We settled into chairs around a wide wooden desk stacked neatly with piles of papers. The wall behind was floor-to-ceiling shelving with assorted items and dozens of multi-coloured binders, labelled by year and sorted by binder color into different materials. Someone with a neat script had written on the edges: cartridges, paper, metals, electronics.

Mr Reynolds, elbows resting on the arms of a brown leather swivel chair, steepled his fingers in front of him and asked, "Has Crystal handed the account over to you, Ms Khan?"

"Not that she'll be missed," muttered Sam and exchanged a loaded look with his boss.

I frowned and looked between them. What's with that? Crystal always spoke so highly of Reynolds.

Mr Reynolds gave a tight smile. "Crystal comes in every month, like clockwork, asking how many calls I've had from the ad. She is... very attentive, shall we say?"

Sam smothered a laugh in his hand. "Sorry, sorry," he said and coughed into his hand, trying to cover up.

I flipped open my bag and unzipped it. "I'm just filling in today because she's been unexpectedly detained at the office. I have the contract here for you to sign."

I took out the stapled pages that detailed Reynolds Recycling marketing campaign, but the same urge to be a better person that made me try not to lie, also made me hesitate in selling that awful package.

Mr Reynolds picked up on my reluctance and asked, "Is something wrong?"

This account was Crystal's baby, and I didn't want to encroach on her turf, but I'd already figured out a whole different plan that would serve him infinitely better.

My mind was lining up the kind of questions I ask a new client when I'm getting a sense of what they do and what they need.

"I do have a few questions about your business. I'm curious how Crystal came up with this particular plan."

I ran my eyes over the various labels on the binders. "What exactly do you recycle here, Mr Reynolds?"

He tipped his chair back and tapped his index fingers together for a moment, watching me look over the binders.

When I looked back at him, trying and failing miserably at not noticing how well the baby blue t-shirt contrasted with his skin, he said, "You know, Crystal never once asked me that in the two years I've been with your firm."

My eyebrows shot up.

He waved a hand behind him. "I started in recycling printer cartridges from businesses, then expanded to electronics and scrap metal. We also have a mobile unit that shreds sensitive documents. I try to fill in the gaps for the county recycling, or counties, I guess it is since we serve a pretty broad area."

I got out a pen and paper and jotted down the information. After fifteen minutes I had a good view of how his business ran.

"Do you collect from the general public at all?"

Mr Reynolds raised his eyebrows. "Actually that's why we started our shop 'A Penny Saved'. It's part community outreach, to try to get the general public to bring in their recycling, and part store, to keep things like old binders that are still perfectly serviceable out of landfills."

I nodded absently as my mind raced. "I love that store."

Mr Reynolds smirked at Sam. "See?"

I looked back and forth between them, my own small smile tugging at my mouth.

Sam closed his eyes and waved a hand in defeat. "We had a wager when we started the store about how well it would do."

Mr Reynolds twisted his seat side to side, a huge grin spread across his face. "It's been more successful than we expected."

"Has it helped with the community bringing in items?"

Reynolds face fell slightly. "Not as much as I hoped. The majority of our customers are businesses, and very few locals drop off items, either here or at the store."

A jingle for a radio ad popped in my head, and I happily added that to my pages of notes. This was shaping up nicely.

My smile faded. Now I only had to get Mr Reynolds to accept this without Crystal firing me or some such nonsense for showing her up. If I bent my rule about lying, I could pretend my plan was partially her idea. I shook my head. There was no way Mr Reynolds was going to buy that line if Crystal hadn't suggested a different plan in the two years she'd had this contract.

"Would you like to re-sign the current marketing plan, Mr Reynolds?" I cringed as I asked. I had to give Crystal a shot.

He pushed his full lips out briefly, and I forced myself to look down at my paper instead of memorising their shape, although I feared I already had as I moistened my own.

"Well, we have a discount code on the ad for people to quote, so it's easy to see it's been getting at least some response."

"I hear a 'but'," I said, looking up.

Mr Reynolds swivelled his chair again as he regarded me, thoughts swirling in his eyes.

"My guess is you've got a completely different plan than Crystal."

It was a statement, and I squirmed at the truth of it.

"What makes you say that?"

Mr Reynolds leaned forward in his chair. "Crystal has never asked me details about my business, or where I want to take it. She's never written down a note, and usually doesn't recall any details that I tell her. You have been writing non-stop since we first started talking, and I bet if I look at your paper I'll see an almost perfect transcription of our conversation."

"Uhhh," I started, because what could I say? He was right. You didn't get scholarships like I'd won with bad note-taking skills.

"So, Miss Khan, would I be correct in saying that you've already planned out a different strategy for my advertising?"

I nodded and sucked my lips in briefly between my teeth. Mr Reynolds focused on my mouth, so I released them, making a slight 'pop' that I'm sure he heard because his mouth twitched up in a smile. I groaned inwardly in embarrassment, but kept my professional face on.

