One Night for Love (10 page)

The weeks flew by. Prim spent every night with Tristan and each day at Metro. Together they went through every client, every deal, and every project. With each bit of information, she hoped that Tristan would see the value of keeping Metro Media a whole entity instead of butchering the company into bits.

This very morning she’d awakened to an empty bed and a note saying that he’d left early to surf and would meet her at the office. She now rested against the black leather seats of the town car on her way from Malibu to Metro’s Santa Monica offices. She scrolled through her e-mails, reading and deleting and trying to get prepared for another long day working on the transition of Ryan’s Metro Media to Tristan’s. Her phone pinged and she looked down at the latest e-mails.

Two from Meg, and there on her screen was a missed voice mail from her mum. When was the last time she’d actually spoken with her mum? Of course Prim had an easy excuse with the eight-hour time difference in London, but she relied on that excuse far too often.

Prim opened an e-mail from Meg. The first outlined in detail Cole’s upcoming birthday party and the second was an invitation sent to both her and Tristan to join Meg and Cole for dinner.

No. No. No. Her eyelids closed and she pressed her fingertips to her forehead. Panic crept slowly into her belly. She was already feeling much too attached to Tristan. Letting him meet her dearest friend made this confusing affair even more so. There wasn’t much time left in their three-month agreement, and her heart needed to prepare for the inevitable. This relationship would end. She wanted it to end, didn’t she?

She reread the e-mail from Meg. Irritation congealed in her chest. What the hell? Her phone pinged. In her in-box was a response from Tristan to Meg.

We’d love to.

Tristan

Oh no. She would most definitely not love to. A long deep breath. She’d consider this dinner invitation a work-related event. Cole owned Comnet, Metro Media’s biggest competitor, and Meg ran TBC. TBC’s content was currently distributed by Cole’s company, but that contract would be up for renegotiation soon, and of course, regardless of Meg’s relationship with Cole, Metro Media would make an attempt to get TBC’s business. Plus, Meg had mentioned she wanted to expand TBC, to start a sister company that created edgier content. The new company would need a distributor, and Metro would compete for that contract as well. So yes, another deep breath entered her lungs; they would go to this dinner not as a couple, but as working professionals.

Who was she kidding?

Meg was being meddlesome. She’d invited them to dinner to not only prove a point but also to see how Prim and Tristan interacted. Prim’s phone beeped and she answered.

“Seriously?”

“What?” Meg said. “It’s a friendly invitation.”

“It’s a test.”

“No,” Meg said. “You are my friend and he is the owner of a company that wants to distribute my product. Of course I have to invite him to dinner.”

“Now? You have to invite him to dinner now?” Prim’s fist balled on her lap.

“You’re having a tough time?” Meg’s tone shifted from coy and teasing to serious and thoughtful.

Prim’s entire body sagged under the weight of her best friend’s question. “I think …” She looked out the window as the Pacific raced by. “I think you were right. I think I’m falling for him. Or have fallen already.”

A loud sigh came over the phone. “Oh, Prim, I’m so sorry.”

 “Don’t be,” she said. “It’s my own damn fault.
It’s just sex; I can keep it casual.
I think those were
my
words.”

“How does he feel?”

Prim’s lips rolled into a line. How
did
Tristan feel? He hadn’t said and she hadn’t asked. “I don’t know.”

“How many more weeks?”

“Two,” Prim said. “It would seem I’m failing on all fronts. I’ve fallen for Tristan Rhodes and failed to prevent him from slicing and dicing Metro.”

“You don’t know that he doesn’t feel the same for you, and you can’t know about the second for certain.”

“We’ve been sleeping together every day and every night for nearly three months. I know a bit about the man. I see him preparing for my departure. Covert talks with Business Affairs, the assessment of contracts, even a few vague offers I’ve heard rumblings about.”

“Ask him about both.”

“It’s not that easy. I want him to see the inherent value before he makes his final decision.”

“About?” Meg said.

“Both, I suppose,” Prim said. “Metro Media and me.”

Fifteen minutes later, the car pulled to a stop beside Tristan’s private elevator. Prim had fixed her makeup and made certain her hair was in place. She would not traipse through Metro with her emotions so clearly etched on her face.

