Page 9 of The Bachelor Auction

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“Are you still mad?”Brenda asks as soon as I’ve entered.

Our office is barely more than a room with two desks, and a tiny corner with a sofa and a glass wall, which we lovingly call our “creative corner.” It’s basically so small there’s no way I could possibly avoid her.

I shoot her a venomous look, but she hasn’t bothered to raise her gaze from her computer screen. Sighing, I toss my handbag onto my desk and squeeze out of my jacket as the computer boots up.

It’s Monday morning and the first time Brenda’s arrived before me at work. Either the guilt has been nagging at her throughout the weekend, or she’s over the whole Tyler Becks incident and is already hatching a new plan to propel us into publicity stardom. Given the fact that I neither see the complimentary box of chocolates that comes with a heartfelt apology nor does she even bother to raise her eyes to look at me, I can only assume it’s the latter.

Inwardly, this worries me because Brenda’s ideas are always something to worry about.

“You ignored my texts,” she says, absentmindedly, like all’s well between us and we’re back to chatting about the newest restaurant that needs to make it onto our bucket list, or a new bargain place where to get your nails done.

“You mean all of one?” I raise my brows at her. “It wasn’t even an apology. You actually had the nerve to blame me that the Uber driver made you wait for twenty minutes.”

“True.” She nods. “And then I asked you how the Tyler Becks conversation went.”

My heart slams harder at hearing his name. The memory of our strange encounter is still fresh in my mind—an open, raw wound. I’m still mortified as hell, maybe even more so than before. I want to dive back under my covers and force myself into another sleeping marathon, which is how I spent the weekend.

I can’t believe how crazy attracted I was to him. That sexy voice followed me even in my dreams.

Brenda raises her head and her gaze fixes on me, her eyes filled with curiosity. “So, howdidit go?”

I suck in my breath, faltering, as my attention returns to her.

Yes, how was it, Harding?

Crushing beyond words. Embarrassing on so many levels, so much so that I wouldn’t even know where to begin.

I shrug and put on my most nonchalant expression. “Okay, I guess.”

“Okay?” Her curiosity is piqued. “What does that mean?”

I shrug again, trying to come up with a lie that might persuade her to drop it. “I wanted to schedule an appointment, but he wasn’t interested. Said something about being too busy and that his assistant had already scheduled several meetings with companies that were more suitable. We said our goodbyes and that was it.”

I’m such a liar, and judging from Brenda’s suspicious stare I’m not even a good one. But while I was fuming mad right after the meeting, I realized Brenda would never understand the fact that I just couldn’t bring myself to waste money we don’t have on a meeting that wouldn’t have turned into a successful venture anyway.

I mean, he’s Tyler Becks with a billion-dollar empire and we’re, well—

Red Eagle Publicity.

Yeah, I know the name sucks, but Brenda has this penchant for eagles. She believes they’re her totem animals or something. And red’s her lucky color. It says so in her Chinese horoscope.

Basically, Magnolia Publicity, my first choice of brand names, stood no chance against her totem animal and star sign.

“So, he wasn’t interested?”

I shake my head a little too vehemently, but it does the trick. “No. There was no interest at all.” I force my gaze to meet hers. “In fact, he offered to return our money.”

There.

It wasn’t even that hard.

Brenda will never know the truth, and I can forget all about Tyler Becks. I breathe out a sigh of relief as her gaze returns to the computer screen.

“Whatever. It doesn’t matter because, get this—” she takes a long breath and lets it out slowly, mentally preparing to say something with as much fanfare as I’ve come to expect from her.

I roll my eyes because, frankly, we haven’t got all day. “Just spill.”

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