MITCH ALMOST MISSED the call when his cell phone jingled at quarter past six Wednesday afternoon. He backed out of the hotel room’s shower, turned off the water and sprinted over to the bed. The phone vibrated against the glossy veneer of the nightstand.
“Mitchell Hayes.”
“Mitch, it’s Eve.”
It wasn’t his fault he couldn’t control the silly grin that spread over his face at the sound of that husky, musical voice. Good thing there was no one here to see what a goofball he was. He sank onto the coverlet. “Hey, Eve.”
“What could I tell you that would make you really happy right now?”
He paused for a moment to consider several dazzling possibilities. “You’re standing outside my door wrapped in a velvet ribbon and nothing else?”
“You’re lucky I don’t have speakerphone on,” she chided. “Try again.”
“You’re calling to ask me out?”
“Maybe. But before that.”
Maybe? “Before, after, I don’t care. The answer is yes, I’d love to go out. When should I pick you up?”
“Would you listen?” Her voice trembled with laughter. “I’m talking business, here.”
“You said what would make me happy, not the network. Okay, what happened between now and one-fifteen, when we said goodbye in the park?”
“I met with my team and presented our options to them. I told them we could make no changes…stay in Atlanta and go with CWB…or move to New York and go with one of the big networks.”
“And which did they choose?” He dragged his mind off where he might take her tonight—besides his hotel room, that is. He was really in fine shape when seeing her had become more important than the outcome of the deal. And speaking of that, he’d been inches away from packing it in and going back to headquarters to take his lumps. With the arrival of Mackenzie Roussos and Chad Everard and their bottomless pockets, he’d figured CWB wouldn’t have a chance at succeeding.
Money always won. Always.
“They want to stay in Atlanta and become a CWB affiliate,” she told him, triumph in her tone. “It may not get us as big a reach as SBN or CBS, but all of us know that reaching sometimes means overreaching, and that just makes you fall on your face. The ‘enthusiastically conservative’ approach to business has served us well so far. We figure we should just keep doing it that way.”
“I’m…delighted,” he managed from under his amazement. They’d chosen CWB. He’d won. After two failed deals in his immediate history, he didn’t have to go back to New York and face Nelson Berg’s derision. He was going to be able to keep his job—and meet the man’s damn deadline to boot. It was a miracle. “Amazed. Happy. Thank you.”
“There’s one caveat, though,” she said. “I want a guarantee that I can keep my team together. They’ve all agreed in principle to coming on board, and I realize we’ll have to negotiate compensation and all that. But what I don’t want is for the network to lay them off as soon as we sign the contract, and plug its own people in.”
“Fair enough,” he allowed, trying to breathe through the tight feeling in his chest. That feeling that meant he was holding back a shout of triumph. “I’ll present that as part of the deal.”
“I think the fact that we got an agreement at all calls for a celebration,” she said, “and I’m not talking about a walk in the park, either.”
“I can take your whole team to dinner. We’ll max out the network credit card in a show of good faith.”
“I hope you will, but not tonight. Tonight I want it to be just you and me. You’ve helped me so much this week. I wish there were some way to thank you.”
“You already found it,” he said fervently. “But sure. I’d love that. I usually spend the evenings watching the competition and thinking about you anyway.”
This time she laughed. “You know, you really should find a more romantic way to phrase these things.”
He had to smile, too. “Ah, but if I think about you and romance together, I get into trouble. Look what happened the last time, at your uncle’s. And at the Ashmere mansion.”
In his mind’s eye, for the thousandth time, he saw her silhouetted against that ivy-covered wall, her skin pale in the moonlight, her gown hugging the curves he still hungered to touch and taste. And then later, in the car, when she—
His body throbbed at the thought.
She had no idea how difficult it was to see her every day in the park and not beg her to come back to the hotel with him. To sit next to her on the bench and talk about the television business, when all he wanted to do was to lay her down in the grass. To explore the splendid curves revealed by her beaded, sometimes plunging necklines while with each inch of discovery, the chemistry all but ignited between them.
“I remember every second of what happened at the Ashmere mansion.” Her tone dropped to almost a whisper.
