Chapter Two
The placard on the door does indeed read Alexandra Reese, and not Alexander. I can’t believe my mistake; I poured hours upon hours of research into the company, and never once did they mention a daughter.
Great, now my hands are sweating even more than usual. What am I going to do? My entire presentation is geared towards a sixty-something old man and not a woman in her thirties. Sure, I can salvage the projections, but everything else is going to have to be improvised.
I grip my suitcase and knock.
This account could cement my place in the company and pull me from the hell of being the one they bring to complete the documentation, but you know, no pressure.
“Come in,” a husky feminine voice replies.
With a deep breath, I open the door.
Alexandra stands, as tall and broad a minotaur as her father, her attention still snagged on the folder open on her desk, and I’m hit with the biggest bout of bi-panic I have ever experienced in my entire life.
She has short white and tan fur with a slightly blunted muzzle and a gold ring in her left nostril.
Dirty blonde hair, short along the sides, hangs effortlessly over her two short charcoal horns.
A white button-down stretches across her wide shoulders, showing off her trim muscular waist before tucking into black trousers.
“Katrina,” she says, her soulful brown eyes crinkling as she reaches out her hand. “It’s nice to meet you.”
There’s a jolt of electricity as our hands touch, settling deep in my stomach.
“Thanks for having me, Alexandra. You can call me Kitty,” I stammer, my mouth going dry. What am I saying? “I’m excited to discuss all the doors Hodgins it had its heyday in the 90s and has been going toe to toe with social media marketers while other agencies have closed their doors.”
Alex goes silent.
Fuck, I might have ruined it, but she said she wanted the truth. I might as well go all the way.
I lean forward and crush the index cards in my hand.
“The most important part is your story, and it’s a great one.
A third-generation corn farm in a town being left behind by the rapid growth of the surrounding cities.
Your father’s decision to shift your focus to popcorn production and bring manufacturing jobs back to the community was truly inspiring. It’s a story I’d be honored to tell.”
She blinks, then glances at her watch. “It’s getting late.”
“Of course.” I shake my head and grab my briefcase. “I don’t want to take up more of your time. We can discuss—”
“Do you have plans for dinner?”
The question is like an arrow to the chest. Direct hit. “What?”
Alex smiles. “I’d like to take you out to dinner and hear a bit more, maybe some of your story if you’d indulge me. I promise it’ll beat takeout alone in your hotel. Where are they having you stay? The place off 46?”
“I—um.” Beth’s words echo in my thoughts. Say yes to a few things. Be adventurous. “Dinner would be great.”
There’s nothing more adventurous than saying yes to dinner with a potential client I find incredibly attractive. I’ve likely already tanked this meeting, so what’s a dinner on the company credit card? They need a little payback after sending me into this labyrinth.
“Great,” she replies, her eyes flitting down my form as I stand.
It happens so quickly I’m almost sure I’m imagining things, though my body responds, lighting up from head to toe. Now I’m going to have to gather the strength to walk out of this office without looking like a baby giraffe taking her first steps.
She presses a couple of buttons on her phone and holds the receiver to her ear, “I’m heading out; can you call Starlight and see if they can get me a table? Yeah, for two. A booth as usual. Thanks, Sydney.” Hanging up with a click, she turns her attention back to me. “Are you ready?”
No. “Yeah.” I say with a smile, earning myself one in response.
Be adventurous. I repeat over and over in my head as Alex leads me out of her office; her palm a ghost at the small of my back.
Fuck.