Playing for Keeps (32 page)

“I’m in advertising. Graphic design corrupted by greed and manipulation.”

“And that’s why you talk about hooks? And capturing the essence?” He nodded. “Come work for me.”

“What?” She saw the determination in his eyes and drew a sharp breath, flattered but also amused by the decisiveness. Was that the quality that had rocketed him to the forefront of computer innovation?

“I need you on my team.”

She smiled and dug a business card from her wallet. “I work for the Caldwell Agency. If you need an advertising campaign, you should really talk to Mr. Caldwell. He’s the best. And if he lets me work on it, I’d be in heaven.”

Rorsch cocked his head to the side, studied her for a moment, then tried again. “I already work with an outfit in San Francisco and I’m happy with them. And I’m happy with my in-house design team. What I really need is a liaison between the two. Because they feud constantly. My people want to keep control of their projects. But the agency wants free rein. I’m sure you understand. So help me out. Handle those headaches. You’ve got the advertising background, so you can relate to the business folks. But you’re a natural designer so my guys would love you.”

“Wow.” She forced herself to take a deep breath. If someone had asked her a few months ago what her dream job would be, this might have been it. No more tedious business details, just art and hand-holding. Her two strengths.

But things had changed without her even realizing it. Yes, her first love was the design element, the creative brainstorming. But under Steve’s tutelage, she had discovered the challenge of the business side. She wasn’t yet ready to handle negotiations, contracts, scheduling, or even hard-core market research, but she was getting there.

And she honestly couldn’t wait.

Wow, who knew? You really
do
love your stupid career
.

“Tell me what you’re thinking,” Rorsch urged, sounding a lot like Johnny Spurling. Another big dog. These guys loved to take charge. To call the shots. And they had the charisma to get away with it.

Most of the time.

“I’m flattered,” she assured him. “But I don’t have enough background to do that successfully. I’ve only been with Caldwell for a year and a half. And it’s such a great job. You’re tempting me,” she added with a teasing smile. “But I’m happy where I am.”

He tucked her business card in his shirt pocket. “If you change your mind, let me know. I guarantee I’d pay better than you’re getting now.”

“You’re torturing me,” she warned him. But it wasn’t the money that excited her. It was the location of Rorsch’s main campus.

Portland.

She sighed at the twists and turns of this long, long day. Then she shook off the mood and said, “Let’s work on those fonts, okay? My flight leaves in twenty minutes.”

They worked together, superimposing
Rori’s Splash Pad
in glittery pink over the clouds. The effect was gorgeous, especially with the three-D function activated.

“My daughter will love this,” Rorsch assured her.

“As the first of many production units? Or as a failed project? Please tell me you’ll keep working on it.”

He nodded. “If you’re right, and I hope you are, we need to re-think our approach. Bring the average Joe back into the equation.”

Erica smiled. “When the time comes, I’ll be your first customer. And meanwhile, I should run.”

They both stood and shook hands.

“Remember, my door is always open,” Rorsch reminded her.

She nodded and started to leave, then turned back and asked hesitantly, “Your daughter’s name is Rori? Is that from Rorsch? Or is it short for Aurora?”

“Aurora,” he confirmed.

Her breath caught in her throat. “That’s what you should call your tablet, you know. Aurora. It’s perfect. Anyway, good luck with it—”

“Wait!” He caught her by the hand. “The Aurora tablet?”

“No. Just Aurora. I mean . . .” She laughed at herself. “That’s what
I’d
call it. But Aurora tablet works too.”

“Aurora,” he repeated reverently. “Now I don’t have a choice. I’ve got to make it happen. Thanks, Erica.”

“You’re welcome,” she murmured. But she knew she should be the one thanking him. Because he had somehow turned her awful night into a gateway to the future. And while she was too tired to figure out the practical effect, one thing was clear.

She loved her job. She didn’t just want to save it, she wanted to
own
it. Learn and grow and make her non–Lager Storm mark with more and better campaigns.

