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I looked through the floor-to-ceiling glass wall of my office to see who had buzzed for entrance. Derek Sawyer pushed open the gold wrought-iron security door and my stomach clenched. Nothing good would come of this.
I had three sales staff on the floor today, all women. They stumbled over each other to assist Derek. Sara, who’d worked for me since Oleander opened, knew better than to behave so unprofessionally. What if next week it was David Beckham or Jay-Z? I’d have to talk to them about this.
An objective voice buried somewhere in a dark corner of my mind didn’t blame them. Derek looked good. Handsome and rugged in a way the wealthy men who frequented Oleander often weren’t. His dark-washed jeans clung to his muscled thighs, and a soft gray polo shirt showed off his broad shoulders and thick arms and hinted at flat abs. He was sexy, over forty, and wasn’t wearing a wedding ring. Men like Derek were rarer than an internally flawless diamond.
The mirrored aviator glasses tucked in the collar of his shirt and easy smile presented an air of casualness I didn’t believe for a second. Not when the untucked hem of his shirt covered a holstered handgun. I made a mental note to call my security consultant. The staff was due for re-training on spotting concealed weapons. Anyone other than Derek and I’d already have my finger on the silent alarm.
Sara must have pulled rank. She shooed the other women back behind the counter and approached Derek, a smile on her pretty face, her overly friendly body language almost embarrassing. He shook her hand, holding it for a beat longer than was necessary.
I smothered a groan. He was on a mission. That charming smile was nothing but camouflage.
I folded away my newspaper and took a long, slow breath. I’d be damned if I went to him. He made it this far; I’d wait for him to walk the last thirty feet into the heart of my domain to make his accusations. I knew they were coming because Derek wasn’t an idiot.
Sara turned from Derek and fanned her hot cheeks as she race-walked toward my office. So undignified.
“He’s ruining my staff,” I told Onyx. My black German shepherd lay curled on his velvet bed near my desk. He whined as if sharing my displeasure. Onyx was my constant companion and only confidant. Dogs understood loyalty.
With a soft tap-tap, Sara pushed open my office door. A slight blush colored her cheeks. “Lee, the man in the gray shirt says he’s an old family friend.” Her curiosity was not disguised in the least. As far as Sara or any of my employees knew, I didn’t have friends or family.
“Send Derek in.”
Her eyebrows rose comically high at my answer. She was intrigued, but I ignored it.
“Should I bring coffee service?”
“He won’t be staying.” My flat tone crushed all the unspoken questions that hovered on her tongue.
“Oh. I’ll just go get Mr. Sawyer then…” She left my door cracked open and rushed to Derek who was perusing a display case of estate jewelry.
It took effort to restrain myself from smoothing my hair and nervously shifting in the chair. Derek’s visit wasn’t something to be excited about. Calm and unaffected was the order of the day. I flicked a single black dog hair off my snow-white lapel.
He walked into my office with a warm smile and a kind thank-you on his lips for Sara. It was an act. I knew his real smile. He wore it every time he thanked my mother for having him at our place for the holidays. The difference was the forced tightness around his lips and eyes…this smile wasn’t genuine.
No, Derek was playing a role. Acting polite. In reality, he was a hard-ass, and I should be wary. My life couldn’t withstand his kind of scrutiny.
As the door closed behind Sara, Derek’s painted-on grin faded. He made no move toward me. No hug, no smile. Not like at the gala. The remnants of my teenage crush turned to ash, leaving a bitter, hollow sensation behind.
So be it.
I said nothing, and the silence grew strained. Onyx broke the ice. His low warning growl was enough to send shivers up most men’s spines.
Derek’s gaze shot toward my dog. Two alpha males sizing each other up.
“Welcoming committee?” He gave the dog a wide berth and moved toward a visitor chair in front of my oversized desk.
“Night security.”
I took a small amount of pleasure in his concern over Onyx. Guns were a useful tool. But when every other person was packing heat, eighty pounds of well-trained K9 brought a different kind of intimidation factor.
Still wary of the dog, Derek slowly eased himself into the chair. Onyx gave another low rumble. Damn, I loved my dog. He was getting a whole steak for lunch today.
“Onyx, settle.” Instantly, the dog relaxed back on his bed, but his gaze lingered on Derek.
Before the silence could return, I dove into the first inane conversation topic I could think of.
“What has it been, twenty years since we saw each other?”
“You mean before the gala.”
