Page 48 of The Fix Up

“Jesus Christ.” Ben shook his head, then unwound his fingers from her hair and held out his palm. She placed her hand in his, and he lifted her to her feet so he could cradle her against his body. “That was fucking amazing.”

“Tsk-tsk,” she said, squeezing him tight as she breathed against the front of his shirt. “No cursing in a presentation. The audience will find you crass and unimaginative.”

“Fuck the audience.”

Holly grinned. “You kinda just did.”

* * *

Lucky for Ben,the real audience was every bit as receptive as Holly had been, though perhaps not in quite the same way.

“Great job, Ben,” said the Kleinberger CEO as he made his way out of the boardroom on Friday afternoon. “You really killed it in there.”

“I loved the insight into all the engineering innovations you’ve got going here at Langley,” the CFO added. “I was fascinated by the details of stimulated emissions.”

“Thanks,” Ben said, his brain flashing on an image of Holly writhing at the conference table. “We did a lot of hands-on work with that.”

“Yeah,” Ben’s dad said, clapping him on the shoulder hard enough to knock him sideways if he hadn’t been braced for it, but he was, and his dad’s hand seemed to bounce off his shoulder. “Too bad you forgot to mention the fact that we can put a copper finish on that tank so it matches their other equipment.”

“I didn’t forget, Dad, I just chose not to use it. My presentation, my bullet points.”

“Well I say you did an outstanding job.” Kleinberger’s VP of cost analysis smiled at him. “You’ll have our decision soon.”

The executive team filed out of the room one by one, chattering amongst themselves as they went. The instant the door closed behind the last three-piece suit, Lyle turned to Ben.

“That wasn’t too bad, boy.”

“Thanks,” Ben said. It wasn’t the most enthusiastic praise he’d ever received, though it might have been the best he’d gotten from his dad. How many chess trophies had been brought home, or academic scholarships had he won without his dad uttering a single word of approval?

“Won’t do you much good when it’s time to run the company,”his dad had said so often that Ben stopped bringing home awards from the science fair.

Now, his father was staring at him with something that almost looked like approval. “You want to go grab a drink and celebrate?” Lyle asked.

Ben hesitated. He almost said no, but something about his father’s expression told him this was one of those rare opportunities for father/son bonding that he shouldn’t pass up. “Sure. Just let me shut down my office. Want to meet across the street at Bailey’s in ten minutes?”

“I’ll grab a booth at the back.”

Ben nodded and hustled back to his office, pulling his phone out of his pocket as he went. He set it on his desk and went through the motions of shutting down his computer, grabbing his jacket, waiting impatiently for his phone to power on.

He hadn’t talked to Holly all week, not since she’d walked him to the door after the mother of all speech coaching sessions.

“Thanks for coming by, Ben,” she’d said as she hesitated at the front door of First Impressions, all business once they had their clothes back on. Her hair had even been tucked back up in its neat little bun, and Ben had ached to undo it again. “I hope the speech coaching was helpful.”

“Helpful doesn’t even begin to describe what just happened in there.”

She’d smiled and blushed and looked down at her hands. “I guess I got a little carried away.”

“You can get carried away anytime with me.”

She’d sighed and looked up at him again, her expression troubled. “Look, Ben?—”

“I know, I know—you’re going to tell me you don’t normally do this and that it can’t happen again?”

“Right. Something like that.” She bit her lip. “I’ve just got a lot going on in my life right now. I really need to focus on my career and revenue and—well, business.”

“Business,” Ben repeated. “We’re on the same page there. At the moment, I need to be eating, sleeping, and dreaming of nothing but business.”

A dark light had flashed in Holly’s eyes, but Ben wasn’t sure what to make of it. He was still trying to think of something to say when she’d taken a step back from him.

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