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My smirk mirrors hers, enhancing the mischief in her gaze. “Baking and blind dates… I should have known you were up to something.”
She offers me the rest of her muffin before leaning against the doorframe and crossing her arms. “There’s no reason a handsome man with biceps like those should be single.” Mr. Carter perks up from his garden next door, sweat beading at his snow-white brow when he glances our way. “Isn’t that right, Charles?”
“That’s right, Ida,” he agrees, but I think his enthusiasm has less to do with my physique and more to do with his infatuation with Miss Ida May.
Parked in the circle drive of her complex, my driver, Javier, waits patiently beside the blacked-out Escalade my father had custom made for me. I nod at him, and then turn back to Ida. “I’ll check on you in a few days, okay?”
“Don’t you worry about me. Take care of yourself, baby.”
“I always worry about you. You get into trouble when I stay gone too long.” I arch a brow, recalling the time she pranked the complex with an army of plastic garden flamingos.
Ida’s laugh weaves its way around my heart as she waves to Javier. “I’ll see you soon, then.”
I head down the porch steps, relishing the salty breeze rolling through my hair, wishing my father could comprehend the magic of this place.
Honey Hollow was the first property our luxury homes business opened outside of Tauntuma. With the harbor three hours from Elite Properties’ headquarters, the smaller complex started as a test project, allowing us to explore the surrounding communities and get a feel for whether we could make money in the area.
Six months later, its charm and welcoming community has been long-forgotten by my father, while becoming a hideaway for me.
“Morning, sir.” Javier steps aside, tone as judgy as the eyebrow he’s arching. “You’re late.”
I flick a parting glance at the massive sun mural on the far wall behind the courtyard and check the Rolex my father gifted me last month before settling into the backseat. “Yes, and I’m sure I’ll never hear the end of it.”
Through the installed window separating the front and back of the SUV, I catch his smirking reflection. “He may be… exuberant at times, but I trust Mr. Murphy can act professionally during an interview with a temp, sir.”
“You forget this is Declan we’re talking about.”
My best friend was adamant that I hire an assistant, but put him in the presence of a woman, and his professionalism falls dormant to his primitive need for sex.
Javier guides us away from Honey Hollow, through clusters of colorful coastal houses that branch off the main road leading back to Keerah, and I relax against the cool leather bench seat that matches the side across from me.
Seaside Avenue is the artery that feeds all the neighborhoods in Anchorage Harbor—most of which stretch out over the water like veins—but it’s the ocean-facing side of the strip, with miles of beach and crystalline waters interspersed by tall mountains, that makes the spot so eye-catching.
I watch those mountains glide by the window while I eat the rest of the muffin. The peaks are tall enough to touch the clouds, framing the waters surrounding the quiet harbor town, making for a stunning backdrop. Sure, the businesses and homes around here are a bit weatherworn—and Seaside itself could use some tender loving care—but it’s homey, comfortable, and best of all, my father hates it.
As we approach the building that houses the Summit Estates office, my phone buzzes in my palm.
Smoothing my fingers down my silk tie, I clear my throat and answer the call. “Dad, hey. How did the meeting go?”
“They’re going to agree to the contract, son. I can feel it in my bones,” he says as Javier rolls to a stop. He parks before walking around to let me out, and I face the twenty-story building, silently waving him off. “These investors will be eating out of the palm of my hand, and I’ve got you to thank for suggesting we clear that fifty-acre residential lot by Butterfly Cove. Once we do that, we’ll have plenty of space to expand.”
“Don’t thank me yet,” I say, though his rarely given approval inflates my pride. “We’ll celebrate if they decide to sign.”
“It’s not about if; it’s about when. If means we’ve given them an option.” In that cold, businessman tone of his, he adds, “And there is no option in this.”
“You’re right,” I amend quickly, loosening my tie half an inch on my way inside the building. “They’re going to say yes, and we’re going to turn the Cove into something extraordinary.”
“Now that’s more like it,” he says, and I can hear the same touch of amusement in his voice as when I was a child. When he wasn’t so strict, and we could laugh about the silly things I found exciting.
Only nothing about this contract is silly. I want our companies to create more than just luxurious homes. I want to unite people and create communities like the one I helped build in Honey Hollow.
I anxiously recheck my watch. Thank fuck there’s no way for him to know I’m fifteen minutes late, though I’m doing a pretty good job berating myself for him.
He ingrained the importance of holding a professional appearance in me long ago, and tardiness—no matter the reason—is unacceptable.
I cram down memories of the days when we used to argue as he continues, “One day, when you take over the company, you’ll know exactly how it feels to be on top. You’ll know what it’s like to best the ones who want to watch you fail, and well… it’s better than sex.”
I scoff as I press the button for the eighth floor. It’s been a minute since I’ve indulged, but somehow, I doubt that.
