Megan could smell him now that they were in an enclosed space. The same delicious cologne he’d had on yesterday but a little stronger, as though it had been applied more recently and wasn’t lingering from a morning application. She licked her lips and fastened her seatbelt. “Did you have a busy afternoon at the studio?”

“Yes.” He indicated and pulled into the traffic. “But we got a lot done. Grant, that’s my assistant director, he’s a trooper, really great at slicing final segments together. I’d be lost without him.”

“I’m thinking of getting an assistant.”

“Are you?” He glanced at her then turned back to the road.

“Yes. My friend Georgie works in HR, for an agency, she’s going to sort me someone out, just to try and see how I get on.”

“How you get on?” He slid up the gears. “Does that mean you’re worrying about letting some of your control of Winter Shoes go to someone else?”

Am I?

Megan hadn’t really thought about it. But now that she had, it probably was the real reason she’d been stalling getting help. Winter Shoes was her baby—she knew everything about it. Had a handle on every email, call and sale. “It will feel a bit strange, letting another person get on board.”

“But after this morning, all that promotion, it’s likely you’ll need it. Sales may well take off.”

“I’m already seeing that, which is great.”

He turned and flashed her a smile. “Wonderful news.”

She shrugged. “Well, it’s not like I’m saving the world or curing cancer but you know, everyone needs shoes and girls like pretty ones.”

“I think guys like seeing girls in pretty shoes.” He glanced at her red heels. “So you’re doing a great service.”

“Thank you. It’s important to feel that your days are spent doing something worthwhile, don’t you think?”

“I couldn’t agree more. I’ve directed a ton of different genre documentaries for Grace Studios, some I’ve loved, some I’ve hated.”

“And the ones you’ve loved, why have you enjoyed them?”

“Because they’ve all made me feel like I’m making a difference. Doing something good for someone, or for a group of people. Even if it’s just spotlighting a cause.”

“Like what?” Megan was intrigued. He was clearly very good at his job if he’d won awards, but she wasn’t supposed to know about his achievements. She’d die if he found out Brendon had Googled him. How immature was that.

“A couple of years ago I travelled to Afghanistan and followed a group of surgeons who had given up their own time to volunteer at Camp Bastion.”

“That sounds dangerous.”

He half shrugged. “Not really, not if we stayed on camp.”

“And did you?”

“Most of the time.”