“Is your office door closed?” His own voice dropped, too, though there was no one within four walls of him.
“Yes.”
“I remember how silky your skin is. How sexy your mouth is when you talk. When I’m not with you, I fantasize about you. Basically, I’m hooked on you twenty-four seven.”
“You fantasize about me?” Her whisper had become downright breathless.
“Oh, yeah. In my mind, we’ve been on your desk, on my desk, at my hotel, in the park, on carpets of those pink flowers, you name it. We have an amazing love life for two people who have never seen each other naked.”
She giggled. “You’ve seen me nearly naked.”
His body stiffened with appreciation. “One of my fondest memories. I could write entire sonnets to that moment, I swear. Have I told you how much I like that red gauze top you had on yesterday? That was good for a real dream about you last night, not just your standard daytime fantasy.”
“I was wearing a bra, you bad boy,” she whispered.
“Mmm,” he rumbled. “A push-up. And a fine example of its kind. I and a couple of million male viewers thank you.”
“It didn’t show anything!” she squeaked. “I had the director and the guys in the control booth double-check. Both backlighting and spots.”
“I bet they enjoyed that. No, you only showed enough to run my concentration right off the rails. It was more the total effect. The jeans were great, too. Have I told you what a pretty rear view you have?”
“No, poor thing. With you, it gets no attention.”
“I am pretty consistent,” he admitted. “I hope you know what this conversation is doing to me, even as we speak.”
“If it’s anything like what it’s doing to me, it’s going to be difficult to get out of here without someone suspecting I have a very hot date.”
“You do. How soon can I pick you up?”
“Um, as soon as the swelling goes down?”
“Well, yes, that’s a given. Say, seven-thirty? That gives you seventy-five minutes.”
“We’re going to dinner, right?” she asked. “Just checking.”
“Dinner,” he promised. “And now that negotiations are over, after the champagne, I really, really, want you for dessert.”
It took ten minutes of steady concentration before Mitch could turn off the sensual images blending into one another in his head, and reduce his hard-on to manageable proportions. He had to call Nelson and tell him the good news, and he simply couldn’t do that when Eve filled his mind and affected his body in such an un-businesslike fashion.
All he wanted to do was think about her and what was to come this evening. And he would—after he called in to report.
Mitch walked back into the bathroom and took his shower, with the water a little cooler than usual. Once he was shaved and dressed, he picked up his cell and hit Autodial.
Nelson Berg answered on the first ring.
“It’s Mitch.”
“Just how long do you plan to spend down there enjoying Southern hospitality?” Nelson barked. “You got some kind of Scarlett O’Hara complex says you’ll think about doing the deal tomorrow, or what? Let me tell you, tomorrow never—”
“The deal’s done, Nelson.”
That stopped him. For all of two seconds.
“When did this happen?”
“Just now. Consider your deadline met. It’s done for all intents and purposes, anyway. Eve Best called me to say she’d reached an agreement in principle with her staff, and then I called you.”
“Did she, now? How about that.”
Mitch’s forehead creased. “You sound surprised. Didn’t you think I could pull it off?”
“Oh, I knew you’d give it everything you had. It was that or the job postings on Craigslist.”
“Your confidence humbles me, Nelson.”
“It keeps you young bucks on your toes. So how soon will they be coming over? I’ve got a lot of logistics to handle once the process starts.”
“We have to iron that out, but I can’t see it going longer than six months. We may not make the November sweeps, but we’ll definitely get May.”
“I want November,” Nelson said immediately. “Get ’em on board by September at the latest.”
“I’ll do my best.”
“Damn right you will. You might have pulled off this one, but anybody can do a handoff. I can replace you.”
Deep in Mitch’s gut, anger began to bubble. “Nelson, anybody ever send you to management training? Because the reward-and-punishment method of motivation is really getting old.”
“I don’t need to punish people who do their jobs properly,” Nelson snapped. “And if you don’t like it, you don’t have to stick around.”
“Fine. I can quit, if you want. Before we get Eve Best’s signature on this contract. Mackenzie Roussos and Chad Everard are both here. I’m sure they’d be happy to step in with theirs.”
