Sweet for You: A BBW Billionaire Romance (3 page)

She jumped when the door opened sooner than she expected and in walked
the
Stephen Blake, followed by Mary, an older woman, and two other men. The small room suddenly felt extremely hot and far too crowded.

Mary smiled reassuringly. “Abby Branson, I’d like you to meet Mr. Stephen Blake.”

Trembling, Abby took Stephen’s outstretched hand. As his firm grip closed around her fingers, liquid heat traveled up her arm and into her belly. Up close and personal, Stephen Blake was every bit as handsome as he was on the magazine cover. He was taller than Abby pictured – over six feet – with broad shoulders, a trim waist, and a thick head of dark hair that most men would kill for.

The older woman jabbed him in the ribs with her elbow. He cleared his throat. “Miss Branson, it’s a pleasure to meet you,” he said, his firm grip on her hand and deep voice sending shivers up Abby’s spine.

“Uh, it’s a pleasure to meet you, too, sir,” Abby responded, silently begging her voice not to crack. “I’m a big fan of your gourmet foods. Well, except for the diet desserts. But I’m sure you already know that.”

The older woman laughed out loud and pushed forward with her hand extended. “Hello, Abby. I’m Martha Rodgers, Stephen’s executive assistant. I’m delighted to meet you.” Abby reluctantly let go of Stephen’s warm, strong hand and took Martha’s cool, delicate fingers.

“This is Tom Parker, the product team lead,” Martha continued, taking control of the introductions, “and this is Lawrence Smythe, corporate counsel for Blake Foods. Mary, do you think you could find a few more chairs so we can all sit down?”

“Of course,” Mary responded, leaving the room and quickly returning with several folding chairs.

“Thank you,” Martha said. “Please cancel the rest of the afternoon taste testing sessions. Pay the participants for their time and let them know we’ll be in touch if we have another opportunity for them.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Mary said, nodding pleasantly as she slipped silently out the door.

Abby looked around the table, waiting for someone to speak. Martha was sitting next to her, Tom Parker was scowling at her from across the table, and Mr. Blake and Mr. Smythe were seated at opposite ends of the table, both with unreadable expressions on their faces.

“Did I do something wrong during the taste testing? Is that why you’re all here?” Abby asked, directing her question to Stephen.

When he was slow to respond, Martha chimed in. “On the contrary, dear. Mr. Blake was so impressed with your useful feedback that he would like to offer you a job. Isn’t that right, Stephen?”

“Yes. Exactly. Martha is completely correct,” Stephen said after clearing this throat for the second time. “As you so accurately noted, our diet desserts line isn’t quite ready for launch. I would like to bring you onto the team as our Quality Assurance Liaison to ensure that the taste and presentation of our new desserts meet the Blake Foods standards for quality.”

“Are you saying that you want to hire me as your corporate taste tester?” Abby asked, not quite clear on what the job offer entailed.

“The position would entail much more than that,” Martha responded. “In addition to taste testing, we would be looking for your input on presentation, packaging, and perhaps even marketing.”

Abby watched as Tom Parker’s eyebrows shot up before moving back down into a deeper scowl.
This guy was clearly not on board with adding a Quality Assurance Liaison to his team. Well, that’s not my problem.

“This sounds like a temporary position. Once the diet desserts reach the market, would my job be done?” Abby asked.

“Not necessarily,” Mr. Smythe said, reaching into his briefcase and pulling out some paperwork. “Blake Foods is prepared to offer you a one year employment contract. Employment beyond that is negotiable.”

“Besides a steady paycheck for a year and all the mediocre diet desserts I can eat, what’s in it for me?” Abby asked. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught a slight wince on Stephen’s face at her mention of
mediocre.

“Your exact salary and additional incentives, such as a company car, an expense account, and a wardrobe allowance can all be negotiated,” Mr. Smythe said.

A company car and clothing allowance?

“What’s the catch?” Abby asked, narrowing her eyes and trying to stare down the serious Mr. Smythe. She blinked first.

“The only ‘catch’, if you must call it that, is that we would require you to sign our standard non-disclosure and non-compete agreements. I’m sure you understand the necessity.”

