"I'm going to be blunt." At his nod of encouragement, she skimmed through the list in her head. "First, you have a number of employee incentives and turnover is pretty low. However, there are a couple things I'd suggest to boost morale, such as a Christmas office party and a company-wide family picnic. Two events split through the year to show appreciation."
His brows lifted as if he'd not thought of such a thing. "I can do that."
Hm. Obviously, he was willing to put money into his staff, understanding happy workers meant productivity. Points for him. "Second, this is a corporation, but there's no trace of individuality in the building. The steady stream of visitors and business coming through the doors are met with nothing. I think adding subtle touches would make a world of differenceframing newspaper articles about Gaines Industries for the lobby, a splash of color here and there, prints of the city, photos of those you help. That kind of thing."
"Consider it done." No pause. No hesitation. Just swift agreement.
She pursed her lips. "That means the conference room and your office, as well." She glanced around. "Maybe a picture of you and your family on a shelf. A couple plants. Definitely a rug with some color."
A grin teased his mouth. "Have at it."
Interesting. "I recommend getting involved in one charity and backing it. Seeing as the government contract is in the works and taking into account your current programming, something with the military. Injured vets or families of fallen soldiers. You also need a stronger social media presence. f*******: and Twitter, probably."
"You've put a lot of thought into this, haven't you?" He seemed equally impressed and amused. Slowly, he was unwinding and exposing the guy behind the mask. And she liked him. "Done and done. Next?"
More than a little surprised, she considered how to approach the following subject. It might cross a line for him. "About your image. You're required to attend a lot of benefits. Previous restraint in bringing a date to avoid association is wise, but it pegs you as a loner. Seeing as we'd have a working partnership and my role is in public relations, we should attend functions together. It'll put someone at your side without throwing speculation. If you begin dating someone seriously, we can reevaluate."
He glanced away, mouth firm in thought. "It never crossed my mind. That's a good idea. I'm up for it."
Floored, she blinked. Flat out, she hadn't expected him to be this agreeable. "I'd schedule public spotlights. Interviews, community events, yada."
For that, he paused. His respirations increased. Finally, he cleared his throat. "I'm no good at that sort of thing. If you're willing to coach me, I'll be amendable."
Wow. She wasn't seeing a downside. Her Spidey sense wasn't tingling in warning anymore, either. "I'm going to be honest with you. If you hire me, I will be your shadow, Xavier. This will be all but a marriage without the benefits."
He offered her a droll look. "If that's the case, let's hop a plane to Vegas and we can have benefits, too."
Well, jeez. He had a sense of humor. And she should absolutely not find that sexy. "Ha. Funny. We need open communication foremost. You're not going to like all my ideas and I'm sure you'll grate on my nerves, too, but I expect compromise. Are you comfortable with that?"
"Yes." He sighed, studying her. "I have a couple stipulations of my own." He held up a finger. "One, a signed confidentiality agreement. You'll be privy to corporate dealings and it's not just me I need to protect." Up went another finger. "And two, honesty at all times. I'm not always the best judge of character. I'm more of a numbers guy and you have a gift for reading people. I don't care what the situation, but if something feels off, if someone rubs you the wrong way, or if there's an issue in any aspect, you will come to me first. Always."
She didn't know what to be more upset aboutthe fact he felt he had to say either of those things or that he obviously had been burned once before to necessitate making the stipulations. "Agree and agree." This was a done deal in her mind. Still, she hesitated and decided to go for broke. Call it curiosity. "Tell me something no one else knows about you."
Brows furrowed, he stared at her a long beat, his gaze unreadable. "I'm allergic to coconut. Wait, my doctor knows that." He rubbed the back of his neck, frustration and something close to panic in his expression, then looked at her necklace.
Okay, he'd done that several times last night, too. To give him a starting point, she asked him about the quirk.
Closing his eyes, he dug his fingers into his lids. His chest stopped rising and falling. Just when she thought he wouldn't respond, he slapped a hand to his thigh and tentatively met her gaze. "I have a self-diagnosed social anxiety disorder. I'm fine in meetings and typically in small crowds, but if I don't know the person or if the association doesn't involve business, I can freeze up. Having something to focus on helps, like your necklace, for instance."
Every cell in her body shut down as she watched him. Utterly still, she rewound what he'd said and connected his words to his actions that she'd witnessed the past two days. "Self-diagnosed. Meaning, you haven't been in therapy or"
"No. Not one soul knows that about me. In fact, aside from my parents and my bodyguard, this is the most open conversation I've had in I don't know how long. I think you should be aware of the condition, considering the work you'd be doing for me if you say yes." His throat worked a swallow, and he dropped his chin as if humiliated.
And, there. There was the man under the suit, the heart behind the shield. He wasn't cold or insensitive. He wasn't a machine or a robot. He didn't lack personality or character. Quite simply, he was functioning in the only way he knew how.
Without a word, he rose and moved to the wall of windows. His spine stiff, he shoved his hands in his pockets and appeared to take in the view before him. Dusk had settled and stars winked in the distance, a backdrop to the lights from the buildings. He looked so lonely, so lost standing there, and she had to wonder how many times he'd done this. A powerful, uber rich, incredibly smart man...standing all by himself.
Sudden emotion tightened her throat. The professional part of her clicked off and left her just a woman, sympathizing with him, her heart exposed.
Cautiously, she stood and stepped behind him, halting with a couple feet of distance between them. The window reflected his image, and his torn, wide-open gaze met hers in the glass. She could only guess how his honesty had leveled his confidence. Emasculating, really. And he'd trusted her enough to tell her. That said so very much about him.
She adjusted her glasses and chose her words carefully. "You are a brilliant man. To accomplish what you have at your age is remarkable. Behind the money and under the prestige, you're just a guy who prefers gigabytes and algorithms over people. There's no shame in that, and your field of interest didn't allow for much social interaction. A little nervousness is to be expected."
Hands deep in his pockets, he slowly turned to face her, jaw ticking. Shock and relief warred in his expression. "Peyton..." He shook his head as if at a loss. His gaze dropped to her necklace.
An idea bloomed, and she held up a finger, telling him to hold on. She strode to her purse on the table, dug around until she found what she was searching for, and moved back in front of him. His eyes shifted from the floor to her necklace again.
"Look at me, please. Up here." She waved her hand, indicating her face, and he complied. "I want you to understand me and look in my eyes. Get used to it. They're your focal point now, your safety net. Here, you'll find no judgment or pressure. I'll be there for all your appearances. If you start to feel nervous or overwhelmed, just find me."
His lips parted in shock. "Does that mean...?"
"I accept your offer."
He let out an extinguishing breath and slammed his lids shut, his shoulders sagging. "Thank you."
She waited for his eyes to open and then reached for his hand, depositing an item in his palm. "That's a military challenge coin. Service members collect them."
He studied the gold metal roughly the size of a half-dollar, running his thumb across the four branches engraving the front. "I don't understand."
"That coin is one of many my brother had before he died. He used to carry one on him at all times and, when he felt scared, he'd tightly fist it. He said it grounded him." She closed Xavier's fingers around it and met his golden eyes. "This is for your pocket."
"Peyton, I can't take this."
"I'm giving it to you, and yes, you can. If I'm not around, just slip your hand inside your pocket when you need assurance. No one will ever know." She smiled as his gaze reclaimed hers. "I knew you were a smart cookie who'd catch on fast. You haven't looked at my necklace in five whole minutes."
With a rough, low laugh, he shook his head. "I think you need a raise. Already."
Jeez. A girl could melt with that grin aimed her way. It transformed his whole face from cool disinterest to warm fuzzies. "At least let me fill out new employee paperwork first."