The Pitch: City Love 2 (22 page)

“It’s not fair. All my friends are on Facebook.”

“Just because all of your friends are on it, doesn’t make it right.”

I looked between Paul and Jack. They were staring at each other stubbornly and their matching blue eyes held the same icy expression.

Oh boy. I quietly pushed my plate away. It was Sunday night and we’d just finished having dinner.

“Look, Jack,” Paul said calmly. “I understand why you want to be on it, but I need to talk to your mother about it first. As you know, she’s traveling at the moment. Just leave it with me for now, alright?”

Jack narrowed his eyes at his father. “When?”

“I’m not sure when.”

“It’s not fair! You could call her up right now and ask her. Why can’t you give me permission yourself, anyway?”

Paul stifled a sigh beside me. “I’d prefer to discuss this one with your mother.”

“Why don’t you just text her now?”

“I’m not going to text her now, Jack.”

“All you need to do is text her and that’s it. You don’t even need to talk to her.”

Paul pushed his chair away from the table, signaling the end of the discussion. “You’ll just have to wait until I talk to her about this.”

“You suck.”

Noah, who’d been watching the exchange with interest, giggled quietly at his brother’s insult.

Paul ignored Noah and surveyed his eldest son with impressive composure. “That may be, but that’s how it is. And if you think insulting me is the way to get what you want, you’re mistaken.”

Jack shoved his chair back, frustration and contempt etched on his young face. “Fuck you, then.”

I pressed my lips into a thin line and watched as Jack ran out of the room. We heard him stomp loudly up the stairs and a moment later his door slammed shut.

Noah looked at me and then his father with wide brown eyes, not sure what to do.

Paul’s expression softened when he saw his face. “Anything you’d like to add to that, mate?”

“Uh-uh.” Noah shook his head fiercely, his eyes still wide.

Paul ruffled his mop of brown curls. “Good to hear. Now you can go play games until bedtime if you want, but if I hear language like that come out of your mouth, there will be big trouble.”

Noah nodded and shot off into the study like a rocket, smart enough to recognize that his big brother was in deep shit.

Paul waited until we could hear the whine of cars revving on the PlayStation before collapsing into the chair beside me. “Well, that went well.”

“I thought it went very well, actually.”

Paul gave me an incredulous look. “Were you in the same room I was? My son just told me to fuck off.”

I grunted. “Teenagers. It’s bound to happen at some point during the next five years.”

“Good to know I’ve gotten it over with already then. Although I have a strong feeling it won’t be the last time.”

“Seriously, Paul.” I turned to him and laid my hand on his arm. “You’re doing the right thing by imposing some boundaries on him. A lot of fathers in your position would have caved in straight away because they want their son to like them.”

“No hope of that now,” Paul muttered.

“He’ll get over it.”

“Easy for you to say.”

I squeezed his arm. “You’re right, it
is
easy for me to say, but I think you did the right thing.”

“So you don’t think he should be on Facebook?”

“Actually, I think he’s fine to be on it.” Paul shot me a sharp look. “
If
you make him fully aware of the consequences. Giving in too easily would have made it seem like Facebook was no big thing. I think you have to make a big deal out of it so he can learn to be responsible around it.”

With both of us working in media and marketing, we were very much on top of social media. We understood the benefits as well as the downfalls – in this case, the dangers it could represent to a teenager.

Paul sighed and wrapped an arm around my shoulders, pulling me close. “That’s what I think too. I was actually thinking of bringing him into the office one afternoon after school and getting a member of my team from the digital section to educate him about it. He’ll think they’re super cool and will probably listen to them more than me. And I do need to speak to Laura about it.”

“I think that’s a fantastic idea.” I let my head drop onto his shoulder.

He reached up to stroke my hair. “I wish I could have you in my bed tonight,” he said quietly.

“That would be nice, but it’s okay. I’ll walk home a bit later on.”

“You’re not walking home. I’ll drop you home in the car.”

I nuzzled into his shoulder, savoring the warm, spicy scent of him. “Don’t be silly. I’ll walk.”

“I’m driving you.”

I sat up and looked at him. “Honestly, it’s fine. What are you going to do, pack everyone in the car so you can drive me home a mile? It will only take me fifteen minutes to walk.”

“No, I’m going to appeal to Jack’s responsible side.” Paul straightened in his seat and looked at me. I knew that look – he had a plan.

“Alright, explain.”

