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Emma slid a glance to the clock that hung on the wall behind Josh, who was also forced to sit through this meeting. It was barely past eight a.m. She wasn’t sure how much longer she could hold out before asking for coffee.

She carefully folded her hands in front of her and rested them on the polished mahogany conference table in the center of his cavernous office.

“Mr. Price, I promise, I have never heard of Aidan MacWilliam. I don’t understand why he called you on your personal phone, nor why he’s refusing to work with any other publicist but me. ”

Emma had to admit, she herself was curious as to why Mr. MacWilliam sought her services.

On paper, she was an obvious rising star, but she wasn’t quite the PR star yet.

And those PR stars were at the level where the elite people of the world would seek them out.

Glancing at the file in front of her again, she knew that Aidan MacWilliam fit into the “elite people of the world” category.

“Perhaps he knows your work,” Mr. Price concluded, interrupting her thoughts.

Emma doubted it, but didn’t say it aloud.

Publicly, her name wasn’t attached to anyone—clients rarely told each other about a great publicity manager, for fear the attention would be taken from them and placed onto the newer, bigger client.

Only other publicists knew the good publicists.

And management is what determined which publicists got which clients.

Plus, according to Mr. Price, this client was from Ireland. Price Publicity, LLC’s entire client base was American.

Mr. Price heaved a great sigh, as though he had finally thought his last thought on the subject, but ruined the effect when he added, “MacWilliam wants you. He stated very clearly that his situation is a private one, and that he wouldn’t discuss it with anyone but you.

So.” He cleared his throat meaningfully.

“You’ll accept him as your new client, but I want daily updates as to what he wants, how you’re going to provide it to him, and how we can use this to promote the company in the public eye.

” He dismissed them both with a wave of his hand, and Emma quickly followed Josh out of the intimidating office.

In the kitchen area, as she stirred the sugar into her cup of coffee, Emma leveled a stare at Josh.

“So you’re telling me that this guy—MacWilliam—calls up the biggest publicity name in New York City on his home phone and simply demands that he wants me as his PR manager? ” She tilted her head skeptically .

Josh casually leaned against the counter, sipping his own cup.

“You heard Price. MacWilliam is a wealthy, reclusive man.” He picked up the folder and pulled out the dossier.

“He wants what he wants, when he wants it—not unlike the majority of our clients. Hmm. No online presence, no paper trails, no reputation smears, not even an angry ex.” He looked at her soberly.

“After what happened with Kincaid, this should be a walk in the park. Maybe it’s just what you need to get your mojo back. ”

Emma blinked back the sudden prick of tears, humiliation swamping her; Josh was the only one who knew of her situation, as she’d put the paperwork in months ago to be removed from the Kincaid account. “I’m sorry. My personal life shouldn’t affect my professional one.”

Josh smiled sympathetically. “I know you’re suffering. A broken heart is—”

Emma threw her hand up. “Whoa. Let’s get one thing straight. I am not brokenhearted over losing that cheating, lying jackass. Absolutely not. I’m upset that I didn’t see it coming. But I am not upset that I am free from a loveless waste of a relationship.”

Josh blinked. “Okay then.”

“Now. Back to MacWilliam. You agree that this doesn’t add up, right?”

“There are plenty of eccentric folks out there,” Josh replied, clearly relieved that her outburst was over. “And he specifically requested that you be the one to assist him. And, as you know, the wealthiest clients get what they want. We deliver it.”

“So you want me to meet with him tonight, take him to dinner, see what this is all about?”

Josh shook his head. “No. Well, maybe. First, you’ll meet with him here, this afternoon. I want him to be well aware that we have a face to his name. Safety first.”

Josh was a good guy, and he was always ensuring his team’s security. No one could have meetings outside the office without documenting them first—and in such a large city, Emma was grateful for it.

Josh continued to pore over the paper in front of him. “Oh. Here’s something. Looks like he plans to check out the auction that we’re handling.”

Christie’s was having a special auction that the publicity firm had been hired to promote.

A collection of pristine, rare, and expensive medieval artifacts had been placed for auction by an anonymous source, and it promised to be one of the most glamorous events of the year in New York City.

Tickets just for the chance to view the artifacts were priced in the thousands.

Emma was dying to see pictures, but all items and descriptions were under lock and key.

