Never in all the time he had known her had he seen Nicole afraid of anything in the board room. She was fearless and poised, an asset to have on your team in negotiations. That had not changed, though the meeting dragged out for over two hours. The smell of stale coffee mixed with the fumes from the spray mount he had used on the artwork samples. Rough drafts of previous contracts and proposals littered the floor. To them, she was the picture of calm determination. But he could tell that the long meeting was getting to her by the way her jaw was tight and her hands were splayed across the glass topped table. Nervously, she slid her feet out of her shoes, curling her toes in the tan carpet. Her eyes though were the picture of calmness, clearly focused on the three men in front of her. She dissected and evaluated their every sigh, grunt, or whispered comment of the contract draft. Her own feelings were hidden beneath a veneer of self-confidence.

Brady had long sense lost his jacket and his tie hung loosely from his neck. He had pushed the sleeves up on his shirt to reveal his muscular forearms and the watch his father had given him for his last birthday. His jaw twitched as the three men spoke lowly and marked certain passages, their faces unreadable. He knew that even Nicole was avoiding his glances, her anger that he was sent to help evident when she spotted him setting up the easels. She was desperate enough that she did not make a scene, but that hardly helped his confidence at his new job. He was accepted because there was no one else.

"These don't show your projected growth of impressions," the younger man said with a thick foreign accent. It had become obvious that he was the spokesperson for the group. While they all obviously understood English, he was the only one to speak it.

"I can get that for you," Nicole said through her tight mouth. Briefly, her nostrils flared in annoyance as she stood up and poked her head out the door. The office was bustling now, the regular nine to fivers having finally arrived. She grabbed the first person she saw, whispering furiously to the new intern who happened to be walking by.

Brady smiled a tight-lipped smile at the three men, who eyed him carefully. They seemed to be sizing him up, wondering why he had let Nicole take the lead in this gathering. The truth was that Nicole often took the lead in the past, using her skill and charm to get any contract that came her way. He worked better in the background, memorizing numbers and details that were important as ammunition. They had been a great team.

"It is good to see you again, Mr. Black," the young man said haltingly. "We have not had the pleasure of your company the last few times here."

"It is good to see you as well," Brady said, brushing aside the innuendo. "It's wonderful to be back." Smiling, he nodded to each of the men before getting up. His nervous hands needed something to do. Quickly, he made his way to the coffee pot to make a fresh pot, feeling momentarily like an over worked secretary.

"I apologize for the delay," Nicole said as she placed warm copies of the requested materials on the table. "These are the numbers you asked for."

Brady slid into his seat again, nodding as he read over the numbers himself. He was not an expert on public relations, but he knew that he could wing it if need be. Quickly, he scanned the document for the pertinent vocabulary and stored it in his head. "I think that Titan is offering a tremendous savings and valuable contract here, gentlemen. You are getting advertising, direct marketing, and public relations services from us for the price of just advertising. It will do wonders for your image and brand awareness here in the US."

"The US consumer is fickle," the young man said warily. "What about redesign work and the like?"

Nicole muted a frustrated sigh as she stared at the men. "We have no reason to believe or anticipate the need for redesign," she told them. "In fact, I would say that the campaign we have proposed gives you leverage for the next three years."

Brady could tell that they did not believe what she was saying, their blank expressions growing skeptical. "Actually," Brady said cautiously, throwing a pleading look at Nicole. "I think that the gentlemen have a valid point. The last thing we want is our name and image attached to a stale campaign. While there is no possible way to detect the amount of time or materials used in redesigning or reformatting a campaign of this magnitude, I would suggest that we set an hourly rate for this work. That way there are no surprises should the need arise."

The men looked at each other and nodded slowly, smiles beginning to twitch at the corners of their mouths. "I can appreciate that," the younger man said slowly. "However, we would demand a cap for the overall price schedule."

"Of course," Nicole said, shooting Brady a look of surprise. "I can have that added to the contract as well." Finally, she sank back against the leather of the swiveling chair, her features relaxing for the first time.

Brady bent down to toss the stack of discarded papers, the room finally empty and the stale smell of coffee and half eaten sandwiches removed. He was proud of the way he had saved the deal, but he wondered what Nicole was thinking. She had rushed out of the room so quickly that he did not have time to gauge her reactions, something he used to be good at doing. She had left almost as quickly as the three men, flinging open the door and running toward her office. It was obvious to him that she was in no mood o be thankful or gracious for his quick thinking. He had not expected her to be.

"You should have called me," Marie said as she wheeled in a cart for the audio visual equipment they had used. "I would have cleaned up."

