1
“Where the hell is Manuela?” Nate Collier asked Rae, the twenty-something girl with purple streaked short hair who had made his life miserable for the past week. “She’s never late,” he added, narrowing his eyes at the terrified woman standing in the middle of his office.
“She’s supposed to be here today?” she said, shrugging.
“Yes,” he said, running his fingers through his hair. “She’s supposed to return today. We have an important meeting with a client who doesn’t speak English. Manuela specifically promised to come back today for this meeting, since she’s the only one who speaks Portuguese in the office. Did you contact Manuela yesterday like I asked?”
Rae shook her head. “Oh, shit, I forgot. Sorry.”
Nate rubbed his forehead. At forty-three, he had no patience for training new people. Especially when they weren’t supposed to stick around for long. He glanced at his Breitling watch, wishing for the day to go by faster.
When Manuela had asked for a week off out of the blue, he’d been surprised. She knew he liked his routine, and it wasn’t like her to just drop things with little notice. She was the most reliable and efficient assistant he’d ever had. Thanks to the good rapport she’d established with Clarice Sampaio, his Brazilian client, Manuela would also be his ticket to early retirement.
“Call her now,” he demanded, unable to keep impatience from his voice.
“Yes, sure,” Rae said, a nervous look on her face, then she scurried from his office and returned to her desk.
He raked a hand through his hair, then turned around to watch the breathtaking Pacific Ocean view. His office was located in one of the most coveted areas in Tulip, California. He knew that because, as the owner of Collier Realty Group, he’d wanted a location that would be competitive, but also set a tone for his clients, and offer him some respite during his workaholic days.
His phone buzzed, and he glanced at the screen, but didn’t pick it up.
If you want to have coffee some time, let me know. I miss you.
Nate drew in a breath.
Two months ago, he’d broken up with Megan, his girlfriend of three years. A woman who was great on paper—successful, extremely attractive, and kind. He couldn’t blame it on not wanting to commit, because he wanted, one day, someday, to have a wife and kids. But, being a creature of habit, he’d become accustomed to Megan. He didn’t love her, and she deserved better—even if it wasn’t from him.
His own parents inspired him, since they shared a happy marriage. Maybe, though, marriage wasn’t for him. What if Megan was the perfect person, and he just wasn’t husband material? He should have been more upset after breaking up with someone he’d dated for three years. At forty-three, how much longer would he wait? Pretty soon fatherhood would be completely out of the equation. He was pretty athletic and healthy, but would he really want to be a first time father in his sixties?
He finally grabbed the phone, but decided against replying.
Keeping a friendship with Megan wouldn’t do any of them favors. They already had a relapse a week after their break-up, when they slept together after too much wine. A mistake he wouldn’t repeat.
He averted his gaze back to the beach, hoping the soothing sound of the waves would calm his concerns. Then, a curvy figure caught his attention. He studied the woman, walking with flare, swaying her hips. She wore big sunglasses, and the morning breeze played with the wavy tips of her hair—a sultry combination of reddish and brown tones, making it hard to know which was the main shade.
Desire stirred inside him, and he could have laughed at himself. Getting the hots for strangers at random wasn’t his thing. Even though she wore sunglasses and he couldn’t see her face because of the angle he was standing, he doubted she was even in her thirties. Probably young, and that meant another type of headache.
Still…
She wore a mustard yellow dress that complimented her bronze skin, and it flared down her body. From where he stood, he could tell she had round, curvy hips. What would she look like wearing jeans? He’d always been a shameless ass man.
“Mr. Collier?” Rae said, and he turned around, begrudgingly so.
“Yeah?”
“I just called Manuela. Left a voicemail.”
“Okay, keep trying,” he said, then sat on his chair, and she took the cue, and left, leaving the door half-opened behind her.
God, he’d missed Manuela. Yes, she was young and about Rae’s age, but she’d worked with him for a year, and she’d learned a lot. She knew his moods, she was proactive, and seldom made mistakes. She was the most perfect relationship he’d ever had with a female—because it was all business.
Sure, she was attractive, but he’d never looked at her that way. He couldn’t—not when he’d enforced a no-dating policy between employees in his office. He didn’t want any of his agents distracted, and taking it out on each other, or worse, damaging the name of his realty group.
He was the face of Collier Realty. If he got involved with an employee, he’d tarnish his pristine reputation. And for what?
There were plenty of women in the world. Like that sexy brunette. Did she walk into the building?
A knock on the door made him raise his gaze from his laptop to the woman standing next to the door.
