that deep black hair was smoothed back into a high ponytail. It wasn’t a
regular ponytail though. There wasn’t a hair out of place and some of the
strands were wrapped around whatever held it in place. It looked like a
celebrity stylist did Christina’s hair every single morning. Her makeup was
tasteful and probably expensive. Taylor could see Christina shopping in the
mall at those really pricy department stores and asking for the two hundred-
dollar compact of foundation and the eighty-dollar tube of mascara.
Whatever she’d paid for the makeup, it was worth it. Christina’s skin
looked like porcelain, her pink lipstick looked like it never dared get on her
teeth, and her eyelashes were extra thick and set off those dazzling blue
eyes.
Taylor realized she was gaping at Christina and tore her gaze away. “I—
I really don’t understand why I’m here. You flat out rejected my idea
yesterday. You told me that you could never get it approved.”
Christina’s remarkable composure wavered for a split second before she
offered Taylor an amused smile. “That’s right. I did say that. Why don’t we
talk about it in our boardroom?”
“We could talk about it right here. If you brought me here as some kind
of a joke, I’m not going back in there.”
“No,” Christina said seriously. “It wasn’t a joke. I don’t make jokes very
often, and if I did, they would never be of that variety.”
Taylor was reassured, since she could see that Christina was right. The
woman probably never cracked a joke. She looked like she came from
serious money. Old money. The kind of family who didn’t have a sense of
humor. Taylor realized how rude that was. She didn’t know anything about
Christina Hilford. Taylor was still stung at the rejection she’d received the
day before. She knew she wasn’t being fair.
She realized too, that if she didn’t want to just stand in the building’s
entrance, entirely mystified at whatever happened overnight, she had better
get moving. “Alright. I guess we can talk.”