I stopped in the doorway to the conference room, stunned to see Farrah already sitting at her computer desk. Today her curly hair was down, falling past her shoulders in little ringlets. A floral button-up shirt with loose sleeves flowing around her arms.

And the smell in the room… something like coffee and wildflowers.

It reminded me of home.

Which sent this strange mix of sadness and nostalgia spinning in my chest.

I cleared my throat, announcing my presence, and she quickly looked up from her computer, then stood, knocking her desk chair to the ground. I didn’t even know that was possible to do. “Oh, hi, good morning, I’m sorry, I’m such a mess.”

I stepped in, picking up the chair for her. I was only a foot away, her scent heavy on my senses as I said, “First rule of business. No apologizing. There are no mistakes, only learning opportunities.”

“Sorry, you’re right—I mean… Thanks?”

I cracked a smile, but only for a second. I went to my side of the table where my laptop was already set up and charging.

“I got you coffee,” Farrah said. “I’m not sure what you like, so I got black, then also a cortado and a frappuccino. I like all of them, except for black, so you’re free to two out of three.”

“That’s not your job,” I said, confused. Why on earth was she buying coffee for me? I could afford it.

She tilted her head, sending curls over her shoulder. “I like doing nice things for people… unless you’re allergic to milk, then I guess the cortado isn’t so kind.”

“I’ll take the cortado,” I said, uncomfortable for some reason with her thinking that I had lactose intolerance.

She passed a cup my way, and I spun it in search of the logo. “Barry’s?”

“It’s my parents’ coffee shop. Dad runs it, six to two every day except Sunday.”

I took a sip, relishing the hot liquid and its rich flavor. “It’s good.”

“I think it’s the best in Texas,” she gushed. “I practically grew up working there.”

When I didn’t reply, she said, “So I have some ideas for the en suite bathrooms I wanted to run past you.”

I raised my eyebrows. “Already?” She’d barely had an hour to work yesterday.

“Couldn’t get to sleep,” she said, brushing off my question. “Come look?”

I nodded, going to stand behind her. The wildflower scent was there again, and swear, it was more intoxicating than this coffee. Maybe I’d open a Barry’s in the hotel.

She had her screen open to a digital mock-up of the bathroom layout. As I scanned it over, she said, “You want it to be relaxing but not look like every other five-star hotel in the area, so we’re staying away from all white. We can’t do black either, because with kids, every spot will show. I recommend adding some color. A soft green is very soothing, but it will also go with a lot of neutrals as well.”

I tracked the design, my eyes landing on the focal piece. A large marble soaking tub. “I like the tub.”

“They’re great for kids,” she said. “I always get disappointed if I’m in a hotel without a bathtub, but this is a massive level up from a basic shower-tub combination.”

“Agreed. But marble’s a porous material. How does that work?”

“It’s actually called cultured marble—they mix limestone and resin, but it looks and feels identical.”

“Interesting.”

“Gold fixtures will blend well with the green backsplash. And shower tile shaped in half ovals will give the room some character. This gray tile job on the floor will be different enough from other hotels, but also easy to clean.”

“Great,” I said, unable to find any faults. She seemed to have thought it all through.

She gave some options for flooring, and when we landed on one, she said, “I’ll get to making it happen.”

“Good.” I nodded. I went back to the computer, able to think more clearly without her distractingly good aroma right under my nose.

“It’s like talking to my teenager,” she said with a small laugh.

I raised my eyebrows. “Excuse me?”

She lowered her voice to mimic mine. “Good. Agreed. Great. All I can get out of him is one-word answers.”

I hadn’t realized I’d been doing it. “My time is at a premium, Ms. Elkins.”

“I’m surprised you’d want to office with me then,” she replied. “Surely you’d be more efficient in your own space.” The little bite under her chipper words made me feel like a predator toying with my prey.

“I’m here because I can’t afford for you to mess this up.”

“You know that’s really not the best way to motivate a person, right?” She leaned forward, and it took all I had to draw my eyes away from her ample cleavage. I had to be more professional than this.

She was playing with fire. And so was I. My voice was delicate…dangerous. “Is that so?”

With a confident nod, she said, “If I talked to my five-year-old like that, she’d cry in a corner.”

“Good thing you’re a thirty-four-year-old woman instead of a five-year-old child.” I glanced down to my computer. Conversation over.

She huffed out a little sigh, then got up from her desk.

“Where are you going?” I demanded.

“I need to make a call and don’t want to disturb you.”

I gestured at the desk. “No need. I’d like to hear how you interact with professional contacts.”

Her eyebrows drew together, forming a little line above her nose. The first thought that came into my head was how cute she was.

What a terrible fucking thought.

I was a CEO of a billion-dollar business, which meant my time, my patience, for these kinds of thoughts, was zero. I put my head down, pretending to focus on my computer as she got out her new company cell phone and made a call.

But when the person answered, she did the strangest thing.

She started talking to them about their day.

Within two minutes of getting on the phone, they were chatting about dinner plans, and Farrah was reciting a recipe for a chicken noodle soup casserole they could put in the fridge and eat throughout the week.

My eyes had to be bulging out of my head. What on earth was happening? And why was she spending so much time not on business?

It took ten full minutes for them to finally circle back around to flooring.

“I really love the natural sand flooring you have for this massive project I’m working on, but I’m wondering if you have more options on site?”

She nodded, humming slightly, and I could only imagine if she had a phone cord, she’d be twirling it around her finger. “When could you send a contractor by?”

Her lips pursed, puckering in a way that sent a jolt straight to my stomach.

What the fuck was wrong with me?

And what the fuck was wrong with her? Couldn’t they have been done with this conversation by now?

