She was determined to make sure that didn’t happen. She would be wary, on guard, and completely professional. No visceral reactions allowed.
Dora Preston sat outside of Zach’s office. She smiled when she saw Katie. “He’s waiting for you,” Dora said. “Go right in.”
“Thanks.”
Katie straightened her spine, tried her “You’re the best” mantra for good measure, and stepped into the shark’s lair.
Zach rose when he saw her. And smiled. As she had yet to receive her Zach-smile vaccine, she found herself instantly melting.
Stop! No melting, she told herself. No being excited to see him. Nada!
“Katie, what a pleasure.”
He walked around his desk and approached her. Instead of shaking her hand, he squeezed her upper arm and sounded genuinely pleased to see her. Uh-huh. Sure. Cool, she told herself. She was ice.
“I come bearing paperwork,” she said calmly, holding up her stuffed briefcase. In her other hand she held a portable file box.
Zach led her to the desk, then offered coffee, which she accepted. While he walked over to a small tea tray by his credenza and poured her a cup, she unloaded her briefcase and started on the file folder.
“Cream? Sugar?”
“Just black,” she said.
By the time he returned to sit next to her, she had spread out several sample invitations.
“We need to get the order into the printer,” she said. “I like this one.” She pointed to a thick paper invitation edged in black and gold.
Zach laughed. “The last invitations I picked out had toy soldiers on them. I think it was for David’s eleventh birthday party. You go with what you like.”
“I’m happy to pick, but do you want to run the selections by your partners?”
“Not even on a bet.”
She forgot herself for a second and smiled. “Okay. So you’re not party planners.”
She pulled out her master list and noted the invitation number. “Now, before I can do anything, I will need one thing from you. And that’s budget approval.”
The five-page document listed every possible expense, although some items, such as liquor, had to be estimated. Zach took the document and scanned it.
“You’re very thorough,” he said after a minute.
“I try to be. As I noted at the bottom, should there be an unexpected expense of more than three hundred dollars, I’ll send out written notice immediately.”
“Fair enough.” He read a little more. “Goody bags for adults. Isn’t that a kid thing?”
“Not at all. I’ll do a smaller, less expensive bag for the regular guests and a dynamite one for our high rollers.” She shrugged. “I can’t explain it, but there is a serious thrill in getting something for free. I practically shimmy in delight when my favorite makeup lady offers me a sample, even if it’s something I’ll never use. I thought a goody bag would be a fun way to leave our guests with warm fuzzies about the party.”
He continued to study the budget. As he read, she watched him. There was something so sexy about his eyes, she thought. And of course, his smile. She also liked the way he seemed comfortable in his own skin all the time.
She groaned silently. Damn. What happened to being ice? Ignore him. Which was easier said than done, considering how the man turned her on. Her resolve seemed to have all the tensile strength of potato chips.
He tossed the budget down on the desk. “I’ll take it to my partners right away. When do you need to hear back?”
“Within a week. The invitations need to be engraved. Some of the food has to be ordered well in advance, and I won’t even go into the trauma of picking out flowers.”
“Please don’t.” He leaned back in his chair. “I guess this means I need to get my tux into the dry cleaner.”
“Don’t complain to me about that,” she told him. “You know exactly what you’re going to wear, while I have the challenge of finding the perfect dress. I need to fit in, and yet not look like a guest.”
He raised his dark eyebrows. “What about your date?”
She hardly needed the pressure. “It’s a working night for me.”
“No Mr. Right?”
She couldn’t tell if he was making idle chitchat or trying to figure out if she was seeing someone. The possibility of the latter made her thighs tingle.
“Not even a Mr. Adequate. And you? Who will you bring?”
“I haven’t decided. How’s Brenna doing?” he asked.
“She’s hanging in there. Her mood seems to swing between a strong desire to get revenge and feelings of devastation.”
“The loss of a marriage is like a death. It takes time to move through the grieving process.”
His insight surprised her until she reminded herself that this was what the man did for a living. Of course he would be familiar with the process.
“Brenna said you won’t be meeting with her for a few weeks.”
He nodded. “We’ll speak regularly, but there’s no need for a face-to-face. I’ve filed all the papers. We’re going to have to deal with the settlement, and that’s what’s going to take the planning.”
“Do you know Jeff’s lawyer?”
Zach smiled again, but it wasn’t the least bit friendly. “I’ve dealt with him before. Not to worry. I’m a whole lot better.”
“Will you think I’m a complete bitch if I say ‘good’?”
“No. She’s your sister. She’s in pain and you want blood for that.” He studied her. “You can’t have it both ways, Katie. You can’t complain about my tactics, then use them for your own self-interest.”
“Actually, I can, but it’s tacky.” She shuffled through the papers she’d brought, pulling out three more sets of the budget. “So you don’t have to make copies.”
“Very thoughtful.”
She returned to the issue of her sister’s divorce. “While there might have been a snag in the ‘all Marcellis stay married forever’ theory, I’m still not on your side about breaking off Mia and David’s engagement.”
“I’m okay with that. However, I reserve the right to use any means at my disposal to change your mind.”
Hardly news, she thought wryly. “Why me?”
He leaned back in his chair and considered the question. “Two reasons. No, three. First, I have the most access to you. That means plenty of time to work my charm.”
She widened her eyes in surprise. “Is this charm? I hadn’t noticed.”
He grinned. “Second, your family listens to you. If I convince you, you’ll convince them, or at least Mia, and she’s the one who matters.”
“Never going to happen.”
“I’m taking bets.”
“Sure you are. What’s number three?”
He turned his gaze fully on her. Dark blue eyes narrowed slightly, and his expression turned predatory. “You’re the Marcelli who interests me the most.”
Two parts intrigued and one part terrified, she did her best to act unconcerned. “You’re saying spending this much time with Grandpa Lorenzo wouldn’t blow your skirt up?”
“I don’t wear a skirt, but if I did, no.”
“Those are really fabulous reasons. Thanks for sharing.” She began to pack up her briefcase.
“Leaving so soon?”
“I have another meeting.”
“What if I wanted to take a few minutes to work on convincing you?”
“No, thanks.”
He chuckled. “You haven’t heard what I had in mind.”
Oh, but she could imagine. “I don’t need to know.”
“You’re tempted.”
“Not even close.”
She had a feeling they both knew she was lying. She finished with her briefcase and went to work on the file box. When she was done, she turned back to him.