Her phone buzzed and she pressed it to her ear. “Yes?” Prim said without even checking the number, her tone much sharper than she wanted.

“Not the hello I’d expected,” Tristan said. There was no lilt in his voice either, his tone all business. “Did you get my message?”

“What message?” Prim asked. And how had he beaten her to the office?

“My e-mail about Roger Macon.”

“What about Roger? The Flixster deal is closed. Didn’t the paperwork come in?”

“The paperwork I received from Roger wasn’t the paperwork we expected. He’s not sure he wants to give us the deal.”

“What?” The skin between Prim’s eyebrows crinkled. “I’ve worked on that deal for months. That dinner with all three of us was simply a formality. We are closed.”

“We’re not closed until he signs the contract. Which he hasn’t done. He’s gotten cold feet.”

“Are you kidding me?” The elevator doors opened onto the executive floor and Prim walked down the hall to Tristan’s office. She opened his door, pulled her phone from her ear, and gazed at Tristan.

“Do I look like I’m kidding?” Tristan asked. Morning freshness and sexuality oozed from him even in this moment of irritation. This wasn’t a joke. Roger was balking on the Flixster deal.

“We’re going to see him. We leave for San Francisco at four.”

She turned and walked away from Tristan’s office. What was going on with Roger? She’d played countless rounds of golf with him, taken him to premieres, gotten courtside seats at Lakers games. What the hell else could he possibly want? He’d been sufficiently courted and now it was time to walk down the aisle.

Prim scrolled through her e-mail and got to the one from Tristan in which he’d forwarded Roger’s e-mail to her. There was nothing of substance within the e-mail. No new deal points, nothing left to negotiate. All the e-mail from Roger contained was a bunch of pansy words about how he wasn’t sure and maybe Metro Media wasn’t a good fit for Flixster.

“For fuck’s sake,” Prim mumbled under her breath. “Grow a fucking pair.” She waved at her assistant and walked into her office. She did not want to fly to San Francisco and then drive to Napa so that she could further convince Roger that Metro was the right fit for Flixster. But she would. She would meet face-to-face with him and hold his hand while he signed the contract. She wasn’t about to let some wishy-washy, overemotional CEO renege on his deal with Tristan, much as she would never renege on hers.

To take Prim on the plane in the private suite, thousands of feet above the earth, was a tempting idea, but now wasn’t the time. One reason Metro had been a good buy even at Ryan’s asking price was the pending Flixster deal. The Flixster deal was the original reason why Tristan had agreed to keep Prim on at Metro for three months. Prim had wooed Roger Macon over the last year. Ryan Murphy was too deep in his grief to put forth the effort necessary for Flixster. While Ryan appeared at Metro events in which his presence was needed, after the death of Paloma, his heart had no longer been in growing his business.

Prim had held Metro Media together for the year. She’d never let anyone know that it was she and not Ryan building the business of Metro. She could have ousted Ryan. She could have scooped up the company for herself. She could have even helped with a hostile takeover and paid much less than Tristan had paid, but Prim hadn’t done any of those things.

Why not?

Across the aisle, Prim sat with her iPad. Big thick glasses sat on the bridge of her nose, the kind of ocular device that if not worn by a beautiful woman would look very old and very unhip. Prim hadn’t stolen Metro from Ryan because she was loyal. A rare trait in business, one absent in even Tristan’s own family. She was studying a recent report sent to her by a contact at Flixster, attempting to decipher what was wrong with Roger.

“I don’t understand,” Prim said and shook her head. “Every deal point remains the same as the night we had dinner.” She looked up and a sharp frown creased her brows. “Roger stood in front of us and shook both our hands.”

Tristan pulled at his tie, loosening the knot at his throat. He tilted the glass of bourbon to his lips and took a slow sip. “He didn’t change his mind because of the deal.”

“He’s scared.”

“Why?” Tristan had his own theories about Roger Macon, but he wanted to hear Prim’s. How did her mind work? How, over the last year, had she sussed out her prey? Flushed Roger from whatever little quirks he maintained? How had she circumnavigated Roger’s futile attempt to camouflage his sad little vulnerabilities?