Before responding, Abby took her time looking at all the faces around the table. Stephen looked cool as a cucumber while Tom Parker was sweating bullets. Mr. Smythe looked mildly bored at having to spend his afternoon negotiating an employee contract, while Martha’s eyes were shining bright with amusement.

For Abby, there really wasn’t much to think about. Leaving her lowly admin job for a gig at Blake Foods, even if it might only last for a year, was a no-brainer. Grinning, she turned to the corporate counsel. “Well, Mr. Smythe, show me the paperwork so we can get the negotiations underway.”

~~~

O
nce she was home, Abby looked at the printout of her compensation package with awe. Although it had taken the rest of the afternoon to hammer out the details with Mr. Smythe, it was totally worth it.

In addition to a base salary that was more than twice what she earned at her admin job, she managed to get all the perks the corporate counsel had mentioned, although most of her benefits wouldn’t kick in until her 90 day probation period was over. But she did get one additional perk that was payable immediately: a $2,000 signing bonus. Mr. Smythe didn’t even hesitate when she threw that last demand into the mix.

Grabbing her cell phone, she called her parents to tell them the good news and sent her sister a text message.

Your big sis is moving up in the world! Got a new job with real potential and a super-hot boss!

Claire replied almost instantly.

Happy for you, but sooo jealous. At work now, but will call when I’m off so you can tell me all about it.

After texting back, “
Ok
,” Abby dialed another number. “Hello, Ms. Carlyle. My name is Abby Branson and I would like to hire you as my personal shopper.”

O
n her first day of employment at Blake Foods, Abby was greeted in the empty lobby by a young, perky brunette with curves to match her own. “Miss Branson? I’m Jennifer Davis, your administrative assistant. Most people call me Jenna.”

“I have an administrative assistant?” a very surprised Abby asked.

“Of course. All the junior executives do,” Jenna responded.

Her position made her a junior executive?
“Oh, right,” Abby responded, hoping she didn’t look as shocked as she felt.

“I was excited when I got the call from Martha that I was being assigned to you. You’re sort of a celebrity in the admin pool.” Jenna lowered her voice to a whisper. “Everyone has been talking about your tasting experience. We heard you put on quite a show for that stuffy old product team.”

Abby smiled. “I suppose I did,” she whispered back.

“We also heard that you made quite an impression on Mr. Blake.”

“Really?” Abby asked.

“Oh yeah,” Jenna said, her voice still hushed. “After your second tasting, he demoted half the product team, calling them a bunch of kiss-asses, pardon my language. He said he was bringing in an expert, someone with spunk who wasn’t afraid to show a little honesty.”

“Mr. Blake said ‘kiss-ass’?”

“Well, not in those exact words,” Jenna clarified. “I think it was more like ‘yes men.’ But we all knew that’s what he meant.”

“Interesting...”

“If you follow me, Miss Branson, I’ll show you to your office before giving you a tour of the Blake Foods building.”

“Please, call me Abby. Formality isn’t really my style, Jenna.”

Abby followed Jenna into the elevator, which stopped on the fifth floor. Her assistant then led her past a conference room, down a long hallway, and into a large corner office with panoramic views of the city.

“My desk is just around the corner in the floor’s admin area, but you can always reach me by phone intercom or email. What do you think?” Jenna asked.

“I think it’s fantastic,” Abby said. In addition to a beautiful wood desk, there was a matching bookcase, a small sitting area, and a huge whiteboard. On one wall was a poster-sized photograph of a tray of Blake Foods’ desserts.

Abby walked over to the poster and ran her fingers lovingly across the image. “Too bad they don’t taste as good as they look,” she mumbled under her breath.

“That’s why you’re here, right?” Jenna said cheerfully.

“That’s right,” Abby responded, silently vowing to help Blake Foods launch the best diet desserts line the world had ever tasted. She could do this!

“I’ve printed out your schedule for the day, which is mostly meetings,” Jenna said, pointing to a sheet of paper on the desk. “After I give you a building tour, you’re scheduled to meet with Tom Parker to get a rundown on where the project is to date. After that, you’ll be meeting with the head chef to have lunch and discuss recipe revisions. The rest of your afternoon is free, which will give you time to get your office set up. And finally, Mr. Blake has requested that you and Martha meet him at Gordon’s Steakhouse for dinner at 6 o’clock sharp.”

“Gordon’s?” Abby was surprised again. Gordon’s was the city’s premier steakhouse and seafood grill. She had never been there – it was far too expensive for her or the few guys she had dated – but she had always wanted to try it.

“I know, right?” Jenna squealed. “I’m so jealous! You’ll have to tell me all about it tomorrow. Are you ready for your tour?”

“Sure,” Abby said. “Lead the way.”

