Billionaire's Contract Engagement / Money Man's Fiancée Negotiation (10 page)

She purposely toned down her looks, choosing subtle makeup. She did nothing to highlight her eyes, which were her best feature. And she pulled her hair back into a tight knot and used hairspray to keep the wispy tendrils from escaping. She wanted no distractions. No sizzling looks. No temptation to do something utterly stupid.

To her immense relief, when she walked out of her bedroom, Evan was in total business mode. He didn't stare at her like he was set to devour her. He gave her a cursory glance and motioned for her to sit across from him at the dining table where breakfast had already been served.

“We can eat and talk, or we can eat and then talk. Strictly up to you,” he said when she took her seat.

“We can eat and talk,” she said. “I'm not using props or anything, and I planned it to be more conversational than a formal presentation.”

He nodded approvingly. “Great. Let's dig in and get started then.”

There was a moment of transition where they ate in silence before Celia shut off everything but the task at hand. This was her career and she knew she was damn good at it. She hadn't
gotten to where she was and survived the pitfalls without the ability to put her game face on in the face of adversity.

“I studied your last ad campaign, and I believe you're missing a huge segment of your target audience.”

He blinked, set his fork down and stared across at her. “Okay, you have my attention.”

“Perhaps I should put it another way. I think you're not targeting the right audience. You're missing a huge opportunity.”

She paused for effect and then segued into her spiel.

“Right now you appeal to the sports crowd. The guy who jogs. The woman who goes to the gym. The person who cares about staying in shape. You're all about functionality. The kids who play sports. The guys who play racquetball at the club. The casual basketball game on the weekends.”

Evan nodded.

“Then there are the people, like me, who are allergic to physical activity.”

He snorted and sent an appraising look over her body.

She ignored him and continued on.

“These are the people who watch sports. They're tuned in to every game. The players. The teams. They run the gambit from the fanatic to the casual observer. They're the people who will buy your sportswear not because they're going to worry over the functionality. They don't care. They want to look cool. They want to immerse themselves in the aura of the sports world. You're a brand, a label. It's a status symbol.”

Her excitement mounted with every word. He was listening intently. She had him.

“So you do dual marketing. You go after the die-hard fitness enthusiast with the sweaty workout commercials. The driven athlete who's going to be the best and wearing your brand the entire time.”

Again she paused to gauge his reaction, and he was leaning forward, his brow creased in concentration.

“Then you go after the men and the women and the kids
who want your clothing and your shoes because they look good. Because they make them feel athletic without ever lifting a finger. You show them someone looking cool and sophisticated in your clothing. You show them it's hip to have Reese Wear. They can be average, everyday Joes and still know what it feels like to be a star.”

Then she went for the kill shot. Her excitement mounted because she knew he was interested. This had nothing to do with personal attraction. He was all business right now and his eyes gleamed with enthusiasm.

“And the person you show to both of these groups, the man you have doing the sweaty, driven shoots and the cool, suave commercials is Noah Hart.”

Evan's eyes widened a fraction, and then he sat back in his seat. “Wait a minute.”

She waited, trying valiantly to hide her smug grin. This would be the fun part.

“You're telling me you can get me Noah Hart?” He didn't even wait for her to reply. “Companies have been after Noah Hart ever since he entered the major leagues.”

“Before,” she said airily. “They wanted him out of college.”

“Whatever. The point is, the man has never agreed to an endorsement deal. What makes you think you can change his mind?”

“And if I told you he's willing to talk to you?”

“No way,” Evan breathed.

“It'll cost you.”

“Hell, it would be worth it!” His eyes narrowed again. “He'll talk to me. You've already been in contact with him?”

“I might have mentioned the possibility of you doing a new ad campaign.”

“And he's interested?”

“He'll talk to you. I provided him research, which means you passed the first round of scrutiny with him. He's a hard guy. You land him and it'll be huge. Not only will you have a
kick-ass ad campaign, but you'll also be the guy who signed Noah Hart.”

