Sleepless In Manhattan. Sarah MorganЧитать онлайн книгу.
are the most important thing. More important than how you structure the company, than what your website looks like, whether you have a video of flying pigs on your splash page. Ask yourself what your customers need, and then ask yourself why they’re going to come to you. If you make your offering too broad, people won’t automatically think of you. Too niche and you could find yourself without business. What value are you going to place on your service?”
She found it hard to focus on business while the velvet stroke of his voice was teasing her senses.
“We can’t afford to narrow what we offer. We’ll take whatever business we can get.”
“Don’t undersell yourself. You’ll be brilliant, Paige.” His words drove the breath from her lungs.
“From insults to compliments. You’re giving me whiplash.”
“It’s the truth. You’re a born organizer. Your attention to detail borders on the aggravating.”
She almost smiled. “Maybe you should be quiet now, before you spoil it.”
His soft laugh broke the simmering silence. “Paige, you have a checklist for movie night so that we don’t forget anything, even though forgetting something simply means walking down a couple of flights of stairs. You remember everyone’s birthdays and have a record of every gift you’ve sent every person you know since time immemorial. You probably have notes on what you cooked someone for dinner two years ago.”
“I do.” She frowned. “What’s wrong with that? Some people have food allergies. I like to make a note.”
“That’s my point. You take notes on everything. You miss nothing. You will be so good at this job your competition will give up and cry. I almost feel sorry for them.”
“You do?”
“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean I’m not going to enjoy watching you kick their butts.”
“There’s a lot that could go wrong.”
“And plenty that can go right.”
Because her knees were unsteady, she gripped the railing in front of her, fixing her gaze on the shimmering lights of Manhattan. From here it looked glamorous and tempting, a world of opportunity. “I don’t know if I’m brave enough to do it.” The confession spilled from her and she felt Jake’s fingers slide over hers, the pressure of his hand sure and strong.
“You’re the bravest person I have ever met.”
His touch was so surprising that she almost snatched her hand away. Instead, she stood, her hand trapped by his just as her heart had been trapped all those years before.
“I’m not brave.” She turned to look at him. He was standing closer to her than she’d thought, his face right there, angled toward hers with attentive concern.
The urge to lift herself on her toes and press her mouth to the sensual curve of his was almost overwhelming, but she stayed still, her willpower sufficiently robust to stop her moving forward but not robust enough to make her step back.
Laughter drifted across from the far end of the terrace but neither of them turned.
Slowly, he disentangled his fingers from hers, but instead of putting distance between them he lifted his hand and brushed her cheek.
She stayed still, her gaze trapped by the molten shimmer in his. She couldn’t have looked away if her life had depended on it.
Usually he teased her, goaded her, drove her insane.
It was as if he’d tried to give her a thousand reasons to fall out of love with him.
This tenderness was something she hadn’t seen in him since she was a teenager, and seeing it now caused a sharp pang of pain.
She’d missed this. She’d missed this easy relationship, his wisdom and his kindness.
She swallowed. “When you have no choice, it isn’t brave.”
“Of course it is.” His mouth tilted in a half smile and she felt a twinge of envy for all the women he’d kissed.
Unfortunately she wasn’t one of them.
And she never would be.
Unsettled, frustrated with herself for spinning fantasies when reality was right in her face, she turned away. “Thanks for the advice.”
“I’ll give you one more piece.” He didn’t try and touch her again, but his voice held her captive. “Weigh up the pros and cons, but don’t overthink this. If you focus on the risks, you’d never do anything.”
“I feel as if I’ve lost my security.”
“Your security wasn’t the job, Paige. Jobs come and go. You give yourself security, with your skills and your talent. You can take those elsewhere. What you did for Star Events, you can do for another company, including your own company.”
His words gave her a burst of much-needed confidence.
And they made sense to her.
She felt like a wilting plant that had suddenly been given a large drink of water.
“Thank you.” Her voice was croaky and he gave a smile.
“When you find yourself working eighteen-hour days for seven days a week you might not want to thank me.” Jake strolled off to rejoin the others but Paige stayed where she was for a moment, thinking about what he’d said.
You give yourself security.
Eva and Frankie were laughing at something Matt had said and it was so good to hear them laughing that her own spirits lifted.
She walked back to them. “What’s funny?”
“We’ve been thinking up company names.”
“And?” She could still feel Jake’s touch on her hand, and she wondered how the casual brush of his fingers was enough to send a thousand electrical currents soaring through her body.
“We’re trying to sound bigger and better than Star Events.” Eva grinned. “Global Events. Planet Events. Universe Events.”
“We’re not only an events company.” Paige settled herself on the arm of Eva’s chair, careful not to look at Jake. “We’re more personal. And we need to differentiate ourselves from the competition.”
“We’re going to be a happy company. That makes us different,” Eva said.
“It’s lifestyle as well as events. While you’re busy working we can choose the perfect gift for your wife, or arrange flowers for your mother-in-law.”
“Or we could poison your mother-in-law,” Eva said happily. “Belladonna muffins.”
Frankie ignored her. “It sounds as if we’re offering a concierge service.”
Paige thought about it. “That’s it. That’s what we are. An event concierge service. We don’t just organize your event, we do all the extras. If you’re our client, we take care of all the little things you never have time to do.”
Eva snuggled back against the cushions. “So all we need now is the name and an office.”
“We need clients more than we need an office. We can work from the kitchen table to begin with. We’ll be out and about most of the day anyway. Or on the phone.”
Frankie frowned. “Where do we start? I’m a floral designer. A gardener. I can arrange flowers for your birthday party or your wedding, and I can do a design for your roof garden, but don’t ask me to cold-call clients. I can’t sell myself.”
“But I can.” Paige reached for her bag and pulled out her phone. Jake was right. Organization was what she did best. The excitement was back, and this time so was the confidence. “That’s the point of our company. I can’t do the flowers for your