A Reunion of Rivals Page 4

  “It’s Quinn.” She moved toward Molly with her hand extended and a warm smile on her face.

  She’s even more beautiful than she was that summer. How is that even fucking possible?

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you...”

  “Molly. Molly Halloran.” His assistant shook Quinn’s hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, too.”

  “I’m afraid that I’m to blame for this mess. I startled Max when I came in just now,” Quinn said. “Would you have something I can clean it up with? Disinfectant wipes, maybe?”

  “No worries. I’ll take care of it, Ms....Quinn.” Molly shifted her gaze to Max and gave him a what happened? look. “Can I get you some coffee or maybe a doughnut?” Molly set the cake stand on the small table in the corner and then used the wax paper to carefully arrange each doughnut on the glass stand.

  “Is that raspberry jelly–filled?” Quinn pointed to one of the doughnuts.

  “It is.” Max remembered how much she’d loved them.

  Quinn momentarily glanced up from beneath her thick lashes before returning her attention to the assortment. She picked up the raspberry jelly–filled doughnut and took a bite.

  “It’s delicious. Thank you,” she muttered through a mouthful. “That was thoughtful of you.”

  He exhaled quietly and shoved a hand in his pocket. It was his peace offering since she wouldn’t allow him to apologize for how he’d ended things between them.

  Molly quickly cleaned up the mess, promised to reprint the ruined documents and left the room.

  “Have a seat, please.” Max pulled out the closest chair for Quinn, then took his own across from her.

  She put down her partially eaten doughnut and wiped the powdered sugar from her hands and mouth with a napkin. She reached into her bag and pulled out two binders: one thick, one thin.

  “I thought we could start by going through the plan I laid out yesterday. You can tell me what works for you and if there’s anything you object to. Then we can establish an agenda for the next six months.”

  Six months. He gritted his teeth.

  Max had managed to get through more than a decade without running into Quinn even once, despite the friendship that their grandfathers shared. And now he was being forced to work with her for half a year.

  Peachy.

  “Excellent idea,” he said. “Because I’d like to make a few amendments.”

  He didn’t intend to insult her; this was business, not personal. His first obligation was to his family and King’s Finest. If Quinn couldn’t handle that, he needed to know now.

  “Amendments?” Quinn frowned. “Like what?”

  Molly brought Max a fresh cup of coffee and the newly printed copies. She was gone as quickly as she’d entered the room.

  “You were saying?” Quinn’s posture was stiff.

  “You’ve suggested that we have representation at numerous domestic and international distributor conventions.”

  “Yes?”

  “It’s a great idea, in theory,” he said. “In reality, the plan feels too ambitious. It represents quite an investment of resources for a six-month trial period. And it would spread me and Zora too thin. We already have a lot on our plates.”

  “Fair point on the budgetary considerations.” She opened her planner and made a few notes. “I know you and Zora are busy. That’s why I’m here. I didn’t expect either of you to attend the listed events.”

  “Then who would represent...wait... You’d be the lone representative of King’s Finest at all of these events?” He pressed his back against the chair. “This distillery is my family’s legacy. We don’t just sell spirits, Quinn. We sell the storied history of this place...of this family. And, no offense, but yesterday was the first day you’ve ever set foot in this building. I’m not comfortable sending someone who isn’t an Abbott out to represent our family and my grandfather’s legacy.”

  “Grandpa Joe didn’t seem to have a problem with it.” She folded her arms over her ample chest and his heart beat faster in response.

  He dragged his eyes back up to meet hers. “I doubt he realized that you intended to fly all over the world as the sole representative of our family.” He folded his arms, too.

  “I discussed this very idea with him.” Quinn pursed her lips as she put her elbows on the little table—narrowly avoiding squishing her doughnut. “He didn’t express any doubts. After all, I’m an experienced public relations professional, and I’ve represented billion-dollar organizations.”

  “I don’t doubt your abilities, Quinn. But this isn’t an impersonal corporation. Here, everything we do, we take it extremely personally.” He tapped his index finger on the table. “Because the King’s Finest name is on every single bottle we sell. We’re all keenly aware that with each transaction, the crack of every single seal, our family’s name and reputation is on the line.”

  “I can appreciate why this is such a sensitive subject for you.” Quinn seemed to make a pained effort to keep her voice even and her expression calm. “However, you seem to forget that my family’s name will be on those brandy bottles, too. I have just as much invested in the success of this project as you do. Perhaps more. Because if this venture doesn’t deliver results, King’s Finest will scrap it and move on. My grandfather might never get another high-visibility opportunity like this again.”

  “Your job is to protect your grandfather’s interest. I respect that. But I need someone on hand whose first interest is this distillery.”

  Her frown deepened. “You don’t believe I’m capable of being equally invested in both our interests?”

  “I wouldn’t know, Quinn.” He shrugged. “We knew each other for one summer thirteen years ago.”

  “And whose fault is that?” she snapped, then shook her head and inhaled deeply. “No, we’re not doing this. We agreed not to revisit the past.”

