Primal Instincts: Volume 2, page 2
I noticed Wayne’s gaze shifted to the back of the room. I wanted to flip him off, but I kept my hands tucked in my lap and my expression passive.
“And?” Garrison urged.
Wayne shrugged. “As I said, I wasn’t given enough time.”
Creed exhaled, and the sound was overly loud in the room.
Nick addressed Wayne. “If you were to choose one of these products to roll out, which would it be?”
Wayne’s chin lifted high. “I want the rowing machine.”
“Why is that?” Hawk asked.
Wayne’s chest puffed up as he glanced from one person to the next. “Because it’s a man’s machine. A woman won’t understand the mechanics.”
There was a snort, but I couldn’t tell who it came from. Maybe Gem. Maybe Cheryl. Hell, maybe it was the female director overseeing the Reflect project. I didn’t know.
“Picking me for that is in your best interest, and I think you all know it.”
Well, the guy had confidence in spades. No one could dispute that.
There was a long pause while everyone waited to see if Wayne had more. When he remained silent, Nick told him to sit down.
“Journey, you’re up next,” Creed said.
The way he said my name made my insides tingle, but I ignored my body’s reaction.
I stood, smoothing out my dress and giving myself a brief pep talk before I walked to the front of the room. I considered asking Cheryl to scrap the single slide that included the list Wayne stole but decided against it. I’d made significant modifications to it, so there was a good chance no one would notice.
I smiled and braced myself to look at each of them. When I did, I was proud of myself for not floundering.
“My name is Journey Zeplyn, and I recently graduated from Princeton with a dual degree in communications and psychology. This is my first corporate job out of college, and I’m thrilled to be here. I thank you for this opportunity to present.” I nodded at Cheryl so she could start the presentation.
For the next twelve minutes, I ran through the facts I had acquired during my conversations with the various project teams and a few things I’d highlighted as wins on our side regarding the products we were looking to roll out. I briefly skimmed over my research of competitor sites, mainly focusing on identifying eye-catching call-outs from a consumer perspective.
“Now bear with me here,” I said as my presentation came to a conclusion. “For the next three minutes, you’ll see four short ads I designed. One for each product. It’s made to look like an advertisement for the consumer, but it’s a short depiction of how I see the products from my perspective.”
I stepped aside as Cheryl tapped a button, and the lights in the room dimmed. A second later, she pressed play. I saw her smile widely because this was the piece she had been most impressed with.
When the three minutes were up, the final image faded to the company logo before Cheryl returned the lights to full brightness, then pressed the button for the next slide. Before it ended, I walked them through the brief task list—highlighting only the unique points for each product.
“That was very impressive,” Nick noted. “And the videos ... you have a knack for social media advertising.” He smiled. “Why so short?”
“I averaged the major platforms. Forty-five seconds seems to be the sweet spot for a successful ad.”
“If you don’t mind,” Nick continued, “I’d like to show those to my advertising team. They might be able to piggyback on some of your work.”
“I don’t mind at all,” I told him, filled with pride that he would be impressed enough to do something like that.
“I saw you incorporated gym footage in the ad for the Reflect,” Hawk stated. “What’s your reason there?”
It wasn’t easy since I could only think about how good he kissed, but I addressed Hawk directly. “When I was taking the tour with the Reflect team, they mentioned they were looking to hire dedicated trainers who would continuously provide real-time content for the users. I wondered how it would fare to utilize the trainers already in place. Those who are currently employed at our gyms across the nation. I thought it might allow the trainers to provide insight into what our current clients are seeking. Plus, it’ll give home users an introduction if they’re considering incorporating gym time into their weekly routine.”
“I think that’s a brilliant idea,” Alyssa Conrad, the Reflect team director, noted.
“I agree,” Hawk said, peering down the table toward Creed. “We get at-home clients interested in local trainers, it could boost our membership numbers.”
Creed nodded, but he never looked away from me. In fact, he hadn’t taken his eyes off me since I walked to the front of the room, not even to watch the short videos. It’d taken tremendous willpower not to fidget under the weight of his stare.
Nick said, “I noticed in your video for the fitness tracker you noted new goals coming as a headline. Correct me if I’m wrong, but that’s not something we’ve incorporated into our product.”
“It’s not,” I confirmed. “As I said, I created them based on my vision. I learned in my research that there are a lot of fitness trackers on the market, each providing various options, most of which have been duplicated by others. I’ve never used one myself, so I had to consider if I utilized it as intended, I’d have a goal in mind—whether it’s losing weight, getting stronger, faster, or whatever. I wondered how I would pace myself, as well as how I would push myself. And how I would know when I’m ready to move to the next level. I was wondering if we could add next-step prompts or something to motivate the user to the next level.”
“That’s a good suggestion,” Nick said, writing something on the notepad in front of him. When he was done, he looked up. “But it’s outside the scope of this rollout.”
“It is, yes.” I didn’t make excuses because my mother always told me that less was often more when responding to constructive criticism.
Nick continued. “If you were to choose one of these products to roll out, which would it be?”