Nelson swore so colorfully that Mitch wondered if he’d been in the navy at some point. Back in the dark ages. Before managers learned to lead by example instead of by threatening everyone in sight.
But Nelson also appreciated a man who had a spine. Mitch might not be a shark like Roussos, or a glamour boy like Everard, but he could bring in the results with the best of them.
Nelson ran out of steam eventually and surprised Mitch with a change of subject. “So, how’d you pull it off? Did you take my advice and romance her? That always works with women.”
As if Nelson would know. The guy had been divorced, what, three times?
“I did not. She needed someone to talk to and I stood in as a sounding board.”
“Talk to?” From his tone, you’d think Eve had demanded that Mitch eat raw squid.
“There aren’t a lot of women in this region in her position, Nelson. And it’s not like she can call up Oprah or Ellen DeGeneres for a pep talk. I’ve been around this industry a while and seen a lot of shows in production. She appreciates a high-level view.”
“As long as you’re not exchanging industry secrets,” Nelson warned. “You know my opinions about that.”
“If we’re going to be on the same payroll they won’t be secrets,” he pointed out. “I plan to bring her on board with CWB’s culture, org structure, all that. In time. Not now.”
“Too soon for that,” Nelson agreed. “Get her John Hancock on that contract and she’ll be inundated with all that stuff. Good work, Hayes. When are you coming back?”
“When I get the aforesaid John Hancock,” Mitch replied drily. “And we have a few things to iron out. For instance, she wants assurance that her team will stay together under our management.”
“Why? You’ve seen one producer, you’ve seen them all.”
“It’s not just the producer. It’s the cameraman, the main story coordinator, the makeup artist who happens to be her best friend.”
Nelson made a noise that expressed his opinion of that. “I sent you down there to get Eve Best. I don’t care about her friend the makeup artist. Those people are a dime a dozen.”
“In my opinion, it would be a mistake to upset the status quo,” Mitch warned. “This team has created a winner. Making the change from independent to network is going to be disruptive enough. I’d recommend strongly that we not make any further changes.”
“I’ll think about it,” Nelson conceded grudgingly. “We can always give them short contracts and unload them in a year. I’ll talk it over with the honchos in our teleconference on Monday.”
Mitch acknowledged this was the best he could expect for now. He and Nelson both knew that Eve had them over a barrel. If they didn’t meet her conditions, she could pull out and remain as she was, no harm done. At worst, she could call SBN or CBS and play hardball with them, cutting CWB out of the running altogether.
“So, what else?” Nelson asked.
“Tonight we’re going to—” he stopped.
“What?”
“Review the list of upcoming guest segments,” he lied. “That’s it for now. Talk to you later, Nelson.”
His boss rang off with his customary abruptness and Mitch snapped his cell phone shut.
He needed to watch his mouth. Because there was no way he was telling anyone that he and Eve were meeting for dinner. Or about what they had planned after that.
EVE PUT THE RECEIVER down quietly and marveled at what Mitch Hayes could do to her with words alone. Oh, and the low, sexy voice didn’t hurt, either. That was the second time she’d skated close to having phone sex with the man—and her blood was hot, and her body softened and ready. If Mitch had been here, she’d have locked the door and jumped him.
As it was, she had to get a grip on her rioting responses. Her first duty was to let Dan know the team’s decision before he heard the news in the hall.
For a few moments, she concentrated on slowing her heartbeat and calming her breathing.
Come on, seven-thirty. This would be the shortest meeting on record.
She climbed the stairs to the station’s third floor and tapped on Dan Phillips’s door. When she heard him call, “Come in,” she pushed it open.
And stopped on the threshold. “Oh, sorry. I didn’t know you were with someone.”
Mackenzie Roussos uncurled her lanky frame, which topped Eve’s by about four inches, from the squashy chair in the corner. “Nice to see you, Eve,” she said. “Great show today. I’m looking forward to sticking around for the town-hall show tomorrow, too.”
“Thanks,” she replied, watching Mac the Knife the way a bird would watch an approaching cat. Shrugging off the last lingering thought of Mitch, her senses went on alert. “We never know what to expect with those. I think that’s why they get the highest ratings during the week. There’s something mesmerizing about unpredictability.”
