Chapter 12
CHAPTER TWELVE
Joshua
I’d spent the entire week going through the Luca Brands pitch for Calmation.
It was good, but something was missing. Maybe it was because I was used to luxury goods, but there was a lack of sparkle and originality about our approach that had me concerned.
I didn’t want the Calmation campaign to be anything other than fantastic—for the sake of Luca Brands, but also because I wanted this campaign to reach as many parents as possible.
The more people who saw it, the more children would be helped.
I leaned back on my dining chair and looked over my laptop at the cityscape, trying to garner inspiration.
The team had looked at what was going on in the over-the-counter children’s drug market and essentially given Merdon more of what was already out there.
I wanted something different. Something better.
Something that proved they should appoint us because our experience was in luxury brands, and not despite it.
Even a long stint of Genius Time in the bath this evening hadn’t produced any breakthroughs.
That couldn’t have anything to do with the fact that Hartford hadn’t come home from her date with Tom.
Her tardiness was bothering me. And it bothered me that it was bothering me.
The two-hour mark had passed over an hour ago.
Why did I care if she stuck to the rules?
I kept telling myself it was because I wanted her advice about a tiny nugget of an idea I had about the Merdon pitch, which was true. And I wanted to see how she got on with Tom, because I was her friend, right?
After all, I was supposed to be coaching her through these dates. I’d promised.
Before she’d left, she’d tried on three outfits and given me a demonstration of how she looked standing up, walking, and sitting down in each one before I was able to give my final judgement.
She looked good in all of them. But the pale blue top looked best with her skin tone, and the neckline showed off just the right amount of cleavage.
I’d suggested she wear the green.
And that bothered me the most. Why didn’t I want her to look her best for Tom?
Yes, I found her attractive. Yes, my body seemed to have some kind of visceral reaction whenever she was too close.
And that kiss? It had been spectacular. But none of that changed the fact I wasn’t a man who got serious with women. Hartford deserved better.
A knock at my door pulled me back out of my own head. I needed to think less. And I needed to call Kelly. I’d not seen her for a few weeks. I’d been busy and . . . I’d just not had the urge to call her.
I swung open the door to find a grinning Hartford. I’d not heard the lift.
“Do you have cake for our debrief?” she asked, grinning at me.
God, she was pretty.
“Is that what we’re doing? Debriefing? Now?”
“Of course we’re debriefing.”
That’s what I liked about Hartford. Most other women would apologize for bothering me or ask me if it was okay to stop by this late. She was unapologetically in my life, and it was refreshing.
I made two espressos and slid one across the counter. “I did cookies and cream,” I said, pulling out the cake box that had been delivered earlier.
A smile unfurled on her face, and I tried to dismiss the feeling of being slightly proud I’d brought her joy. “From Dragonfly bakery? Are you kidding? I’ve heard about this place. It’s meant to be the best in London. Did you get these for me?”
“Yes, but I’ll warn you now—I have an ulterior motive.” I knew she’d love this cake. It looked like a heart attack on a plate but I’d been assured it was the best you could get. “I have some questions I want to ask you in a professional capacity, in exchange for the cake.”
“No problem. God, it looks amazing. And look—chocolate sprinkles. And what is—holy buttercream. Are those sugared violets?” She picked up one of the purple stone-like decorations and popped it in her mouth. “Oh dear sweet sponge, I’ve not had one of these in so long.”
She looked so happy. All at once, it struck me that it might have been her date with Tom that had put her in a good mood.
“I might have to eat this entire thing,” she said, gazing lovingly at the cake. “It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” She looked up at me and her pale blue eyes drew me in like a Tahitian pool straight out of Conde Nast Traveler. Yup, I definitely needed to call Kelly.
She picked up the knife and plunged into the sponge.
I watched as she carefully portioned out two slices and helped herself to dessert plates and forks. “Here.” She slid a plate to me. “If you treat Mavis like this, you’re going to have her proposing before the evening’s out.”
I watched as she slid a forkful of cake into her mouth and stilled, closing her eyes as if she was blocking out the world so she could focus on savoring the flavors.
And then my brain caught up to what she’d said.
“Mavis? Who’s Mavis?” I rounded the island and took a seat next to her. Our stools were turned at an angle so we were almost facing each other.
She opened one eye and then the other. “Your date on Sunday night.”
“You set me up with a woman called Mavis?”
“Joshua, did anyone tell you not to judge a book by its cover or a woman by her name? I was named after a town in Connecticut where my parents banged. I mean, if people judged me by my name—” Her sentence was interrupted by a second forkful of cake.
I wasn’t bothered about Mavis. It didn’t matter who she was, it was just two hours. I was pretty sure I could get through one hundred and twenty minutes with just about anyone. I was more interested in Hartford. And her date with Tom. And of course, the Merdon pitch.
“So, how was Tom?”
She leaned her head to one side. And then the other. “Okay.”
That was it? She’d been nearly an hour past our agreed time limit. Surely that meant it had been a great date? What didn’t she want to tell me? “What does okay mean?”
“Just that he was nice enough. No urge to rip his clothes off, but it was a nice way to spend an evening.”
I tried to push away the memory of her hand on my chest just before we kissed. Had she wanted to rip off my clothes? “But you were late.”
“I was talking to the guy behind the bar. He was telling me about a food bank around the corner. I think I’ll stop by this week.”
“You’re going to a food bank?” First the dreadful flat in Borehamwood, now Hartford was visiting food banks? Did she have a crack habit I wasn’t aware of?
“Yeah, I might volunteer. All in the name of expanding my horizons and impressing my boss. I figure volunteering is a halfway point between spending days at the spa and spending time at the hospital.”
I was beginning to realize that Hartford liked to be busy. But she took it to the extreme. “I suppose it is.”