  “We didn’t agree, Quinn. You insisted on it.” He pointed out, leaning forward with his arms on the table. “But we need to talk about what happened back then.”

  “Why? It has no bearing on this project.”

  “Doesn’t it?” He searched her face. “We’re less than an hour in and it’s already become an issue. Yet, you won’t allow me to apologize for my behavior back then.”

  “Because it isn’t—”

  “I remember every single word you said yesterday, Quinn, believe me.” He held up one hand. “I strongly disagree.”

  “Is discussing our past a prerequisite for the deal?” she asked.

  “Of course not.”

  “Then I respectfully decline.” She looked away, her voice faint. “Sorry I snapped at you—it was a gut reaction, and I apologize.” Quinn shifted her gaze back to his. “It’s out of my system now. Really.”

  Was he supposed to believe that all of the pent-up anger she’d apparently been harboring had evaporated in an instant? Did she honestly believe that herself?

  “That wasn’t fair of me.” Quinn stood, leaning against the wall behind her. “But you’re not being fair, either.”

  He cocked a brow. “How so?”

  “You’re arbitrarily rejecting the key component of my plan. And before you claim that you aren’t—” she raised a hand to halt his objections “—we both know that you were the only one in that room yesterday who didn’t want me working on this project.”

  She huffed, taking her seat again. “I realize it must be...disappointing to have an outsider work on your pet project. But Max, I’m really good at what I do. I’m not asking you to take my word for it. I’m just asking for a fair shot to prove I can deliver everything I promised.”

  “I know you probably think I’m being an ass just for the hell of it.” Something in his chest tightened. “I’m not, Quinn. My fiduciary responsibilities to King’s Finest come before any personal relationship—”

  “
You think I’m asking you to do me a favor because we spent one summer together over a decade ago?” She laughed bitterly.

  “Aren’t you?” He didn’t see what was so funny.

  “You expect favors of friends,” she said. “We aren’t...that. And if you’d consider the plan objectively, you’d see the benefits for King’s Finest.” She tipped her chin defiantly, her eyes meeting his. “I’m not asking for a personal favor here. I’m asking you to do what’s in the best interest of King’s Finest, despite whatever personal feelings you might have about me.”

  He hated that she believed he harbored ill feelings toward her. Nothing could be further from the truth. True, he hadn’t been eager to work with her. But that was because he hadn’t wanted a daily reminder of his blunders where Quinn was concerned, not because he had ill will toward her.

  He’d be happy to tell her that if she wasn’t so insistent on not discussing their past.

  Besides, he would’ve objected to allowing anyone outside of their family represent the company’s interests. Especially someone he hadn’t worked with before.

  And if there was any resistance to Quinn specifically, it wasn’t because he resented her. It was because he wouldn’t blame her for resenting him, and he couldn’t allow his past blunder to jeopardize King’s Finest. Giving Quinn the power to impact the distillery’s reputation left him feeling more vulnerable than he was comfortable with.

  Max picked up the document and reviewed all the trade shows that Quinn had suggested the company attend. He took his pen and circled five of the domestic listings. “I’m already attending these.” He circled three international events. “Zora is attending these.” Max put a question mark by two others. “I’ll consider these, based on the results of the first three conferences.” Finally, he struck a line through the remaining events. “These are off the table for now.” He put his pen down and sat back in the chair. “How’s that for compromise?”

  “Sounds fair.” She took the list and read it over. “But where does that leave me? Your father appointed me to take the lead on the project. How can I do that if I’m not attending any of these?”

  Max groaned quietly, already regretting what he was about to suggest. “You can accompany me to the first event.”

  “So... I get to do what? Play Vanna White? Maybe hold up a bottle of brandy while wearing a sparkly dress?” Quinn folded her arms, her leg bouncing.

  Was it crazy that he could see that in his head?

  “No, of course not.” He cleared his throat. “You’d be there to observe and learn.”

  “Max, I’m not your summer intern. I’m a public relations expert,” Quinn reminded him. “I don’t claim to know everything, but please don’t treat me like some clueless novice.”

  He sighed. “I need to ensure that these trips will provide an acceptable return on investment and that you can handle representing the distillery.”

  “Then give me a fair shot at demonstrating that.” She leaned forward. “You’re making your decision based on the first three domestic conferences. So I should attend all three of them.”

  Quinn stared at him, as if daring him to reject her reasonable suggestion.

  He nodded begrudgingly, extending one hand across the table. “Deal.”

  Max tried to ignore the electricity that tickled his palm when Quinn placed her much smaller hand in his and shook it. The first time he’d held her hand that summer flashed through his brain.

  Quinn yanked her hand from his and stood abruptly. “Thank you for giving the plan an honest chance. And for the doughnut. I won’t take up any more of your time this morning. I’ll get started on some ideas for marketing collateral. I’ll need samples of your past marketing campaigns to ensure the look and message are consistent.”

  “My team will make sure it is.” He stood, too. “Molly will get you anything you need. The first event is in a few weeks. Do you think we can turn everything around by then?”

