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“Yes, Bossman?”
He smirked. They were more friends than boss and employee.
“I need you to do some research for me.”
“Hang on, let me find something to write with. Where are you, anyway?”
“In the car.”
“On the way home?” Sebastian asked, sounding surprised.
“Yes.”
“I’m shocked. I can’t believe Stella passed on the opportunity to sink her claws into you.”
“She didn’t. I was the one who passed. Do you have a pen?”
“Yes, I’m ready.”
“Call around and see what you can find out about Hilderbrandt Enterprises. Are they really in financial trouble, and how bad is their situation? Be discreet.”
“Not a problem.”
“And find out what you can about all of Anna’s lovers and boyfriends in the past five years.”
Temporary silence.
“Er, what for? What do you plan to do with the information?” Sebastian finally asked.
“I want to know exactly how desperate my ex-wife is, if indeed there is anyone else she’s considering for the role of husband. I need all this information by Monday.”
“Yes, sir.”
They both hung up, and Dante rubbed his thumbnail along his lower lip. If there was no one else in the running, then he was in a much better position than expected. Information equaled power, and power would give him the upper hand when negotiating with his future wife.
5
You have a visitor. Dante Escarra is here to see you.
Annabelle’s executive assistant had made that announcement five minutes ago, but she wasn’t ready, pretending to be preoccupied while she girded her loins for the encounter with Dante.
She straightened her black sleeveless dress, which cinched at the waist and ruched at her hips. She checked her face in her compact. Her lips looked luscious in maroon lipstick, and her makeup was perfect. Calming an errant tendril of hair, she fixed a cool smile on her face. Her personal armor.
Stay positive, she thought.
Almost a week had passed since she walked into Dante’s office. She’d been convinced his lack of communication was his way of letting her know he wasnotinterested, but if he wasn’t interested in her offer, he would have ignored her or communicated in a different way. His presence was a good sign. She hoped.
“Send him in.”
Annabelle sat down and rested her arms on the rests of the leather executive chair as if she didn’t have a care in the world, though her insides quivered with anticipation.
Dante strolled in, and to her chagrin, her breath caught. My goodness he was handsome, with almost-black brooding eyes and a hard, square jaw with angles sharp enough to cut marble.
His hair was cut close to his head, hiding the wavy pattern that appeared if he went too long between haircuts. Today he wore a black fitted jacket and white dress shirt unbuttoned at the top, silky black hairs peeking from beneath the cuffs. He didn’t like ties. She’d practically had to beg him to wear one to their wedding ceremony the first time they married.
No one would ever know he was worth billions because he rarely wore three-piece suits, though the fine tailoring on his jacket and slacks indicated quality fabrics. He also didn’t flaunt his wealth like many new money people did. He lived a surprisingly modest lifestyle, though she’d heard his home in Houston’s prestigious River Oaks community had been decorated by one of the top interior designers in the country and looked spectacular inside and out.
“Ever heard of an appointment?” Annabelle asked by way of greeting.