“I was equally impressed by all of them. And I enjoyed talking with each of the product teams,” I answered, looking at each person in turn, with the exception of Creed. “But I’d prefer not to bias you by choosing between them. However, I can assure you, I will give one hundred fifty percent to whichever one you feel I’m best suited for.”
“Thank you, Journey,” Nick said with a smile.
I nodded and made my way to the back of the room. I didn’t mean to, but my gaze strayed to Creed, our eyes meeting for the span of two heartbeats, and it was enough to have my cardiovascular system shifting into overdrive. I looked away first, turning my attention to my co-workers, who were staring. Or maybe glaring was a better way to describe it.
“Delaney, you’re next.”
“You’ve got this,” I whispered as she stood up.
A smile formed on her face. “Thank you.”
For the next hour, I listened as Delaney and Gem ran through their presentations. I was impressed with both, as were the VPs and directors. I could see that their experience in the workplace had given them insight I didn’t have yet. I was happy with the way mine turned out and how I presented it, but there was a lot for me to learn from the two of them. Hopefully, with time, they’d stop tossing accusations, and I could look to them as mentors.
Then again, if it meant I had to give up kissing Hawk, they could go screw themselves.
2
Creed
At five o’clock, after checking with Duke to ensure nothing pressing needed my attention, I headed out of the office and right for Austere.
I knew myself, and if I lingered too long, I’d be on the sixth floor before I could think better of it, and as much as I wanted to see Journey, the ground rules had been set, and I was willing to oblige. Considering she had adjusted to my accelerated timeline—and very well, in fact—I figured it was only fair. If she were smart, which she clearly was, she’d take the reprieve I was offering because I wouldn’t be deterred for long.
“How the fuck did this Wayne guy get hired?” Hawk grumbled as he sipped his bourbon, forearms resting on the table, brow furrowed. “The guy’s a jackass.”
“He’s not very motivated,” Nick noted. “He called in sick on his first week.”
I didn’t give two fucks about Wayne Parson. Hawk was right. He was a jackass. One who was shitting on an opportunity plenty of people would’ve begged for. But he was the least of my worries.
I turned my cigar between my fingers and stared at it, my thoughts drifting to Journey and that damn dress she wore for her presentation. I hadn’t been able to take my eyes off her the entire time, and I think that was her intention.
And the fucking shoes … those were what nearly did me in. Not only did they make her legs look incredible, but the spikes on the straps made my dick hard, thinking about how they’d feel pressed against my ass when I was fucking her on my desk. Had we been alone in that room, I would’ve had Journey strip off that clingy dress and complete the presentation in only those fucking heels to teach her a lesson for taunting me.
“You have suggestions on who does what?” Nick asked me.
I looked his way and considered it for a moment.
“As long as Wayne’s not assigned to my CBD line,” Garrison quickly added.
“I like Journey for the Reflect,” Hawk said.
“You like Journey, period,” Nick muttered.
Hawk’s shit-eating grin was one I’d seen a lot lately.
“That has no bearing on my decision,” he countered.
The fuck it didn’t. I knew Hawk better than he knew himself. Right now, every decision he made revolved around Journey Zeplyn.
“I’d be having dinner with her again if someone”—Hawk glared at me—“didn’t decide she’s off limits until this project bullshit is hashed out.”
Instead of reminding him that she was off limits to him, period, I said, “Her decision.”
“Y’all are not helping,” Nick groaned. “I want to get this to Cheryl tonight so she can discuss it with her team first thing tomorrow.”
And I wanted him to deliver the news so I could make good on my promise to Journey. It was bad enough I’d be leaving town first thing in the morning and not back until early Friday. If I could’ve gotten away with moving the presentation to last Friday, I would have. Patience was not a virtue when you were fighting yourself day in and day out.
The only positive was that Hawk was going with me, so I didn’t have to worry he’d make another play for her before I got a chance. Otherwise, I would’ve rescheduled the trip—that or chained his ass in the wine cellar until I returned.
I should’ve been bothered that Journey had taken priority over my company. From the moment I learned I could have something of my very own, I dedicated my life to Primal Instincts. From Ray’s initial agreement to wager the gym sixteen years ago until now, I’d never let anything or anyone distract me from my goal. Not even Primal, and I considered the club an extension of myself in many ways. Now I could hardly focus long enough to give a shit.
Maybe a few days away would do me some good. Perhaps it’d bring clarity.
Or I’d go stir-crazy and cut the fucking trip short.
“Well, here’s my two cents based on the feedback I got from the directors,” Nick said, turning a napkin around so the three of us could see what he’d doodled on it.
“You’re the marketing genius,” Garrison said as he leaned in and looked at it.
“Journey for the Reflect,” Hawk read. “Gem for the rowing machine. Delaney for the CBD line. And Wayne for the fitness tracker.”
When I looked at Nick for an explanation, he said, “I figure if we have to scrap a launch, that’s the one I’d take off the table. Plus, I like Journey’s thoughts on it, so it might be worth looking at it again to see what improvements we can make to the operating software.”
“You don’t think he’ll come through?” I asked Nick.
“Honestly?” He sighed. “The guy came to work on day two without his security badge, then called in sick on a Friday. I’m not sure he’ll make it another week.”
