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“That’s true.” He pockets his phone. “But you’ve got a lifetime of experience behind you.”
He’s right. I do. I use it on a daily basis at work and in my personal life.
I plan on using some of it to convince Miss Marks that I’m worth her time.
Chapter 10
Bianca
My time spent with Maren yesterday afternoon was exactly what I needed. We ate the salad she prepared, and shared a bottle of sparkling apple juice, and then we dove into painting a stencil design on the nursery wall.
By the time Keats came home from work at eight p.m., the final touches of the nursery were complete.
Maren and her husband shared a special moment as they stood in the middle of the room and took it all in. My heart bloomed with happiness for them.
Maren hasn’t had it easy the past few years, so to see the smile on her face brought me comfort.
I did stroll by Rolly’s Pub on my way home even though I knew Roman wouldn’t be inside. I may have missed my chance with him, but after what I went through with Kieran, a self-imposed time-out from cocky men is just what I need.
Kieran and I slept together for the first time on our second date.
I wouldn’t call it a mistake, but his arrogance is what lured me to his bed.
That kind of intensity is not what I need right now.
My plate is full with work.
“Bianca!” John calls to me from where he’s standing outside his office. “Can I get a minute with you?”
I dart to my feet. The bottom hem of the red skirt I’m wearing sways just above my knees. I run a fingertip over the buttons on the front of my white blouse to make sure everything is in place.
“You’re about to get good news,” Paige attempts to whisper from her desk. “The project in Tribeca is back on track.”
My mouth drops open. “What?”
“You killed it at that meeting on Monday afternoon, Bianca.” She points a finger toward John’s office door. “I heard him on a call before you came in this morning. He said you lit a fire under the contractor.”
I subtly threatened the man with a reminder that he still hadn’t secured his place on an upcoming project we have planned in Brooklyn.
Being Thurston Marks’s stepdaughter does have its perks, including learning negotiating skills from one of the best.
I set off toward John’s office feeling proud of myself.
This is what happens when the stars align, and I focus on work. I accomplished something that my boss wasn’t able to.
“Bianca!”
I stop mid-step when I hear another man’s voice calling my name. I turn slowly because there is no way in hell that it’s the man I think it is.
Except it is.
Standing near the elevator, with a bouquet of pink daisies in his hand, is the one person I didn’t expect to see at my office. Ever.
Roman Hawthorne, dressed sharply in a three-piece navy blue suit, smiles at me. “Hello again, Miss Marks.”
***
I stand near the top-hatted mannequin in John’s office and watch as he tries to interest Roman in one of his latest projects.
I’m not surprised.
Anyone who enters John’s orbit dressed in anything designer becomes a potential investor in his eyes.
I gaze down at the pink daisies in Roman’s hand.
They’re beautiful.
Daisies have been my favorite flowers for as long as I can remember. It’s likely because they would grow wild in bunches in a park across the street from the apartment building my family lived in when I was a child.
When I glance up, Roman’s gaze is pinned to me even though he’s speaking to John. “It’s something I’d consider after thorough research, of course. For now, I need a moment alone with Bianca.”
The slight promise from Roman that he’d even consider investing in the residential tower that John has been planning in Long Island City for the past twenty years is enough to placate my boss.
“I’ll see myself out.” He bows to Roman before he heads toward the door of his office. “You two take as much time as you need.”
“We’ll be quick,” I say.
“Or not,” Roman adds.
I give my head a shake as John scurries out, shutting the door behind him.
I turn to Roman. “What are you doing here?”
He pushes the bouquet toward me. “I wanted to see you, Bianca, and I thought these might brighten your day.”
I reach for the flowers. “Thank you, but how did you find me? I didn’t tell you where I work.”
“It wasn’t that hard to figure out,” he says, studying my face.
“It wasn’t?” I cock a brow.
“It’s not as though I’m a stalker. I’m a man who is curious about a beautiful woman.”
“Is there a difference?” I glance down at the daisies. “You looked me up online.”
“Something like that,” he admits. “Just as you looked me up.”
If we’re keeping score, he’s ahead of me by a few points. I saw where his office was located when I first searched for details about him.
