His 24-Hour Wife. Rachel BaileyЧитать онлайн книгу.
“Then step away now and give me a clear shot at the partnership.”
So either she stepped back and let Terence have the partnership, or she stayed and he caused a scandal, meaning he’d probably get the partnership instead of her anyway. Neither of those choices was appealing, but she especially didn’t like giving in to blackmail. She needed time to think. To find a third option. She had to stall him.
“Give me a few days to think about it. Even if I tell the partners I can’t take the assignment I’ll need some time to come up with a believable reason.”
“You have one day. Twenty-four hours.”
The line went dead.
Callie blew out a breath, turned on her heel and headed back to Adam Hawke’s office.
* * *
Adam stood when Rose, his receptionist, buzzed to tell him Callie Mitchell wanted to see him again. It had barely been five minutes since she’d left. He told Rose to let her through, and then had a look around the room for something Callie had forgotten. He couldn’t find anything. But then, he was hardly focused enough to be sure.
Since she’d first made the appointment yesterday, he’d been unsettled. He’d dreamed about her last night, about their time together. About making love to her. Though that wasn’t uncommon—he regularly dreamed about making love to her.
Which just showed how bad she was for his equilibrium. Control over himself and his life was important to him, and Callie made him feel off-center—a feeling he disliked intensely.
Then from the moment she’d appeared through his door this morning, he’d barely had two functioning brain cells to rub together. Hell, he hadn’t even greeted her, just made some inane comment about her hair. Though her reply had been memorable...
He prayed this would be a short visit so he wouldn’t make a fool of himself by blurting out something worse than what she’d said.
After a knock on his door, there she was again, as if conjured from his dreams, her rich, caramel-brown hair hanging sleek around her shoulders, her olive skin smooth. He knew from experience the taste of that skin, and his heart skipped a beat as the memory flooded his senses.
“Did you forget something?” he managed to ask.
She shook her head, her silver-blue, almond-shaped eyes serious. Something had changed.
She tipped up her chin and met his gaze squarely. “We have a problem.”
He was careful not to touch her and set off more memories as he moved behind her to shut the door and lead her to one of the chairs they’d occupied only minutes before.
Once they were settled, he said, “Okay, tell me.”
“A colleague of mine,” she said, her emphasis on the word colleague telling him much, “noticed my surprise when I was given this assignment and started digging. He’s found our marriage license and is threatening to tell the tabloids.”
Adam swore under his breath. “What does he get out of it?”
“He wants this promotion and he wants me out of the way. He thinks the media coverage of your secret Vegas wedding will overshadow any PR work I do for the trust, and he’s probably right. He wants me to refuse the assignment and let him have it.”
“Like hell.” There wasn’t much that Adam hated more than a bully, and he refused to let Callie become the victim of one while he had any power over the situation. “The trust won’t work with a man who’s blackmailed his way to get the role.”
“If I step back and you refuse to work with him, he’ll probably still plant the story out of spite. We’d both still lose.”
Callie’s entire demeanor was professional, but underneath she had to be rattled. Every protective instinct inside him reared up, ready for whatever needed to be done.
“Give me one minute.”
He stood, strode over to his desk and pressed the buzzer for his receptionist. “Rose, cancel all my meetings for the rest of the day.”
“Certainly. Do you want me to give a reason?”
“Just that something unexpected has come up. Then reschedule them as soon as you can.”
“Consider it done.”
He grabbed a legal pad and pen and returned to his wife. It wasn’t just Callie’s job in danger, though that alone would be enough to make him take action. No, he wouldn’t let his stupid mistake create trouble for his brother and future sister-in-law. His Vegas wedding had been out of character for him, and since then he’d taken the consequences seriously—he hadn’t let himself drink more than a glass or two of alcohol at a time, and rarely let his control slip even an inch. This was just another consequence that needed addressing.
And he could fix this. That was what he’d always done in his family—fix things. The only difference was that this time, Callie was the one with the PR expertise.
“So, how do we handle the PR fallout when the story hits the press?”
A tentative smile crept across her face. “You want me to stand up to him?”
“Well, I certainly don’t want you to give in to blackmail.” He frowned, searching her features. “What did you expect me to say?”
“I don’t know. Thing is, I don’t really know you that well, so it’s a pleasant surprise that you’re willing to stand behind me.”
She might not know him as well as, say, his brothers did, but surely she at least knew this much of his character? “Callie, I know our history is a little unconventional, but don’t ever doubt that I’ll stand behind you.”
“Thank you,” she said, and for one brief, shining moment he recognized the passionate woman from Vegas who’d snagged his attention from the moment he’d laid eyes on her in the bar. “That means a lot. And it goes both ways.”
“I appreciate it. Now, what’s our first move?”
She tapped a bright red fingernail against matching red pursed lips as she thought. “We need to get ahead of the story. Be on top of it and create our own story.”
“Sounds good,” he said. “How do we do that?”
“We need to come up with our own version of our wedding.” She rose to her feet and started pacing, her words coming rapidly. “Create a new truth—it was love at first sight. Make it a sweet story, not the sleazy version that the tabloids will want to print, and get that new truth in the media ASAP to beat the other story. My contacts will help get it out quickly.”
Adam made a few notes, and then looked them over. “It doesn’t seem like enough—it will be one version versus the other.”
“True,” she said, holding up an index finger, “but that’s only step one.”
He smiled. “Good.”
“The second part is to give them the current story.”
He made another note on the legal pad and asked without looking up, “What sort of current story?”
“Something about us.” She stopped pacing.
“About us being together?” he asked warily.
“That would be best.” She rested her hands on her hips, her mind obviously going at a million miles per hour. “Perhaps that we’re ready to have a real wedding.”
He hid the instinctive flinch. If they were to find a workable solution, he needed to be open to all ideas in this first brainstorming phase. “How does that help?”
“Then, the story of our Vegas wedding becomes a very sweet, love-at-first-sight beginning to our current relationship and can’t harm my career or your family. I’ll let