Winter Magic: 4 (The Hawks Mountain Series) (4 page)

JONATHAN USHERED Andi Cameron into his study, hung her coat in a closet to one side of the blazing, fieldstone fireplace, then motioned toward the chair fronting his desk. “Please, make yourself comfortable.”

She seated herself on the edge of the chair. After he propped her large, black portfolio against her chair leg, Jonathan rounded the desk and sat. While she occupied herself with getting settled, he studied the woman across from him.

Though she dressed the same and looked the same, the fidgeting Cameron woman seated across from him seemed different. Something about her didn’t fit with the woman he’d met a few days ago. Where had her air of confident sophistication gone?

He continued to study her, trying to nail down what it was that didn’t fit the picture he’d been left with of Ms. Miranda Cameron.

Andi clutched her clipboard to her chest, and then tugged at the material of her skirt in an obviously vain effort to cover more of her shapely leg than the fabric allowed. Her golden hair, captured tightly in a tortoise shell barrette at her nape, pulled at the skin on her temples and skewed the shape of her chocolate brown eyes.

She was quite obviously very anxious. Understandable. He hadn’t yet told her whether or not he’d decided to use her company for the gala, and, added to that, this room could be a bit overwhelming. His office being his personal haven, Jonathan could never fathom why people found this room intimidating, but since discovering the edge it afforded him, he now conducted a great many of his most important business meetings here.

However, as a professional woman representing a business on the verge of landing probably one of the biggest accounts she’d ever seen, he didn’t understand Andi Cameron’s sudden timidity. He didn’t understand it, but, in comparison to the brassy urbanity of his female contemporaries and the person she’d first presented to him, he found it charmingly refreshing.

Her gaze finally came to rest on him. Her nervousness had become more evident in the way she worried her full, red bottom lip.

Suddenly, Jonathan experienced the oddest sensation. He found himself disliking the fact that he seemed to unnerve her. An urge to reassure her came over him. On its heels, a warning signal shivered up his spine. On their first meeting, she’d showed herself to be almost predatory. Perhaps even more interested in landing him and his substantial bank account than the job. This new face of nervous uncertainty might be no more than a guise to achieve her ends.

“May I see your portfolio?” He held out his hand to take the large black folder from her. He’d only given it a cursory review at their first meeting, and he wanted to refresh his memory before going any farther.

As if being roused from a dream, she jumped slightly. When her eyes opened wide, displaying their startling, dark beauty, and his breath caught in his lungs, the intensity of his reaction totally surprising him. He’d always been one to appreciate the beauty of the opposite sex, but never this strongly.

“Here you are,” she said, passing the folder over the desk top.

Jonathan took the oversized folder, then stretched it open in front of him and began scanning through photos of events she’d done for other clients. Everything from kids’ birthday parties to wedding receptions to the housewarming she’d done for Tippy Dawson. The lady may have all the business drive of a timid kitten, but her credentials again proved to him that his aunt’s choice had been a sound one.

Chalk up one for Aunt Sarah.

After a few moments of browsing, he closed the portfolio, and then folded his hands on top of it.

“I like what I see, but it concerns me that you don’t seem to have handled an affair as large as the Christmas Gala, Ms. Cameron.”

Andi took a deep fortifying breath, finding that the fragrance of pine permeating the room did a great deal to ease the strain she felt facing Jonathan Prince. Searching her mind, she recalled the details of the company that Nancy had outlined for her.

“No, we haven’t handled an affair as big as this one yet, but we are geared to. Aside from me, there are several people in my employ, all excellent at their jobs, all specialists in their chosen areas of event planning.” Now, if she could just remember what those areas were. Hoping he wouldn’t ask, she hurried on. “We can handle any size crowd. The basics are the same with each party. What changes are the number of attendees and the budget’s bottom line,” she said, parroting what Miranda’s assistant had told her.

He smiled. “I can assure you that expense is not a problem. My family has always shouldered any cost for the gala so that all the contributions can be put toward the charities we support.”

Andi nodded, knowing Miranda, who always worked better when not fettered by tight purse strings, would be ecstatic about having
carte blanche
with the gala
 . . .
if she got the contract.

“That’s very generous of you.”

He nodded, as if accepting the compliment without a second thought. “I’m sure I don’t need to tell you that I expect this year’s gala to be exceptional. I want the final earnings to far exceed anything we’ve done before. To do that, we’ll need a theme that is different, creative, and enticing to persuade the attendees to open their wallets as wide as they can.”

Cursing her sister’s appendix for picking this time to explode and trying for assertiveness, Andi reminded herself that body language meant everything in a situation such as this. She recrossed her legs, and then leaned forward, aggressively.

His gaze followed her movements. Looking down, she found that the hem of her skirt had inched up well above her knee again, baring a good portion of her nylon-encased thigh. Grasping the hem, she pulled it quickly back to a level of respectability.
Damn Miranda and her trendy clothing.
Looking up, she found him still staring at her legs. Andi cleared her throat and straightened in the chair.

“The right themes can work very well, if suited to the event and capitalized on to their fullest,” she said, hoping it sounded close to intelligent. This whole thing would be so much easier, if he’d just stop staring at her legs.

