Shine Your Love on Me (5 page)

“Busy tonight?”

She stared at him. “Do you want to come by?”
There was a note of hope in her voice.

“Yeah. Having dinner with Pete and Jerry
tonight. Can I see you after?”

“Spending the night?”

“It’s during the week. You know the
drill.”

“Yeah. I forgot. Okay. Why not?”

He shot her a lascivious grin and disappeared
as fast as he had appeared. Brooke walked home, trying not to think
about her day. Chip Melton was overly cheerful, but ignorant about
how great advertising was created and what would work for his
client. She could see that the pro bono account, a charity, didn’t
mean anything to the agency. That work wouldn’t be worth even
putting on her resume. She was running in place, career-wise.

She ran a bath with lilac salts. Soaking in
the tub relaxed her. She anticipated a steamy time with Lloyd.
Slipping into a turquoise silk robe, Brooke poured herself a glass
of wine. She reheated spaghetti and meatball leftovers from Bess’s
and ate while she watched the news.

Classical music always calmed her down. She
put on Vivaldi’s “Four Seasons,” sat back on the sofa, and propped
up her feet while she waited. At nine o’clock, her buzzer rang. She
let Lloyd up and smiled for the first time in days.

He burst through the door brimming with news
about the account. He pulled out papers and rambled on about ad
campaigns, until she stopped him.

“Wait a minute. Did you come here wanting my
help with Lady Gray?”

“Of course.”

“And nothing else?”

“A little nookie on the side?”

She laughed. “You’re something else. I’m not
on that account. I’m not going to do my job for that weenie, Chip,
during the day, and then work for you in the evening. I’m off that
piece of business, Lloyd.”

“I couldn’t help it, Brooke. I didn’t want to
take you off. I need your advice, your opinion. You know this
account better than anyone. Brian’s okay, but he’s not you.”

“Really? You don’t say.” She pushed to her
feet and placed her fists on her hips.

“Don’t be mad at me.”

“You’ve been working for weeks on this,
without a word to me. You’ve shut me out. I haven’t seen you,
talked to you, for three weeks. And we work in the same company.”
I don’t want to break up with him, do I? Why am I having this
conversation?

“You’ve got to understand. This business is
brutal. I’m just trying to survive. We’ve got something…special.
Don’t ruin it, now.” He stepped closer to her. Snaking his arm
around her waist, he pulled her up against him and bent his head to
kiss her neck. “Come on, hot girl. Forget the business. Give me
some sugar.”

Brooke hesitated for a moment before she gave
in. She tilted her chin up to receive his kiss. His lips were soft
and coaxing at first then hard and demanding. Her knees bent as she
lay down on the sofa. Lloyd unbuckled his pants before dropping
them and his boxers. He was already erect. He yanked off his tie
and tossed it on a chair.

“I’ve missed this…you,” he said, leaning over
to open her robe. He stared at her body then closed his hands over
her breasts. She unbuttoned his shirt.

Brooke warmed at the feel of his hands on
her, but chilled at his hard expression of lust. In the past, his
touch, desire in his eyes, and a whisper in her ear could get her
juices flowing. Tonight, he was rough, distant. There was no
laughter on his lips or in his gaze. He wanted her as a man wants a
woman, but not with love.

He nipped her breast.

“Ouch!”

“Sorry, love. It’s been a while. I forgot how
sensitive you are.”

“I’m not sensitive, you’re too rough. That
hurt.”

He stopped her words by closing his mouth
over hers. Lloyd knew all the buttons to push and before long,
Brooke had stopped thinking altogether.

“Ready?”

“God, yes,” she breathed.

Lloyd repositioned her legs and slipped
inside her. He pumped hard and fast, bringing her to a climax
quickly. He followed.

“Great. As always,” he said, smiling at
her.

Brooke traced his lower lip with her finger.
Good, not great.
She pushed his locks back from his forehead
and ran her palm down his chest, through the blond hair there,
stopping at his abs. “Still working out?”

“When I get the chance.” He circled her
nipple with his thumb as he sat back on his haunches.

Brooke pushed up on her elbows, and Lloyd got
out of her way. She padded off to the bathroom. When she returned,
he had his pants on, but his shirt still hung open.

