creative idea into something physical you could see. These days, though, she did
more managing of projects than the actual artwork for them. Once she landed the
Nitrovex account, the management part would increase. One more rung up the ladder with Garman. In Chicago.
“Any good news this week?” Carol asked.
Kate dropped the paper. “Hmm? Oh. I don't know. Usual stuff, I guess.
People dying and being born, getting married.”
She was relieved when Carol simply nodded and said, “Same as always.”
As Carol shuffled back to the kitchen, Kate's eyes wandered back to the photo of Peter on the front page. His face looked so goofy, so adorable…
She looked out the dining room window to the house across the yard. She could see the back porch, the padded wicker chair. She frowned as the word 'love
seat' popped into her mind, and she quickly shoved it away.
Okay, it was just one kiss. Her forehead scrunched. Okay, two. Wait, three…
No, this wasn't like kissing some new guy she was starting to get to know.
She knew Peter.
And that was the problem. He obviously wasn't excited about the Dixon job.
On paper, there should be no comparison between backed-up sinks and loose lizards and an Ivy-League-looking private high school. But she'd said it herself.
He knew what he was doing here. He loved his students, and he didn't care about
the money. He'd proven that with his dad, staying here instead of running after a
better job.
She massaged her temples, her head in her hands. The idea of how nice it would be for her if he lived in Chicago was selfish. Anyway, it was probably for
the best. After all the work she'd done to get where she was, this wasn't the time to get distracted. She was finally succeeding. Right?
Chapter Twenty-Three
Kate jammed her car into park outside the Nitrovex offices.
Deep breath. The Super Bowl, remember? The home office had called on her
way here, supportive but firm about what she needed to accomplish. Today's meeting would decide whether she'd be back in Golden Grove next week to finalize everything or in Chicago tomorrow trying to explain why she'd lost the
account. Everything else needed to take a love seat—that is, a back seat. Right now she had a job to do.
She grabbed her briefcase and marched up the short stone steps to the
Nitrovex front doors.
There was a new player today. John's grandson was here. Corey Steele, the
hotshot head of Nitrovex's European division. She might have a hometown
advantage with John, but Steele wasn't from here and she was going to have to
win him over as well.
She'd scouted his profile on the Nitrovex website. About her age. Young for
his position but with lots of credentials under his photo. Handsome, she supposed, if you weren't the kind of woman who preferred a crooked smile and
twinkling blue eyes. Steele had a kind of sharp-edged face and steely-eyed expression that matched his name. Could have just been the headshot. Got to look strong when you're a corporate mover and shaker.
As she marched down the hall, she felt like she was going into battle. Focus.
You're a marketing executive. The Town Crier agreed. That was who she was.
Not some silly ceiling-painting art nerd, right?
The receptionist was in her spot at the front desk, smiling, hair in a bun. “Hi,
Kate. You can set up in the conference room. John's just finishing up with another meeting.”
Her competition?
