Vlad wasn’t particularly fond of travelling. Shiro was the one that travelled, and though Vladimir often wondered what it would be to accompany him to some of the more exotic locales he visited, in the end, any time spent traveling was just time that he spent away from the office.

And that always worked him up.

Even though his father told him that he and the office managers would handle everything in his absence, Vlad still found himself somewhat anxious. He had been to the sites of several other buildings for the firm during construction, but his father never sent him alone. He realized that Jackson had been slowly but surely leeching power over to him for the past ten years, and that this day was inevitable.

But he still wasn’t quite sure what proper decorum was.

His flight got into Los Angeles at five in the evening, and he was slated to meet with the architect the next morning. Even now he found himself reluctant to leave his desk. At a sharp knock on his door, he looked up, expecting to see Marcy in the doorway. Instead of the brunette, however, he found his brother Ethan grinning at him.

Arching a brow, he eyed the blonde man in inquiry. “Aren’t you supposed to be looking over the budget projections for Japan?”

“Always happy to see me. Brings such a smile to my face, Vlad.” Truth be told, Ethan, despite being a brilliant accountant, was always looking for one excuse or another to get out of his department. He hated to stay in one place for too long - in that aspect he was a lot like their oldest brother Alistair.

“Did you finish the projections?”

At his unrelenting question, Ethan merely sighed, leaning against the doorframe with a long-suffering expression. “Of course I did. Have I ever failed to meet a deadline?”

He had a point. Despite the younger man’s tendency to wander, he never neglected to finish an important project, and today would be no exception. Sighing, Vlad finally allowed himself a small smile. “Happy to see me go?”

“As my boss or as my brother?” Ethan replied with a teasing smile, stepping into the room to gaze around the office. He had often commented on how threadbare Vlad’s decorative sense was. He liked neutral colors - nothing too terribly eye-catching, as he believed it distracted him. His office was an organized, neutral zone that Ethan insisted made more creative minds want to climb the walls.

“Very funny.” Vlad grabbed a stack of folders from the top drawer of his desk before sliding them into his briefcase.

“Oh, come on, Vlad. You know everyone will miss you...That’s why I’ve come really - to tell you not to be gone long.” Ethan winked. “The office isn’t the same without you.”

“More relaxed I’m sure. Dad will take care of things.”

“You know,” Ethan braced his arms on the desk, grinning up at his brother. “You’re not nearly as scary as you think you are. Obsessive, maybe, but not scary.”

“I don’t know whether to take that as a compliment or not.” Vlad smirked, shutting his drawer after gathering a few last stacks of papers to take with him. Though he already had the budget for the LA building, his father had advised him to be flexible and keep an open mind. When he said so, he’d gotten that damned twinkle in his eye again - the one that tended to make Vlad suspicious as hell. He only hoped the man wasn’t plotting to have the building constructed underground...Vladimir could only imagine the logistics nightmare.

“Well, you have to come back if you want to see what a debacle I’m making of my life.” Vladimir arched a brow, wondering what on earth he was talking about. “Oh, Dad hasn’t told you yet?” Ethan took his expression almost gleefully, more than ready to tell all. “I’m going to be speaking to a matchmaker in a week or so. I thought it might be a good bit of entertainment.”

Vlad could only stare at his brother incredulously. If there was any man in the Kensley clan that had absolutely no issue getting any woman he wanted, it was Ethan. He was an innate womanizer, and he seemed to collect admirers like most people did clothing. “Why the hell would you need a matchmaker?”

Ethan merely chuckled, obviously amused by his brother’s surprise. “Like I said: fun. I’ve tried pretty much every other avenue to meet women. This one should be pretty damned interesting.”

With a sigh, Vlad merely shook his head. “In that case, I might try to stay away for longer than I anticipated. Far be it from me to come back to you torturing your next victim.”

“Oh, come on, Vlad. Am I really that bad?”

Vladimir didn’t answer, instead only smiling at the blonde man. Ethan was, indeed, all that and more. With all the determination their father had that he should settle down with a worthy woman, Vlad was surprised that he wasn’t more preoccupied with Ethan.

“Oh, fine then. Deny me my fun.” With that, Ethan stepped around the desk to enfold him in an unexpected hug. Vlad stiffened for a moment in shock before he allowed himself to embrace his brother in return. “Have a good trip, boss.”

After all these years, he was still reticent when it came to unexpected affection - but he appreciated it more than he had when he was at his loneliest.