“Baby, tell me. You had a special take on
positioning Lady Gray’s for seniors. What was the strategy?”

Brooke sighed.
Yeah. I’m gonna help
you.
She slid her arms into her robe and tightened the sash
before sitting cross-legged on the sofa.

“Seniors have less overall income, but more
disposable income, because their kids are grown. So, they shouldn’t
be ignored. They’re more likely to spend money on something they
consider a treat for themselves.”

Lloyd pulled a pen from the breast pocket of
his suit jacket and a pad from his briefcase. He took notes as she
spoke. She sighed as she glanced at his face, so eager to have her
thoughts.
I’ll help you. But this is the last time. Gotta have
some pride here.

In an hour, he was gone. Brooke thought she’d
feel better having spent time with him, but the opposite was true.
Restless, she paced in her small apartment. At midnight, she picked
up a book and read until she fell asleep.

In the morning, she dressed and walked to
work, thinking of ways to let Lloyd down easy. Their relationship
was over. Her feelings for him had evaporated with her trust.
Use me once, your fault, use me twice, mine.
Determination
to end it grew in her heart.
I’ll find someone else. I’ll get
another job. I will prevail. He’s not the only man, and Gibbon
& Walters isn’t the only ad agency.

A sense of calm washed through her. Her smile
to the receptionist was genuine, and the confident stride was real.
The first thing she did was update her résumé and send it to her
private email. Next, she checked
Craigslist
for jobs.
If
Lloyd finds me doing this—I don’t care.

At lunchtime, she spied him sitting alone,
eating a sandwich at his desk. She entered and closed the door
behind her. “We have to talk.”

“Uh oh. What did I do now?” He took a bite
then put his ham and cheese down.

Brooke took the chair opposite him. “I think
we should break up.”

“What?” He rose up slightly.

“Yep. This isn’t doing it for me,
anymore.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, we should stop seeing each other.
It’s clear we’re not in love. And I don’t want to be your booty
call.”

“You’re much more than that, Brooke.”

“Am I? A booty call and marketing advice.
Gee. How romantic.”

“I’m sorry. It’s just that I’m kinda
overwhelmed with this new account—”

“And your new client. Are you at her house
servicing her every night?”

“What? Just because we spent a weekend
together doesn’t mean I’m her
boy
.”

“It’s enough. Enough for me. Of you and of G
& W.”

“You’re leaving?”

“I’m looking. I wish you well, Lloyd. Much
success on the account. I hope you find a woman who meets your
needs. You’re not meeting mine.” Brooke pushed up out of the chair
and left a speechless Lloyd.

She smiled at the strength coursing through
her veins. Even an email from Chip with a new to-do list didn’t
upset her. Another one arrived from Pete Walters, setting up a
meeting with her for the end of the week. She wondered why.
I
hate waiting. Hope it’s not bad news.

She considered asking Lloyd what Pete wanted,
but she didn’t want to face his anger or coldness.
He can be
vengeful. Best to let him cool off for a couple days.
At the
end of the day, Brooke walked home, whistling. She’d found a couple
of job openings and had sent in her résumé and a cover letter.

She took a path parallel to the park,
enjoying the early June fresh air and light green leaves on the
trees. A few flowerbeds caught her eye as she strolled up Central
Park West. Fire engine red mixed with grape-popsicle purple in a
tulip bed.

The air was so pleasant she decided to take
Freddy and Ginger on a walk after dinner. She trudged up the
stairs. A letter taped to her door startled her. She ripped it off
and went inside.

Another eviction notice! Damn!
She
poured a glass of Cabernet while she dialed her cousin Frank, a
lawyer.

“Frank, I got another eviction notice taped
to my door today. What the hell? I asked you to take care of
this.”

“Hey, Brooke, paying business comes first. He
has every right to evict you, by the way.”

“I pay my rent. And on time.”

“Any landlord can claim any apartment for a
relative anytime he wants. And that’s what this asshole is doing.
You can fight it and delay, but you’re only postponing the
inevitable.”

“I love my apartment. I want to fight
it.”

“Then come up with some money, Brooke. It’s
not like you’re not working.”

