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1178 Words
THE MAN I ALREADY HATED
By nine the next morning, I had convinced myself that the message from the night before didn’t matter.
It was easier that way.
I had spent years learning how to put things I couldn’t control into boxes and lock them away. My past belonged in one of those boxes. Whatever had happened to my family was something I had learned to live with, even if I couldn’t remember all of it.
The anonymous message had only managed to shake the lock.
I wasn’t going to let it break.
Besides, I had more important things to worry about.
Grayson Cole Blackwell.
I sat in the back of my car, reading his company profile for the third time while Manhattan blurred past the tinted windows.
Twenty-seven.
CEO of Blackwell Holdings.
Real-estate mogul.
Known for buying properties other companies couldn’t touch and turning them into billion-dollar developments.
There were very few photographs of him online, which I found mildly irritating. The ones I had seen showed a man who looked permanently unimpressed with the world.
I closed the file.
He already annoyed me.
We hadn’t even met.
My driver pulled up in front of Blackwell Holdings a few minutes later.
I stepped out, adjusted my jacket and walked inside.
The receptionist took one look at me before standing.
“Miss Smith. Mr. Blackwell is expecting you.”
“Good.”
She gestured toward the elevators.
I didn’t thank her.
Not because I was rude.
I simply didn’t believe in unnecessary words.
The elevator opened on the top floor.
A man in a dark suit was waiting for me.
“Mr. Blackwell is ready for you.”
I followed him through the hallway.
The office doors opened.
And then I saw him.
Grayson Blackwell stood beside the windows with his back toward me, one hand resting in his trouser pocket.
He turned slowly.
My first thought was that the photographs had done him absolutely no justice.
My second was that I disliked him immediately.
He was tall, broad-shouldered and annoyingly attractive in the kind of effortless way that probably made women forgive him for things they shouldn’t.
His eyes settled on me.
There was no surprise in them.
No nervousness.
Just quiet assessment.
I hated being looked at like a business decision.
“You’re late,” he said.
I glanced at the clock.
“I arrived three minutes early.”
He looked at his watch.
“Then my clock is faster.”
“Or you’re simply bad at telling time.”
Something flickered in his eyes.
Amusement.
Interesting.
He gestured toward the chair opposite his desk.
“Sit.”
I remained standing.
His eyebrow lifted.
“I prefer standing.”
“Why?”
“I’m less likely to stay longer than necessary.”
His mouth curved.
Not quite a smile.
“Then we’re going to get along wonderfully.”
“I doubt that.”
He walked behind his desk and sat.
I placed the property proposal in front of him.
“I’ll make this simple. VELLORA wants the Manhattan property. I’ve brought an offer that’s significantly above its current market value.”
He didn’t even open the file.
“No.”
I stared at him.
“You haven’t looked at the offer.”
“I don’t need to.”
“You rejected it without reading it?”
“I rejected the idea of selling the property.”
I slowly sat down.
“Then what exactly are we doing here?”
“You asked for a meeting.”
“And you agreed.”
“I was curious.”
“About what?”
He looked directly at me.
“You.”
I paused.
That wasn’t the answer I expected.
“I’m afraid you’ll have to be more specific.”
“I’ve heard a lot about you.”
“Most of it is probably exaggerated.”
“I doubt that.”
His gaze moved briefly over my face before returning to my eyes.
“You’re twenty-six. You built VELLORA from nothing. You’ve expanded into five countries and managed to convince people twice your age that you’re smarter than they are.”
“I didn’t convince them.”
“No?”
“They figured it out eventually.”
That smile appeared again.
I hated that I noticed it.
“You’re confident.”
“I’m accurate.”
He leaned back in his chair.
“I like that.”
“I didn’t come here for your approval.”
“I know.”
“Good.”
Silence settled between us.
It wasn’t uncomfortable.
That was the problem.
There was something strange about sitting across from him. I couldn’t explain it, but the way he watched me made me feel as though he was trying to remember something.
Then his eyes narrowed slightly.
“Have we met before?”
My heart skipped.
I didn’t know why.
“No.”
He continued looking at me.
“You’re sure?”
“Very.”
Something in his expression changed.
“Interesting.”
I frowned.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
I hated that answer.
He opened the property file at last.
“The property isn’t for sale.”
“I’ll increase the offer.”
“No.”
“Ten percent.”
“No.”
“Twenty.”
“No.”
“Thirty.”
He looked up.
“Do you always think throwing money at a problem makes it disappear?”
“No.”
I leaned forward.
“I think people have prices. I just haven’t found yours yet.”
His eyes darkened.
For a second, neither of us moved.
Then he smiled.
“You’re dangerous.”
“So I’ve been told.”
“I believe it.”
I stood.
“Then we’re done.”
I reached for the file.
His hand covered it before I could pick it up.
My eyes dropped to his fingers.
Then slowly lifted to his face.
“Let go.”
He didn’t.
“You’re coming back.”
“I don’t think so.”
“You need this property.”
“I’ll find another.”
“There isn’t another one like it.”
“I’ll build something better.”
His smile returned.
“I’d expect nothing less.”
He finally released the file.
I turned toward the door.
“Christa.”
I stopped.
It was the first time he’d said my name.
Something about the way it sounded in his voice sent an unfamiliar shiver through me.
I turned around.
“What?”
His expression was unreadable.
“Next time, don’t come here prepared to lose.”
I smiled.
It was the first genuine smile I’d given him.
“Mr. Blackwell, I don’t come anywhere prepared to lose.”
I walked out before he could respond.
But as the elevator doors closed, I caught my reflection in the mirrored wall.
My face was calm.
My posture was perfect.
Yet my heart was beating far faster than it should have been.
I pressed my fingers against my wrist.
Ridiculous.
He was arrogant.
Infuriating.
Completely impossible.
And unfortunately…
the most interesting man I’d met in years.
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