She left the room, the door closing behind her with a muted click. He narrowed his eyes at that closed door. Fair competition? We'll see, Miss Wearing My Hair Down. But no matter what, Matt intended to see that the best man did indeed win the ARC account.
'Hey, honey-what's takin' so long to get a refill? Let's get on the stick.' Jack Witherspoon's impatient voice cut across the dining room as he raised his empty coffee cup and shot the waitress a glare. He then returned his attention to Jilly and shook his head. 'Cripes, I get better service at the diner. For the airs this place puts on, you'd think they could hire some decent help. At least someone smart enough to keep the coffee coming. How hard is that?'
Jilly bit the inside of her cheeks to hold back the reply that trembled on her lips. Everything in her longed to tell Jack to be fruitful and multiply-but not exactly in those words. As embarrassing and rude as she found his behavior, it certainly wouldn't endear her to him to point out that most people did not slug back a full cup of coffee every twelve seconds and that to keep his coffee cup filled would require the waitress to remain standing next to their table.
And he probably wouldn't appreciate a reminder that this was a restaurant, not a pig trough, although his table manners indicated that he wasn't aware of the distinction.
The waitress approached, bearing an ornate silver coffeepot. As she refilled Jack's cup, she said, 'I'm sorry, sir. We were brewing a fresh pot.'
'Well, leave this one right here and go brew another one. I don't feel like waiting 'til lunchtime to get another cup.'
Color suffused the young woman's face, and she pressed her lips together as she walked away, no doubt to keep from telling Jack to go to hell, which is what Jilly wanted to do-right after she slapped him upside his rude head. Treating restaurant servers like dirt was one of her hot buttons. She'd worked in a pub during college, and her mom still waitressed at the same restaurant where she'd worked for the past twelve years, ever since Jilly's dad had died.
She swallowed her anger and kept her professional mask firmly in place. She wasn't quite sure what she'd expected from Jack Witherspoon, but it seemed that a man in his mid-fifties who'd risen to the level of prominence that he had would have more class. And manners. Yet, she'd successfully dealt with many clients she hadn't particularly liked. The trick was to keep things strictly business and not let her personal feelings and preferences muddy the waters. Like her personal feelings that Jack Witherspoon was an ass and that she wanted to pop him in the eye. Hmmm. That made him the second person in the last six hours she wanted to do that to. The other one being a certain co-worker who was currently her roommate. An image of Matt instantly popped into her mind. Matt undressed, wearing only a towel…
'So tell me about the ideas you've worked up for me, Jilly,' Jack Witherspoon said, leaning back in his chair and stirring a spoonful of sugar into what had to be his eighth cup of coffee.
At last. Blinking away the distracting image of her unwanted roommate, she adjusted her glasses and began, 'The biggest complaint consumers have about the current operating systems on the market is that they're undressed.'
Jack raised a brow. 'Undressed?'
'Er, I meant unstable. Un
Once she'd opened the laptop, she turned it on. 'I've prepared a brief PowerPoint presentation to give you an idea of the concept I've worked up for Lazer.' Her fingers flew across the keyboard, then she turned the screen so he could see the slide-show presentation she'd prepared.
'We'll plan a full media blitz. Go nationwide with radio spots on all the highest Arbitron rated stations in major cities. Full-page black-and-white ads in all the major newspapers and journals, and full-page, four-color ads in the top twenty magazines. Thirty-second television spots to air during prime time on all the major networks.' She tapped the touch pad and the image of the logo and slogan she'd drawn up appeared. 'Lazer. Precision in computing. Accuracy in results. It doesn't get any better.'
Another image of Matt instantly flashed in her brain. Matt, about to drop his pants, a sexy smile on his face, saying in a husky, suggestive voice,
Heat flooded her cheeks and she blinked rapidly to dispel the distracting image. When the slide-show ended, she passed Jack the folder with hands that weren't quite steady. 'I… I've worked up some preliminary cost figures along with a revenue analysis, as well as a time frame for the ad placements for six- twelve- and eighteen-month periods.'
He pulled a pair of reading glasses from his shirt pocket and slid them onto his nose. He fired out a barrage of questions and seemed to approve of her answers, which thankfully, didn't include the word 'undressed.' Based on the questions he asked, it was obvious that, though he might be lacking in the tact and manners department, he was razor-sharp when it came to business.
While he studied her revenue and market share projections, she took the opportunity to lean back in her chair, draw a much needed cleansing breath and cast a surreptitious glance at her watch. Eight thirty-five. Excellent. She still had a good twenty minutes to wrap things up before Matt appeared.
Since Jack was still engrossed, she looked around the tastefully decorated dining room, her gaze panning over the cream walls, the brass sconces, and the enormous marble fireplace where a cheery fire burned, lending an air of warmth and coziness to the room. She noted the framed paintings doffing the wall, all depicting pastoral vineyard scenes. A row of windows overlooking the snow-covered winery. An antique cherry sideboard. A glass-front cabinet filled with an array of colorful wine bottles. A brightly lit Christmas tree in the corner. Guests enjoying their breakfast.
Matt Davidson watching her from the table directly behind Jack.
When their eyes met, he lifted his coffee cup in salute with one hand and gave her a thumbs-up with the other.
Anger arrowed through her and she pressed her lips together. Damn it, how long had he been sitting there? If it was more than fifteen minutes, from his vantage point he would have witnessed her entire PowerPoint presentation, not to mention her verbal blunder. So much for their truce. It certainly hadn't taken him long to slip into spy mode. She gave herself a hard mental slap for thinking, for even half a second, that someone as ambitious as Matt could be trusted.
Well, this was good. She was glad. She'd needed this wake-up call to prove to her pulsating hormones and traitorous body that, yeah, okay, she really did need to get out and have a social life-and Matt was definitely not the guy to contemplate being social with.
Without giving him the satisfaction of shooting him the 'you're scum' glare he so richly deserved, she returned her attention to Jack. He glanced up at her, then slipped off his reading glasses.
'This is very impressive, Jilly. I like your ideas, and the ads you designed are eye-catching and unique. Just the sort of concept I want for Lazer.'
She smiled. 'I'm glad you like them. Naturally I'd be happy to rework anything you feel needs tweaking.'
'Great.' He closed the folder, then consulted his watch. 'Since you and Matt Davidson are both with Maxximum, I guess you know I'm meeting him at nine.'
She somehow resisted the urge to wrinkle her nose. 'Yes.'
'That boss of yours,' Jack said with a chuckle, shaking his head, 'Adam Terrell, is quite the sly fox, sending you both out here this weekend.'
Jilly could easily think of half a dozen things other than sly fox she'd like to call Adam Terrell right now. 'Well, you know Adam,' she said, praying her smile didn't appear as forced as it felt.
He glanced again at his watch. 'Unless there's something else, I'd like to head back up to my room before I meet with Matt. Couple of phone calls I need to make.'
'Of course.' She closed up her laptop. 'I thought you might enjoy a private tour of the winery followed by a wine tasting this afternoon. Is three o'clock convenient for you?'
