I give her a genuine smile. She truly is a nice woman, and she makes a killer lasagna. Whenever she has leftovers from fixing it for her son, she often brings me a plate.
“Regina, how are you?”
“I’m good. I just finished my daily walk.”
I nod, and respond to her earlier question. “I’m headed down to West Palm.”
“West Palm. The big city. What takes you there?”
“I’m going to talk to a real estate developer who’s trying to bulldoze the Reilly building in the name of progress.”
Regina reaches out and pats me on the arm. “Well he doesn’t know who he’s dealing with, does he? You give him hell, honey.”
Fueled by caffeine and the encouraging words from Regina, I merge onto the interstate toward West Palm Beach, determined to confront this asshole who’s trying to upend my life. Normally, I would take the more scenic route of the A1A, also known as the Jimmy BuffetMemorial Highway, but today, I’m on a mission. As I pull off the interstate onto Route 1, the sights and sounds of the large coastal city are all around me. The traffic is much heavier than in Pelican Point, the blaring horns and revving of engines reflecting the impatience of the drivers. The business district is alive with activity; the old Florida charm of Pelican Point that I’m accustomed to has given way to the chrome and tinted windows of sterile structures.
I find a nearby garage to park in and cross the street to the modern monstrosity of a high-rise building overlooking the water that houses Stone Development. As I step in front of the entrance, the double doors quietly swish open. I march confidently through the glass and steel lobby toward the building directory, the click of my heels echoing my determination to force this man to see me as a person, a successful businesswoman, rather than someone hiding behind an email. As I approach the elevator, the morning sunlight glints off the shiny surfaces; however, it’s impossible to create a warm vibe in this structure, which is the polar opposite of my beloved building. Before the mirrored doors of the elevator open, the reflection allows me to straighten my carefully selected vintage-inspired dress and ensure my sleek bun hasn’t been wrecked by the humidity. The jewels on my grandmother’s brooch twinkle in the light, reminding me of the importance of preserving what she inspired me to build.
When the elevator arrives, I step in.I won’t let you down, Nana.As it climbs to the executive floor, my heartpounds faster with each number that lights up.I can do this.
Upon my exit, I spot a set of glass double doors at the end of the corridor. Like the main doors into the building, they open automatically as I approach, ushering me into a large reception area with various seating arrangements. As I walk toward the reception desk, I notice a man sitting at a small table coloring with a little girl. Not a scene I expected to see in the offices of Stone Development.
I paste on a smile and approach the receptionist.
“Hello. I’d like to see the CEO please.”
“Yes, ma’am. Do you have an appointment?”
“No, I don’t, but I’ve been communicating with him via email. My name’s Desirae Russell.”
The receptionist looks past me, focusing on something to my rear. I turn, as the man I saw with the little girl approaches.
“Desirae Russell.”
My name rolls off his tongue as smooth as the finest grade of silk I use for my designer gowns.
“And you are?” But instinctively I know. The first sight of Stone Anginelli’s striking face and commanding presence sends an unwelcome shiver down my spine. Even though I’m a big girl, his presence is larger than life, making me feel petite in comparison. Now is not the time to be distracted. I raise my chin and prepare for the battle I came here for. But he’s already not playing fair. The smell of leather and success, and the cut of his tailored suit that fits to perfection, might just be his weapons of destruction.
CHAPTER 4
STONE
The woman standing before me is a vision, far more striking and beautiful in person than in the photo on my laptop screen. She’s wearing an emerald green dress of some type of soft fabric that clings to her body, outlining every single curve, the color causing her eyes to sparkle. My mouth goes dry like a man dying of thirst and I feel like an awkward teenage boy gawking at a supermodel. After long seconds I tear my eyes away from her, suddenly remembering I’ve got a five-year-old kid to look out for.
“Leighanne, will you watch Hailey until her mom returns?”
My receptionist responds with a smile. “Of course.”
Desirae speaks. “My apologies for interrupting your time with your little girl.”
“She’s not mine. I’m just helping out…a friend.” I’m not sure why I feel the need to correct her assumption. “Would you like something to drink? Coffee?”
“No, thank you. I won’t take up too much of yourtime. I just wanted to put a face to my email, so you can see that your proposed project will impact real people.”
Leighanne clears her throat, reminding me that we have an audience, and most likely ready to enjoy the show.
“Let’s talk in my office.” I gesture for her to follow me.
I close the door behind us and she arches a brow, but makes no comment.
