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I re-read the words again. ‘I’m a family man, and would only sell this property to someone that holds my own values. It’s the most important thing to me’.
SEVEN
Sebastian
Idon’t know how long I stood in the elevator lobby after Alex left. Her words replayed over and over until Cooper came and slapped me on the back, pulling me from my thoughts. Alex has a way with words, that’s for sure. Throughout lunch I’m distracted, but not enough to ignore the knowing smirk on Cooper’s face the whole time.
I’m still in my head about it the next day when Alex waltzes into my office, looking cool and collected. As if our interactions have no impact on her. Leaning back in my chair, I feign an air of nonchalance. She’s wearing a tight black dress that she’s paired with an oversized blazer and shiny high heels. Her hair is down around her shoulders and her makeup is subtle but highlights her high cheekbones and dark eyes. She’s the epitome of professionalism.
“Good morning, Mr. Worthington,” she greets, a fake smile on her lips.
I feel the start of a headache coming on as I rub my temple and will myself to unclench my jaw. “Good morning, Alex.”
She assesses me for a moment as she moves toward the couch, removing her blazer, taking a seat, and pulling some documents from her bag. I watch as she lays them on the small table in front of her before lifting her gaze to me, looking expectant.
She doesn’t say a word, waiting for me to go to her.
My mind plays images of the last time she was here; I was sitting on that same couch, watching her and seeing the hurt she wasn’t quick enough to hide. I couldn’t help the bitter smile that fell on my lips or the way my hands instinctively tightened in the hair clenched in my hands.
She clears her throat when I take a seat next to her, shuffling away but coming to a stop by the arm of the couch. I’m probably too close, but it doesn’t stop me from spreading my arms across the back of the sofa and playing with a strand of her hair.
Alex stiffens, leaning forward so her hair falls from my grasp. “We should keep this professional.” After a long pause, she adds, “I meant everything I said to you.” It’s whispered and probably said more for her benefit than mine.
But my next words are said to reassure her. Even if they aren’t true. “I am being a professional.”
This gets her attention and as she turns to face me, she folds her arms across her chest, leveling her gaze at me. “So you always play with the hair of your attorneys?”
She’s got me there.
Holding my hands up, I say, “I’m sorry. No more hair touching.”
“Good. So, I’ve done some research on George Bennett and the space you’re looking to purchase…” Her voice trails off as a frown pulls on her brow. As if having won an internal fight with herself, she sits a little straighter as she asks, “Why aren’t you using your previous attorneys?”
Alex shuffles the papers on the table as she waits for me to answer, and I watch, mesmerized by her slender fingers. My own fingers have gone back to the smooth strands of her hair, but she doesn’t call me out on it this time. I feel relaxed and at peace; like all the stress has left my body.
“They didn’t impress me with their service, and Cooper said he could help.”
She turns to me, eyeing me suspiciously, folding her arms over her chest and tipping her head to the side. “Did you know he was going to assign me?”
“I didn’t have a clue he was going to assign you. I didn’t even know you specialized in property. In truth, I thought he would do it himself. You're full of yourself if you think I’d orchestrate this just to spend time with you.”
Alex scoffs, leaning back against the arm of the chair as she shakes her head and says, “I don’t even know what to say to that.”
We sit in a comfortable silence for a moment, staring at each other, her gaze searching mine before she nods, and goes back to the papers on the table in front of her. She’s decided on something and I don’t like the fact that I’m not privy to it.
Our chemistry is undeniable and I can feel it crackling between us even as Alex talks me through her plan.
The soothing sound of her voice pulls me from my thoughts. “From all of my research—on paper—it doesn’t look like Mr. Bennett will sell to… a man like you.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I know exactly what she means and apparently, I’m a glutton for punishment.
She squirms in her seat as she lifts her gaze to me and straightens her spine. “I just mean... well, you’re not...” Pulling in a breath, she rushes out, “You’re not exactly a family man.”
“And?”
“Well, everything I’ve read—including an article he was featured in forThe Chicago Tribune—said he would only ever sell to a family man.”
“I don’t foresee it being a problem.”
