“Is your office door closed?” His own voice dropped, too, though there was no one within four walls of him.
“Yes.”
“I remember how silky your skin is. How sexy your mouth is when you talk. When I’m not with you, I fantasize about you. Basically, I’m hooked on you twenty-four seven.”
“You fantasize about me?” Her whisper had become downright breathless.
“Oh, yeah. In my mind, we’ve been on your desk, on my desk, at my hotel, in the park, on carpets of those pink flowers, you name it. We have an amazing love life for two people who have never seen each other naked.”
She giggled. “You’ve seen me nearly naked.”
His body stiffened with appreciation. “One of my fondest memories. I could write entire sonnets to that moment, I swear. Have I told you how much I like that red gauze top you had on yesterday? That was good for a real dream about you last night, not just your standard daytime fantasy.”
“I was wearing a bra, you bad boy,” she whispered.
“Mmm,” he rumbled. “A push-up. And a fine example of its kind. I and a couple of million male viewers thank you.”
“It didn’t show anything!” she squeaked. “I had the director and the guys in the control booth double-check. Both backlighting and spots.”
“I bet they enjoyed that. No, you only showed enough to run my concentration right off the rails. It was more the total effect. The jeans were great, too. Have I told you what a pretty rear view you have?”
“No, poor thing. With you, it gets no attention.”
“I am pretty consistent,” he admitted. “I hope you know what this conversation is doing to me, even as we speak.”
“If it’s anything like what it’s doing to me, it’s going to be difficult to get out of here without someone suspecting I have a very hot date.”
“You do. How soon can I pick you up?”
“Um, as soon as the swelling goes down?”
“Well, yes, that’s a given. Say, seven-thirty? That gives you seventy-five minutes.”
“We’re going to dinner, right?” she asked. “Just checking.”
“Dinner,” he promised. “And now that negotiations are over, after the champagne, I really, really, want you for dessert.”
It took ten minutes of steady concentration before Mitch could turn off the sensual images blending into one another in his head, and reduce his hard-on to manageable proportions. He had to call Nelson and tell him the good news, and he simply couldn’t do that when Eve filled his mind and affected his body in such an unbusinesslike fashion.
All he wanted to do was think about her and what was to come this evening. And he would-after he called in to report.
Mitch walked back into the bathroom and took his shower, with the water a little cooler than usual. Once he was shaved and dressed, he picked up his cell and hit Autodial.
Nelson Berg answered on the first ring.
“It’s Mitch.”
“Just how long do you plan to spend down there enjoying Southern hospitality?” Nelson barked. “You got some kind of Scarlett O’Hara complex says you’ll think about doing the deal tomorrow, or what? Let me tell you, tomorrow never-”
“The deal’s done, Nelson.”
That stopped him. For all of two seconds.
“When did this happen?”
“Just now. Consider your deadline met. It’s done for all intents and purposes, anyway. Eve Best called me to say she’d reached an agreement in principle with her staff, and then I called you.”
“Did she, now? How about that.”
Mitch’s forehead creased. “You sound surprised. Didn’t you think I could pull it off?”
“Oh, I knew you’d give it everything you had. It was that or the job postings on Craigslist.”
“Your confidence humbles me, Nelson.”
“It keeps you young bucks on your toes. So how soon will they be coming over? I’ve got a lot of logistics to handle once the process starts.”
“We have to iron that out, but I can’t see it going longer than six months. We may not make the November sweeps, but we’ll definitely get May.”
“I want November,” Nelson said immediately. “Get ’em on board by September at the latest.”
“I’ll do my best.”
“Damn right you will. You might have pulled off this one, but anybody can do a handoff. I can replace you.”
Deep in Mitch’s gut, anger began to bubble. “Nelson, anybody ever send you to management training? Because the reward-and-punishment method of motivation is really getting old.”
“I don’t need to punish people who do their jobs properly,” Nelson snapped. “And if you don’t like it, you don’t have to stick around.”
“Fine. I can quit, if you want. Before we get Eve Best’s signature on this contract. Mackenzie Roussos and Chad Everard are both here. I’m sure they’d be happy to step in with theirs.”
Nelson swore so colorfully that Mitch wondered if he’d been in the navy at some point. Back in the dark ages. Before managers learned to lead by example instead of by threatening everyone in sight.
But Nelson also appreciated a man who had a spine. Mitch might not be a shark like Roussos, or a glamour boy like Everard, but he could bring in the results with the best of them.
Nelson ran out of steam eventually and surprised Mitch with a change of subject. “So, how’d you pull it off? Did you take my advice and romance her? That always works with women.”
As if Nelson would know. The guy had been divorced, what, three times?
“I did not. She needed someone to talk to and I stood in as a sounding board.”
“Talk to?” From his tone, you’d think Eve had demanded that Mitch eat raw squid.
“There aren’t a lot of women in this region in her position, Nelson. And it’s not like she can call up Oprah or Ellen DeGeneres for a pep talk. I’ve been around this industry a while and seen a lot of shows in production. She appreciates a high-level view.”
“As long as you’re not exchanging industry secrets,” Nelson warned. “You know my opinions about that.”
“If we’re going to be on the same payroll they won’t be secrets,” he pointed out. “I plan to bring her on board with CWB’s culture, org structure, all that. In time. Not now.”
“Too soon for that,” Nelson agreed. “Get her John Hancock on that contract and she’ll be inundated with all that stuff. Good work, Hayes. When are you coming back?”
“When I get the aforesaid John Hancock,” Mitch replied drily. “And we have a few things to iron out. For instance, she wants assurance that her team will stay together under our management.”
“Why? You’ve seen one producer, you’ve seen them all.”
“It’s not just the producer. It’s the cameraman, the main story coordinator, the makeup artist who happens to be her best friend.”
Nelson made a noise that expressed his opinion of that. “I sent you down there to get Eve Best. I don’t care about her friend the makeup artist. Those people are a dime a dozen.”
“In my opinion, it would be a mistake to upset the status quo,” Mitch warned. “This team has created a winner. Making the change from independent to network is going to be disruptive enough. I’d recommend strongly that we not make any further changes.”
“I’ll think about it,” Nelson conceded grudgingly. “We can always give them short contracts and unload them in a year. I’ll talk it over with the honchos in our teleconference on Monday.”
Mitch acknowledged this was the best he could expect for now. He and Nelson both knew that Eve had them over a barrel. If they didn’t meet her conditions, she could pull out and remain as she was, no harm done. At worst, she could call SBN or CBS and play hardball with them, cutting CWB out of the running altogether.
“So, what else?” Nelson asked.
“Tonight we’re going to-” he stopped.
“What?”
“Review the list of upcoming guest segments,” he lied. “That’s it for now. Talk to you later, Nelson.”