Love.com (4 page)

Stu
was the one who was supposed to bring her up to speed on Ambidor’s needs that morning. He threw her under the bus her first day back by not bothering to meet with her. If not for Ian, she would have looked like a complete imbecile.

Emily’s eyes strayed to Ian time and time again when he wasn’t aware, covert looks she used to memorize every perfect line and curve of his face. She was grateful when Evan took over
. The lights were dimmed to show Ambidor’s current ad displayed on the huge flat screen TV. She watched the boring ad and had to agree. Ambidor needed a new image. They’d become too big over the years, forgetting how to appeal to the people who needed the drugs they made to live.

“We have six months to develop a new look for Ambidor,” Evan said and stared every one of them down when the lights went back up. “Emily will be heading the team on this one.”

Stu made an angry noise, sitting forward and dropping his pencil. His
pale eyes narrowed as they fell on Emily. “She doesn’t know anything about the Ambidor account! I’ve been working on this for weeks!”

Evan eyed Stu with a condescending look. “And you got nothing
yet, Stu. Emily will head up the Ambidor account. You can work on our other accounts.”

“Do you think that’s wise?” Stu persisted
to argue the decision; making Emily long to kick him under the table. “With all due respect, she’s been out of the game six months! This is too important of an account to hand it off without bearing in mind her fragile state.”

Ian cleared his throat
, drawing every pair of eyes to him. “I found many of Emily’s ideas encouraging this morning. Perhaps she isn’t as fragile as you think, Stu?”

“
No, I certainly wouldn’t say she looks like she’s going to waste away.” Evan chuckled and might have made another fat joke had Emily not leveled him with a fierce glare. “I’ll tell ya what, Stu. Be available should Emily need any help on this, but she’s lead on this campaign. It’s settled.”

Ian winked at her as Stu sat back, looking like he got kicked in his midsection. Emily felt even more attracted to Ian
. He defended her with no real idea of her abilities. For whatever reason, he went out of his way to ingratiate himself to her at the onset. She was confused by his show of support, but encouraged by it. She eyed Stu with a cool look.

“I realize my
husband’s illness and dying so recently might make many of you question my commitment to this project. I wouldn’t have come back to work if I didn’t feel fully competent to do my job. I appreciate your concerns, Stu. I know you were only thinking of the company.”

“Of course, Em
,” Stu rushed to reassure her. “None of us question your ability to do your job, but the timing of it? Ernie has been gone barely a month—”

“His name was Eddie
, Stu,” Emily cut in with a condescending smile. “My husband’s death shouldn’t encourage any of you to think I’m distracted from seeing how important this client is to us all.”

Ian gave her a smile that seemed for her alone
. Stu wasn’t deterred. He was very good at pointing out flaws to another’s plan without having one of his own. He was chasing his tail on the new Ambidor account, just refused to admit it.

“Exactly my point
, Em! You’re grieving for your husband. How are we to believe you’re at a hundred percent right now? We can’t lose Ambidor. This is too risky.”

“It’s not your call to make, Stu,” Evan reminded him coldly
from the head of the table, all pretense at being polite forgotten. “Ian will work with Emily to bring her up to speed. You take the back seat unless asked for your help. Is that clear?” Evan looked around the room, his veneer of absolute authority rigid. “Let me remind you why we all have a job today, People, and who pays the light bills. We need Ambidor; now more than ever. We get this account; you all have jobs next year. We lose it; the company will be forced to restructure again. I don’t want to scare you, but we lost money the last three years just to retain our existing clients.” The room grew silent, all aware of what restructuring meant. Evan smiled down the table at Emily. “Emily is in charge of choosing her assistants. I leave it to her to make any changes in the current team we have in place.”

Grumbles were heard all around
. All were aware of how much power Evan just gave Emily. In charge of their biggest account, she could remove any one of them from the team. They knew it from their resentful expressions, gazing down at her with barely-concealed dismay.

Tabitha
Meyer engaged her with a passive-aggressive smile, always the first to recognize her own mortality at Stone and Watterman. The dark-haired young woman smiled condescendingly, her overblown cleavage jutting forward in the black silk suit as she sat up straighter in the swivel chair. She was beautiful, manicured to the nines, and looked like she took hours to get ready for work each day. Glamorous was a word one would use to describe her, that, and treacherous. Watch your back or find her knife in it, everyone whispered in the office. 

Tabitha had Evan eating out of her palm. The twenty-six year old didn’t mind the fact none of the women in the office liked her. She had a rich boyfriend who paid all her bills. She would do whatever Evan wanted, even if it meant deferring to Emily the next six months.
Emily could rely on her to undermine her, if not appear to show support.

“Whatever Emily wants
; she gets. We can all assist her. I agree with Evan on this. We work as a team and we land Ambidor. None of this happens with one person running the show. I’d be happy to work with her to get the ad up and running.”

Evan smiled at
Tabitha approvingly, reaffirming everyone’s belief the pair were sleeping together. Tabitha eyed Emily with a pitying look just then under her long lashes. Her dark heavily made-up eyes glowed in amusement. Emily stiffened, knowing the woman was dissecting her with her gaze and finding her pathetic.

What was it about hot chicks? They thought it took some
other-worldly power to look good every minute of the day. They thought women who couldn’t compete with them looks-wise were deemed unimportant. Emily never cared for the grasping, gorgeous Tabitha, or the way she landed her job. Everyone knew she was having an affair with Evan. Even his wife knew.

The current
Mrs. Stone lived in New York, happy to not suffer her husband of twenty-two years. His daughters were in their late teens, both socialites-in-waiting, and loathed their father for embarrassing their mother by openly taking a mistress.