"No need," Brady said as he placed the last copy in the recycling bin. "I did it."

Marie looked at him thoughtfully as she yanked cords and wires out of the projector's case. "It's hard to get used to you working in sales," she told him. "I always think of you being up here behind…I'm sorry." She blushed furiously as she turned her attention to the laptop computer.

"No, it's quite okay," Brady told her softly. "I realize that anyone in my position would make the staff feel uncomfortable."

"It's not that," Marie stated cautiously. "It's just that sometimes we all forget. I actually got you a cup of coffee the other morning. Ms. Walker spotted me and about chewed my head off for it. Things were a lot easier when you were here. You could keep her in line." The loyal secretary blushed to be heard speaking poorly of the management, her eyes dropping back to her work.

"Nicole is a good CEO," Brady said consolingly. "She's a hard worker."

"That she is," Marie said nodding emphatically. "I just wish that she didn't expect her whole staff to work as hard. I'm not complaining." The older woman flipped her mousy brown hair over her shoulder. "Please don't think that I was…"

"It's just between us," Brady said with a smile.

-

Brady grabbed his jacket from the coat rack in the corner of the room and threw it over his shoulder. It had been a long day with the sun already beginning to set and color the sky with amazing reds and oranges along the horizon. He groaned as he glanced at his watch. Annabelle had been home for hours, the excitement of her school play tryout surely having waned by now. He had wanted to hear her squeal of glee over success or comforted her disappointment.

Car keys in hand, he headed toward the parking garage, noting the absence of cars from its dark depths. Everyone else had already called it a day, returning home to families and pets for an uneventful evening of non-work activities. He on the other hand was carrying a briefcase full of proposals that he wanted to proofread before sending them out in the morning.

Stomping up the last step toward level his car was on, he was surprised to hear the muttered conversation of some one else. Actually, he shouldn't have been surprised, as there were others that gunned for promotions and raises like it was an Olympic sport. Contorting his tired face into a smile, he got ready for a friendly good evening with a fellow co-worker. However, his smile fell as he saw her standing there.

Her hair was still twisted up tightly away from her face and her high heeled shoes still sheathed what had to be tired feet. Her stance was one of pure frustration with her hand on her hip and her cell phone to her ear as she paced back and forth. She noticed him and nodded her head in his direction.

He stood there helplessly for a moment, trying to find the strength to decide what to do. Slowly, he approached her with a tentative smile on his face. "Is everything okay?" he asked as she flipped her phone shut.

"My car," she groaned, slamming her hand down on the red hood. "I took it in for service last week because it had a funny sound when I was cranking it. They of course assumed that I didn't know anything as a woman. Now the damn thing won't crank at all."

"And they're gone for the day?" he asked.

"Of course," she said throwing her hands up in the air. "I can't believe this. Henderson and his staff are all out for their monthly bowling game. My mom has her weekly poker game. I can't even get a cab."

Nodding his head, he pointed to his own car just a few spaces down from hers. "Hop in," he told her. "I'll get you home."

She looked between her own useless car and his, obviously debating the consequences. Closing her eyes, she scooped up her purse and bag, rushing to catch up with his quick steps. "Thank you," she muttered as she slid into the front seat.

He had to stifle a laugh as he pulled out onto the road, noting that she was sitting as far against the passenger door as she could, pulling at her short skirt to hide her long legs from sight. She nervously chewed on her bottom lip, looking very young and childlike as she blew a stray strand of hair out of her face. Her nerves even made her flinch as he reached over and turned on the car stereo. "Same place I assume."

She was staring out the window, her eyes scanning the lush green landscape. "I didn't thank you for earlier," she finally said in a low voice. "You saved the day."

His shoulders rose and fell as he steered the car along the winding road toward the lake. "I just didn't want to see you lose that deal because of something that minor." Carefully, he watched her expression change as she settled back against the seat of the car.

"You were good in there," she said. "I forget how good you are at business. It's almost like you're channeling both your father and your grandfather. It's amazing."

"I don't know about that."

"I was pretty harsh when you came looking for a job," she said, her hand going up to play with a necklace around her neck. "I should have given you back your old job, but…'

"I didn't deserve it," he protested. "When I left, you told me that it would ruin my career. I'm just lucky that you didn't turn me into your janitor or something."

She laughed, the first time he had heard that in a long while. "I'm not that bad," she teased. "I just was worried about working with you again. I can't help that."

"I know," Brady said as he pulled into the long drive way. "I appreciate being given a job at all."