3 - Prince Charming

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I pass the desks and make a left with Prince Charming tailing close.

"Hey, Hall," he calls, and a brunette's head pops out of a cubicle.

A tall lady in a black jumpsuit stands up and hurries toward us. "Mr. Rhode, what brings you here?"

He points at me, and I smile. "Abby Shepherd," I say, holding out a hand. "I'm here to discuss editing videos for your website—"

"Yeah, yeah." Claire waves me off. "Take a seat. I'll be right there."

I shrug and shoot a glance at Mr. Rhode the hot stuff over my shoulder as he watches me walk away. He casually rests an elbow over a cubicle's divider, then turns to Claire. "What's your status on the Middle-East web campaign? Why aren't the ads live yet?"

"The agency asked for a couple of days to make minor adjustments..."

"Jesus." Mr. Rhode shuffles his feet. "They'll only add titles. Any dumb-ass can do it."

"Titles in different languages, Mr. Rhode. The back-translations just got approved, and the fonts—"

"We need those ads running yesterday, Claire," Mr. Rhode says firmly, pinching the bridge of his nose. A couple of curious heads peer out from their cubicles, then rush back in. "Our sponsors are paying for something that isn't live yet. How am I supposed to explain this...mess to the board? Do you know how much is on the line?"

I peer over Claire's cubicle's walls and bite my lip while setting my bags on the desk. Thank God I am not her, because I'd break into sobs right now. Mr. Hot Stuff is the burning kind.

"I'm sorry," Claire mumbles. "I'll get it sorted..."

"Never mind." Mr. Rhode walks over to my cubicle and stands in the doorway. "You edit videos, right? Can you do titles?"

I look around to make sure I'm the only one in the tiny space before I nod. "Uh-huh."

He clenches his jaw and breathes into his chest again. God, I wish he didn't do that... His oaky perfume hits me. I have to take back a step to refocus.

"We have ten ads, each to be titled in different languages. Can you do it today?"

"Do you have the fonts?" I ask, unzipping my laptop case.

Mr. Rhode raises his brows. "Claire?"

"Yes. Yes, we do." She hurries and squeezes past Mr. Rhode. Then opening a drawer by the corner, she hands me a flash drive. "You can connect to our server with this," she says and explains how while Mr. Rhode watches our every move like a hawk.

"It's fine. Should take an hour or so," I assure her, but Mr. Rhode's frown deepens, and I know that I've picked the wrong words.

"She says an hour. The agency gives you two days." He taps on the wall. "The magazine is launching in multiple territories. The agency is stalling. Our editors' egos are higher than Mount Everest. Now, I'm only one man, and I'm here, dealing with subtitles." He draws in a deep breath, then catches Claire's gaze again. His caramels eyes are flaming like hell pits right now. "Tell me, Miss Hall, is it time to find a new producer?"

Ouch... Okay, his reaction is over the top. "It's not Claire's or the agency's fault," I explain, landing a friendly hand on Claire's shoulder. "I'm a freelancer—the best one in Manhattan. My schedule revolves around emergency projects like these. Besides, I'm super fast."

King of Frowns stares blankly at me for a second. His lips start to quiver. Is he trying to fight a smile?

I whip a gaze at Claire, who is now leaning over her desk with her back turned. "We'll get everything ready in an hour, Mr. Rhode," she says weakly.

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