“Hello?”
“Rosenna, darling, how are you?”I heard Vincent’s voice on the other line and my eyes widened.
“I’m great, Vincent. Yourself?” I asked, smiling.
“I’m doing all right. I was actually going to call Kira first, but I thought I’d give you a buzz instead.”
I wasn’t particularly concerned with how he got my phone number in the first place. Obviously, billionaires had their ways.
“I wanted to invite you and your husband to dinner. One of my charity organizations is hosting, and I thought I’d extend an invite to the only woman alive that can tolerate my son as her client.”He chuckled.
I hesitated. Dinner? With Vincent, my husband… and Beckham?
“Thank you for the invitation, Mr. Garcia… I’d have to talk to Gavin to see how his schedule is—”
“Ah, ah, ah, Rosenna.”Vincent’s tone sharpened.“Yes, this call was an invitation, but I did not ask for you to be there. I expect you to be there. If your husband is busy or has his reservations, he doesn’t need to come, but you, my darling, are to be there with Kira as well. There are some people I’d like to introduce you to, and I simply would be devastated if you didn’t show.”
I sighed. I couldn’t exactly say no to one of the most powerful and wealthiest men I knew. If anything, the call had finished the second he asked me to go. There was no negotiation.
“I will be there, Mr. Garcia,” I said with a small smile.
He responded gleefully, satisfaction in his tone:“Excellent. My assistant will send the details to Kira.”
The call ended, and I placed my phone on the table.
Things felt too good to be true.
Mr. Garcia was really inviting us to one of his events. I almost couldn’t believe it.
I could kiss Kira for how hard she worked to get him in contact with us.
Him and the man who couldn’t stay out of my thoughts could potentially change our lives for the better.
Gavin
“What’s the status this evening, gentlemen?” I asked my colleagues as I entered the conference room, going over a contract that had to be reviewed soon.
“Where’ve you been, Johnson?” Walter, old, slow, and twice divorced, said out of his ass.
I rolled my eyes, setting the file down as I took my seat at the head of the table. “Busy.”
Ethan, our suck-up newbie intern, was standing by the projector, already clicking through the slides.At least he knew how to get to the point.
“First, we have a new case coming in soon. Client is purchasing a commercial property and needs us to handle the contract negotiations.”
We listened as he commanded the room even if it was only twenty minutes.
This is what our mornings consisted of: going over different cases for the different sections of law we practiced at the firm: business, finance, real estate, litigation. The hours were long, but our pockets were fucking deep—almost as deep as the influence that the firm was getting through the growing list of widespread connections and contacts.
After another hour or so of discussing, I dismissed the room as I put away some of the documents I’d opened. Brent came over to me, and I glanced at the door as the last person stepped out.
“Brent,” I muttered.
He crossed his arms. “Gavin, your wife made the news.”
I looked over at him in disbelief. “She made the what?”
He handed me his phone, open to a news headline.Vincent Garcia’s Son Expected to Debut His Art for the First Time Ever.
