Page 2 of Single Dad Christmas

His brows shot upwards, towards his thick, dark hair. “I’m sorry?”

“No,I’msorry,” she said, leaning forward slightly, her red lips pursed in a line of genuine remorse. “This has been bungled, and it is far below the standard our agency endeavors to deliver—and has successfully delivered for you in the past, over multiple campaigns,” she said, hoping that the goodwill from those previous jobs would go some of the way to keeping him on side. “We take full responsibility.”

“Good.” His approval, the note of appreciation in his voice, had her toes curling with something like pleasure. “Speaking of taking responsibility, where is Donovan?”

She glanced down at her papers, hating the question, because she didn’t want to lie to this client. Nor, though, did she relish the idea of throwing her boss under a bus. “Erm, I’m so sorry, but he couldn’t make it.”

“I see.” Noah’s lips compressed into a line that clearly communicated disapproval. “Somewhere more important he had to be?”

She grimaced. “I think he mustn’t be well,” she said because she had no idea why he had pulled out at the last minute. “But I promise you, the agency is determined to fix this.”

Noah reclined in his chair a little, studying Louisa’s face with an academic curiosity that turned her blood to lava. She tightened her fist in her lap and stared right back at him, even when the effort of holding his eye contact was doing strange things to her equilibrium.

“How?” he said, finally, his inflection mildly curious, rather than cross.

She expelled a soft sigh of relief, but she was floundering, because her job was to manage the client—to take them for long lunches, and charm them with her multiple languages and grasp of international politics. Her job wasnotto be across the details of each advertising campaign. Of course, she had a high-level understanding of each of her clients’ professional needs, but the minutiae was left to their advertising managers. Like Donovan. Who wasn’t there. Like Donovan, who’d just asked her to charm and promise and flatter her way out of this situation.

“We’ll start from scratch,” she said, thinking aloud. She wouldn’t make promises she couldn’t keep, or that Donovan would break. “A huge team meeting, today, to come up with a new plan, and Donovan can present it to you tomorrow. We’ll fix this, Mr Fox. I promise.”

“Noah,” he waved a hand through the air, whilst maintaining his disconcerting scrutiny of her face. “Where are you from?”

She compressed her lips, something like anxiety bubbling in her stomach. People in Australia didn’t recognize her proforma. Unlike in Moricosia, where she couldn’t have walked down the street without being trailed by paparazzi, or having well-meaning passersby pull out their cell phones to capture riveting footage of her buying milk. But when she mentioned her home country, sometimes, with some people, something twigged, and the fact she had been dating the King for two years, and had recently left him, filtered into their consciousness.

She didn’t like to be recognized for that one part of her life.

“I—Europe,” she hedged.

His brows drew inwards, so she knew he saw the response for what it was—obfuscation.

“Do you travel much, Louisa?”

She liked the way he said her name. She liked it a dangerous amount. Her mouth was suddenly dry, her mind a little blank. She tapped her fingers to her knee, hoping it would bring mental clarity back to the fore. “I—have travelled, yes.”

“And stayed in hotels?”

She nodded once.

“Luxury hotels?”

She bit into her lower lip. He clearly didn’t know she’d been dating King Ares Christou Diamantis. Nor that she came from one of Moricosia’s oldest families. “From time to time,” she hedged again.

“Have you ever stayed in a Fox hotel?”

She thought back to her trip to Rome, and the spectacular hotel with the view of the Coliseum and the exceptional service. “Yes,” she said.

Curiosity sparked in his gaze. “Where?”

Her tongue darted out and licked her lower lip. “Rome.”

“Recently?”

She shook her head. It had been her one-year anniversary with Ares. She’d wanted to go somewhere, out of the country. Looking back, she’d never been cut out for the role as his Queen. She’d been wanting to escape the pressures of royalty from almost the first.

“But you understand that guest satisfaction is at the forefront of what we promise and deliver. My family’s business model is structured around being the kind of place that justifies the cost of our rooms.”

She nodded. She knew that, from the brief she’d been given when taking on this client, but also from personal experience. Also, just from being a human in the world, who saw that the Fox name was indeed synonymous with luxury, prestige, and pleasure.

Her mind stumbled a little, after giving her the last attribute. Heat flushed her cheeks, and she prayed it wasn’t showing as a visible pink to the man across the boardroom.

---