“I'd want exclusivity,” Evan said quickly.

“You'd have to be prepared to pay for that privilege,” Celia pointed out. She wasn't about to tell Evan that exclusivity or not, the chances of Noah agreeing to do another deal with someone else was slim to none. The man simply wasn't motivated by money.

“Okay, let's forget Noah Hart for the moment. I like your ideas, Celia. I mean, the average Joe has never escaped my notice, but you're right. I've never gone after him in marketing. My commercials are always about the drive to succeed. I talk to the athlete in all of us.”

“Which I've just pointed out doesn't exist in everyone,” she said drily.

“Yes, you're right. Completely. The junior-high kid trying to look cool. Huge market there that I've yet to tap.”

“Most of my ideas are about how to structure television commercials, Internet advertising and print media to target all segments of the population from the die-hard sports and fitness enthusiast to Suzy Homemaker who just wants a comfortable pair of tennis shoes. We'd speak separately to teens, young adults all the way up to the retired folks.”

Evan nodded. “I'm interested. Definitely interested. When can you have a presentation put together for me? As I said before, I'm ready to move on this. I don't mind taking a little extra time if I can be guaranteed better results.”

“You tell me when you can meet with us at Maddox and I'll arrange it,” she said evenly.

“And Noah Hart?”

“I'll arrange it as soon as we get back.”

“Then I'd say you've got your pitch appointment, Celia. I'm very impressed with what you've had to say. If your presentation delivers on the promise of your ideas, it's something my company will be very excited about.”

Though she had every confidence in her ability to win him
over, his enthusiasm gave her a wicked thrill. She was forced to play it cool and smile politely as she thanked him, but on the inside she was doing an insane victory dance.

She had phone calls to make. Brock would need to know so they could start preparing. They'd want to do mock-ups of the advertising and have it prominently displayed on the television monitors in the Maddox reception area. On the day she'd give Evan her presentation, Maddox Communications would be all about Reese Enterprises. No one else would exist in the timeframe Evan was present in their offices.

“You have to tell me how you managed to get Noah Hart to agree to talk to me,” Evan said as he pushed his plate aside.

A small smile flirted at the edges of her mouth and she suppressed the urge to grin broadly.

“I can't reveal all my secrets.”

“You pull this off and you'll be legendary,” Evan said. “The man has never so much as been tempted to take a deal.”

Okay, now she felt a little like a fraud. Legendary indeed. While she did love having an ace up her sleeve, she felt a little squeamish over Evan's praise. Noah Hart was her big brother, and the truth was, there wasn't much he wouldn't do for his little sister. Never mind that she'd never asked him for any such favor before. She was this time, and it was the only reason Noah was contemplating breaking his long-held policy.

“Don't fawn yet,” she murmured. “He might prove to be too expensive for you.”

Evan's eyes glinted with a predatory gleam. He had the look of a man sure of himself and all things.

“I've not found many things in life that proved to be too expensive. I may not always want to pay the price, but rarely have I found them out of my range.”

She smiled. “I sensed that about you, which is why I thought you might be the one Noah would come to terms with. I think the two of you are probably a lot alike.”

Evan cocked his head to the side. “Just how well do you know him?”

Her lips lifted again, but she didn't answer. Evan's BlackBerry rang and provided much needed distraction. She wasn't ready to tell Evan about her relationship with Noah. Not yet.

She tuned into Evan's conversation when he said her name. He was obviously talking to his mom.

“We'll be there this afternoon. Four o'clock. Yes, I know. I won't miss it. Dinner afterward. Celia and I are having lunch together down by the marina. We'll meet you back at the hotel in time for rehearsal. You have my word.”

He hung up and let out a sigh as he tucked the phone back into his pocket.

“The woman is convinced I'll flake on the wedding. I wonder how on earth she got that idea?”

