But here Christopher was basically being a moody little twat. Today's complaint was that my clients were showing favoritism. There was no policy against clients showing their appreciation with appropriate gifts like dinner or something. But Christopher hated that.
Haruto Tanashi was particularly appreciative of my work on his account and sent me a case of Lagavulin.
"It sets a bad precedent,” Christopher complained. “It's inappropriate."
I looked up at him as I continued typing. I had to get a status report out by 10:00 a.m., and his blathering was not going to stop me.
"What is?" I asked, playing dumb.
"A client can't send you a case of expensive scotch. You don't even like scotch."
I raised my eyebrows. "Who says I don't?"
His brow furrowed. "You refused to drink it with me."
"That was then. This is the new me." For the good stuff, I could learn to appreciate it. I stopped typing. "Is there anything you really need? I had a long night, and I'm very busy."
His eyebrows raised. "Why the hell was it a long night?"
"Pretty sure that falls into the none-of-your-business category."
He furrowed his brow. "Wow, your attitude leaves a lot to be desired, Winslow."
Cocking my head, I said, "And by attitude, do you mean reminding you that my personal business isn't fodder for office gossip? Perhaps this is a matter I should discuss with HR."
His jaw ticked. I had him there. He cleared his throat as he rocked onto the balls of his feet. "I've got a new client for you."
I shook my head. "No. We've talked about this, Christopher. I'm already overworked. I don't have enough developers on my team. And the ones I do have are taxed. If you want to give me a new client, you'll have to take two away. And of my eight clients, six are already in development and two are in the pre-work phase. Plus, these clients love me and I'm actually excited to be working with them."
One of them was a new charitable foundation by Adeline Lasso, a huge West End actress who had just been cast in the latest sci-fi epic. She was literally the coolest client I had, and I had pitched her hard.
Christopher grinned at me. "Well, I guess I'll have to manage Adeline Lasso myself."
That arsehole. He'd been miffed when he'd been overlooked by the client. "That's such bullshit. She wanted me. When our managing partner, Paul Jacobson, showed her our portfolios and gave her the options, she personally chose me."
"I think you forget that I, as your manager, can dictate your workload. If you tell me that nine clients is too many and I need to remove two in order for you to be effective at your job, then my job is to make that happen for you."
"Or your job is to just go over to Adam and give him the new client," I said through clenched teeth.
Christopher shrugged. “Well, for your information, Adam is also booked.”
"There are several junior account managers who could probably handle a new client,” I said. “Let one of them work under your direction as the senior account manager.”
But no matter what I said, Christopher still wanted what he wanted the way he wanted it. And that meant regardless of what was going on with me, regardless of what was good for the company, I was going to get this new client and he was going to torture me with the extra hours.
"Your new client is Drake Foster. He's a venture capitalist. He's looking for a CRM solution for a new company he's setting up that will be more on the philanthropic side."
"You mean I can't say no?"
He grinned. And looking at him now, with his pale gray eyes and his too greasy, too floppy hair, I wondered what on earth I ever saw in him. Honestly, what was I thinking? Just thinking about the kiss last night. The way, that man had pulled back ever so slightly and smiled against my lips before diving in for the kind of kiss that made my lady parts sit up and sing. In comparison kissing Christopher had been like playing spin the bottle with amateurs at church camp.
"No. You don't have a choice, and I should probably mention that he's here."
My eyes went wide. "What the hell do you mean, he's here?"
"I mean he's in reception. Sorry, I should have mentioned that."
"You're such an arsehole," I muttered.
“You’d better watch that attitude,” he said bitterly.
I raised my eyebrows. “I've been here longer than you, and you can't demote me. At least not without management's input."
"I can for lack of performance. It's only a matter of time."
There was a shadow on the other side of my door, and I knew there was no way I was prepared for this. I didn't have a pitch deck ready.
You can use Tanashi's.
It was my last one. With some quick edits it could be ready.
Game face. I could do that.
But this was bullshit. It was clear Christopher had it out for me. It wouldn't be the worst idea I'd ever had to start tidying up my CV.
The problem was that I didn't want to change companies until I'd made it to senior account manager. At that point, the salary at my next job would be an exponential jump, instead of a lateral move. And it would take me years to build accounts and credibility in a new place.
Christopher smirked at me. "Maybe next time you'll dress more professionally for work."
I glanced down mournfully at my bright yellow V-necked sundress. It was perfectly appropriate for work, but it wasn't something I'd normally wear to meet a new client.
"Are you kidding me? Dare I ask you how long you've known about this meeting?"
He grinned at me. The contempt and malice in his smile was evident at the corners of his lips. He looked like the bloody Joker. "Since last week. Couldn't wait to spring it on you."
Suddenly there was a voice from the doorway as it began to open. "I guess my arrival is causing a bit of a stir."
Heat prickled my skin and the fine hairs on my arms stood at attention.
That voice.
Low and mellow with just enough gravel to make my lady parts sing as I thought about last night’s kiss.
No. No. Absolutely not. There was no way this was happening. Not to me. No.
I closed my eyes, determined to close them so tightly that when I opened them again, the man in front of me would not be who I saw.
Unfortunately, when I opened my eyes, there he was. Still standing there. Looking just as handsome as he had last night when he'd kissed me.
As if that was just a kiss. That was some earth-shattering shit.
What the hell was he doing here? And why hadn't the ground opened up to swallow me? This was such bullshit.
It was only after several moments that I realized that Mr. Tall-Dark-and-I-Look-Like-I-Fuck-How-I-Kiss was talking to Christopher. They had said many words that I had missed.
I shook myself back to the present and tried to pick up the thread of the conversation. Fortunately, it sounded like Christopher was giving him the rundown on how I would give him everything he needed.
Mr. Tall-Dark-and-I-Look-Like-I-Fuck-How-I-Kiss leveled his gaze on me. "I am 100% confident in Miss Winslow's abilities."
Thankfully, this seemed to irritate Christopher, which irritated Tall-Dark-and-I-Look-Like-I-Fuck-How-I-Kiss.
Which we cannot think about right now because we have to be professional. Professional customer face.