Time was money, and from what I could tell, she had no problem spending it like crazy.

“And their timeline to completion on a twenty-thousand-foot property?”

She let out a sigh. “Come on, Mark, that’s so far out,” she said, a little pout in her voice. “My boss is such a hard-ass, and he’d never let me get away with that kind of a deadline…” She winked at me, then looked down at the table, nodding. “I know, I get it, I do. I just wanted you to get the commission, especially with your wife due soon. But if I have to go somewhere else, I guess I can. Man, that stinks….” Her lips slowly curled into a smile. “Are you sure?… That would be fantastic. I’ll see you here at five.”

She hung up and stuck out her hand for a high five.

I stared at it. “What was that?”

“That was me working magic.”

“It only took…” I glanced at my watch. “Forty-five minutes.”

She shook her head at me, lowering her hand, but that smile still played along her lips. “That forty-five minutes will save you countless headaches later on down the road and months off our timeline. This flooring company is the best in a two-hour radius. They’re always booked out at least a year in advance for projects like this, but they’re giving us rush treatment without the extra charge.”

“Why the hell would they do that?” I asked.

“Because his wife is about to deliver, and I just gave him an amazing recipe, plus the commission will give them a little extra cash while she’s at home not working.” She shrugged like it was no big deal. But it was a big deal.

People expected me to throw money around because I had it. But with the way she connected so naturally with people, she could be the ace up my sleeve. No matter how much I hated to admit it.

“Five o’clock?” I asked. “I have dinner reservations at six.”

“I’ll be here,” she said. “I can handle it while you’re at dinner.”

I raised my eyebrows. “The surly teenager and the sensitive five-year-old will be okay?”

She nodded. “But it’s anyone’s guess with the middle one. He’s a wild card.” Her smirk caught me off guard.

Pointing at me, she grinned. “Made you smile. Just a little bit.”

It took all I had not to roll my eyes. No one joked with me like this except for my siblings. “Get to work, Ms. Elkins. We still have a lot to do and only…” I glanced at my watch. “Six hours left to do it.”

* * *

“She made four calls all day, each one longer than the last,” I told my siblings and my new sister-in-law at dinner Thursday evening.

The five of us were at an exclusive restaurant on the west side of Dallas, halfway between my office and Cottonwood Falls, the small town where all my family lived. Paparazzi weren’t allowed inside this place, and no one who ate here would dream of leaking a photo. Politicians, actors, and famous athletes alike enjoyed having a private meal from time to time. And it was nice to take my siblings here without worrying about the media showcasing them. Even though we were grown, I still felt protective over them.

I was the oldest, then there was Tyler and his wife Henrietta, Rhett, and our sister Liv. A little under eight years separated the four of us.

After my rant about Farrah and her overly chatty demeanor, Rhett grinned, putting the results of years of braces on full display. “Is she single?”

Liv hit his shoulder, and Tyler groaned. I gave Henrietta, Tyler’s wife, an apologetic look. If she wasn’t used to Rhett by now, she would be soon.

“She’s single,” I said, “but she’s newly separated. The ink’s barely dried on the divorce paperwork.”

Rhett’s eyes lit up. “So she’s single and needing a rebound? You have to get on that.”

Liv took a piece of ice out of her cup and threw it at him. He easily caught it, popping it in his mouth.

“What?” he demanded. “You’re all alone at that hotel and—”

Even though I knew he was half joking, I shook my head at him. “You’re old enough to know business and pleasure don’t mix.”

Rhett waggled his eyebrows. “So you have been thinking about pleasure?”

“I think that’s just you,” I retorted before taking a sip from my scotch on the rocks. “And besides, even if I liked her and she liked me, I’d rather not be sued for sexual harassment.”

Tyler tapped his nose. He’d always been against dating people from work. “Gets messy real fast. Ask Hen.”

She nodded, a slight smile on her lips. “We’re lucky it ended well for us as a couple, but I know it doesn’t always.” They’d both lost their jobs over their relationship with each other, and it had caused a huge rift between them before they were able to make things work.

Liv said, “Besides, the power differential is kind of gross. I mean, is she really able to consent if she’s worried she’ll lose your job if she says no?”

“Bingo,” I said. “So can we talk about something else?” That woman had taken up far too many of my thoughts today, and I didn’t need her consuming my evening as well.

“Mom and Dad’s fortieth anniversary is coming up this year,” Liv said, the words like a punch to the gut. “I thought maybe we could throw them a party and then send them on that Alaskan cruise Dad’s been wanting to go on?”

Tyler nodded. “We can have the party at the Hen House in the common area.”

Hen leaned her cheek against Tyler’s shoulder. “That would be a lot of fun. Mrs. Bieker has said how much she misses baking for family gatherings, and I bet she could help out with the food.”

Tyler kissed her temple. “So thoughtful, babe.”

Her smile warmed the ice in my chest, at least a little. They were so happy together. My brother deserved a love like that.

Rhett said, “You know I can bring the beer.”

“Of course you can.” Liv rolled her eyes. “As long as you don’t break that cashier’s heart at the liquor store in the next six months.”

Rhett winked at me. “I don’t mix business and pleasure.”

I shook my head at him and put a few hundred-dollar bills on the table. “Dinner’s on me. I’ll cover the price of the cruise. Anonymously.”

“Gage…” Liv said softly. “You and Dad can’t take this feud to the grave.”

I tapped the spot on my bicep, a reminder of what I’d lost and the promise we siblings had made to each other. “He made it very clear he doesn’t like me and what I stand for. If that’s changed, he could ask to talk.”

“Maybe he needs you to make the first step,” Liv offered.

I put my wallet back in my pocket. “I don’t play losing games.”