Looking for Love (Boxed set) by Rita Herron Page B

old man had, not ones he knew wouldn't last. He'd bury himself in work, finish her campaign, land this new account. Hell, he'd be so busy with customers and work he wouldn't have time to think about her.
    He just had to get his act together. As if on cue, the telephone jangled. He answered it, hoping on some wild whim it might be Jenna. Instead his latest client's deep baritone boomed over the line.
    "West, this is Washburn. I've been thinking about our meeting."
    "Yeah." This morning he'd bluffed his way through the meeting with Washburn, but he wouldn't be able to do that again. The old man was too shrewd.
    "I need to wrap this thing up and get moving. Can you have something for me by Friday?"
    "You mean this Friday, sir?" That was only three days away.
    "Yes, West, this Friday." Washburn cleared his throat. "The Templeton Agency called and they have their plan outlined. But to be fair, I wanted to give you a chance, son." He cleared his throat. "I remember what it was like to be young and just starting off. I admire a man who goes after what he wants."
    Sweat beaded on his lip. Then he should be going after Jenna. "I appreciate that, sir. I'm sure I can have something to you by Friday."
    They set a time for their meeting, then Zack hung up, the cold pizza burning a hole in his stomach. He had three days to design a brilliant campaign or he would lose his chance at this account. And if that happened, his one-man, fledgling company would struggle, floundering worse than his love life.
    And if he won the account, he could at least give himself a paycheck and have a little stability.
    Hell, if he worked enough, he wouldn't be able to think about not having a lovelife.
    Forcing his mind to his task, he propped the soap box on top of the TV, then drew an outline of the box of detergent. But his creativity was quickly dulled by the sickly greenish color of the package. Maybe he'd suggest a different packaging, something bold and bright, maybe an emerald green with soft yellow and white flecks.
    Hmm, he drew the box and redesigned the package, including soap swirling in the machine with the word Tornado written in bold letters above it. Much better. He let his hand do some free forms, brainstorming, and drew some scenes of families doing laundry, a family on the beach with the sun shining, boys traipsing in the house with dirty clothes just as he and Mark had done when they'd been rough- housing when they were small. Then he sketched a baby with red hair and big green eyes playing pat-a-cake in the mud.
    He stared at the deep green color of the box, realizing he'd chosen it because it reminded him of Jenna's eyes. And the baby—the tyke could have been a little Jenna.
    Damn. His hand moved of its own accord and once again he found himself drawing pictures of Jenna. Jenna in the store today, Jenna wearing nothing but the red garters he'd seen dangling from that Christmas tree, Jenna tossing the rose-scented bubble bath into an antique clawfoot tub. Jenna slipping into the sea of bubbles, then emerging later in all her glorious nakedness one beautiful inch at a time.
    Soak your troubles away in a warm bubble bath, he scribbled at the top...
    He closed his eyes, allowing the creative part of his brain to take control and run wild, hoping some seed of genius would spring to life about the detergent ad. A few hours later he woke up and realized he'd fallen asleep with his hand curled around the book, and he'd been dreaming about doing laundry and enjoying it. Because he was washing soft red teddies, silky boxers with jingle bells on the front and... baby clothes?
    He had to be losing his mind.
    But he'd also dreamed of a great slogan for Jenna's ad. Maybe he'd drive to her apartment and see if she was still awake.
    Only what if she was there with another man?
    * * *
    Zack stared at his watch and forced himself to wait a good five minutes in front of Jenna's apartment before leaping from the car. It took him another two minutes to