The men approach, and Mandy makes introductions. They’re urban development executives, and from their expressions, they’re dealing with some kind of professional frustration.
“Gentlemen, this is Reed Nicholas of Urban Forest Solutions, and Eliza Storm of Mobile Urban Natural Clearing Herd.”
One of the men—Harrison something—shakes our hands perfunctorily. “Development in the city has been a nightmare lately. We’ve got this condo complex finishing up, supposed to be luxury furnished units for young tech professionals, but three different decorating contracts fell through. Place looks sterile as a hospital.”
“When do you need it ready?” Eliza asks.
“January first. We’ve got a crop of robotics interns starting then, and these kids expect Pinterest-worthy living spaces. Even the damn scientists are social media influencers these days.” Harrison gestures dismissively. “Impossible timeline for anything decent.”
“Do the condos need any plant life?” Eliza asks, and I catch something calculating in her tone.
Harrison laughs. “Lady, they need everything. But we’re talking about forty units that need to look like this”—he waves around the elegantly decorated room—“in just over a week.”
“This guy can get you situated in no time,” Eliza says, hooking her thumb at me with casual confidence. She reaches into what I now notice is a tiny pocket strategically placed near her cleavage and produces a crisp new business card that definitely wasn’t designed by me.
Harrison takes the card, examining it with interest. “Urban Forest Solutions. What exactly do you do?”
“Hydroponic fir trees,” I say, finding my voice. “Perfect for furnished spaces—living decorations that don’t require soil or complicated maintenance. Each unit could have at least one, plus I can coordinate with other local vendors for complementary decor.”
“Local vendors?” Eliza furrows her brow and taps her lip.
I nod and reference some of the people I know from the market downtown. “But Eliza’s sister Eva is actually a social media influencer.” I pull out my phone and show off some of the posts Eva made for my business. “I’m certain the two of us could get you what you need in time.” I sip the rest of my champagne, place the flute on a nearby tray, and lean against Eliza as if I were totally calm and used to this sort of interaction rather than buzzing like a clogged hydroponic pump inside my suit. “Provided, of course, you have the budget for procurement.”
“Budget, he says,” Harrison muses. “It’s the skillset and the items causing us trouble. You can do all that around the holidays?”
I nod as Eliza slips her hand inside my pants pocket and does indecent things with her fingertips along my thigh. With a gulp, I tell Harrison, “Give me the weekend to recover from this gala, and I promise I’ll make your roboticists happy.”
Harrison pockets the card and selects one of my sample trees from a nearby centerpiece. “I’ll call you on Monday with specifications. This could solve a major headache.”
As the development executives move away, Harrison carrying his tiny tree like a trophy, I turn to Eliza in complete amazement.
“What just happened?”
“You just landed a massive contract, I think, and got my baby sister some design work.” She grins at my stunned expression. “You better dance with me to celebrate.”
“I’m a terrible dancer. And my ankle’s still tender.”
“Could we put some ice on it? I want to twirl around this fancy room with my hot prince.”
“It’s not too bad.” I give it a shake, focusing on how amazing she looks right now in that suit. “Maybe you can rub it for me later.” I take her hand and lead her to the small area where other couples are swaying to the string quartet. As we move—me trying not to step on her feet, her laughing at my concentrating face—I find myself staring down the front of her jacket. Thinking about her fingers in my pants pocket. Noticing her lack of a shirt under this black velvet…
“Reed,” she says after a few minutes.
“Hmm?”
“My eyes are up here.”
Heat floods my face. “Sorry. It’s just… are you wearing anything under that jacket?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Her voice is pure temptation.
My pants tighten. “Yes, I absolutely would like to know.”
She leans closer, her breath warm against my ear. “Do you want to stay here and make small talk with more strangers, or would you like to take me to your place and get a proper look?”
I nearly trip over my own feet. “That’s not really a fair choice.”
“I’m not feeling particularly fair tonight.”
