AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Ms. York has expressed interest in a patterned glass for the front of her house - more of a showcase, instead of strictly for security. But she does like the fact that she can get that privacy and no loss of light.”
“Yes,” I answered automatically.
Blake shot a look at me.
“We’ve been experimenting with artistic avenues as well.”
Donovan’s eyebrow went up and a small smile softened his angular features. “Excellent. I’ll have Ms. York’s architect set something up.”
“Thank you, Mr. Lewis,” I said when Mr. Carson continued to stare death rays into the back of my head. “If you need anything, your assistant can contact me.”
Mr. Carson came up beside me at the end of his desk. “We appreciate your business, Donovan.” His voice resonated through my bones, leaving a shiver in its wake.
“You have a good staff, Blake. Jack Hollister has been in contact with me for some follow-up visits to make sure the security is sound. I appreciate that level of attention, especially from you. I won’t forget it.”
I frowned. Especially from Mr. Carson, why? My boss didn’t seem like he normally took shortcuts.
Mr. Carson’s fingers curled around the thick glass of his desk. The side of his hand brushed mine, and I fought to stop the blissful teenage flutters from filling up my chest. “I’ll check in next week.”
“Perfect.” Donovan nodded, and the screen went blank.
Blake took a step forward and then turned to stand in front of me. “You overstepped, Ms. Copeland. We aren’t set up for that kind of work. Mass-produced glass cut-to-size is one thing, but aesthetics are a whole different kind of work. The profit margin—”
I swallowed. “I saw that clock. It might not be as easy to do the beveled and the cuttings, but the design is worth it.”
“Oh, and you know all about profit and loss?”
I stood taller. “No, but I know about the wealthy people who spend ridiculous amounts of money on the beautiful. I know you checked me out. I’ve worked in a gallery most of my life, and the amount of money people will spend on the pretty far outweighs what they will on security.”
“I think I know my business.”
“I don’t think you do.” I wanted to snatch my words back. I didn’t know crap about business. Not really. I knew enough to get by, and sooner or later, Mr. Carson would probably figure out that I was full of shit, but right now, I knew I was right.
He tilted his head, and the arctic was back in his eyes. “Is that right?”
“What’s your poison, Mr. Carson?” At his frown, I hurried on. “When you made your first million, what did you spend your money on? A car? A house? A rare album?”
“My first house,” he said tightly.
“And that first house, did you do anything extravagant? Something you’ve always wanted?”
The muscle in his jaw jumped, and he still loomed over me. Still so very close. He was citrusy today. Fresh enough that I wanted to step into him and put my nose into the center of his chest and see if he was as warm and delicious as I thought he’d be.
“That clock that’s in your showroom.” Suddenly, I knew. “That’s in your house.”
His no
strils flared, and I knew I was right.
“That’s what people want.” My heartbeat thundered behind my eyes and tried to leap out of my chest, but I rushed on. “Your name is already synonymous with distinction and beauty within the security circles. Add in the art side, and it would push your company over the top. I understand people with money, but more importantly, I know they want status above all else.”
“There’s no security in art.” He stepped back and walked out of the office without another word.
I slumped back against his desk. Then, because I knew he couldn’t see me, I leaned over to take a breath. Holy crap. What the hell was I thinking? This really wasn’t my job. I was supposed to be ingratiating myself so he’d be more inclined to talk to me about the house. This was not going to help my case in any way.
I straightened up and looked out to the main area where my desk was. Blake was talking to Jack, and his hands were in his hair. God, I could see everything from this vantage point. The entire office was on display and my desk—that was the focus.
Was that so he had absolute control to micromanage his little kingdom, or was it more? He hadn’t come out to talk to me all damn day until Jack had come to my desk with food.