His
current girlfriend had a two-year degree in culinary arts from the local community college. Tabitha was hardly qualified to be an advertising account rep, and they all knew it. Evan found her working as a cocktail waitress at his favorite watering hole. After going home with her the first night he met her; he offered her a job at his company.

Tabitha
, most of all, realized her precarious position. She had no choice but to make Evan happy or she got the axe and lost her over-priced apartment. It was then Emily observed the barely discreet, covetous glances Tabitha launched at Ian.

Emily felt a fierce stab of acute jealousy, almost choking on it.
She reached for her bottled water in front of her, resenting the fact she’d give anything to look like Tabitha to get Ian Sawyer’s attention. It was only a passing feeling of inept worthlessness, but it lingered on, making her fume at her own shallow assessment of herself.

The fact Tabitha was checking out Ian wasn’t lost on her. Every woman in the building with a pulse was checking him out
; some of the men too; no doubt. The reason she felt so threatened was that Tabitha actually had a shot at Ian, while Emily could only dream about guys like him.

It was disheartening to realize her
gross limitations at that moment, feeling every bit of her confidence ooze away. Emily never felt such intense self-loathing before; growing more acute the moment she saw the looks of interest passing between the pair. For some reason, she refused to believe Ian Sawyer would be interested in someone like Tabitha.

Emily’s eyes strayed to Ian, who managed to avoid Tabitha’s
provocative gaze and met hers instead; his blue eyes making her melt inside. Who wouldn’t want him? She had no right being jealous. She was being ridiculous and knew it.

Her husband had been dead less than a month. She knew this man barely
two hours and already latched onto him emotionally, ached for him in ways that made her feel uncertain Joan’s prediction she wasn’t losing it, wasn’t more than accurate.

Emily chewed her
lower lip as the other members of the team heralded Tabitha’s endorsement. She knew it was all a joke. None of them would hesitate to drive a knife through her back. This was a dog eat dog business; after all. They were very much dogs, every last one of them.
Bow wow
, she thought as she looked around, waiting for more of what she got from Stu.

There was Desiree Fernandez, the art director. She was older, broiling in muttered Latin curses under her breath at the end of the table. She was obviously not pleased by Evan’s choice. Not much pleased Desiree
these days. She had a perpetually bad attitude and rarely smiled. Few knew it was because she longed to retire and return to Puerto Rico where her family lived. She’d divulged such details to Emily when she inadvertently got some of Desiree’s mail in her box. They were letters from her husband and sons. She flew home once every six weeks to see her family, but it wasn’t enough anymore.

Then there was Leonard Whitman, or Lenny, who stammered uncontrollably. He was in charge of the editing department. He wore an ill-fitting suit and appeared out of place here among the
more-fashionable group. If not for his genius with computers, he would have been canned just for wearing the same suit every day.

Lastly was Ed Combs, a slick ad
executive who worked his thick, dark brows too much, hit on anything in a skirt, and was known to be a backstabber of the worst sort. He would go along with any program, as long as there was something in it for him.

This was her team
, Emily thought in despair. Not one of them was a friend to her, though Lenny was the less of all evils. He was too afraid of his own shadow to be any threat to anyone.

No, she had no friends here. Every one of them was out for themselves. They would make a grand show of support
ing her, but she could count on every one of them to turn on her at the first opportunity. What had Evan been thinking making her in charge? Stu was inept, but better at dealing with these sharks than she. He was one of them; after all.

“Get back to work
.” Evan smiled as he twirled his bottled water. “We got a deadline, People. We got six months to impress Ambidor.”

~
~ ~

Emily uploaded the artwork selected for the
ad. She refused to give in to the daydreams that plagued her since returning to her office. She felt her breathing growing labored; the carnal images of her frolicking naked with Ambidor’s sexy representative playing havoc on her senses.

Even a trip to the cafeteria on the first floor wasn’t an escape. She overheard women talking about Ian
Sawyer. His blatant refusal of their many advances in the weeks since he arrived now dubbed him ‘Ian the Unattainable’.

His air of being hard to get
only fuelled the challenge he represented. While it pleased her to hear he wasn’t screwing every woman who threw themselves at him; she reasoned he wasn’t without options outside of Stone and Watterman. Why did she even care who Ian Sawyer was banging in his spare time? He was probably banging every hot woman in Sacramento, or the whole western seaboard, for that matter. Why did it matter to her? He’d never look twice at her, that much was true. Besides, it was highly inappropriate she think about men at all right now. Eddie wasn’t even cold in his grave and she was twitching for another man.

Emily
closed her eyes, unbidden images of Ian playing foremost when she needed to concentrate on the tasks at hand. She couldn’t help it. The minute she set eyes upon Ian Sawyer, she was lost in his bluer-than-blue eyes. She eyed her lunch in disgust.

Joan sent her to work with leftovers of meatloaf, mashed potatoes, and
tons of gooey, brown gravy. Comfort food, she called it. Joan insisted it would get her through the first day back at work. Funny, her appetite diminished the minute she recognized her attraction to Ian Sawyer. And comfort? Who was she kidding? To know she couldn’t have him was made worse as the day wore on, seeing him pursued by every office girl within his golden radius.

Tabitha was showing him her best assets
now, leaning down over her desk to make sure he got a glimpse of Evan’s gift to her the previous year. The huge breast implants were snickered about when she went off work for a week with the flu and returned with them. As if none of them would notice she was three cup sizes bigger?

Ian did his best not to stare, to his credit, but he was still a man. Who would fail to not read such a blatant invitation in those scented mounds?
Tabitha lured Ian into her office with such obvious intent; none could keep from watching the pair in rapt interest. Knowing they were all watching seemed to delight Tabitha, warming to the knowledge she was the hottest woman in the office. She said something that made Ian laugh before he returned to his own office.