Sofia drew a deep breath. “I guess the best way to tackle this is to decide who is ultimately in charge of which department in order to avoid overlap in duties.”
“Actually, Jacob and I have already discussed that part. I was under the impression that you were bringing me some of your client files to this meeting.”
Sofia’s head snapped up. “Excuse me?”
Hit with the full force of her beautiful brown eyes, Ram sucked in a long breath. It was already bad enough that he had to sit there and pretend that her Marc Jacobs perfume wasn’t working a number on his senses, but to pretend like those eyes, those cheekbones and that beautiful, full mouth wasn’t causing his pants to fit a little tighter in the inseam would require better acting chops than he possessed. He coughed and then pulled his gaze away from her. “I came here to help lighten your load. Jacob said—”
“I’m not about to turn over my clients to you. Are you crazy?”
Ram blinked and stared back at Sofia silently for a moment.
“Do you know how long it took me to develop my list? Do you have any idea how much work it involved to develop a rapport with my clients and studio heads?”
“I think I have some idea, yes.” Ram shook his head. “You know it’s not my first time to the rodeo here,” he said with a laugh, trying to lighten the mood. It didn’t work.
Sofia leaned back in her chair and calmly folded her arms beneath her very lovely breasts and said simply, “No.”
Ram forced his gaze up from her creamy brown cleavage peeking through her white top and met her steady gaze again. “No?”
“Good. We understand each other.” She slapped her folder shut and jumped up from her chair. “Now that we got all that settled, I have some work to do.” She flashed him a frosty smile and attempted to leave.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Ram instantly popped up and snaked a hand out to grab her by her wrist.
Sofa stiffened while her gaze dropped down to his offending hand.
Without her saying a word, he got the picture and released her. “Sorry.”
She turned and squared off. “Look. Let’s get something straight. I’m against this merger.”
“Clearly.”
“And I think the way you and Jacob went about this was sneaky and underhanded. And since you and my uncle cooked this whole thing up behind my back, if there’s anyone’s client list you should steal it should be his.”
“Steal?”
“I don’t need your help and I didn’t ask for it,” she continued. “This whole thing was a big mistake and I suspect that it’s just a matter of time before my uncle realizes that, too. And until that time, I’d appreciate it if you just stay the hell away from me. Are we clear?”
“Sofia—”
“It’s Ms. Wellesley, thank you.”
He blinked unbelievingly. “Are you for real?”
She simply lifted one of her perfectly arched and groomed eyebrows to telegraph that she was dead serious.
“All right.” He stepped back. “In that case, no. It’s not clear,” he said in the same dead tone that she used. “As president of A.F.I., this merger makes me second in command of our new business together. Jacob being number one, of course.”
Her eyes narrowed.
“So just in case you’re having a hard time connecting the dots that means that you work for me. And I’m no longer asking you to produce your client list. I’m telling you. If I don’t have the list in my office before five o’clock today then I’ll simply have your assistant compile the list and I’ll chose which ones you keep and which ones will be divvied up to the other agents.”
Sofia’s eyes bulged in shock. “You can’t do that!”
“Watch me.” He turned toward the conference table, snatched up his briefcase and then headed toward the door.
“Five o’clock, Sofia. I wouldn’t advise you being one minute late.”
He could feel her eyes blazing a hole in the back of his head as he exited the conference room, but at this moment, he really didn’t give a damn.
Chapter Three
“Just who in the hell does he think he is?” Sofia fumed as she stormed back down the hallway to her office, feeling as if smoke was coiling out of her ears. Ramell had the nerve to insinuate that she worked for him? Had the world gone crazy? What was up was now down and vice versa? “Give him my client list? It’ll be a cold day in hell!”
An intern looked up and then rushed to move and jerk his mail cart out of Sofia’s path before they were both bowled over. The practically comical scene caught everyone’s attention, except Sofia’s. She was too busy challenging the strength of her Christian Louboutin heels as she continued to pound them against the agency’s marbled floor. Never in her professional life had she allowed anyone to strong-arm her, and she wasn’t about to let Ramell Jordan be the first.
Her boss. Ha! That would be the damn day. The more she thought about his smug attitude back there in the conference room the more she wished that she had said something that would’ve put him in his place. Anything to wipe that satisfied look off of his face. Sure, he might be decent looking or even handsome by industry standards. Six foot one, close-cropped hair, sexy goatee and fit enough to bounce a quarter off any portion of his body—but none of that meant she was going to allow his well-honed charm to work on her.
No sir.
So what if most industry insiders liked him and she had a few unsuccessful tries at poaching a few of his clients. It just proved that he was good at fooling people. And she didn’t even want to get started in thinking about the harem of women he’d collected over the years, never settling down with one for longer than a few weeks. That’s a major red flag.
Never mind that she hadn’t been able to maintain any serious relationship herself. Circumstances are different for women. Men usually run off screaming from professional women. It had been her experience in Hollywood that men tended to like their women young and dumb, or at the very least women who put in the effort to pretend to be dumb around them. She didn’t play that game.
Sofia reached her uncle’s office and breezed inside without saying a word to his assistant, Elisa, who was just a little too slow to stop her.
“Um, Ms. Wellesley,” she called out feebly as Sofia marched right past her.
“We need to talk,” Sofia declared, interrupting Jacob in the middle of his practice golf swing.
Her uncle let out a long breath. “Meeting over so soon?” Jacob glanced at his watch. “I figured that it would be at least another five minutes before Ramell pissed you off.”
“I’m sorry, Mr. Wellesley,” Elisa said from the door.
“It’s all right.” He waved her off. “Just shut the door behind you.”
“Yes, sir.” Elisa rushed to do just that.
“What? Was she supposed to play goalie and block me from coming in here?”
Jacob sat aside his golf club as he admitted, “She was at least supposed to give me a heads-up.”
“Very funny.” Sofia folded her arms. “Just like I find it hilarious that Ramell Jordan seems to be under the illusion that he’s my