“He’s almost thirteen. He’s old enough to watch his brother for a few minutes while I drop you home. If he wants to prove to me he’s responsible enough for Facebook, he needs to show me he’s responsible in other ways too. He can also clean up the dishes.”

I chuckled softly. “That’s child slavery.”

“No, it’s called growing up. And it also means you don’t sling swear words at people when you’re frustrated.”

“Do you think he’ll let you into his room?” I agreed that Jack was old enough to watch Noah for a few minutes, but I did wonder if he’d talk to Paul again tonight.

Paul shrugged. “That’s up to him.” He slid his arm out from behind me and stood up. “Time to face the beast.”

“I really don’t mind walking home,” I called out as Paul headed for the stairs, but he ignored me.

*

An hour later we were sitting in Paul’s Audi, which he’d parked out the front of my apartment.

Paul had managed to have a civil discussion with his son and Jack had agreed to Paul’s suggestion of a social media 101 session. He’d even apologized and promised to watch Noah for a short time while Paul dropped me home.

“Thanks for the ride,” I said. Normally I’d ask him to come up, but that didn’t seem appropriate given Jack and Noah were waiting for him at home.

“No problem. Come here.”

I barely had time to register his commanding tone before he reached over and pulled me to him. The car’s center console dug in to my stomach, but I ignored the discomfort in favor of his heartfelt kiss.

“Mmm. I’ve missed you,” he muttered.

“You could come upstairs,” I managed, in between breaths.

“No time.” He crushed my mouth to his again and I shivered as his palms dove underneath my T-shirt to seek out my bare skin.

I fought a moan. I didn’t need to encourage him – or myself. Instead of groping at each other like a couple of sex-crazed teens I needed to be saying goodnight and letting him drive home to his boys.

Paul broke away a moment later with a growl. “This is ridiculous.”

I was about to agree with him when he shoved the car into drive. I watched on in silence, confused. Was he so frustrated he was planning on taking me back to his house? It was a side of him I hadn’t seen before, and I had to admit, I kind of liked it.

We reached the cul-de-sac at the end of my street and, instead of turning around, he cut the engine. We were parked underneath a copse of trees, overshadowing the road like a protective canopy. It was dark below the shelter of the branches and the fluorescent glow of the street lights didn’t reach us.

Paul turned to me, his face barely visible in the dark car. I could just make out the determined look in his eyes. “Come here.”

“I am here.”

“No. Climb over.”

Climb over? I hesitated. “Um – ”

“You’re wearing a skirt aren’t you?”

I looked down at my outfit. He was correct – I was wearing a fitted denim skirt.

He seemed to take my silence as agreement. “Slip off your underwear and climb over here.”

“Are you serious?” My voice had taken a slightly prim, high-pitched tone. It wasn’t that I didn’t want him – of course I wanted him – I just had doubts about getting up to no good with him in full view of the world.

“What happened to the girl who skinny dipped in the pool at Fiji?”

I opened my mouth and then closed it again. I’d been about to say that had been different, but actually it’d been a lot worse. Anyone could have walked into the pool area at any moment and seen us. At least here it was dark and we were in the safety of his car.

He reached over and stroked my cheek, his voice gruff. “It’s Sunday night, not many people are out. The car windows are tinted and no one can really see us parked here. I need you, Madeleine.”

That did it. My heart pounding against my rib cage, I slid my underwear off and kicked them to the floor of the car. I looked over at Paul for reassurance. He was already unbuttoning his jeans.

I couldn’t believe I was doing this. We were acting like a pair of love struck seventeen-year-olds. I took a deep breath. “You’re going to need to move your seat back if you expect both of us to fit over there,” I instructed.

Paul quickly did as I’d suggested then waited for me.

I shook my head at his boyish grin, then shifted my skirt up enough so that I was able to climb awkwardly over the center console. Crouched in his lap, there was barely room for my legs on either side of his.

“This is so romantic,” I complained.

Paul ignored my whining and gently, but firmly, lowered me down on top of him. I gasped loudly. The full length of him filled me and I lurched forward into his chest as a series of deep shudders overtook my body. “Shit, Paul,” I hissed.

“That’s it,” he whispered. His lips found my neck and his breathing was rapid in my ear. I moaned and gave in to the sensations rocking my body, tilting my hips back to take him deeper.

“Jesus,” he groaned.

“If I recall, we need to be quick.”

His fingers dug into my hips and we started moving together, as much as the confined space would allow.

Paul nipped at my ear. “If
I
recall, this is what’s called getting creative.”

I laughed into his shoulder, deciding to forget my inhibitions and just enjoy the ride.