“What’s great about that place is that you don’t have to commit for the same time every week, like most places. I can volunteer around my shifts, which makes so much difference.”
“You’re a good person, Hartford.” There was no doubt about it—objectively, any stranger looking at how she spent her time would say the same thing. And that was an inspiration for me to do better at the Calmation campaign.
“That’s a nice thing to say. You’re a good person too.”
Was I? I wrote checks for charities but I couldn’t remember when I last spent time doing something altruistic apart from helping my friends, which didn’t exactly count.
But there was no doubt Hartford was truly good.
And clever. And beautiful. “I’m trying to be.
Actually, you’ve been a bit of an influence on me, truth be told. ”
She straightened her back. “I have?”
I nodded. “Yeah, my client has bought a pharma company and want me to pitch.”
“A pharma company?” She looked concerned, like I’d just told her I’d be wrestling with alligators.
“Yeah, and instead of being pissed off that I have to try to understand something that’s not luxury brands, I’m really enjoying it. It’s refreshing to be able to try to help people. It’s energizing.”
She frowned. “Big pharma doesn’t have a reputation for being altruistic.”
“Right? That’s what I thought, too. But the company I’m pitching for is all about trying to make medicines more affordable for people who need them.”
Her frown seemed to have set on her face. “Which pharma company are you pitching to?”
I shook my head. “It’s totally confidential, but these are the good guys. And it feels great to be on their side.”
Her frown melted into a shy smile and she took another forkful of cake. I watched as she chewed and swallowed. “I like that I’m a good influence on you.” Her voice had softened, bringing to mind her breathy whisper just before I’d kissed her.
I shook my head, trying to refocus. “Can I take up some of your free time and pick your brain about kids taking medicine?”
“What do you need to know?”
“As a kids’ doctor, you must have to prescribe medication. Do you have a problem with getting the children to actually take it? What happens if they refuse?”
A grin unraveled on her face like I’d just paid her the biggest compliment.
“It can be a problem. Obviously, a lot depends on their age. If they’re old enough, it’s best to discuss it and tell them what the medicine is for and explain that it will make them better.
But sometimes that doesn’t work or they’re too young.
In that case, medicines can be mixed in with food or drink and disguised. ”
“Does that ever change the effectiveness of the drug?” I asked. The idea I’d had was to change the current form of the drug from a pill to a sweet—some kind of gummy bear or something. The drug was there to help children, and they should feel good about taking it.
“Depends on the drug.” She paused and sliced off a forkful of cake. “You’d have to talk to your client. What kind of drug is it?” I didn’t get a chance to answer before she rolled her eyes. “I suppose you can’t tell me.”
“Sorry.”
“I don’t think pharma companies should have brands and marketing,” she said. “The government should ban it. Medicine should be medicine.”
“That’s probably true. At least this company and drug we’re pitching for is genuinely trying to do good,” I said. “It’s not the typical big pharma.”
She rolled her eyes. “I hope not.”
Eric had sent over a ton of background on Merdon and on Calmation.
What they were doing was really impressive.
Luca Brands was a step closer to helping them help children and parents.
Talking with Hartford confirmed my suspicion that my task now was to make the drug appeal to children, and by extension, the parents who no longer faced a fight to get the medicine down.
It might just be the sparkle we needed to make Eric realize Luca Brands could handle the Merdon account.
Hartford’s phone buzzed on the counter between us. “It’s Tom,” she said, her eyes lighting up. She was excited to hear from him. And that was good, right? I just had to ignore the churn in my gut.
She read the text and laughed.
“What?” I asked.
“He says, ‘Would love to see you again. Perhaps we can share some cake sometime soon?’”
“Well, he knows how to impress you.”
“What do I say?” she asked. “We didn’t negotiate our deal beyond first dates.”
“This isn’t just about our deal. It’s about you . . . extending your social circle. If you like the guy, say yes.”
Our eyes locked and for a second, I wanted to tell her to text that she wasn’t interested. I wanted to sweep her up into my arms and kiss her over and over.
Which was exactly why a second date was an excellent idea.
“I’m not sure if I liked him. I mean, yes, he was nice enough. I’m just not a people-person. You know?”
“No, I don’t know. You’ve made friends with the people on the desk downstairs, with some guy who works at a food bank.
You attract all sorts of people. Is Tom someone you want to attract?
” I’d not picked Tom with any intent. I’d promised to find a date for Hartford and my secretary’s brother was available.
But now we were talking about it, I wondered what kind of man Hartford would be happy with.
Probably someone who did lots of altruistic things.
Someone who worked for Greenpeace, or another doctor maybe.
Even if I did do relationships—which I didn’t—Hartford should be with someone better suited to her.
“It’s been a long time. What if he wants to kiss me? Sleep with me?”
“You don’t do anything you don’t want to do.”
“You’re an excellent kisser,” she said, her eyes flicking down to my lips and then back up again.
My jaw tightened and I tried to mentally bat away the images I had of holding her, pressing my lips to hers, breathing in her sweet scent. Every time I thought I’d created some space between us, she said something like that. “What can I say? I like to set the bar high.”
“Don’t go using your dimple on me. You know what it does to me.”
My dimple? “No, I don’t know, but I’m thinking I’d like to.”
Her fork fell to her plate with a clatter and she slid off her stool to stand in front of me. Was that an invitation? “Good, God, Joshua. No wonder women worship you. Everything you say suggests hot, sweaty sex.”
I laughed. “It does?”
Before she answered, she headed to the door. “I’m going to have to leave now. If I stay another five seconds, I’m going to be dry humping your leg and trying to kiss you.”
I watched as she gave me one of her exaggerated waves and left.
I was grateful she’d gone because I’d been hoping she’d stay.