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Dad always taught me to be on time when that’s a basic courtesy everyone deserves, but maybe I should have been more than five minutes early.
Did she expect me to arrive earlier?
“Hi,” I say quickly before I can overthink myself into paralysis. I give a quick wave and tuck my hands behind my back. “I’m Destiny Lancaster. Nice to meet you, Miss Cho.”
“Thank you for being on time. That’s always useful here at Home Shepherd.”
“Of course.”
Of course it is. What kind of tantrum does Foster throw when people show up late?
She gestures down the wide corridor. “This way. Mr. Foster is—he will see you now.”
I stop in shock. “Wait. I’m... I’m meeting Mr. Foster today?”
“Those were the terms of the program, yes. I regret that it’s taken this long with his travel schedule. However, he’s had a few meetings out of town this past week.”
“Yes, but...” I don’t have an adequate answer.
I wasn’t expecting him to ever stop ghosting medoesn’t seem like the right tone.
So I settle for a pained smile.
“That’s fine,” I lie. “Lead the way.”
She says nothing else as she leads me to the executive office.
No surprise, it’s an enormous, intimidating space with a giant, forbidding man at the center like he’s the focal point of the entire universe.
He stands against the window, radiating pure arrogance, looking out across the morning day like he owns it.
The sunlight seeping past the clouds casts him in shadow, true evil villain style.
First impression?
I have a sense of imposing height stuffed inside a black suit, impeccably tailored with subtle grey pinstripes and understated gold cuff links.
Understated.
Classy, yes—but not in the cold, soulless way of his office.
So, there might be a hint of taste in there somewhere, and a man who understands that great wealth doesn’t need to be ostentatious.
Then he goes and ruins my first impression.
He turns, sees me, and scowls.
Second impression?
Holy shit.
This can’t be real.
It can’t be him.
The walking asshat from Alki Beach looks just as big facing me as he did facing away, with a gloriously chiseled face that would be a whole lot more appealing if he wasn’t glowering like I just spat in his coffee.
His jet-black hair and blue eyes are so familiar it stops my heart. So does that glare.