“You look awfully happy this morning.”

I looked up to find Christa leaning against my office door, surveying me with watchful blue eyes. I cleared my throat. I’d been humming to myself while reviewing this month’s revenue forecasts. “No happier than usual.”

Christa narrowed her eyes at me and settled herself comfortably into a chair. “Rubbish. It’s the first full week back at work after the Christmas break and everyone else is walking around in denial. You, on the other hand, look genuinely happy to be here.”

“I am.” At Christa’s suspicious expression, I added, “It’s my business, remember?”

“And you’ve just had a blissful week in Hawaii followed by a few relaxed days with Paul. You shouldn’t be happy to be back at work. Something’s going on.”

“Nothing’s going on.”

“You’ve had sex.”

I coughed and looked around desperately for a drink. A long cold cup of coffee sat next to my computer but I grabbed for it anyway. Once I’d taken a sip of the questionable liquid I leveled my gaze at Christa. “You’re starting to sound like Scarlett.”

“And you’re not answering my question.”

“It wasn’t a question, it was a statement,” I replied perversely.

“And you’re not denying it.” Christa crossed her arms, looking very happy with herself.

“For God’s sake, I’m a grown woman and he’s my boyfriend.”

“Who isn’t letting you stay over at his house at the moment on account of his children, so spill.”

“This is ridiculous – ”

“Did he somehow drop over to your place for a quickie?”

“Christa.” My voice held a warning tone. Best friend or not, she was pushing the bounds of propriety. My bounds anyway.

She ignored me. “No, alright. Then where else could you have managed it? The beach? Nah, too busy at this time of year. Although you did skinny dip in the pool at Fiji – ”

“Seriously, Bubbles! This is not a work appropriate conversation,” I said impatiently, then sighed. “It was in the car, alright. Now can we just move on?”

Judging by the salacious grin emerging on her face, no, we weren’t about to move on. “No way! That’s awesome. How? When?”

“Last night when he dropped me home,” I ground out, wondering if it would cause a stir if I threw her out of my office.

“The whole hog? Or did you just, you know, do other things? How teenage of you!”

I cleared my throat and gave her what I hoped was a threatening look, but it was hard to look threatening when she appeared so ecstatic.

“Oh wow. The whole shebang. I’m jealous. That’s so sneaky of you both. Maybe I should try pouncing on Max sometime like that … although I don’t like my chances in his Porsche, not enough room, but I certainly think it could be worth trying – ”

“Bubbles!”

She stopped and looked at me, a little shocked. “What?”

“Don’t you have something you should be working on?”

“A few things, but nothing that’s urgent.” She seemed to have conveniently forgotten she was also talking to her boss.

“Well, I’m suggesting you take a proactive approach and go and get on with it then.”

Christa’s smile faded. “You’re no fun. But hey, Greg’s wife was right, wasn’t she? Creativity is key.”

I reddened, much to my frustration. Creativity was indeed key. Although our lovemaking session in Paul’s car had been brief, it had left me feeling extremely satisfied.

“Mmm. I think I definitely need to surprise Max, judging by your pained silence. Who would have thought? Sex teenage style. What do you think you’ll try next?”

“Excuse me?”

“Well, as much fun as you appeared to have, I’m not sure Paul’s motor vehicle is the solution to all your problems. You’ll need to come up with some more creative options.”

I hadn’t thought about that. I’d been too busy basking in my post-coital glow to worry about how we’d manage to satisfy ourselves again.

Christa drummed her fingers on the arm of the chair. A second later her face lit up and she practically bounced out of her seat. “Oh my God! I’ve got it and it’s so good, I might even try it.”

I let out something resembling a sigh and a groan. She wasn’t going to go away until she’d shared it with me, so I waited.

She leaned in, the salacious grin back on her face. “You book a room at a hotel during your lunch hour and take a long lunch. It’s easy for you both to claim you’re out at meetings. Then you text him with an address, a room number, and a time. It’s so sexy, I think I’m actually jealous of you.”

I bit my lip thoughtfully. Good God, she might just be on to something. “That’s not a bad idea,” I admitted.

“I told you! It’s got this whole edge of forbidden love affair, but the best thing is you’re not cheating on anyone. It’s all completely ethical.”

“Except for the fact that I’ll be getting up to no good during work hours.” I could just imagine my mother taking my calls:
No, I’m sorry. Madeleine isn’t available right now. She’s at a hotel having wild sex, but should be back later this afternoon.
I shook the image from my head and returned my attention to Christa.

