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Part One
Chapter 1
Leland
Scanning a room for the man who’d piqued my curiosity wasn’t easy while also balancing a tray of champagne filled flutes. Moving through the office space overlooking downtown Seattle, I did my best to smile as rich men in pricey suits measured their dicks. I tried to maintain a professional attitude, and do the job I’d been hired for, but what I really wanted to do was dump the contents of my tray over their three-figure haircuts and go hunt down the man I’d been low-key watching all night. The man everyone had either been watching or trying to get a piece of since he’d arrived.
Something cold hit my black dress shirt, soaking through the thin material and raising a hiss from me. “What a waste,” a belligerent man said forlornly, holding an empty flute by its stem. The spilled bubbly quickly worked its way to my belt buckle. He grabbed another from my extended tray and stumbled away without so much as an apology.
I ground my teeth together and reminded myself that I needed the money from this gig to cover my half of the rent.
A tall, broad form moved past the reception area, exiting through the glass doors embossed with the Nexcom Global emblem, and suddenly all thoughts of toppled drinks and pretentious assholes were forgotten.
He bypassed the bank of elevators for the stairwell, and something told me he didn’t decide he was in the mood to hike it down from the top floor of one of the tallest skyscrapers in the city. No, my gut instincts said he was going up.
Moving as fast as I could through the dense crowd of party-going pricks, I made it to the kitchen area sectioned off for the wait staff without another champagne shower or losing a toe under someone’s expensive heel.
“Deb,” I whispered urgently, hurrying over to where my best friend’s sister sat texting on her phone. “I’m taking a break. I need you to cover for me.” I rested my tray on the table, using the bar napkins stacked on it to pat my wet shirt.
“No way,” she scoffed. “Mybreak isn’t even over yet.”
“You owe me,” I said, pointing to the name tag pinned to my shirt. Deb had gotten me the job last minute after someone else flaked on it. Even went as far as having the name tag filled out and waiting for me when I’d rushed off the service elevator with less than three seconds to spare.
I didn’t understand why the catering company required us to wear them. In rooms like these, we were all called one of two names: hey and you. My favorite, though, was when they simply snapped their fingers to get our attention.
“Yeah, I kinda do owe you,” she said, pretty proud of her handiwork. “But I’m on hors d’oeuvres duty tonight, not drinks.”
“No one will notice,” I said, jetting off before she could reply.
There were two groups of people in Seattle: The calendar people, who clung strongly to their belief that we had four seasons, and those who believed we only had two—wet and dry. After living here all my life and experiencing midnight summers in the park that damn near required a goose-down jacket, and times where we had up to twenty straight days of rain, I was part of the wet and dry crew. So I was smart enough to know I needed a jacket before heading to the roof, but not smart enough to ride down to my car to get one. The wind bit into me immediately.
“You’re the young man who’s been watching me all night.”
Distracted by ensuring the empty bottle holding the door ajar was secure after I’d stepped onto the roof, I hadn’t noticed Mr. Dark and Broody until I was hit with his curtness from somewhere to my left.
“Shit, you scared the crap out of me,” I said, trying to catch my breath. I made a quick mental note:Work on improving your stealth skills.
This man intimidated people without even trying. I’d witnessed it downstairs, but even those who trembled in his presence wanted to be within his orbit. He was obviously someone important. He exuded too much power not to be, and that power was intoxicating. It had been what initially caught my attention.
Powerful and intimidating weren’t the attributes that made him interesting to me, though. Beyond the authority and mystery lurked something familiar, something that kept my eyes glued to him all night. Because what could a man who seemingly had everything, have in common with someone who had nothing? I had to find out.
“Leelee Bear,” he said, his eyes narrowing on my name tag.
I’m gonna kill Deb.
I unclipped it, slipping it into my trouser pocket. “That was someone’s idea of a cruel joke. I’m Leland.”
He raised his narrowed stare to my face, his onyx eyes piercing and hot, providing warmth in the cold.Fuck, he’s intense.
“This is usually the part where you offer me your name,” I said, surprised my balls hadn’t shriveled up under his scrutiny.
“You don’t already know who I am?” he asked doubtfully, the chilly breeze ruffling the top of his jet-black hair. The patches of salt and pepper scruff riding his jawline shone white under the gleam of the moonlight.
I shrugged. “Why would I? I was told where to show up and when. Other than the check clearing, nothing else mattered.”
His eyes hardened; a tough feat considering they were already as resistant as stone. I waited out whatever battle he faced internally, meeting the fire in those polished orbs, hoping my unflinching response conveyed honesty.
“Franky,” he said, some of the tension around his jaw easing. “Franky,” he repeated, as if trying the name on for size and realizing it not only fit, but that he liked it. It oddly felt like he’d given me more than a name. It felt like he’d given me a taste of his vulnerability without even realizing it. It didn’t taste half bad.
