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Chapter One
Willow Cavanaugh entered the property management office at precisely five minutes before the scheduled meeting time. The receptionist who greeted her led the way to a small, empty conference room, encouraging Willow to have a seat, make herself comfortable, and did she want anything to drink while she waited?
Considering she might barf from even a few sips of water, she was so nervous, Willow offered a polite no thank you and a smile, watching the very young, extremely chirpy receptionist bounce out of the room.
The moment the receptionist shut the door behind her, Willow collapsed in a chair, placing her sleek black leather portfolio on the table in front of her. She was a wreck. She’d hardly slept last night, no thanks to her worry over today’s meeting. How much her life could change if things actually went her way…
This appointment could be the most important of her career. Of her entire life. She’d finally found the dream location for her catering business: a storefront with tiny rooms she could use to consult with clients and a large room in the back of the building where she could create and package all of her product.
The location was prime. The size of the space—perfect. And the cost of the lease was pretty close to ideal. She couldn’t afford to let this location get away from her. There was nothing else on the market that fit her needs more perfectly than this building.
She was running out of room at her little house—her business was growing so fast she could hardly keep up. Five years ago, she’d been drifting, wondering what the heck she was doing with her life. Never could she have imagined creating a variety of both artificial and organic flavors of cotton candy and making them available for birthday parties, wedding and baby showers, graduation parties, and just for fun with her friends could turn into something so much bigger than she’d ever hoped. Not to mention her cotton candy cocktails, which were becoming a major hit at bachelorette parties.
Now she was booked months in advance with a variety of parties. She turned people away and had wait lists, which blew her mind. She needed more space, more employees, more…
Everything.
Tapping her foot against the floor, she checked her phone and saw that it was one minute past the scheduled time. She hated being late. Sorta hated those who were late even more. There was nothing worse. She flat out didn’t have the patience for being kept waiting. Had little patience for anything lately, really.
Including a certain man who drove her insane. Why did everything have to circle back to him?
Damn Nick Hamilton and his charming, no-good ways. Her former lover and, if she were being honest, the first real love of her life always knew how to barge right back into her life and mess with her head.
Six years ago, for a few blissful months, the summer he’d been in training before he started as a tight end with the San Jose Hawks football team, they’d had a momentous, life-changing affair. She’d fallen madly in love with him. And he’d left her in his dust—a hard, painful life lesson that still hurt every time she saw him.
God, she’d had her hands all over him that night at the restaurant with the team, when she’d been there as a sort of wing-woman for Sheridan after she married the Hawks’ quarterback, Jared Quinn. One look at Nick and she’d wanted him. He’d dragged her outside and next thing she knew, she’d been in his arms. His mouth on hers, how he kissed her…her stomach fluttered just thinking about it. That he could still work her up into a complete frenzy with only a few words, a touch, and a kiss infuriated her. She should hate his guts forever for how easily he made her want him.
But she didn’t. More like she feared if he walked into the room at this very moment and demanded she give him a blowjob with that dangerously sexy smile of his, she’d probably do it, no questions asked.
Clearly, her last encounter—hell, all of her encounters—with Nick left her thinking like an idiot.
Nick Hamilton was bad for her. Unhealthy. An addiction.
She’d really not even thought of Nick for years. Fine, the Hawks came to the Monterey area for their summer training, but she never saw him around. But then Sheridan had to go and marry Jared, throwing Willow right back into Nick’s path.
He’d been hotly pursuing her ever since.
The door swung open, and a man appeared, dressed in khakis and a white button-up shirt, his wheat-colored hair buzzed short. She automatically stood when he came at her with his hand out.
“Sorry to keep you waiting, Miss Cavanaugh. I’m Frank Benson.” He gave her hand a hearty shake before he sat across from her at the table.
She settled in her chair and offered him a pleasant smile. This was the property management representative who she’d made the appointment with, but she’d been told the owner of the property would be in attendance as well. “Is the owner coming?”
“Absolutely.” Frank nodded, opening and glancing over the manila folder he’d brought in with him. “He just called and said he’d be here in ten minutes.”
Fuming quietly, she pasted on her best fake smile. Didn’t they realize her career was on the line here? Her future depended on this new location. She couldn’t expand if she didn’t have the space, and she couldn’t afford any other space. “Perhaps we could start the meeting without him?”
Frank flicked his gaze up to meet hers. “Of course. I could answer any questions you may have in regards to the property, though regarding any f
inancial dealings, the owner stated specifically he wanted to be here before we get to those discussions.”
Right. Those discussions. Problem? The lease amount was still a bit high for her rather limited budget, though still cheaper than what she’d looked at in the recent past. The location was perfect, the biggest selling point in her eyes. And she refused to ask her dad for help. Walter Cavanaugh was a successful sports attorney who represented many famous athletes, including plenty of Hawks players. He had more money than he knew what to do with, and he always stressed how much he wanted to help her.
But there would be no more “loans” from Daddy. She needed to do this on her own.
She’d hoped to knock the owner down a bit, even as little as a few hundred a month, though she preferred more, especially since the location had sat empty for a while. She’d done her research, gathering every piece of information she could about the building. The only bit of info she couldn’t figure out was who the owner could be.
A secret investor had been brought in well over a year ago to fund and refurbish the entire shopping center. The location she wanted had an interior structure that wasn’t what the average business owner was looking for. In her eyes, it was ideal. Perfect. A wedding and event planner’s office was located in the same shopping center. A bakery that specialized in wedding cakes was across the street, right next to the bridal gown and accessory store. It was like the four corners of wedding central. She needed to be in this location just to increase business.
Yet she couldn’t quite afford it.
Letting her smile grow, she adjusted her thick, black-framed glasses. She wore them when she worked, when she wanted to be taken seriously. There was no getting around it—people took one look at her face and judged her. Too pretty, too spoiled, too…everything.
Fine. She was pretty. She had been destined to be from the moment she was born—her mother had been a beauty-queen-slash-supermodel. Her father had exquisite taste. All of his ex-wives were gorgeous.
Sometimes Willow’s pretty face got her nothing but trouble, so she downplayed the looks. She didn’t want to intimidate men and make women hate her.
“I have no problem waiting for the owner before we discuss the financials, but I would like to know a few more details.” She opened her portfolio, thumbing through the lists she’d scribbled on a notepad when the door cracked open and the receptionist stepped into the room, all flushed cheeks and dreamy-eyed.
“Sorry to interrupt, but the owner has arrived.” Giggling, the receptionist stepped aside…
And the very bane of Willow’s existence strode into the room, looking as if he hadn’t a care in the world.
Horror rendered her still for one infinite moment. She stared at him, saw the smug smile on his face, and her fist instantly curled. If she had the balls to slug him, she would.
“What the hell are you doing here?” Willow snapped the moment the receptionist shut the door.
“Uhhh,” Frank mumbled but she ignored him. Her eyes were focused on stupid, irritating Nick Hamilton standing there, larger than life, gorgeous as all get out, clad in jeans and an untucked black button-up shirt, sleeves rolled to reveal those strong, sexy forearms that shouldn’t do a thing for her.
Nope, not a damn thing.
“Well, I’m a little late but not enough to have you cursin’ at me.” He smiled, revealing straight, white teeth. The tingles that swept over her at the sight of his irritating-as-hell smile irritated her further. “I’m here for my appointment. With you.”
