Everyone around the table gave her the look of death, and Laney suffered the rest of the meeting in shame. Before releasing the group, Nick turned to Laney.

“Ms. Parks, I would like a word with you in my office.”

Laney groaned as the team walked out. Mary-Knight laughed outright as she exited the room. Nick got up and walked to his office, leaving her to figure out that she should fol ow him.

Once in his office, he asked her to close the door. It was a huge paneled room that she had never seen before in the entire three years she had been employed at Sinclair Corp. It was interesting to see where he worked. Sharing a stateroom with him for a couple of days had often made her wonder what his home looked like. Seeing his office was like a smal peek into his real life. The richly decorated room with its massive windows was appealing, yet lacked warmth. It was an eerie effect.

He did not say anything at first, just looked at her.

Final y, he lowered his eyes and sat behind his desk.

“How have you been?” His voice was soft, non-threatening, not like the voice he’d used in the conference room moments ago.

“I’m fine.” Her voice was clipped.

His gaze flicked over her before he turned his attention to his computer screen. “The Moore account is an important project. What happened in there?”

“Mary-Knight didn’t tel me—” She stopped herself from sounding like a child. “I didn’t know I had the Moore account. I’l work on it immediately.” He nodded. “I’l need that report today.” She nodded her head, hating the thought of being reprimanded by him.

“We haven’t landed the Zelman account yet, but I’m confident we wil . Overal , I feel that you fulfil ed your part of our agreement. Congratulations on your promotion.” His words sounded hol ow, empty of any emotion. “As I said, Zelman has not signed a contract with Sinclair Corp yet, which is the reason you were only promoted as Co-VP of Art Direction. I felt it was fair.” He looked up at her as if to see if she had something to say. When she remained silent, he continued. “Right now, Zelman is comparing our services against Cooper Wright’s agency. When we final y get the account, I’m assigning Mary-Knight to the project.”

Laney had to bite her tongue to keep from screaming. Mary-Knight would only delegate the work to someone else in the group and take credit for it. It was so unfair! But as much as she hated the situation, she knew why Nick was doing it. The team would have to work closely with Zelman, and it was impossible for Laney to show up for a team meeting.

Nick went on. “You are, under no circumstances, al owed to touch the Zelman account. I know this may seem a bit harsh, but we both know the reason.

However, I would like for you to sit in on the brainstorming sessions. Since you know Zelman personal y, you may be able to help steer Mary-Knight’s group in the right direction.”
Great
, she thought,
I’m still doing her work
.

“That is al .” Nick turned back to his computer screen. “I just wanted to keep you abreast of the situation.”

“Thank you, Mr. Sinclair.”

He looked up at her, his discomfort with her referring to his formal title apparent. He opened his mouth as if to say just that, but there was a beep from his phone before his secretary’s voice broke the tense silence.

“Mr. Sinclair, you have Heidi Peterson on line five. She says she’s a close friend of yours.” Nick stared at the phone and then back at Laney.

She met his gaze with icy disgust.

“Thank you, Linda,” he said stiffly. “I’l take the cal .” He looked up at Laney and in a curt tone said,

“I’l be waiting for the Moore report.”
That’s it? He was dismissing her like that?

Laney didn’t give him a chance to rebuff her again. Turning quickly on her heels, she left the room. She would not embarrass herself by crying in front of him. No, she wouldn’t give him the pleasure.

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