"Yes, I have a few different ideas for you."

"Lay it on me," he said, looking deep into my eyes.

Goosebumps broke out all over my body and my traitor eyes looked at his lips. I sucked in a sharp breath and gave myself a mental shake. What was with me today?

Besides he didn't mean it that way... did he? I couldn't figure out the expression on his face. There was an intensity and focus there I'd never seen anyone direct at me. If only I could take a photo to show Dottie and Jaya.

I adjusted my position in my chair and said, "Well, let me go over a few different possibilities."

Fifteen minutes later, Mr Reynolds had agreed to every single suggestion I made. He didn't even blink at the increase in price - a big enough increase that this sale boosted his company into the top ten clients of our firm.

He nodded his agreement again as he looked at the plan I'd roughly outlined on paper. "You've got a brilliant mind for marketing. Are you sure I can't hire you away?"

Satisfaction suffused me. "These changes will need to be outlined in a new contract. I'll have Crystal draw it up and bring it around."

Mr Reynolds shook his head. "No."

"No, you don't agree to the new changes?" My voice rose in confusion.

"I mean, no, I don't want Crystal bringing by the new contract." Mr Reynolds looked at me hard for a moment. "You see, Miss Khan, I was going to inform Crystal today that I wasn't going to renew my contract. The ad wasn't generating enough revenue for me to warrant paying your company. However, with what you've proposed, I'll stay on board. But only if you take over my contract."

"Hear, hear!" Derek said. "Your plan is excellent."

The commission from this sale would pay for the scuba-diving course I wanted to take and help secure my top-earner status again for this year. I'd be an idiot to hand it to Crystal - well, even if it was a piddly little commission, I'd be an idiot to hand it to Crystal.

She was going to have my head on a platter, though.

To take over the whole contract would mean I'd have to see Mr Derek Reynolds fairly frequently at first while we set everything up and have regular contact after that for basic client maintenance.

Here I thought all my interaction with him would be saving one measly little spider.

My heart beat in traitorous excitement. Professionally it was golden. The campaign was exciting and commission high. This might be a huge mistake personally though, because I wanted this man in a physical way I'd never experienced before.

I had a flash of insight. No, not a personal mistake. This was a challenge. I'd been given this situation to help me overcome a weakness I hadn't yet encountered. My shoulders relaxed with the security of that resolve. I could keep my relationship with Mr Reynolds completely professional. I could and I would.

I gripped the papers tightly in both hands and nodded. "Deal."

A wide smile spread across Mr Reynolds face and my heart sped back up.

I glanced at my watch and jumped up. "I'm sorry, I didn't realise the time. I have another... appointment."

"Another client?" Mr Reynolds asked, rising with me and again perceptively honing in on my hesitation. How did this man read me so easily?

I stuffed papers into my satchel. "Something like that." Not being able to lie was a real inconvenience sometimes.

"Meeting at the office?"

As I struggled with the zipper on my bag, I didn't answer in the hopes he'd just drop it.

"Will you be able to come back after your 'appointment'?" he asked, and I could hear the quotes and curiosity in his voice. "I'd really like to talk more about your ideas for this campaign."

"I won't be able to, unfortunately."

I'd just be able to make Friday prayers at the mosque, then I'd have to go break it to Crystal that she'd lost her main account. My stomach fizzed at the thought. It was bad enough how much grief she gave me for the hour I went to mosque, this week she was going to add in a full-on tirade.

Maybe I wouldn't rush back to the office. Although deep down I knew I would because I was me.

I unzipped my bag again and hastily pulled out my agenda, somehow catching my business card holder which flipped open and spewed the small tan rectangles across his desk. Hastily I grabbed at the ones in front of me while he picked up a few that had shot towards him. "I'm so sorry. I don't know how that happened. I'm not usually so clumsy."

Tucking the pile back into the case, I flipped open my agenda to next week. "How about next Tuesday at 1:30?"

He smiled in amusement and turned the page in his own calendar to write down the date. "Next Tuesday it is."

"You'll be back from your difficult weekend of golf by then," Sam teased.

Derek chuckled and looked up at me. I cursed my tingling palms that hoped he would extend his hand again so I'd be forced to shake it.

"Don't forget these." He held out the business cards, pincered between his index and middle fingers.

I carefully took hold of them by the edges. "Thanks," I said as I stowed them away. "Here's one for you." I squirmed with excitement even though it was standard procedure to give a client a business card.

He smiled a bit wider and took the proferred card, laying it carefully in the middle of his calendar. "Sam, would you walk Miss Khan out? I just remembered something I need to take care of."

Sam looked a bit perplexed, but nodded and said, "Sure thing, Boss."

Mr Reynolds stood when I did, but stayed behind his desk and hooked his thumbs into the front loops of his jeans. "See you soon, Miss Khan."

A shiver ran through me at the promise in his voice. "Have a good weekend, Mr Reynolds," I said and followed Sam out, feeling Mr Reynolds eyes on me the whole way.