Nick shrugged. “Well, thanks for that, but I’ve got this. Hey, if they don’t recognize the talent in front of them, it’s their loss, right?”
Kat sputtered a laugh. “Okay, then. I see your ego has this well in hand.”
He pulled her toward him. “Pretty sure a good-luck kiss would seal the deal.”
Still smiling, she reached up and wound her arms around his neck at the same time his hands slid to her back, their heat spreading up her spine. One hand settled on her waist as his lips brushed hers, then moved slowly, the kiss deepening until Kat felt drugged.
“Good luck,” she whispered minutes later.
* * *
Nick awoke with the afternoon foremost on his mind rather than the events of the morning. He checked his phone, relieved to find no text from Kat saying she couldn’t get the time off. In his head, plans for their afternoon together were already taking shape. Throwing back the covers, he spied the in-room coffee service.Get a grip, he told himself. First things, first. Coffee, then the interview, then Kat Andrews.
Forty minutes later, he joined throngs of people on the sidewalks and walked the short distance from his hotel. He arrived at the HomeBuilders headquarters in downtown Manhattan with a few minutes to spare—exactly his plan. He shrugged out of his coat and adjusted his tie before approaching the receptionist, who greeted him with a wide smile.
“Charles will be right out,” she told him. “Please have a seat.”
While he waited, Nick looked around the lobby area. No question that a high-end design team had done the job. Clean and tasteful modern furnishings gave an upbeat feel, while dozens of glass lights hung from the ceiling projected a warm and almost playful atmosphere. Good vibes. He’d wondered whether he’d get a glimpse of his competition. He wouldn’t mind seeing who and how many others he was up against, but no other candidates lingered in the area.
He stood when a man dressed in khaki slacks and a slightly crumpled plaid shirt opened an inside door.
“Hey, Nick, I’m Charles. Come on back.”
Nick liked the casual feel already, glad he’d opted for shirt and tie without the jacket. Inside a glass-walled conference room, he met a panel of three other HomeBuilders reps, and admitted to a few nerves heating his collar as he opened his computer to begin the presentation. This was it—the chance of a lifetime. Would it bring a fast-track launch of his career or a return ticket to Colorado?
Time to step up to the plate. He thought of his assurance to Kat last night, the bravado he’d voiced. His lips twitched as her good-luck kiss also came to mind. He just had to get through this then he’d be on his way to see her again. That was all the incentive he needed.
With a deep breath, Nick squared his shoulders and cleared his throat. Smile. Speak confidently and clearly, but casually. Make eye contact. All the public speaking rules he’d ever learned flashed through his brain as the first slide appeared on the overhead screen. For fifteen minutes he took his audience on a visual tour of his studio from sawdust to finished pieces, highlighting details of craftsmanship from raw wood all the way to installation. The presentation ended with a close-up of his favorite mantel, which he left on the screen while he wrapped up.
“What other questions can I answer for you?” He noted the smiles and nods around the table.
He answered questions for another ten minutes and asked a few of his own.
“Congratulations, Nick,” Liza, the only one in the group wearing a power suit, practically drawled. “I can’t tell whether you’re nervous or not.”
“That’s big, bro,” one of the others said with a loud clap and a grin.
Bro?Before Nick could respond, Liza continued. “Have you ever been on television before?” She began leafing through the papers in front of her, which, of course, held the answer to her question.
Nick nodded toward the table. “Just the things I mentioned in my résumé. A couple of short news spots for my business and the arts council in Colorado Springs. Some podcasts.”
“Yes, well, why don’t we head to the studio and give it a shot for real?”
As soon as she stood, so did the others. “Absolutely,” Nick told her. He closed his computer and shoved it into its travel shell.
In the hallway, Liza fell into step beside him. “So, tell me. Are you? Nervous, I mean?”
Nick had the distinct impression she wanted to see if she could make him that way. Part of the test. If he said no, would he seem cocky? And if he said yes, would she nit-pick his every move? “I’m pretty comfortable talking about my work,” he said simply.
Liza let out something between a laugh and a cough. “Yeah, I’ve never met a man who didn’t like to talk about himself.”
Okay, not the right answer. “That’s not exactly–”
“Here we are.” Charles opened the door, and Liza ushered Nick into a production room full of various lighting, monitors and other equipment—and a stage set up as a mock living room complete with tables, lamp, and a small sofa.
“Have you ever used a teleprompter?” Liza asked.
“Nope,” Nick told her, trying to keep a casual, friendly tone. “This’ll be a first for me.”