“There’s something mesmerizing about Just Between Us, period,” Mackenzie purred. “I really think it would be a fabulous fit for SBN.”
Well, there was a perfect opening for you. “Actually, that’s what I came to discuss with Dan.” She glanced at him, then back at the other woman, and smiled. Let her make what she wanted of that. “In confidence. Do you mind, Mackenzie?”
Roussos smiled and snagged her silk jacket off the coat tree and her Dooney & Bourke briefcase from the floor. “Not a bit. I love it when you talk about me and my network behind my back. Later, Dan.”
She closed the door behind her, and Eve sank into the other chair, which was a hard-backed one close to the chaotic pile that concealed his desk. What had they been talking about? Was she making him pie-in-the-sky promises about the future of his production company if he guaranteed that SBN would get the show? Or was she here for more personal reasons? Just how much influence did a high-flying woman like Mackenzie Roussos have over a middle-aged, independent station owner who hankered for a taste of the big time?
There was no way to ask these questions, and she had a job to do. For a moment, she wondered how to begin, but he saved her that decision.
“Production meeting go okay?”
She nodded. “Town-hall prep is pretty straightforward. Give the audience a topic and stand out of the way of flying objects.” He chuckled, and she went on, “I was glad to have some extra time to talk over the networks’ offers with everyone at once.”
Dan eyed her, giving away nothing. “And?”
“I gave them the three options, and we talked over the ramifications of each one. In the end, it was nearly unanimous.”
Another pause. Then Dan said, “You want me to read it in tomorrow’s paper, or what?”
Ouch. She’d thought he’d be mellower after being schmoozed for however long Mackenzie had been closeted in here with him. Eve took a deep breath. “Everyone wants to go with CWB.”
His face froze.
She rushed on, “All of us except maybe Zach have reasons for wanting to stay in Atlanta. Me included. I’m just getting to know my extended family after being away for so long. Cole doesn’t want to uproot his kids. Nicole would rather not go even farther east and—”
“CWB?” he asked, as if she hadn’t even been talking. “You chose that Podunk network over SBN and CBS?”
“Yes.”
“Are you completely insane?” He pushed his chair back and stalked around it. For a second Eve wondered if he had a predisposition to violence she didn’t know about, and then he passed her and began to walk a tight circle on the area rug. “Their offer wasn’t even half as generous as SBN’s. What are you people thinking?”
“We’re thinking about our lives,” she said carefully, watching him. “About the quality of them. And frankly, with the exception of Jenna Hamilton, nobody in that room really cares about SBN’s money right now. We have enough of our own.”
“You would have if Liza Skinner hadn’t shown up, dragging her sour grapes into this. You can’t depend on that money, Eve. By the time she gets through with you, most of it will have gone on legal fees, and twenty years from now you’ll get a check for a thousand bucks.”
“Maybe.” Eve tried to keep her voice steady. Mitch had warned her, hadn’t he? She should have listened to him—and been ready. She should have realized how invested Dan was in going with one of the big networks. She should have seen the significance of all these têteà-têtes with Mackenzie Roussos. “But even leaving the money out of it, CWB still has the best deal. No one wants to go to New York. Period.”
“Maybe I do,” he ground out.
“Then go, if you want to. Sell the station outright to CWB instead of becoming an affiliate. Or sell Driver Productions to SBN and syndicate the heck out of it.”
He glared at her, and she realized that disappointment in her decision had clouded his ability to see reason at the moment. She valued her relationship with Dan, and staying any longer meant they’d probably both say things they’d regret.
“Look, I’m sorry that this is disappointing for you. But you’ll see in the long run that it’s best for the team. And that’s what we all want, right?”
He threw himself into the squashy chair—which was probably still warm from Mackenzie’s shapely behind—and stared out the window.
“Maybe we can talk about it later,” she offered, and slipped out, closing the door behind her.
Thank God she had Mitch to look forward to, she thought, as she clattered down the stairs. She snatched up her handbag and briefcase and left the station at the next thing to a run. The thought of Dan and his problems peeled away under the sharp edge of anticipation.
Dinner and dessert.
He’d promised.