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New city. New attitude.
Throw caution to the wind, Ari.
“Let’s do it!”
My butt barely hit the backseat of the cab when we’re already in Culver City. Normally, I’d leaf through the pages of my presentation during the ride to a meeting. I considered Googling as much as I could, but decided against it. I’m not a half-full kind of girl. I dive deep or not at all. Bits and pieces of information would only end up giving me a panic attack. Easton assured me I had this one in the bag. Why stress when I don’t have to?
After a thorough screening when the cab rolled in front of a security booth, we inch to the front of a modern building where a row of security guards awaits. Another round of checks later and I enter the building.
They don’t skimp on security here.
As my Cedrics heels click against the polished concrete floor, I take in the impeccable décor. This place is dripping with luxury. It’s understated, but impossible to ignore. I gasp in admiration when my eyes catch an edgy ceiling lamp, consisting of eight large black globes, that looks more like a work of art than a utilitarian item. It’s a great complement to the modern water wall.
Wow.
Whoever is behind this has flawless taste.
From the opulence, it’s apparent I’m not dealing with wannabe bubble gum CEOs who are nothing more than time-wasting teenage boys dressed in suits.
Amen to that.
The thought of a certain man in a suit brings me back to my extremely attractive elevator roommate. Considering the solemn promise I made to myself, that guy has no business occupying my thoughts like he has.
Focus.
“Hello and good morning! Welcome to SCORE MAX Audio Bass! I’m Paula. How can I help you today?” a thin jovial redhead with a slick bob, wearing a white blazer, says in one breath as I approach her desk.
“Good morning. My name is Arianne Buchanan. Valerie is expecting me.”
“She told me to be on the lookout for you.” Paula gives me a onceover, her smile widening. “I love your suit. I’ve never seen a woman wear a vest under a jacket before,” she says when her green eyes meet mine.
“It’s a little conservative, I know.”
“It’s good, honey,” she says. “So many young women these days walk around with dresses that are as short as t-shirts. It’s slutty.”
“It’s not my style,” I tell her.
“Your beauty should speak for itself,” she says. “And God was good to you, honey.”
“Thank you,” I say, blushing. “Valerie mentioned the meeting was on the fifth floor. I should go upstairs. I don’t want to be late.”
“You’re right. You better go before I talk your ear off,” Paula says. “I’m from Minnesota. We’ve been accused of being too friendly.” She laughs.
“Friendly is good.”
“Aww… I like you already,” she says, placing her hand against her heart. “If you head right up to those elevators,” she points to her right, “I’ll tell Valerie you’re on your way up.”
“Thank you.”
“Knock ’em dead, honey! You’re surely dressed for the part!”
Chapter 7
Beckett
“Arianne is here,” Valerie announces when I pick up my landline. “She’s in the 1916 Traub conference room. I’ll let Rhys know.”
Given our mutual penchant for bikes, all of our conference rooms are named after rare motorcycles.