  “Absolutely.” Quinn didn’t hesitate for a moment. He admired her confidence. She glanced at the small antique watch on her wrist. “I’m meeting with Zora later today, and having lunch with Savannah. They’ll help bring me up to speed. And I learned quite a bit on the distillery tour we took while you decided our fate yesterday.” She flashed a teasing smile.

  “I’ll need to review whatever you come up with, and we can bring more of the marketing team in on this to ensure everything is done right and on time,” he said as she gathered her things.

  “Of course. I’m your partner in this project, Max—not your enemy or rival,” she assured him.

  “My dad brought you in to head up a project I’ve been working on for nearly three years, Quinn. Maybe it doesn’t feel like a competition to you, but it sure as hell feels that way to me,” he said gruffly, then quickly changed the topic. “Molly will book your travel, so be sure to give her the necessary info.”

  “I will. Thank you.” Quinn lifted her bag onto her shoulder and raked her fingers through her hair, tugging it over one shoulder.

  Max froze for a moment, his eyes drawn to the elegant column of her neck. He’d once trailed kisses down the delicate skin there. Traced a path there with his tongue. He swallowed hard. His pulse quickened, and his throat was suddenly dry.

  “I’ll have something for you to review by Friday,” Quinn said, snapping him out of his brief daze.

  “Great. Let’s meet first thing Friday morning.” His parents’ fortieth anniversary party was on Saturday. Savannah was in charge of the arrangements. Still, he expected to get roped into last-minute preparations. “Oh, and Molly will show you the temporary workspace that’s been set up for you.”

  Quinn thanked him, then left to meet with Molly.

  Max returned to his desk to work on the football sponsorship deal still in negotiation. But no matter how much he tried to erase all thoughts of Quinn, the vision of her in that fitted skirt and top just wouldn’t leave his brain.

  Quinn had obviously written off their past as if it had never happened. Why couldn’t he do the same?

  Five

  Quinn gave Molly the information she needed to make her travel arrangements, then settled into her temporary workspace. She appreciated having her own dedicated space to work. Unfortunately, it provided a direct line of sight to Max’s office.

  She groaned quietly, then made her way toward the executive floor bathrooms. Standing in front of the mirror, she pressed her hands on the cool granite counter and sucked in a deep breath, her eyes drifting closed momentarily.

  Quinn should be proud of herself. She’d shown no visible reaction when her hand had touched Max’s—despite the bubbling brew of emotions that had come flooding back to her. She’d forgotten how much larger his hands were than hers. And she’d been drawn in by his enticing masculine scent.

  After all this time, just being near Max still made her belly flutter and her temperature rise. Had he noticed the beading of her nipples or how her breath caught? The way her hand trembled in his?

  How could something as innocent as a handshake evoke such vivid images and visceral sensations?

  Quinn couldn’t help thinking of the little touches and stolen kisses they had sneaked in whenever they could on the farm.

  The secrecy had made the relationship exciting. It was something for just the two of them. And yet, she’d been bursting to tell someone how giddy and wonderful she felt. Like she was floating in a bubble of contentment. She’d fallen for Max. Hard. And she hadn’t been able to imagine going back to a life without him.

  Quinn opened her eyes slowly and sifted her fingers through her hair. What she’d felt for Max had been a stupid teenage fantasy. She’d believed him when he professed to love her. When he said he couldn’t imagine his life without her, either.

  Despite how things had turned out, she couldn’t regret being with Max. She regretted her naivete in assigning t
hat chapter in their lives more meaning than it held for him.

  Quinn had been the one to pursue Max. She’d barreled right through Max’s initial warning that he wasn’t looking for a relationship, determined to change his mind. By the end of the summer, it’d seemed as if she’d succeeded.

  Until she’d received the call that made it clear she hadn’t. She’d stood there stunned long after Max had ended the call. Gutted by a deep, soul-racking pain that had ripped her to shreds.

  Eventually, she’d moved on, putting that summer behind her. So why couldn’t she look into those dark, brooding eyes without a shiver running down her spine? And why did the timbre of his deep voice still do things to her?

  Why didn’t matter. She just needed to hold it together for the few months it would take to get this project off the ground. Then they would go their separate ways, and she could put Max Abbott right back where he belonged. In her rearview mirror.

  * * *

  Max sent his last email at the end of what felt like an unbearably long week.

  Thankfully, his second meeting with Quinn earlier that morning had gone well. He’d kept their contact during the week minimal and focused on his other projects, allowing Zora and Savannah to bring her up to speed.

  The football sponsorship deal was grinding forward, even if it was happening at a snail’s pace. And his week had been filled with a series of conference calls. At least he’d gotten a chance to spend some time with his two-year-old nephew, Davis, whom he adored.

  Spending time with the precocious little guy was the highlight of any day.

  He and Davis had been eating lunch and watching Bubble Guppies in the conference room when Savannah had joined them with Quinn in tow.

  Quinn had been just as taken with his nephew as he was. Which only made her even more endearing. It’d barely been a week and it seemed that his entire family was enamored with Quinn Bazemore.

  Despite being busy with work, he was still preoccupied with thoughts of Quinn.