Best Of Makeovers Bundle Part 72

As if sensing he was about to win her over, he pushed just a little harder. "Come on, Jane, I know you can do this. I need you to do this."

How could she resist that? How could she sit there, listen to Reid all but beg her, and still protest at all?

She stood, forcing herself to meet his gaze without flinching, and said, "I'll do what I can."

But even as she said the words she knew that she would do more than just "what she could". She would do whatever it took. She wouldn't let Reid down, even if it meant transforming herself back into Sasha the Cat. Even if it meant working with him every day. Even if it meant resisting the temptation he represented.

Frankly, she didn't know what scared her more. The fear of letting him down or the fear of letting him get too close.

CHAPTER NINE.

CHOOSING Jane to work on the Tres Bien pitch had seemed like a logical decision. After all, she really was better than anyone else at Forester+Blake when it came to s.e.xy, innovative ideas.

Choosing to head up the project himself had also seemed logical. Reid had realized what he'd told Jane was true. And she just might be the one creative person at Forester+Blake that he was comfortable working with.

With Matt still pressuring him to work more with the creatives, working with Jane seemed like the perfect solution all around.

What he just didn't get was how two completely logical decisions had come back to bite him in the a.s.s.

It was all he could do to keep his hands off her. She seemed to have no such problems. Ever since the day they'd spoken in his office, she'd been coolly polite, but distant.

He wished it didn't bother him, but it did. Getting involved with Jane was still a very bad idea. Never mind the thrill he got from just being with her. It was that same reckless glee that had gotten him into trouble so many times in the past. He was still her boss, and, for him, Forester+Blake would always come first.

And to make matters worse, he couldn't help wondering, did she want the real him or only the fantasy?

In the end, none of that mattered, because he still wanted her.

As he made his way to the conference room for the first of his meetings with Jane and Pete he tried to convince himself her disinterest was for the best. If she could maintain her distance, then so could he.

He'd been on the phone with a client, so he was the last to make it into the meeting. Audrey had been in earlier to set up a tray of cookies and m.u.f.fins and to take everyone's coffee orders.

Seated throughout the room were the handful of other employees he'd invited to the meeting-the meeting which would show them just how wrong they'd been about Jane.

Reid noticed all of this as soon as he walked in the door, but it was Jane who captured and held his attention. She was at the front of the room fussing with some drawings set up on the easel. Ever since their pep talk the other day, she'd been coming to work dressed in a manner that was both provocative and professional. Very Sasha.

She wore her hair in the fussy style she seemed to favor lately. He actually would have preferred something a little more relaxed, but the way she was dressed made up for it. Today she wore a slim black skirt that ended several inches above her knees, paired with a vibrant red wraparound s.h.i.+rt that fastened with a bow just below her left breast.

As he settled into a chair at the far end of the conference table, he couldn't help staring at that bow on her blouse. Christmas presents had bows. Bright red ones, just like the one on her s.h.i.+rt.

Watching the presentation, he imagined what it would be like to unwrap Jane.

It'd be so simple. Tug on one of the ties and that bow would pull right apart. Peel back that fabric and there would be his present. Jane's fabulous b.r.e.a.s.t.s. b.r.e.a.s.t.s he hadn't seen nearly enough of the night they'd almost had s.e.x.

He struggled to concentrate on her words as she talked to the group about the strategy they'd come up with, but all he could think about was Jane's b.r.e.a.s.t.s. How they'd felt in his hands and how she'd arched into him, moaning deeply when he'd kissed them.

"So," Jane was saying as he tried, once again, to focus his attention on her words, "are there any questions before we show you what we've been working on?"

In the silence that followed, she looked at everyone in the room except him. Maybe he still made her nervous. Or maybe, like himself, she just had trouble concentrating when they were together.

After a pause, she continued. "As you all remember, we decided to build our pitch on the concept of antic.i.p.ation."

Her words elicited a snort of derision from the a.s.shole, but Jane sent him a look so dismissive and superior he quieted down.

"Since antic.i.p.ation is-as they say-half the fun, our commercial will encourage women to wear Tres Bien lingerie as a way of building the antic.i.p.ation for their-" she hesitated only an instant "-romantic encounters."

At her cue, Pete removed the cover sheet from the easel to reveal the artwork beneath.

The "shot" showed a man and woman together in a crowded elevator. The tagline below the drawing read: "If antic.i.p.ation is half the fun..."

