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“So, I guess the coffee or water offer has been revoked,” I stated, knowing full well any opportunity to spend more time with her right then was over.
“Of course not. I’ll get Georgiana to get you whatever you’d like on your way out,” she said.
Mira stood up, and I did the same. She extended her hand for a handshake, and we shook. Mira had the hands of a woman who was used to hard work, not like my exes who spent more time in the spa than the law should allow. I loved the texture of her palm, and I let the handshake linger longer than it should.
Mission one had failed, so it was time to put plan B into action.
Chapter Three
Mira
I sighed heavily when Ward walked out of my office. Gosh, why did he have to look and smell so damn good! If he were ugly, pudgy, and smelled like a culvert, I would have been able to keep my emotions in check. I had to remind myself he wasn’t the first handsome man I’d ever worked with, nor the first to smell good. Admit it, girl, you like him, a voice whispered in my head.
“No, I don’t like him!” I replied. “Dear heart, remember we have sworn off men like Ward.”
Dear God, I’m not only talking to myself, I’m answering too.
I shook my head, remembering I was built tougher than this. I was born into a family of builders. I was the only girl, so from a young age, I knew what responsibility was. I had three older brothers who used to tease and bully me until one day when I decided to stand up to them, and they never bullied me again. My older brothers and I didn't become best friends, but we had mutual respect for each other.
I always expected people to do their best in whatever position they found themselves. Still, I felt the need to be in control of every part of my operation, no matter what came my way. Ward’s very existence threatened to not only steal my peace of mind but to get under my skin and control my every thought and emotion—two things I avoided like the plague. I said I’d never be owned by another man emotionally, and I meant that with all my heart. I had too much at stake.
My first boyfriend said I was too controlling and not submissive enough because I refused to let him walk all over me. The relationship lasted long enough for me to lose my virginity to him. The second relationship I got into was with a man who claimed he loved me, but he also wanted to control me. He would make negative comments about my hair and looks. After I spent an hour in the bathroom applying makeup and curling my hair, he would tell me my hair looked old fashioned, and the makeup made me look like a clown. It felt like his sole purpose in life was to make me feel like I wasn’t worth the ground I walked on. He never supported my dreams, and he didn't believe women ought to be in a position of power, especially in construction. According to him, women should be home, doing the laundry, and taking care of their family. I’d been in and out of relationships, and they were all nothing to write home about.
I liked to air my opinion, and I didn’t hide my thoughts. That drove men crazy. Many men have told me they couldn’t stand my truth, but I wouldn’t sell lies to anyone. I hadn't dated anyone for three years because my last relationship also ended badly.
Dale was an architect, so I thought I found a kindred soul, but even he said I was too ambitious. Yet he wanted me to sell my company so he could use the money to set up an architectural firm. I kicked him out of my life for good, and I have lived the single life since then. My DNA read strong, hard-working, and successful.
So why won’t you give your family a call?
My heart squeezed painfully as thoughts of my family flashed across my mind. I missed them a lot. Ward reminded me of my brothers, or what they used to be before I put them in their places. He was overbearing, a typical egotistical alpha male. He might’ve looked dreamily sexy and undeniably handsome, but I wouldn't touch him with a ten-foot-long pole.
My assistant, Georgiana, beeped me to let me know Tim, one of the architects, was at my door.
“Let him in,” I told her.
Seconds later, my door crept open, and Tim crossed the threshold.
"Good morning, ma'am," he said.
"Morning, Tim. What is the report on the park project presentation?"
"We have everything under control, Miss McBride," he replied and sucked in a deep breath. "My team has designed a mock-up of the amusement park, and we are ready for tomorrow's presentation."
"Why don't I have it on my desk already when you know I like to go through everything before we meet with the client?"
"I’m sorry, Miss McBride, but I sent it to your email this morning," Tim said and began to wring his hands together.
"Did you copy Georgiana so she could also have a copy of it?" I asked.
Tim shook his head. “No, I forgot to copy her.”
"Resend it immediately and copy her. I want her to have it on my desk in five minutes."
“Yes, ma'am,” Tim replied.
"You may leave," I said, starting to wonder how many times I would have to repeat the same rule before people who were paid enough to remember small details actually got it.
He turned around and headed for the door.