Nick wasn’t the sort to make rash judgments about anyone. And while those were legitimate concerns, I didn’t think they were the underlying reason for Nick’s distaste for Wayne.
“What aren’t you telling me?” I asked, watching him closely.
Nick grabbed his whiskey and leaned back in his chair. “Cheryl mentioned his attitude toward the others concerns her.”
“How so?”
“He’s a misogynist, for one.”
“Don’t forget narcissist,” Hawk added.
Since Cheryl reported directly to Nick, I had to believe she was following the appropriate channels for dealing with HR issues.
“Journey’s also dealing with a rash of shit from Gem and Delaney,” Hawk told Nick. “They’re giving her a hard time because she’s talking to us.”
Nick nodded. “Unless they’re threatening her, that doesn’t violate policy.”
“No, but it pisses me off,” he said, his lip curled in distaste.
I stared at him for a moment. Clearly, he’d connected with her on a level I hadn’t anticipated. As far as I knew, he’d held to his promise not to contact her last weekend. I’d managed to refrain from shadowing his every move to ensure he didn’t, but I trusted Hawk. I wasn’t sure the same could be said in reverse, considering the fucking shit I pulled on Friday night when I’d punished Hawk the way I had. For seven months, I’d managed to steer clear of any physical contact with him, and one night with Journey had sent me into a tailspin.
“Keep an eye on him this week,” I told Nick.
“What he’s really sayin’,” Garrison chimed in, “is keep an eye on Journey this week.”
I looked at Garrison. “No, that’s what I want you to do.”
“Me?”
I nodded.
His expression was circumspect. “Exactly how close do you want me to get?”
“Close enough to shut down the gossip and to put the fear of God into Wayne fucking Parson.”
Garrison’s grin crept up slowly. “You’re playin’ with fire here, Creed.”
Yeah, maybe. It didn’t change anything.
3
Tuesday…
Journey
I woke to the chime of my cell phone.
I fumbled for it on the nightstand, squinting when the numbers offended my sleepy brain.
4:53 a.m.
What the hell? Who in their right mind texted at 4:53 a.m.?
When facial recognition unlocked the screen, I tapped the text notification and wiped the sleep from my eyes. As soon as I saw Hawk’s name, a balloon filled in my chest, and it began leaking laughing gas into my belly, stirring those butterflies hibernating there into giggly flutters.
It had felt like forever since I’d talked to him, and to be honest, I thought for sure he would’ve messaged me last night. When he hadn’t, doubt had set in, and I’d wondered whether or not Creed had mentioned what happened between us at Austere. Self-preservation had kept me from texting Hawk to see if he was mad at me, but it hadn’t stopped me from downing two glasses of wine in an effort to drown my insecurities.
— Good morning, smokeshow. I’m going to miss you this week.
I pretended not to like the fact he called me smokeshow. No one had ever referred to me like that. Not that I hadn’t received compliments. Those came often enough, but most entailed words like pretty or sweet or smart. Not exactly the words that inspire one to feel sexy. As I said, most people saw me as the brainy girl, so yeah, I kind of like it.
— Why? Where are you going?
— Heading to New York. Creed insisted I go with him.
— So he won’t be lonely?
What I wanted to ask was whether Creed did it to keep me away from Hawk this week. It seemed overly presumptuous of me, but I couldn’t stop thinking about what he’d said Friday night at Austere when we were going back and forth about whether I was willing to give Hawk up. For his sake, I suggest you avoid getting intimate with Hawk. I can’t guarantee his safety if you do. If that didn’t sound like jealousy, I didn’t know what did.
— Something like that. Anyway, I’m about to get on the plane. Chat later this week?
— I certainly hope so. Be safe.
I stared at my phone, unable to stop grinning like a fool. Hawk had a way of making me feel special.
My phone chimed in my hand. I glanced down, expecting another message from Hawk, but my breath lodged in my chest when I saw it was from Creed.
— My flight leaves in ten minutes. I’ll be back on Friday. If you need anything before then, let Garrison know. Otherwise, behave, hellcat.
Behave?
That probably shouldn’t have made me feel all warm and tingly, right?
— And if I don’t?
— If you really want to find out, I’ll address that when I get back.
— How will you know if I behave or not?
Now fully awake, I was waiting for him to respond when my phone rang. It startled me because it vibrated in my hand. I blamed my breathlessness on that.
“Hello?”
“I have eyes and ears everywhere, kitten,” he said, answering my question.
If I closed my eyes, I could almost pretend he was in the room with me, close but just out of reach.
I had no idea what prompted me to say, “If you did, you’d know what I’m doing right now.”
“Texting with Hawk?”
I didn’t expect him to say that, but it shouldn’t have surprised me. They were likely taking the same flight.
“I wasn’t talking about that,” I countered, not wanting to admit he was right.
He cleared his throat. “Are you sure you want to go this route?”
“What route might that be?”
“Teasing me.”
My grin widened. “Maybe.”
“There is no maybe. Only yes or no. Do you want to go this route?”
Feeling bold and ridiculously turned on by his aggressive tone, I answered with a firm “Yes.”