“Let’s see,” Prim said. “He’s never built a company. He’s hardly had to work. He’s been handed everything. His father retired eighteen months ago and the deal with Metro is the first substantial deal he’s done since his father’s retirement.”

Tristan nodded. “And I think we have a winner.”

“I try.” A smile split Prim’s face. “Now we go to Roger and we coddle him. We make him feel secure and comfortable.”

Tristan tilted his head. “I think there is more to it than just business.”

The idea that there was something she’d missed appeared to be utterly foreign to her. “You know I’ve been working on this deal with Roger for nearly nine months. I’ve profiled and read and figured out what not only makes him tick but also his family.”

“Right,” Tristan said. “Maybe you missed something.”

“Missed something?” Prim’s eyes narrowed.

She had been the de facto leader of Metro since Ryan’s loss of Paloma. The entire staff looked to Prim for guidance. No one had questioned her ability or her reasoning for going on a year. And while Tristan found her amazingly attractive and remarkably bright, he didn’t find her infallible.

“He has feelings for you.”

Pink raced up her neck and bloomed on her cheeks.

“Me?” She pointed her finger toward herself and traced the sliver of skin that led to her décolletage.

Tristan cleared his throat and glanced at his drink. Her effect on him was staggering, so yes, he could understand why Roger needed to see Prim again. Why Roger might feel surprised and shocked that his overtures had not been received in the way in which he intended. It wasn’t often that a man with Roger’s money was rebuffed.

“You.” Tristan raised his whiskey to his lips. He looked over the rim of the crystal glass as Prim’s eyes widened with his suggestion. “Were you completely unaware that you’re the crown jewel that Macon intended to collect in his deal with Metro Media?”

“What are you implying? Are you saying that I put myself out there as a possible win if he made the deal?”

Tristan held up his hand. “Pull back, princess. No, that’s absolutely not what I’m saying. You courted Roger; this went on for nine months. He did not begin the process thinking that you would be part of the deal. I don’t think if he were to admit to his feelings that he ever thought you were part of the deal, but what I do believe happened is that he fell for you and he’s quite shocked the feelings aren’t mutual. I’ve done a bit of research—women don’t usually tell Roger Macon no.”

 “I have no intention of telling him yes.”

“I understand. The part of me who is fixated on you, infatuated with your skin, your hair, and your touch would like nothing more than to disembowel Roger for even entertaining such thoughts about you. But the businessman in me, the one who spent millions of dollars for Metro Media, a huge part of that value based on the closure of this deal, wants this deal locked down no matter what we have to do.”

“So you’re telling me to sleep with him?”

“Absolutely fucking not.” Tristan’s voice grew rough and heat rushed to his face. Tension gripped his jaw and neck. He pulled at his tie and looked away from her. The idea of her with another man? He took another pull of his whiskey, cleared his throat, and turned back toward Prim. “No,” he continued. “I thought I was clear about that when I mentioned disemboweling Roger.”

“You were. Sorry.”

“Even though I would prefer to punch him in the nose, what we have to do is give him a way to save face. We want him to walk away from his feelings for you without feeling shunned. Flixster’s agreement with Metro is meant to go on for the next seven years, and your departure from Metro Media is imminent. I don’t want my company leaving an awful memory in his mind. Every time he thinks of my company, he also thinks of the woman he couldn’t get. If he were self-made I wouldn’t be concerned, but he’s like a petulant child.”

Prim played with one of the earrings that dangled from her ears. It quivered gently against her long, beautiful neck. Her skin would feel soft beneath his fingertips. To roam over her collarbone and unbutton her silk shirt. To cup those breasts that were quickly becoming familiar to his hands and that he longed to kiss and—

“So what do you suggest?”

“Hmm?” Tristan pulled his eyes from Prim’s breasts. Her nipples were tight buds under the lace bra that peeked through her white silk blouse.

“Make Roger believe there’s a reason you couldn’t become involved with him, because you are involved with someone else.”

Her full lips dropped open. She blinked and then looked away from him. “One of our deal points was privacy.”

“Right. Well why don’t we pretend we’re more serious than we are? That what’s going on between us is actually real. Seems like a win for everyone. He gets to save face and we get the deal.”