It was said so innocently that Celia burst into laughter. Evan joined her and business was effectively put back out of the way once more.

T
he nice lunch by the harbor never happened. As Evan and Celia were leaving the hotel, they ran into Evan's parents and Mitchell and Bettina.

Lucy was thrilled, since they were on their way to lunch, as well, and she suggested they eat together before they gathered on the terrace for the very informal rehearsal.

It amused Celia that there would even be an actual rehearsal of the ceremony since it wasn't a big affair and the bride and groom only had two attendants each. Still, it was evidently important to keep up appearances because they were going all out with a full-blown rehearsal and a dinner and party afterward.

Bettina acted less than thrilled that Celia and Evan would be joining them for lunch. Mitchell was visibly uncomfortable. When they were seated, as luck would have it, Evan and Celia were placed across the table from Bettina and Mitchell while Lucy and Marshall sat on the ends.

As a result, Celia was treated to Bettina's malevolent stare.
The woman wasn't even subtle about it. She picked Celia apart like a bug under a microscope.

Evan reached for her hand under the table and gave her a squeeze. She couldn't figure out if it was a gesture of support, sympathy or a thank-you.

She turned and gave him a smile. For a long moment their gazes locked and he smiled back.

“Tell me, Celia, what is it that you do? Evan tells me you live in San Francisco. Will you be moving once you and Evan are married?”

Celia turned to Lucy in surprise. The questions were natural for a mother to ask, but Celia hadn't been prepared for them. Who was she kidding? She hadn't been prepared for any of this.

“Celia is a crack advertising executive,” Evan smoothly inserted. “We haven't discussed where we'll live after we're married. Her career is very important to her. I'd never expect her to give it up.”

Oh, the man was good. If she was getting married, she'd want the guy she was marrying to say exactly what Evan had said, and she'd want him to mean every word.

Bettina sniffed. “But don't you feel a woman's place is at home with the children? You do plan on having children don't you?”

Celia frowned as she stared at the other woman. Was she for real? Granted she was young. Celia guessed she was in her early twenties. What the hell had Evan been thinking when he'd hooked up with her in the first place? She was practically an infant and Evan had to be pushing forty.

“I don't see that it's any of your concern whether I want children or not and as for where my place is, it's wherever I'm the happiest,” Celia said. “I fail to see how I could possibly be the best wife and mother by staying at home and being miserable.”

Bettina looked genuinely confused. “I feel it's important for
a woman not to overshadow her husband. A husband's job is to provide for his family. I'd never take that away from him.”

Celia snorted. “You keep telling yourself that, honey. Call me up when your provider husband has decided he no longer wants that job and is going to leave you and the children to go find himself. Then tell me how important it was for you to depend solely on him for your support, and then tell me how easy it is to go find a job making enough money to support yourself and your children when the sole job experience on your resume is changing diapers and cooking dinner.”

Evan choked on his laughter while Lucy's eyes widened in shock. Mitchell looked a little green while Bettina's mouth hung open. Marshall cleared his throat and actually looked at Celia with something akin to respect.

“Well said, young lady. A woman should never put the welfare of herself and her children solely in her husband's hands no matter how solid the relationship.”

“Marshall!”

Lucy sounded positively scandalized.

Evan sat back and looked at his dad. “You see why I'm so determined to marry her. If my company ever goes bankrupt, I can stay at home and let her support me.”

The two men burst into laughter and Evan squeezed her hand harder.

“Have you two set a date yet?” Mitchell asked, entering the conversation for the first time.

He'd been strangely silent, and he'd studied her and Evan until Celia squirmed under his scrutiny.

Not wanting Evan to do all the talking, even if this was his charade and not hers, she smiled and looked back at Mitchell.

“He's only just convinced me to marry him. I did make him wait, and he had to ask me several times.”

Evan squeezed again only this time it was a definite retaliation squeeze. She grinned and plunged ahead.