Another shot of the man and woman, the man leaning in to whisper something in her ear.

"If waiting for something makes you want it even more..."

The couple leaving the elevator. The doors closing behind them. Alone in the hotel hallway, they kiss.

"If knowing he wants you makes you want him even more..."

Inside the hotel room, the man removes the woman's jacket to reveal the Tres Bien bra underneath.

"Then what are you doing to build the excitement?"

By the time Pete showed the last of the pictures, the room was silent, the crowd clearly impressed by the work. It took a second for the spell to break. Then, one by one, people offered comments.

Reid said nothing. He kept his gaze focused on Jane, willing her to look at him, but her eyes didn't so much as dart in his direction. Obviously, she dreaded his reaction. And why wouldn't she? She'd just displayed their date for the whole office to see.

Oh, this time, she'd been more careful. Neither of the roughly sketched people in the drawings resembled either of them, but he'd have to be an idiot not to recognize the situation.

He tried to muster some indignation or anger. But he couldn't manage it. Seeing those pictures, he couldn't help but remember the events that had inspired them. The antic.i.p.ation he'd felt standing beside Jane. The endless elevator trip up to her floor. The aching desire to pull her into his arms. To kiss her. To make her his, even though he knew he couldn't.

Worst of all, Jane made him reckless. And, in this case at least, she'd done it in front of some of his most important employees. All of whom, it seemed, were waiting to hear his opinion of the ad.

Matt had leaned forward and propped his elbows on the table. "Well, Reid, what do you think?"

He looked from one face to the next and saw the same thing in every expression. They all loved it.

Only Jane looked unsure. But now, at least, she was meeting his gaze. The uncertainty he saw in her eyes tugged at something deep inside him. He didn't have the heart to give her anything but praise. And that worried him, too.

"It's brilliant," he said, finally, as he shoved back his chair to stand. "I want to see a polished version by Wednesday. Pete, use whatever resources you need to make that happen. In the meantime, Jane, I want you to start working on a backup idea, just in case this one doesn't work out." To the rest of the group, he said, "We've still got a lot to do, so let's get back to work."

And then, because there were so many other things he wanted to say to her, but couldn't, he left the conference room.

Matt caught up with him just outside his office. "What was that all about?"

"I don't know what you mean."

"To start with, you were barely paying attention in there."

Reid shrugged out of his jacket and hung it on the coatrack just inside his office door. "I haven't been sleeping well."

Matt quirked his eyebrow. "Is that all it is?"

"What else could it be?"

Shrugging, Matt speculated. "I don't know...maybe a fight with that mysterious girlfriend of yours."

"There is no girlfriend," Reid insisted through clenched teeth.

Matt didn't look as if he believed him. "Speaking of the girlfriend, I noticed before the meeting that Jane wears the same perfume as your mysterious, nonexistent girlfriend."

d.a.m.n it.

He considered his words before saying, "I'm not dating Jane, if that's what you're worried about."

Not dating her. Not sleeping with her. Not so much as touching her...unfortunately.

Matt studied him for a long minute before saying with a nod, "I brought it up only because it might not be a good idea-"

"Trust me," he interrupted. "I'm very aware of how stupid it would be to date Jane. I'm not an idiot."

Matt seemed to accept that answer, but-left alone in his office-Reid couldn't help wonder at all the half-truths he'd told Matt. There was no mysterious girlfriend, but that was Jane's perfume. He'd never taken Jane out on a date, but he'd nearly had s.e.x with her. And, frankly, he didn't trust himself not to take her to bed if the opportunity ever arose again.

And then there was the greatest half-truth of all. He might not be an idiot, but-where Jane was concerned-he was certainly acting like one.

The illicit thrill of making a mistake with his eyes wide open. Of doing something he knew was wrong, but wanting her enough not to care.

It was the not caring that scared him. He worked hard to control his reckless streak. He didn't want this obsession with Jane to jeopardize Forester+Blake's success. But short of taking a long vacation until this was all over, he didn't see how to avoid it.

"B-brilliant?" Jane muttered the word like a curse as she stared down her reflection in the bathroom.

Brilliant? What the h.e.l.l was that supposed to mean?

Brilliant had to be the least helpful bit of constructive criticism ever. Clearly Reid hated the idea. He'd looked bored to tears during the presentation and he'd told her to keep working on other ideas.