“Of course.” He finally shifted his gaze to her face and looked at her with interest, as if waiting for her to drop some pearl of wisdom. Was he expecting her to jump in with ideas? She wracked her brain.

Come on, Andi, you had no problem coming up with ideas for the PTA’s Spring Festival last year. Think!

Oh, hells bells, her mind went blank. She couldn’t even make her brain function, and if he didn’t stop staring at her with those mesmerizing eyes of his, she never would. She couldn’t let him see that she’d never arranged anything for the higher echelon of society before. Soccer moms and the local PTA were about as lofty as her expertise got. Instead of offering suggestions, she opted to leave that to Miranda.

“If you’d like, I can consult with my staff and get some ideas to you later in the week.” That should give Miranda time to get out of the hospital and take over this nightmare herself.

Jonathan Prince stood to his full, very impressive, very intimidating six-feet-plus height. He strode around the desk and sat on the edge. The leg of his gray pants brushed her knee, sending little shivers up her thigh. She shifted her legs away.

“I’m afraid I can’t give you that kind of time. To be totally frank, Ms. Cameron, I’m extremely impressed with what I saw in your portfolio. So far, I see nothing that would prevent the contract from being yours, but before we sign and make it official, I’ll need to see some ideas. If you can’t give me what I need, when I need it, then I’m afraid I’ll have to go with someone who can.” He crossed his arms and waited for her reply.

She should have known he would want some theme ideas. Nancy should have known. But this had all done in such a rush
 . . .
Andi’s mind raced for the answer he expected, the answer that Miranda would have had on the tip of her tongue, ready to fire back. “How
 . . .
how soon do you need the ideas?” If she could just come up with something, she could bring this meeting to a close and make her escape from his domineering presence.

“Tomorrow evening, at the very latest. We should start work on the planning no later than Wednesday morning.”

To her everlasting horror, her mind shut down completely.

“I realize that’s a tight schedule, but there’s very little time left and we’ll have to start planning right away.” When she didn’t answer, he deliberately reached for a small stack of business cards on his desk and then fanned through them. “Well, Ms. Cameron? What will it be?”

The logo of one of Miranda’s rival party planners flashed at Andi from the top card. In a very subtle way, he was threatening her. Well, not her so much as Miranda.

Andi had never taken kindly to threats. Unexpected and unreasonable anger flowed through her, bringing with it the surge of self-confidence Andi had been searching for since she’d parked in his driveway. She would beat Mr. Jonathan Prince at his game of intimidation. After all, she could hold her own against a room full of five-year-olds. If she could do that, then she could certainly stand firm against one man.

She stiffened her spine and looked him in the eye without flinching. “Since we’re going to be working together, please call me Andi.”

Jonathan felt an odd rush of relief. For a long moment, he had thought she was going to bolt from the room. The idea had caused a strange panic to rise up in him. Then, as if watching a caterpillar change into a butterfly, he’d seen resolve and determination fill her expression.

“Very well,
Andi
.” He smiled, enjoying the feel of her name leaving his lips, and with much deliberation, dropped the stack of business cards he’d been holding into the wastepaper basket at the side of the desk.

THE CLOCK ON the fireplace mantel in Jonathan’s study chimed twelve times. The sound brought him out of his thoughts of food for the gala, surprised to find the morning had vanished. He glanced at Andi, who was deep into scanning some caterer’s menus he’d given her from previous years.

“Even while he was planning the burning of Rome, I’m sure Nero stopped for lunch.” His aunt’s voice drew Jonathan’s attention from Andi to the doorway.

He smiled his greeting as she walked toward them.

“Well, Jonny, who do we have here?” Aunt Sarah’s question brought Andi out of her work.

“Aunt Sarah, this is Miss Cameron.”

“Andi, please.” Andi extended her hand to the older woman. “I’m pleased to meet you.”

“Ah, yes. The planner for the gala.” She grasped Andi’s fingers in a surprisingly strong grip, then frowned thoughtfully. “Andi? Doesn’t your card say
Miranda
Cameron?”

“Ah
 . . .
yes, it does. My nickname is Andi,” she quickly added. “As a child, my sister could never pronounce my name, so she came up with a substitute that she could handle, and it stuck.” A true explanation, with one slight adjustment.
Andrea
had been the name that her sister couldn’t pronounce.

Aunt Sarah appraised her for a moment, and then smiled. “Andi suites you better than Miranda.” She glanced at her nephew, then sat beside Andi on the large, brown leather couch. “Margaret’s my middle name, and I’d love to be called Meg. Since I seem to be in the minority, I’m known as Sarah, much to my dislike. It sounds so old.”

Andi smiled warmly at the woman and felt an instant connection with her. For the first time since she’d arrived at the Prince house, Andi’s tightly knotted nerves untangled. “I think Sarah is a lovely name, and it doesn’t sound at all old.”

Leaning over, Sarah reached across the coffee table they’d been working on and tugged on Jonathan’s sleeve. “I like this girl, Jonny,” she said in a stage whisper.