And she wanted more with Johnny too. Maybe not love and marriage, but she should have been more open to his request that they let the fling play out naturally. Weeks? Months? It had sounded too painful, postponing the inevitable. But wasn’t it just the opposite? True pain meant never knowing what would have happened. And yes, she might get her heart broken, and it might be worse after more weeks and months of lovemaking.

But she had just touched magic. Felt it in her fingertips, seen it hovering in the air, reminding her of the magic of
his
touch. She had closed a part of herself off to him, fearing failure. Certain she couldn’t succeed at work with the distraction of a sexy, demanding boyfriend.

Now, thanks to Aurora, the sky was no longer the limit.

Chapter 15

She grabbed enough sleep on the plane to feel confident. That, plus Murf’s car service, first from the airfield to her apartment, then two hours later from her apartment to work, made it almost easy. She was showered, dressed in her lucky suit, and ready to do battle at nine forty-five. Perfect timing, since Caldwell’s standing meeting with his A-team leaders ended at half past nine every Monday.

She didn’t knock on his door like a schoolgirl at the principal’s office this time. Instead, she made an appointment through his secretary and was granted entrance just as quickly.

Her boss greeted her with a smile. “I’ve been expecting you.”

“Thanks for seeing me so quickly,” she said smoothly, settling into the guest chair.

“I had a feeling you didn’t know about Patrick Murphy’s call. And I knew you’d be upset when they told you about it,” he said, adding quickly, “You should know I was fine with the request. I just figured you’d want to make it yourself. In person.”

“It was a shock,” she admitted. “But they thought they were helping. It’s really my fault.” She launched into her spiel, careful not to imply that her affair with the quarterback had caused the confusion. Instead, she finished with, “They dangled playoff tickets in front of me, and who could resist? And because they’re nice guys—clueless but nice—they thought it would be easier if I didn’t have to fly back and forth. Little did they know, it made it
more
inconvenient for me, not less.”

Caldwell seemed intrigued. “How so?”

“I can’t make a move without Steve,” she admitted. “So I need to be
here
. Especially with Sumpter on the fast track. Using vacation time on an occasional Monday or Friday is one thing. But working remotely? Ugh, don’t even get me started.”

Her boss cleared his throat. “It’s just two weeks, Erica. And in Mr. Murphy’s defense, he was just doing what he could to improve Spurling’s chances of winning. I don’t blame him, considering he works on commission. He’s just running his business like the rest of us.”

“Pardon?”

“He gets a cut of whatever Spurling makes. We can assume there are astronomical bonuses for making it to the Super Bowl. And for winning it? It’s probably off the charts. So they have a lot on the line.”

“True. But it was presumptuous to call directly, don’t you think?”

Caldwell shrugged. “I have a contract with them, so not really. It was all very professional. If Spurling wins, we all win. Especially Lager Storm.” His eyes twinkled. “My rule is still firmly in place. Sleep with him or don’t sleep with him, I don’t have a preference. But if—hypothetically—you
are
sleeping with him, and you think spending more time with him increases his odds of winning, then use your own discretion. Work here, work in Portland, work on the moon. Or take the full two weeks off. You have carte blanche.”

She grimaced as her well-rehearsed plan fell to pieces. “I appreciate your confidence in me. And yes, big shock, I
am
sleeping with him. But it’s complicated. And spending that much time with him—”

“Don’t do it then,” he boomed. “Why are we always talking about this? Don’t you have a life outside Lager Storm and football? Should I get you a cat or something?”

She laughed. “Want to hear a secret?”

“Probably not.”

She leaned forward eagerly. “I learned something about myself last night. Career-wise. I got a job offer—”

He came half out of his chair.
“What?”

“No, no. I turned it down. But that was the big revelation. The other job played completely to my strengths. Creativity, design, hand-holding. It made me realize how much I love working here. I want to be like Steve someday. Handling the negotiations and contracts, coordinating with the film crews, managing the details. I’m excited about learning all that. I might even be good at it, not from natural talent, but just because I love the rush.” She felt her cheeks warm. “I never actually knew that about myself.”