But if he hated it, why not point her in the right direction?

It had taken her half a day to screw up the courage to go ask Reid these questions, something the old Jane would never have considered doing. But Sasha would be bold. And if Sasha could do it, so could Jane.

She took one last a.s.sessing look at herself in the mirror before dropping her lipstick into her clutch purse and snapping it closed. Sasha makeup was in place...flawlessly applied by Dorothea this morning and then touched up over lunch. She wore her hair in the same sh.e.l.lacked, puffy mess she'd been wearing all week.

During the week she'd been dressing as Sasha, her career had taken a decided turn for the better. And, most miraculous of all, she had no stutter. Not even a hint of one. She spent every workday thinking like Sasha and acting like Sasha. As a result, every time she opened her mouth, she sounded like Sasha.

But the truth was, she was tired. So very, very tired of being Sasha. It was Friday night. The week had seemed interminable. All she wanted now was to go home, put on her pj's and climb into bed with a romance novel, a cat and a gla.s.s of wine.

But she couldn't do any of that until she talked to Reid.

Or could she?

What would happen if she went to him as Jane? No pretense, no personas. Just Jane.

She'd have to face him without Sasha's confidence. And she'd stutter, probably a lot. But was that really such a bad thing?

Sure, he was attracted to the way she looked when she was Sasha, but it wasn't as if he was going to sleep with her, no matter how she was dressed. So being Sasha when they were alone together gained her nothing.

But if she was going to face down Reid, she needed Sasha's confidence and strength. Sasha's confidence had abandoned her. She was also about to be alone with him again. Man, could she use a dose of courage right now.

She wanted-no, she needed-to walk into his office and demand answers from him. How could she do that if every time she opened her mouth, nothing came out?

She'd gotten more compliments-not just about her appearance, but about her work, as well. Everyone except Reid had gushed over the idea. He'd merely said, "It's brilliant," and stormed out. Okay, so he'd left. Stormed might be a bit of an exaggeration.

And could she blame him?

She was used to presenting her most intimate thoughts and ideas for others to pick apart and even she had been a little unnerved displaying her experiences with Reid.

It was only natural that he'd find the experience invasive.

Still, if he was going to nix the idea and send her back to the drawing board, she'd rather know now. She inspected herself one last time in the mirror. She was one hundred percent s.e.xy Sasha, from the tips of her black pumps to the highest wisps of her big blonde hair.

Jane might quake in her boots at the thought of confronting Reid in his office, but Sasha merely licked her lips and grinned.

Still, Sasha was no dummy. She might not quake at the thought of confronting Reid, but she didn't want to do it in front of an audience, either. So as Jane left the women's restroom she looked carefully up and down the hall for signs of life from the cubicles. It was after seven on a Friday night, so everyone should be gone. Everyone except Reid, who never left work early.

His brusque, "Enter," did little to calm her nerves.

She nudged the door open and slipped into the room to find Reid seated, his chair turned to face the window. The overhead lights had been turned off, leaving only the lamp on his desk to light the room. She saw only his profile as he stared out at the Austin skyline. He was completely still except for the fingers of one hand, which tapped out a little tune on the armrest of his chair.

The scene was so much like something out of one of her fantasies that her breath caught in her chest and, for a moment, she couldn't speak.

"It's late," he said without even looking over his shoulder. "Go home to Angela. And no, I don't want to go to dinner with you, Matt. I'm not a charity case."

Momentarily disarmed, every ounce of Sasha vanished. "I w-wasn't going to invite you to dinner," she said, interrupting him before he got too far.

His fingers stilled. Then, slowly, he rotated the chair to face her. In the dim lighting she could read little emotion in his shuttered expression.

"I wanted to talk to y-you about the pitch." She stepped into the room, allowing the door to close behind her.

"Go ahead."

She'd felt this way as a child the first time she'd jumped off the high dive. Nervous and unsure. Excited, but half convinced this would be the death of her. It had taken Jane all summer to muster the courage to jump. But Sasha would have taken the plunge on the first day of spring. Summoning that courage, Jane drew in a fortifying breath and jumped.

"I need to know what you thought of my idea." Her fingers clenched around her purse as a wave of nerves. .h.i.t her squarely in the chest. She sucked in a deep breath and willed herself to relax. This situation wouldn't even faze Sasha.

"You couldn't guess?"