No one was allowed a sneak peek until twenty-four hours prior to the event.

And even then, you had to present a cashier’s check in excess of ten thousand dollars at the auction house for access to the descriptions.

She wouldn’t be seeing those anytime soon.

“Emma!”

“Sorry,” she replied automatically, once again caught lost in her thoughts.

Josh sighed. “You need to shake this funk. Maybe MacWilliam is the client to do that.”

“Maybe,” Emma capitulated with a small smile, taking the folder labeled Aidan MacWilliam from his outstretched hand. “I don’t have any Irish clients.”

“You do now.”

Emma straightened her skirt and smoothed her hair. Mr. MacWilliam was waiting for her in Mr. Price’s office.

“Dibs,” Heinous Heidi murmured as Emma passed by her cube .

Emma paused despite her better judgment. “Excuse me?”

Heidi smirked. “After Mr. MacWilliam meets you and realizes his mistake, I call dibs on his account. Price already signed off.”

Two college interns popped their heads up from their cubes.

“Holy hell, Emma. Did you see him? I know we get lookers in here all the time…but whoa. ”

“He is so unbelievably hot!” the other chimed in breathlessly.

“Down, girls,” Emma replied with a slight smile. Her expression became frosty as she turned back to Heidi. “Looks like you’ll have to fight for him.”

Heidi gracefully crossed her endless legs and sat back slightly, giving Emma a perfect view straight into perfect cleavage.

She gave Emma a Cheshire Cat smile and almost purred when she replied, “Oh, Emma. I don’t fight for men.

They fight for me. I’m sure you can relate…

oh. That’s right. You’ve never had anyone fight for you.

In fact, if memory serves, you don’t have anyone anymore. ” She snickered.

Emma felt the blow exactly where Heidi wanted it to land, but she struggled not to let it show.

Intern One’s eyes were enormous, and she slunk back down to her desk, but Intern Two seemed not to realize the viper’s den into which she was staring.

Heidi glanced up at her and raised an imperial, elegantly threaded brow.

“Get me a grande cafe mocha, no sugar, no whipped cream, extra dry, with half skim, half 2 percent milk. Extra hot. Now , Thing Two.”

The girl scrambled off her chair amid loud crashes and a few gasps as she rushed to do Heidi’s bidding. Heidi gave a last look to Emma before turning around, effectively dismissing her.

Emma bit her tongue, her ears steaming, and continued on. No matter how many times she told herself she was a better person than Heidi, it really didn’t matter. When you sleep with the boss, you get the best contracts. And Emma refused to sleep with her boss.

At least she doesn’t have a corner office , Emma consoled herself. Heidi’s cube was just as small as her own.

Gayle, Mr. Price’s sixty-something personal assistant, gave her a wink as Emma approached the office.

“The fates are smiling on you today,” she whispered as she pressed a button.

Mr. Price’s door unlocked, and Gayle waved her in.

“If you do nothing else, enjoy that eye candy. We’re all jealous you get to spend time with him in close quarters! ”

Emma’s mouth dropped open. Where had all the professionalism of the world gone?

First the interns, now Gayle? Well, on second thought…

the interns were first-year college women.

Emma expected that kind of behavior from them, given their personalities.

But Gayle? She was a grandmother, for heaven’s sake!

Emma gave her a bemused look, then took a deep breath.

Letting it out slowly, Emma breezed into Mr. Price’s office as though she met with high-profile clients on a daily basis.

“Ms. Perkins?” The lovely accent changed her name to pair-kins , his deep voice resounding in her chest. She saw him sitting at the same table she spent her morning at, the view of Central Park in the distance behind him.

And her mind went completely, utterly blank.

Aidan MacWilliam stood with an easy grace, and her eyes went wide.

The man was her darkest fantasy, all dressed up in a tailored Armani suit and tie.

Searing green eyes, framed by unfairly dark lashes, stared back at her, and a slight smile played at the corners of his lips.

His jaw and cheeks looked to be carved from granite—hard, smooth, perfect.

His nose had a slight crook in it, as though it had been broken before.

His shoulders were enormous; she dimly wondered if he played football.

She simply stared up at him, her mouth dry, before realizing he was holding out his hand.

She dumbly grasped it, her eyes refusing to blink as if they didn’t want to miss out on a second of the raw masculine beauty before her.