“I know that look,” I say, drumming my fingers on my empty coffee cup.
“What look might that be?” Tad’s nonchalance only solidifies my fear that the day is about to take a turn for the worse.
“Don’t you ‘what look’ me. What you’re doing with your face right now says there’s something you’ve forgotten, and you just now remembered, and I’m not going to like hearing about it at all.”
He grins sheepishly. “You say that like you know me.”
“You say that like you’re surprised,” I say with a sigh. “Out with it, Tad. If you’re going to ruin my day, I’m a ‘sooner rather than later’ kind of woman.”
“Mr. West called this morning to move your meeting forward by forty-five minutes.” Tad grimaces, his shoulders coming up to meet his ears like he’s bracing for impact.
“By forty-five…? Tad! That’s like ten minutes from now!” Thankfully, I spent most of last night tweaking my proposal and finishing the mood board, so I’m prepared. I’ll only need a few minutes to go over the materials and get my head on straight. Which is good because a few minutes are all I have.
Tad chews his bottom lip and my heart sinks.
“Oh, for heaven’s sake. What else do you need to tell me?”
“Mr. West also requested you meet him at Red Stiletto for lunch instead of him coming here. And I was sure you’d be prepared because you always are, so you could go over your notes before the meeting with the charming Mason Channing, then skedaddle on over to the restaurant as soon as it was over…except I forgot to tell you about the change.”
“Yes. Yes, you did.” I glance at the time and all I can do is laugh. “And now, I have to race across town to meet a client, showing up late and underprepared.”
A client I’m already on shaky ground with, thanks to a certain drunken text and embarrassing request on my part.
A client who agreed to help, but only after negotiating himself a sixty percent discount off my design fee.
A client who really is The Prince of Darkness. I shiver as the last bit of Mason’s sunshine bleeds out of my body.
Tad flashes me his most winning smile. “It’s a good thing I’m so amazing every other part of the day or you’d fire me, right Ms. Blake?”
“Oh, Tad. I could never fire you.” I pat his cheek. “You’re just too pretty.”
My assistant beams. “I love working for a woman who appreciates my strengths.”
I dash into my office and shoot Mr. West a quick text.
Sorry. Running late. Will be there ASAP.
I watch for signs of a response, but when nothing happens, I swipe my tablet off my desk, slide it into my bag, then head for the door.
EIGHT
Mina
The beautiful, cloudless day has turned my car into a sauna. It’s so hot, I can barely breathe and I’m sweating under my arms, my boobs, and at my temples before I make it out of the parking lot. I hit every red light on the way to Red Stiletto, which gives the air conditioner a chance to stop me from melting, but by the time I find myself seated across from a bristly Nathan West, I’m almost half an hour late.
He's wearing a black T-shirt that clings to his upper body and offsets the mahogany in his dark hair. The glint in his eyes skews a little more summer forest and a lot less thorns and brambles, an improvement over our first meeting.
I think.
The Prince of Darkness is hotter when he’s friendly and I’m not sure what to do with the way my lower belly clenches at the sight of him. Combine that with a dusting of scruff on the hard lines of his cheeks and jaw and I’m swallowing a sigh of appreciation.
Maybe I misjudged him at our first meeting.
Maybe he was having a bad day.
Maybe he deserves the benefit of the doubt and a little grace on my part.
“I am so sorry, Mr. West,” I say, breathlessly tucking a lock of hair behind my ear. “I assure you this is not typical of me.”
“Oh, come now, Hot Mess. I feel like I’ve heard that somewhere before.”
And that might be the end of the grace I have for him.
If his snarky grin didn’t make me bristle, the stupid nickname sealed the deal. I’m willing to put our bumpy start aside. He should be too.
“And please,” he continues as if he didn’t just insult me, “call me Nathan.”
How can someone so pretty be this rude?
“I’d rather stick with Prince of Darkness,” I retort with a sweet smile, then drop my jaw, realizing I’m in a business meeting…
…with a client…
…and after showing up half an hour late…
…I insulted him.
I clamp a hand over my mouth. “I’m so sorry—”
