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In the meantime, she woke up most mornings feeling lost. Who was she, really? Who would she have been if she hadn’t been switched in the nursery that day? It was too soon to know all the answers yet, but the time she’d spent with Jade and her parents had been enlightening enough. She certainly wouldn’t have gotten a private school education or gone on to study at Georgetown University. She wouldn’t have gotten a Mercedes convertible for her sixteenth birthday or a two-month trip through Europe as a high school graduation present. Her real parents couldn’t afford all that. Morgan had grown up with every luxury that should’ve been Jade’s to enjoy.
Then again, if they hadn’t been switched, then perhaps Morgan would’ve been free to live her life the way she wanted to. That was one luxury she could never afford, no matter how big her investment portfolio got.
At this point, she supposed she should be happy that her family hadn’t turned their backs on her. This had been their chance to wash their hands of her, and they hadn’t. Although she had the reputation of being the perfect princess of the family, it certainly wasn’t because she was without flaws. She was fairly sure she regularly disappointed her parents in one way or another. Not intentionally, but it still happened.
Seeing Jade with her flawless skin, white-blond hair and big dark eyes—almost a clone of her mother, Patricia Steele—made her feel like even more of a disappointment. She imagined that even bound on the floor of the dirty warehouse where they’d found her, Jade was more like the ideal Steele daughter than Morgan would ever be.
She’d only been able to spend a little time with Arthur and Carolyn Nolan, and only in a group setting, but it made her wonder if she would feel more comfortable with her biological family. Perhaps they would be so happy to spend time with their real daughter that their expectations would be lower. Perhaps they wouldn’t care that she wasn’t a perfect size two or that she’d eloped in college with a poor boy she’d loved more than anything. Maybe they would’ve supported her choices instead of erasing them.
Or maybe she was imagining a perfect situation that had never existed and never could have existed. If she’d been raised as Jade Nolan, she probably wouldn’t have met River at that bar in Five Points. Her life would’ve taken a different path. But there was no going back and no sense worrying about things like that.
A chiming sound came from her computer, accompanied by an instant message from her assistant. Miss Steele, your four o’clock appointment is here, she wrote.
Speak of the devil.
Morgan took a deep breath. And then there was that situation to deal with. It was a horrible thing to say, but the kidnapping had been a welcome distraction from River and his unexpected appearance. As though she didn’t already have enough going on in her life, he had to pop up out of nowhere. In one night—at one party, even—her past had caught up with her in more ways than one.
Now, her ex-husband was sitting just outside her office, ready to talk about how they were going to spend the summer together. She could hardly even imagine how she was going to get through this.
Morgan wanted to back out. She’d build six houses next year to make up for it. But she knew that wouldn’t fly. They’d already announced their partnership with Southern Charm Construction. If they didn’t go through with it, it would raise questions. Questions no one wanted to answer. Besides, if she made a fuss, her father
would get involved and that was the last thing she wanted.
If Trevor Steele had taught her nothing else, it was that a Steele stayed poised and professional at all times—even in the face of scandal or disaster. So that was all she could do.
Send him in, she replied to her assistant’s message. Then she locked her computer screen and prepared herself for another argument. There was no way they wouldn’t be finishing what they’d started the other night. If they were going to work together, they needed to clear the air once and for all.
The door swung open and standing in the doorway was River. Today, he’d traded in his tuxedo for a navy suit, but it looked just as amazing on him. He’d found an excellent tailor, she’d give him that. The jacket fit his broad shoulders and narrow waist easily. He was still on the lean side, a runner’s physique, but even with his coat on, she could tell his upper body was cut. She supposed that working construction could build up those muscles. It made her want to squeeze a bicep and feel it flex beneath her fingertips.
He smiled at her and she felt her resolve start to weaken as heat crept up her neck. It made her wish she’d worn a blouse with a higher neckline. Or that she’d thought to button it up to the throat before he came into her office. Or worn a scarf. At the slightest agitation, be it arousal or embarrassment, her chest and neck would turn a blotchy red. At its worst, her face would follow suit and she’d look like a furious cherry tomato. She hadn’t thought about this appointment when she dressed this morning.
Of course, it would help if Morgan didn’t think about his muscles. Or his smile. Or his anything.
It was too late for that. Instead, all she could do was wave him inside. He shut the door behind him and casually made his way across her office to the desk where she was waiting for him.
When her father had first ordered the furniture for her office, she’d hated it. It was bulky executive furniture that weighed a thousand pounds and was far too dark for her taste. It was perfect for a mahogany row office, but that wasn’t the image she wanted to project. Working for charity while sitting at a ten-thousand-dollar desk was tacky.
At the moment, however, she was grateful for it. Having a mountain of wood between the two of them was almost enough to make her feel comfortable in his presence. Almost.
Comfortable or not, it was time to take control of this situation. She might not be a Steele, but she’d been raised like one, and she wasn’t going to let River get the upper hand today. She sat up straight at her desk, lacing her fingers together over her leather blotter and crossing her ankles. This was the pose that flipped the switch in her brain to work.
Then she watched River do the opposite. He unbuttoned his jacket and settled into the chair like he was at home on his couch. He made himself comfortable, sitting back and casually crossing his ankle over his knee as though he didn’t have a care in the world. Somehow, that didn’t seem fair to Morgan.
Time to make him as uncomfortable as she was.
* * *
“Before we get started, I have one question for you, Mr. Atkinson.”
“Mr. Atkinson is my father,” he noted with a sigh. Judging by Morgan’s tone, she was ready to finish their little chat from the party. He was glad he was at least in a comfy chair if she was going to lay into him first thing. This could turn into a very long or very short meeting depending on how the next few minutes went. “But ask away.”
“What exactly are you doing here?” Her gaze fixed on him with a pointed expression on her face.
“I’m here to talk about building houses for the poor. Isn’t that why you’re here?” He couldn’t help the sarcasm from slipping into his voice. It was one of the only emotions he had left where she was concerned.
She studied his face for a moment. “I’m serious, River. Why did you sign up for this whole thing? If you only bid on this job to get your chance to tell me off, then just walk away now. This charity project is important to me. If you’re not genuinely interested in helping the community, I’ll find another contractor.”
“Oh, I’m very serious,” he said. And he meant it. “This project is essential to me and my company’s five-year plan.”
