He looks at me with a smirk. “We don’t want to be uptight, Mrs. Monroe.” He takes out his cell phone. “I’ll call Crystalis. Her album is number one on the pop charts. I’ll tell her to perform at the gala after the Philharmonic.”
Crystalis is the current “Princess of Pop.” Her current single is being deemed the “song of the summer,” and since last year no one has been able to listen to the radio for more than twenty minutes without hearing one of her songs. Of course he would have one of the biggest talents in the world in his personal Rolodex.
Heather nearly leaps across the table. “Crystalis is performing in the park!”
Gretchen puts her hand on Heather’s forearm and gently guides her to sit back in her chair. Turning to Asher, Gretchen explains, “Her publicist agreed to the telecast. They would never let her do a benefactors’ gala with limited exposure.”
Asher finishes typing into this phone, which I can only assume is a text to one of the most famous women in America right now. He puts down the phone and sits back in his chair, looking directly at Gretchen and Heather, unaffected by their concerns. “She knows this is for the children. She will perform wherever she’s needed. She doesn’t need the coverage.”
Damn. Case closed.
Heather and Gretchen know there’s no use in arguing. Instead, Heather’s grimace sends negative vibes to my side of the table, and I try to shoo them away. It’s not my fault Asher gave me her performer. I wanted someone else.
Asher turns back to me and points to the document in his hands. “I liked your idea about giving seats to the kids. Give them more. You only allotted two hundred. Double that.”
Despite my surprise, I affirm vigorously. There are plenty of seats in the venue, and I know they haven’t all been sold out.
“You will also need to block time for a special performance. I’m working with a group of children who will be playing for the grand finale.” He pulls out the incomplete rundown sheet. “Give them four minutes.”
I look for Erik or someone else to interject, but they do not. “Um, that may be difficult. The event is only two hours. With commercial breaks, that leaves us with eighty minutes of airtime. Between the Philharmonic, Crystalis, the two other acts Gretchen booked, and the speeches that have to be made, you have no time left.”
You could hear a pin drop in the room. There are dozens of other people here, yet everyone is completely focused on the man to my left.
Including myself. Especially since there are dozens of other people here, his eyes are completely focused on mine.
He takes a beat, clearly thinking over the matter. My heart skips when he speaks again. Not because he’s intimidating me. It’s because his tone is sincere. “I want the kids to have four minutes. It’s important. Take a look at the rundown and see if you can move the timing around.” I let out a breath and look down at my notepad. I thought it was the end of discussion, but he speaks again and completely catches me off guard. “If anyone can make this happen, it’s you.”
If we weren’t in a room full of people, I would probably ask him what kind of game he’s playing, but I can’t. Not only because we’re in a room full or people, but also because I, for the first time, don’t think he’s playing a game.
Is it possible the bastard can be sincere about one thing in his life?
When the meeting ends, I grab my belongings and rush to my office. Between Asher and Heather, I need to get far away. There’s no doubt in my mind Heather is stomping her feet in front of Erik right now. I, on the other hand, am ecstatic. I have the number one performer in the country at my event. I’ll have to get a list of requirements from Gretchen and work with Harvey on her introduction.
I close the door behind me and start working on my notes from the meeting. I have calls to make and an itinerary to change. Oh, and the New York Philharmonic to book! Knowing I have the Asher name behind my back, I have no doubt they will make themselves available to perform.
I take a seat in my sleek leather chair and start typing away. I don’t hear the door open or hear him come in. I actually don’t know why I look up but there he is, leaning against my wall with his arms folded, staring at me.
“You don’t like my flowers?”
He has removed his tie and jacket since the meeting, leaving him in black slacks and a dress shirt, his sleeves rolled up. He looks relaxed, yet his eyes gleam, determined.
My body pulls a Trish and my leg starts bouncing under the glass table. Tucking a stray hair that has fallen out of my twist behind my ear, I try to appear as professional as possible. I offer a polite smile and fold my hands on the desk in front of me. “While they are exquisite, I’m afraid I cannot accept them.”
Keeping his eyes trained on me, he asks, “And why can’t you accept them?”
Keep your cool, Kat.
“They are rather inappropriate, Mr. Asher.”
“Why ever so formal, Mrs. Monroe? Pray tell, why are they inappropriate?” His lips turn up in an indecent grin.
“Why do you insist on calling me by my married name?”
“Why do you answer a question with a question?” His voice is amused yet polite. He has a way of drawing me in with his charm, but I have to stay on my toes. So far I’m three for three with failed attempts at talking to this man. One of which I can’t blame him at all for. I need to maintain proper decorum.
“Mr. Asher…”
Unfolding his arms, Asher takes a step off the wall, closer to my desk. “Alex, just call me Alex.”
Ahh, just call me Alex. Those famous last words from the limo. Irritation sends blood pulsing through my veins. I keep my voice even and cross my shaking leg under my steady one. “Mr. Asher. With all due respect, I’m a married woman and cannot accept flowers from another man. Especially when he’s the one signing my checks.”
His face turns serious as his eyes squint, appraising me. “Do you always uphold such high moral ground?”
With his palms placed on my desk, Asher leans forward, driving that divine scent into my personal space. Our eyes lock. I stare at them like someone mesmerized by a pinwheel. Those flecks of gold and brown are a kaleidoscope for the devil.
He inches his body toward me until he’s so close I can feel his breath on my skin. I want to turn around, push my chair away from the desk. But, like always with this man, I freeze.
“Relax.” A slow, sexy smile creeps across his face before he pulls away and collapses into the chair in front of my desk.
What the…?
Well, it looks like we’ll be going four for four with awkward encounters.
Asher sits back… no, lounges back in the seat with his arms spread open, resting on each arm of the chair. He fills it far more than Trish. In fact, he actually makes the chair look small.
Oddly enough, his order to relax actually does calm my nerves a bit. It was in the tone. It was… earnest?
I stare at him, dumbfounded.
“You intrigue me.” He crosses his right leg over his knee. “You are the only person in this damn place who tells it like it is. I like you. I want to get to know you intimately.”
I must look like a deer in headlights. He leans back his head and laughs. A real laugh. Like a deep in the belly guttural laugh. It’s deep and smooth.
“No, no, not like that.” He holds up his hand while the other sits on his chest.
If not like that, then what?
He pauses as he tries to assess how to proceed. “Gray. May I call you Gray?”
I shake my head. “No.” We’re not doing nicknames.
He mouths the word no as a question, his lips forming a perfect O.
He leans over, placing his elbows on his knees. His legs spread wide, hitting the sides of the chair. “That’s fine. I like your name. Kathryn.” My name slides off his tongue like a dare. “It’s beautiful. It means pure.”