Her Favourite Rival. Sarah Mayberry

didn’t want to do any of the above with. It wasn’t the end of the world. Right?

      Right?

      Megan sat diagonally opposite, her eyes dancing with suppressed laughter. Audrey pressed her lips together, sure her friend was remembering last night.

      At least someone was getting something positive out of the situation. That was nice.

      Gary talked about the sales results for the first week of the current catalog, and she made notes to compare some of the figures with her own data. She steadfastly refused to glance sideways at Zach, but she could feel heat stealing into her face anyway, a slow, steadily growing burn.

      She concentrated fiercely on her notes, taking down almost every word Gary said, and slowly her embarrassment subsided—that is, until Zach shifted beside her, bumping her shoulder, and the whole rising-tide-of-heat thing started all over again.

      By the time the meeting ended she had damp armpits and was desperate for five minutes alone to regain her equilibrium. The moment Gary signaled they could go she was on her feet, gathering her things as though school had been let out for summer.

      “Audrey, could I have a word?” Gary called as she all but sprinted for the door.

      She pulled up short. “Sure. Of course.”

      She joined him at the head of the table, mentally reviewing her to-do list. Maybe he wanted to talk about the new proposal they’d had from one of their lighting suppliers. Or the additions she wanted to make to the rechargeable battery range.

      But Gary’s gaze was focused over her shoulder. “You, too, Zach.”

      Of course he wanted to talk to Zach at the same time. Today was clearly her day. Not. She hugged her papers to her chest as Zach joined them.

      “I’ve got a meeting in ten so I’ll cut to the chase,” Gary said. “Whitman has asked us to put together a competitor analysis. Strengths, weaknesses, growth areas. You know the drill. I thought maybe you two would like to handle it.”

      Okay, now she knew fate really was dicking with her. The last-remaining-seat situation was one thing, but offering her a chance to score some major corporate brownie points while linking that same opportunity to her having to work hand-in-glove with Zach? That was simply cruel.

      “Sounds good,” Zach said easily. “But I’m happy to handle it on my own if Audrey’s snowed.”

      She blinked, drawn out of her own thoughts by his casually worded attempted coup. She bet he’d be happy to handle the analysis on his own. He’d probably love to give Whitman a little shoulder rub and polish his car, too.

      “Oh no, I’m up for it,” she said brightly.

      Only belatedly did she consider how her words might be construed, given what Zach had overheard her say last night. “I mean, I’m not snowed.” That didn’t sound good, either. Not when she was talking to her immediate boss. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m busy, but I’d like the opportunity.”

      “Good. You’ve got two weeks. Whitman wants a presentation after the conference.” Gary gave her a curious look before heading for the door.

      She cleared her throat and faced her temporary partner in crime. Determined to be professional about this, no matter what.

      “So...how do you want to do this?”

      “I guess we should divide up the workload. Write our sections separately, then pool data and conclusions,” Zach said.

      She forced herself to look at him directly for the first time all day. He was wearing a dark blue shirt, the color lending extra depth to his eyes. For once he wasn’t laughing at her. A small win.

      “Sounds good. Do you want to reconvene after five, draw up a schedule...?”

      “Can we make it six? I’ve got a conference call with some of the guys from Perth.”

      “Sure, suits me.”

      He gestured for her to precede him from the room and they parted in the hallway.

      In her office, she gave herself a little pep talk. This report was an opportunity, and she was going to hit it out of the park. End of story.

      She applied herself to her task list with a Terminator-like zeal, aware that she would have to carve out the time to research and write her share of the analysis over the coming week. Since no one had miraculously added a couple of extra hours to every day, she was going to have to work harder and smarter to fit everything in.

      Accordingly, she was armed with some initial thoughts when she made her way to the meeting room at six. Zach hadn’t arrived yet, so she set herself up at one end of the long table, spreading printouts and past reports in front of her.

      Makers had three major rivals—two corporate “big box” type retailers and a group of smaller independents that had banded together. While Makers kept a keen eye on all players, the company hadn’t commissioned a comprehensive competitor analysis for more than four years. A major oversight, in Audrey’s opinion, and she wasn’t surprised Whitman had made it one of his first priorities.

      She worked her way through the last report, highlighting figures that would need updating in fluorescent pink.

      “Sorry. We had a bad connection and the call went over.” Zach dropped into the chair next to her, sighing heavily. He considered all the printouts she’d laid out. “You’ve been busy.”

      “I pulled some old reports. Most of them are irrelevant now, the market has moved on so much. But there’s good background information in some of them we might be able to use.”

      “Good plan.”

      He leaned across to grab one of the reports and a spicy, mellow scent drifted her way. She recognized it as the aftershave he had stashed in his desk and shifted uncomfortably in her seat. She didn’t want to notice his aftershave. Even if it was really delicious.

      “We need to pull in a lot of data,” she said. “I’ll put out a shout to the state marketing coordinators tomorrow to get them started on some figures.”

      She was aware of Zach looking at her, but rather than make eye contact she turned another page and lifted her hand to tuck her hair behind her ear.

      “If we’re going to divide this up, how do you want to do it?” she asked.

      When he didn’t answer immediately, she lifted her gaze. He was watching her, his eyes crinkled at the corners. Clearly amused by something. As always.

      “I could take on Mathesons, and you could do Handy Hardware. Which leaves us with Home Savings—we can split that last one,” she suggested.

      “Sounds good. Gary mentioned a consulting firm we can call on for industry data?”

      They talked over the details of the project for half an hour, making notes and plans. Every now and then she glanced up and caught him smiling that small, amused smile, but he didn’t offer to share the joke and she wasn’t about to ask. The cup of tea she’d had before joining him was starting to make its presence felt.

      “Won’t be a moment,” she said as she stood.

      He was busy making a notation in the margin of one of the older reports as she left the room. She rolled her shoulders as she made her way to the ladies’. She really needed to learn to loosen up around him; her shoulders felt like they were set in concrete.

      She saw the mark on her face the moment she entered the bathroom—a big fluorescent pink streak from the middle of her cheek up into her hairline.

      “What the—?”

      Then she remembered pushing back her hair with the highlighter in her hand. D’oh.

      No wonder he’d been smirking at her.

      “Thanks for the heads-up, buddy,” she muttered to herself as she scrubbed her face clean. She took care of business, then