“Come on. It’s a great idea, isn’t it?”

I nodded reluctantly. “I’ll give it to you.”

“I’m so happy I could help.” Christa stood, appearing to have forgotten her holiday blues. “Let me know how it goes.”

“Do I have a choice?”

“Well, you could go for the Four Seasons, or perhaps the Hilton, but you might want to consider the Harborview hotel near Paul’s work – ”

“Got it! Thanks.”

I waited until she’d bounced happily from my office before I smiled. I was definitely more of a private person compared to some of my girlfriends, but I was willing to concede Christa’s interference on this due to one very obvious fact: it was a bloody brilliant idea.

The rest of the day passed easily. A lot of our clients were still on summer holidays, so it gave me a chance to focus on some business administration and planning for the new calendar year. By the time it was five in the evening, I was feeling very satisfied with the day’s productivity. I’d even checked out some nearby hotels online and had a dirty little plan forming in my mind. As I shut down my computer and started to gather up my things to go home for the day, my mobile rang.

Mia from ACB Bank. Wasn’t she on holidays?

I felt unsettled as I hit the answer button. “Hi Mia. Happy New Year. Shouldn’t you be on a beach somewhere?”

“I am, as it turns out. And Happy New Year back at you. Look, I’m not going to mince words because this is a shit situation so I’m just going to spit it out.”

“Alright,” I answered, feeling even more unsettled.

“The board have canned the campaign.”

What?
Instead I managed to say, “I’m sorry, can you repeat that?”

“The board. They don’t want us to run the campaign. They’ve changed their mind about the creative and they want a new approach.”

I leaned over and gripped the edge of my desk. “That’s unexpected. When would they like to start the revised campaign?”

“Same start time. In two weeks.”

Holy shit. Was this woman fucking crazy? The campaign spend was the biggest Grounded Marketing had ever handled, coming in at over two million dollars. How could we pull something new together in two weeks? The current campaign had taken months of development and planning. Not to mention half my staff were currently on summer holidays.

“Are you still there, Madeleine?” Mia asked.

“I’m still here.” I lowered myself into my chair. “As you can imagine this is a little unexpected. The board and all the stakeholders signed off on the campaign before Christmas.” I didn’t want to sound unprofessional, but I was having a hard time coming to terms with their decision.

“Yeah, tell me about it. I get a fricking call while I’m sitting up here roasting my ass in the Whitsundays. The big boss basically tells me in no uncertain terms to pack up my shit and fly home to oversee the changes.”

“Oh, Mia, I’m sorry.” My sympathy was genuine. I really liked Mia and it was becoming clear she had nothing to do with the decision.

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll make them compensate me, you can be sure of it. But what can I say? That’s big business for you. And banks are the worst, believe me.”

I wasn’t going to argue with her. The adrenaline pumping through my body was starting to settle and I found that I was able to think straight again. “So, what do we need to do? A meeting as soon as possible to take a brief for the revised creative would be my suggestion.”

“I’m flying home first thing in the morning. Are you free tomorrow afternoon?”

“Name the time and we’ll be there,” I confirmed.

“I’ll email you in an hour or two with the details. In the meantime, you’ll have to forgive me because I’m going to hang up on you and enjoy the last hours of my holiday while I can.”

“You do that. Before you go, is the media schedule changing? Will we need Paul and the NTRtain team in on the meeting?”

“No, thank God. I’ve convinced the board to leave it as is. As soon as I informed them we’d lose massive amounts of face with the major media outlets for fucking with a multi-million dollar campaign, they backed off. So it’s just you we’re screwing over, I’m afraid.”

“That’s good to know,” I replied. “Email me as late as you like, I’ll pick it up.”

“Okay. Later, Madeleine. Sorry for ruining your day.”

“Enjoy the beach.”

Mia grunted, clearly as unimpressed as I was, and ended the call.

I stared at my mobile phone. Shit. Bugger. Unfuckingbelievable. I generally wasn’t a swearing woman, which was why I wasn’t yelling the words out loud, but boy, did I want to.

I started pacing my office, determined to push aside my indignation and just get on with what had to be done. But there wasn’t a lot I could do right now. The hard yards would come after our meeting tomorrow and I knew I’d be living at work the next couple of weeks. I suddenly had a strong craving for some of my dad’s best whiskey. All I’d ever wanted was a big client like ACB for Grounded Marketing. Now it seemed like I was going to have to go to hell and back to keep them satisfied.

That’s if I managed to survive.