~~~

S
tephen was more than a little irritated with his executive assistant for trying to play matchmaker with Abby Branson.

“It’s a business dinner, Stephen, not a date,” Martha argued. “Besides, I’ll be there, too, just to keep the conversation going.”

“What makes you think I’m not capable of carrying on a business conversation without you?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because the last time you were face to face with that young woman, you seemed completely flustered.”

“I am never
flustered
, Martha. But I
was
preoccupied with Miss Branson’s dessert tasting, which you may have interpreted as something else entirely.”

“Right. Preoccupied makes much more sense,” she said with a hint of sarcasm that he pretended to ignore. “Would it hurt to let your emotions show once in a while? Or admit that you’re a man with needs and desires?”

“My father let his emotions rule him, and all it brought him was heartache. He never forgave himself, you know, and he never loved again.”

“I know, Stephen. But the car accident wasn’t his fault, and it wasn’t yours either.”

“If he hadn’t been running late to pick me up, my mother wouldn’t have been on the road that night. And if I hadn’t been distracting her, she might have seen the truck before it broadsided us...”

Martha put her hand on his shoulder. “You were eight years old. Just because your father buried his pain and guilt in work doesn’t mean that you have to do the same. This diet desserts line is an opportunity to make your mark on the gourmet foods world. You should be excited about it!”

Stephen rubbed his face wearily. “I’m not sure I even know how to be excited...by anything.”

Martha clucked her tongue. “Why don’t you try by letting Abby Branson into your world and making an effort to understand hers? With your business sense and her passion for sweets, the two of you can create something worthy of excitement! I’m sure of it.”

“I’ll think about that. And I suppose a dinner meeting is not the worst idea you’ve ever had,” he said begrudgingly. “I
am
curious to hear Miss Branson’s ideas for improving our desserts. But you should have cleared it with me first.”

From the stern look on Martha’s face, Stephen knew he had crossed a line. “Don’t even try to pull the boss card on me, Stephen Blake. I’ve been managing your work schedule for almost 15 years and you’ve never once chided me for setting up a business dinner.”

Mr. Blake sighed. “I’m sorry, Martha. This diet desserts line is getting to me. I truly hope that Abby Branson’s input can help us get the product development back on track.”

~~~

A
bby didn’t get back to her new office until 4 o’clock. Slumping down in the plush executive chair, she let herself relax for a few minutes as she gazed out the window at the city skyline.

So far, her first day at Blake Foods had been a whirlwind of activity. The meeting with Tom Parker had been three excruciating hours of open hostility and resentment. His cursory overview of product development prompted Abby to ask countless questions, which were answered with as much brevity as possible.

By the end of the meeting, she wasn’t sure if Tom was being purposely evasive or was simply incompetent. But she had taken lots of notes and planned to bring the issue up at dinner with Martha and Mr. Blake. If Abby was going to be an integral part of the diet desserts launch, she needed better access to information.

Her meeting with Chef Laurent was much more insightful. After a delicious lunch of tomato bisque soup, grilled chicken spinach salad, and fresh strawberries and cream, he gave her a tour of the test kitchen and explained how recipe revisions were logged, tracked, and evaluated.

After looking at the long list of dessert ingredients, most of them with unpronounceable names, Abby had a better understanding of why they tasted so terrible. When prompted, the chef had given her a too-technical explanation of the ingredients.

From what Abby had gathered, the recipe development issues were related to making the desserts suitable for dieters, ensuring that they were shelf-stable, and creating a final product that looked delicious. The discussion sparked an idea that she wasn’t quite ready to share with Chef Laurent. But she jotted down some notes so she could put together a rough sketch of her idea to present to Mr. Blake.