“Do you know how much rent I pay?”

“Then I’d think you’d be relieved to move out
and find a cheaper place.”

“I love it here. The apartment is fine, and
I’m a block from the park.”

“Look, I’d love to help you, but you’ll have
to wait. I’ve got people with real problems and money. They gotta
come first. I have a family to feed.”

“Thanks a lot.” She clicked off her cell.
I’m not going to think about it now.
She switched on the
television and heated up leftovers. An episode of her favorite
reality show, Movie Designers, came on. She sat back, ate, and
cleared her mind.

* * * *

Brooke dressed conservatively to meet with
the president of the company, Pete Walters. He was in his late
forties, attractive, gray at the temples, and dressed in a suit
tailored to fit his slim build perfectly. Pete wasn’t tall, maybe
five foot nine, but he had a presence and projected confidence.
People turned to look when he entered a room.

She stopped at his secretary.

“Go right in. He’s expecting you.”

Brooke’s palms began to sweat, and her pulse
kicked up. She entered and took a chair facing his desk.

“Miss Felson, I understand congratulations
are in order?”

“What for?”

“For being an integral part of the team that
won the Lady Gray account.”

“Oh, yes. Thank you.”

“Lloyd Simmons speaks very highly of you.”
Pete stood and walked to his private coffee machine.

Why should I be embarrassed? I deserve
Lloyd’s praise.
Still, she sensed color in her cheeks.

“Care for a cup?” Pete prepared one for
himself.

“Thanks, but I just finished one.” She
shifted in her seat.

He strolled over to her. “He said you added
many fresh ideas.”

“I did. Some.” Tension gripped her stomach as
he moved closer.

“That’s not what I heard. In fact, I heard
that Lloyd finds you indispensable both in and out of the
office.”

“Now, wait a second! My personal life—”
Brooke pushed to her feet.

Pete held up his hand. “I’m not criticizing.
That’s none of my business, of course. But now that you’re working
with Chip, I assume your…uh…close association with Lloyd is
over.”

Brooke felt the heat in her face intensify.
What the hell?
“I don’t feel comfortable discussing that
with you.”

“Of course. I shouldn’t even have asked. My
apologies.”

He drew nearer. Brooke could hear her pulse
beating in her ears. Her mouth went dry, and her legs felt a bit
wobbly. Pete walked right up to her and pushed a strand of hair
from her face with one finger. His touch made her blood run
cold.

“But if you’re free, might you consider
taking on another…close association? I know you’re on the Greenleaf
account right now, but as soon as a new piece of business comes in,
you’ll be reassigned.”

Brooke moved toward the window. “What a
spectacular view, Mr. Walters.”

“Please, call me Pete. And when you’re
standing there, I must agree, the view is stunning.”

Brooke swallowed, unable to get down the lump
in her throat. She sensed him approaching, even though he made no
sound on the plush carpet, like a snake slithering through high
grass.

“You are lovely. Beautiful,” he whispered,
planting a kiss on her neck.

A shiver of revulsion ran up her spine.
He’s twenty years older than I am and married.
“Please, Mr.
Walters,” she said, moving away from him.

“Have dinner with me tonight. Maybe we can
get better acquainted. Then, I’ll know more about where you belong
in the company.”

“I don’t think so. You’re married.”

“Why should that interfere with our getting
to know each other better?”

“No.” Brooke turned to face him.
Stop
being afraid and stand up for yourself.

His brown eyes dropped their drowsy, bedroom
look and flashed at her. “Don’t be hasty. You might regret it.”

“Is that a threat?” The heat of embarrassment
quickly turned to anger.

“Not a threat, exactly. But you do know that
any personnel clocking too much time on a pro bono account adds a
financial burden to the agency…”

“Are you threatening to fire me?”

“Drop this innocent act, Brooke! You know
damn well no one works full-time on a pro bono account.”

“What exactly do you mean?”

“Oh, come on! We’re keeping you at Lloyd’s
request. I promised him I would, for a month or two. If you
cooperate with me, I could make that longer, much longer.”

Anger turned to outrage. “You mean I’m fired
if I don’t sleep with you?”