“You’ll get a bonus this December for your work on Lager Storm,” Caldwell said forcefully. “Depending on how well the campaign goes, it could be sizeable. And you’ll get a raise when you officially join an A-team. But if I need to make those things happen sooner, I will. I can’t afford to lose you, Erica.”

She bit back a smile. “I can’t afford to lose you either, sir. That’s my point.”

“Good.” He jumped to his feet, walked around his desk, and stuck out his hand. “We’ve got plans for you, so if you get any other offers, come to me first.”

“Will do.” She stood and shook his hand, then moved toward the door.

“Erica?”

“Yes, sir?”

“Don’t make me buy you a cat.”

“I won’t, sir,” she said, laughing. “I’m allergic anyway.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“I know.” She smiled in confused gratitude. “I’ll get a life. I promise.”

• • •

She went directly to the stairwell and dialed Johnny’s number.

“Hey, how’d it go?” he demanded.

Brimming with excitement, she explained that the talk had gone well—
really
well—without mentioning that she actually had permission to spend the full two weeks with him.

Because that permission had been qualified by “at your discretion.” Translation? She couldn’t dare even if she wanted to. She might be floating on clouds right now, thanks to Aurora, but she’d still worry that she was undercutting her reputation.

“Sounds like he appreciates you,” Johnny said, sounding relieved. “That’s good to hear.”

“Be sure to tell Murf so he doesn’t feel bad. He was just doing his job apparently.”

“It was
my
fault, not his. I asked him to get on board with our relationship and he thought he was doing that.”

“And protecting all the bonuses you’ll get, and his cut of them. I felt so much better when Caldwell reminded me about that.”

Johnny was silent for a moment. Then he assured her, “It was never about money, Erica. Not for me
or
for Murf. But anyway, I’m glad we can get past it. Gear up for our Super Bowl date on Saturday.”

She smiled at the blustery approach. He wasn’t asking if the date was still on. Just reminding her about it. “I can’t wait,” she assured him. “And guess what, Johnny? Something amazing happened at the airport.”

“How is that even possible?” he asked, chuckling.

“I know, right?” She laughed. “But out of the blue, I met this guy—”

“What?”

“He’s a kindred spirit and we ended up talking about art and creativity and all sorts of things. It made me remember how much I love that stuff. Not just at work, but for my own inner artist. Pushing the boundaries. Trying new methods.”

“You needed a reminder?” he scoffed. “Talk to
me
next time. I sleep with your artwork next to my pillow.”

Touched, she promised him, “I’m going to make you something better. To hang over your fireplace.”

“Let me guess. Something that evokes nature but doesn’t duplicate it?”

The quote rang a bell, and she remembered saying something similar at his place when she was giving him decorating advice. “You’re such a good listener,” she said, honestly impressed.

“I have to stay on my toes with you,” he said teasingly. “And it taught me something.”

She sighed. “You know what I’d like to do with you someday? Finger-paint. On giant sheets of paper with gloppy primary colors. Just let loose and see what happens.”

“Can we do it naked?”

“You read my mind.” She laughed lightly. “Anyway, I’d better get back to work.”

“Yeah, me too. Coach is giving me the evil eye.”

“Oh, sorry! Next time, tell me that first.” She bristled. “Why is
he
giving
you
grief? You won that game for him.”

“He needs us—me and Deck and Bam—standing by his side for a press conference. Which means he’ll brief us for a couple of hours on what to say. And what
not
to say.”

“To make
him
look good? That’s horrible.” She sighed. “You should go. But maybe tonight we can talk about the game. We never got a chance, and really, you were so good. Like a commander marshalling his troops. But I loved it best when you ran it yourself. And then when you threw the long ball? Yum.”

He coughed to clear his throat, then said softly, “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I wish you were here. I know you have to be
there
, and that’s cool. But I wish you were here.”

“Me too.” She pressed the phone against her heart for a second, then reminded him, “We’ll talk tonight. And every night. And on Super Bowl Saturday, we’ll go crazy together.”

“Crazy, huh?” He chuckled warmly. “Thanks, babe. That’s exactly what I needed to hear.”