Page 12 of Enticed

Fuck, what did I just get myself into? Time with Clara outside of picking her drunk ass up from the bar? Even more contact between us that makes it feel like we’re playing with the most dangerous kind of fire?

I swear—Clara Anderson will be the catalyst to my demise.

But I guess I could think of worse ways to go down…

Chapter 5

Clara

“Thanks, Cindy,” I tell my assistant as she hands me the client file I asked her for just moments ago. It feels good to be sitting tall in my corner office as head of Public Relations finally, far away from the office that robbed me of my dignity months in the past.

It’s still difficult some days to walk past that room and think about what happened in there and how much worse it could have been. Coming back to work after the attack challenged me mentally in a capacity I had never experienced before. Hell, it’s still rattling my brain each day. But my boss insisted on a different office on the other side of the floor where the advertising firm operates, and she was extremely compassionate and apologetic about the circumstances. Having any disgruntled former employee can be a pain, but one that tries to enact a revenge plan where a current employee becomes a victim is quite the nightmare. Mrs. Pearson was insistent that I tell her anything she could do that would make me feel more comfortable back at work, and an office move was high on the list.

Once the dust settled after the attack, we were able to reschedule the presentation with Royal Vodka—to which they completely understood—and I landed the account, securing the promotion I was fighting so hard for. Now, I travel much less and have my own assistant, who is seriously, the best.

“No problem, Clara. I also scheduled a few meetings into your calendar and updated it with the deputy fundraiser you told me about.” Cindy checks off her list on her phone while her glasses perch on her nose. She’s delicate and petite, but the woman means business.

“Excellent. What about the lunch meeting today with Pedigree?” I ask, referencing the file I’m holding.

“Your reservations are set for 1:30 at Cristino’s,” she smiles, pleased with herself. The woman has become an extension of my own mind, and I don’t know what I would do without her.

“You’re amazing, Cindy. Now go take your lunch so when I get back I can give you my notes and we can finish up a few things before this weekend,” I wink at her before she turns on her heels and leaves my office.

I finish up a few details in my computer for another account, gather my purse, and make my way across town for my working lunch at Cristino’s, a family owned and operated Italian restaurant that has been in Emerson Falls for over thirty years. Emerson Falls may still be the small town I grew up in, but in the past five years or so, it’s become a blossoming area for small businesses and families. The business part of our downtown area has been booming—Pearson Advertising making a strong mark as a top contender in the advertising field from a home base far from a thriving metropolis. Who would have known that a little place like Emerson Falls, Oregon, could generate thriving businesses to compete in a global market?

When I moved back to Emerson Falls after college, I met with Jill Pearson, the daughter of Charles Pearson, a well-known advertising mogul I became familiar with while working on my degree. She had a vision of bringing affordable advertising to small towns and cities, and fell in love with a man who was from the area, so they moved to Emerson Falls and set up their office. I interviewed within a week of being home and hit it off with Jill immediately, securing my position in an up and coming firm run by a determined and influential business woman.

And now, five years later, I’m head of Public Relations and kicking ass, securing accounts like Royal Vodka—and hopefully Pedigree—after this meeting. The fact that a company like Pedigree is even shopping around for new representation and considering a firm like Pearson Advertising says a lot about the name we are making for ourselves among the competition.

And I’m pumped that I get to be a part of that.

“Reservations for two under Clara Anderson,” I greet the hostess, arriving at the restaurant ten minutes before our scheduled meeting.

“Yes, perfect,” she says while reaching for two menus and silverware wrapped in black cloth napkins. “Follow me right this way to your table,” she smiles, and I trail her closely, glancing around at the other diners as we walk to a quiet room in the back of the restaurant.

Stepping into Cristino’s is like stepping into an entirely different world—transporting you to an Italian winery where food is everything and wine rules your palette. I search around the room, eyeing the painted grape vines on the walls, the black wrought-iron tables covered in red tablecloths, and the stacks of wine bottles along the shelves behind the hand-carved wooden bar. The smell of garlic and roasted tomatoes makes me breathe in deeply, savoring the aroma before the hostess stops at my table, waiting for me to take my seat.

I peruse the menu for a few minutes, deciding on what to consume today and singing along to the music playing above me before the representative from Pedigree arrives right on time.

“Clara?” She asks as she walks up to the table. I stand to shake her hand.

“Yes. You must be Tracy,” I say and she confirms with a nod. “Please, take a seat. Welcome to Emerson Falls.”

Tracy turns her head around to survey the room and then reaches for her glass of water. “This place is so charming… a real-life modern town surround by forest. I feel like I’m in a fictional town you only read about in romance novels or see in movies.”

I chuckle at her description. “It is like another world—something you might see in a Hallmark movie, right?”

“Exactly! When I left my motel this morning, I walked down Main Street for a while, stopping by all the little shops and then while driving here, I admired the trees and mountains in the distance.”

“Yup, we have it all. And as soon as you start to head out of that area, suddenly you’re in a little city, with tall buildings and offices everywhere. It’s crazy, but it’s home,” I smile just as our waitress comes by to take our order. Once she leaves, I get down to business.

“Alright, so let me show you what Pearson Advertising has envisioned for Pedigree,” I start and watch the look on Tracy’s face transform as I show her our plan. The team that came up with this campaign should be proud, and usually they would do the pitch. But Jill insisted I meet with Tracy, confident that I could secure the deal.

By the time our meals come, Tracy is wrapped around my finger and has pretty much assured me we got the account.

“Perfect,” I say, as Tracy verbally agrees to the contract agreement. “All we need is a signature, and then our team can get to work. I can have my assistant email you the files for an electronic signature, if that’s easier?”

“Sounds great, that way our lawyers can look over them before we sign,” she nods as I reach for my phone.

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