“Of course.” She glanced at Jason, nerves gnawing. She needed him gone. “Jason, we’ll have to talk later. Tonight, after work.”
He frowned. “Creditors?”
“It’s not your problem,” she said, dodging his question.
His chest expanded in a manner she’d come to recognize as territorial. “You’re the mother of my child. If something pertains to you, it’s my problem too.”
She angled toward the accountant. “I’ll meet you in your office in five minutes.”
Lauren closed the door and leaned back against it, facing Jason. The genuine concern in his eyes caught her off guard. She was so on the defensive these days, she’d all but forgotten what a champion he could be. In their year as friends, more than once she’d seen him go to the mat for someone else—a guy fired unjustly, a woman with a stalker boyfriend, even taking on the account of a company pro bono when he’d learned the owner’s kid had inordinately high medical bills.
Jason Reagert was pushy, but a goodhearted kind of pushy. It wasn’t surprising he’d found his way to military service for so many years.
She could cut him some slack while still keeping her boundaries in place. “It will be public knowledge soon enough when charges are filed, so you might as well know. My accountant, the one before this new lady, embezzled half a million dollars from my company.”
His eyebrows shot up toward his dark hairline. “When did this happen?”
“While I was working from home.” She pushed away from the door and sagged to sit on the sofa, suddenly weary all over again. If she couldn’t tell the guy who’d knocked her up, who could she tell? “I had some sus-picions about Dave just before I got sick and planned on firing him. Then I spent a week in the hospital for dehydration. I was relieved when he turned in his resignation. I gave him two weeks’ paid vacation and had him escorted out of the office. Three days later I hired a new accountant, the one I should have hired in the first place, but I was trying to save money.” She shrugged. “I guess it’s true that you get what you pay for.”
He sat beside her, not touching, not crowding her for once since he’d shown up on her roof. “I’m so damn sorry.”
“Me, too.”
“No wonder you were upset this morning.” He clasped his hands loosely between his knees, his Rolex glinting in the light shining through the open blinds. “You don’t need this kind of worry, especially when you’re pregnant. Let me help.”
So much for not crowding her. “Whoa, back up. I may be in trouble, but I’ll handle it.”
“There’s nothing wrong with accepting help.” He stretched his arm along the sofa back, wrapping her in his scent if not his arms. “In fact, that’s why I’m here. I need your help.”
“With what?” she asked warily, wondering if she was talking with the altruistic Jason, who went to the mat for people.
Or the shark of an ad man who won accounts through his unerring ability to make people believe anything he said.
“I’m new at Maddox Communications and times are tight. No job is secure.” His chocolate-brown eyes seemed sincere, intense.
“I can understand that.”
“I’m not sure how much you know about MC….”
“It’s a family-owned business.” She hadn’t worked with Maddox before, but the grapevine said they’d hooked some hefty clients. “Run by two brothers, right?”
“Right, Brock Maddox is the CEO and Flynn is the vice president. The one thing standing in the way of the company’s domination out West is Golden Gate Promotions.”
“That’s a family-owned advertising business, too, isn’t it?” She relaxed into the sofa, more comfortable in their familiar ground of talking shop. “Athos Koteas still runs the show. I haven’t worked with him, but I’ve heard he’s quite a force to be reckoned with. Absolutely ruthless.”
“But successful.” His arm on the back of the sofa radiated a warmth that made the roots of her hair tingle. “He’s a Greek immigrant who made quite a splash, which brought in many European connections to give his company a leg up in these tough last few years. Now he’s trying to encroach on Maddox’s clients.” His face went tight with irritation. “He’s put some rumors out there to make Maddox Communications seem untrustworthy and now they’re losing business. It’s causing Brock even more headaches.”
“Are you regretting the move to California?”
“Not at all. Things are going better at work. I’ve brought in some new clients, one big fish in particular. But that client is extremely conservative. You may have heard of him—Walter Prentice.”
Holy crap. “Congratulations, Jason. That’s amazing. Landing Prentice isn’t just reeling in a big fish. The Prentice account is a freaking whale.”
“A whale with the motto Family Is Everything. Prentice fired his last ad guy for going to a nude beach.” Shaking his head, Jason pulled his arm back. “He disowned his only granddaughter for not marrying the father of her baby.”
Wait, he couldn’t really be suggesting… “You can’t expect me to believe they’ll fire you because you have a pregnant ex-girlfriend.” Okay, so she’d never been his girlfriend. But still. She flopped back on the sofa. “Give me a break.”
He held up both hands. “I’m serious as a heart attack. The guy’s offering up a seven-figure ad campaign in tough economic times. He gets to call the shots and choose whoever he wants.”
She eyed her bag with the ring inside—a ring that hadn’t been romantic at all. It hadn’t even been offered out of old-fashioned chivalry. He wanted to keep his job.
A cold core grew heavy in the middle of her chest. “You’re that ambitious.”
“Aren’t you?” He leaned closer, eyes intent. “You and I are like-minded. We both want to prove to our families we can make it without their help. So let’s work together for the good of our kid.”
“Leave my parents out of this!” she snapped before she could think, but her heart hurt when it totally shouldn’t have. She knew better than to expect anything from Jason. There had never been talk of feelings between them.
In fact, she preferred her life be less emotional. Less like her mother.
“Fine,” he conceded, “it’s not about our parents. We’ll make this about securing our baby’s future by securing our own. I need you to agree to a temporary engagement, just until I’ve finished with the Prentice account. I’ll give you the money you need to tide over your business until you regain your footing.”
He was starting to make sense and that scared her. She shoved to her feet, pacing, restless. “I don’t need your money. I just need time.”
“You can call it a loan if it makes you feel better. A half million, right?”
She toyed with the strap on her purse, all too aware of the ring inside. His offer of money made it all sound so awful. “Do you know what would really make me feel better?”
“Name it.” He walked up behind her, quietly, looming without touching. “It’s yours.”
She spun to face him. “If you took your almighty money and—”
“Okay, okay, I get the picture. You’re not interested in saving your company.”
She jammed her arm elbow-deep in her purse and fished out the ring. “I’m not interested in handouts.”
He clasped his hands behind his back. “I’m offering you a trade.”
She thrust the ring toward him. “How can you be