“Don’t wreak havoc while I’m gone.” He thumped the younger man in the back before picking up his briefcase. As much as Ethan could grind on his nerves, he felt fairly confident knowing that he and his father would remain in Manhattan in his absence.

After all, the days were racing by at this point - there were less than nine months before he was supposed to take over his father’s position completely. Effectively, this project in LA would be his last before he ascended to the level of CEO.

It was a lot to think about.

In truth, though, Vladimir had been able to contemplate little else for the past few weeks - he had been even more absorbed than usual in his daily regime at the office, and when he went home to his Manhattan apartment, he was usually working as well. The dark-haired man was determined that he should know everything there was to know about the firm by the time he took his place at its head.

At least, that would be ideal.

If nothing else, at least his time in LA would give him a breather from the media bubble he existed inside in Manhattan. His father always told him that one had to deal with the media like they were particularly pesky bugs and only pay attention to the really important ones - but Vlad had never been very proficient at dealing with them period. It was one of the reasons he had hired Marcy - she doubled as his media representative and personal assistant.

Whenever possible, Vlad avoided the media completely. He knew that once he ascended to CEO status, this would be near impossible, so he supposed he had to relish his personal time while it lingered.

Though the flight was five hours, it felt to Vladimir as if the time passed in a whirlwind. All too soon, he was landing at the airport and he barely felt ready to face what he was sure promised to be a daunting task. He knew little about LA or the infrastructure there and was counting on the architect to fill him in.

He could only hope that Charlotte Garner wasn’t too wrapped up in herself to accommodate him. He’d been so absorbed in work that he had precious little time to research her before he got on the plane to LA. He didn’t really know what to expect. Of course, the last thing Vlad expected was to be confronted by a proverbial horde of media the moment he stepped from behind the security checkpoint.

For a moment, he just stared in shock. There had to be at least twenty reporters standing there, all with cameras trained on him. He had never been the type to travel with a security detail - but that didn’t mean he was as big or burly as his eldest brother Alistair. Vladimir wasn’t a shrimp by any means - he was almost six and a half feet tall, and working out was part of his daily regimen - but he didn’t think it would be a very good idea to go swinging through these reporters simply because they caught him off guard. That would hardly do.

Instead, he merely stood there as the throng surged towards him, intent on answers.

“Mr. Kensley, is it true that the new East Coast Headquarters for Kensley Enterprises will be built in the center of the city?”

“Has the design for the building been cemented yet?”

“Are you in competition with the other firms downtown?”

“Will the expenditure on this building be significantly higher than past projects?”

Vlad was far from prepared for the questions. He’d just gotten off a five-hour flight that he had believed would end in some semblance of relaxation before he had to get to work on the opposite coast - and now that idea was woefully disassembled. If he had to speak to the media, he would prefer to have something prepared - and Marcy was three thousand miles away, back in New York.

He merely stared at the flashing cameras for a long moment, trying to think of what his father might do under similar circumstances. There was no doubt that Jackson Kensley would know exactly what to say - the older man was possessed of an innate charm that Vlad knew he himself lacked.

He was prepared to answer the congregated people before him with a less than rousing “no comment” when, all at once, something completely unexpected occurred.

A tall, slender woman he hadn’t noticed stepped in front of him. She was glad in a deep green dress that accentuated her slim form - along with the curves she seemed to have exactly where they were needed. Her hair was the color of fire - riotous and red - it hung over her shoulders in a profusion of ringlets, haloing a face dotted with freckles splashed across creamy, smooth skin.

When she opened her mouth to speak, her soft brown eyes were bright and sure. “The design for the downtown high rise, has, in fact, been cemented. Mr. Kensley plans to go over it with the architect tomorrow in order to ascertain what the best day would be to break ground.”

Vlad blinked, shocked at how smoothly she articulated herself before moving on to the next question. “Kensley Enterprises certainly isn’t in direct competition with other firms downtown. It’s simply a reflection of their investment in the city that they purchased a chunk of prime real estate. They’re certainly moving to make their mark, as I’m sure all of you have noticed.”

Her answer sent a titter of amusement rippling through the crowd and Vlad looked at her in a mixture of confusion and intrigue. Who the hell was she? “As for the expenditure,” The redhead went on with a mysterious smile, “the firm is still working on that point. It will be released on public record when the building is complete, and anyone looking to criticize it can feel free to do so then. Now,” Even as the reporters began to clamor to ask more questions, the woman turned to Vlad, and he found himself unexpectedly struck by the mysterious, amused quirk of her full mouth, “Mr. Kensley has appointments that he needs to keep. There will be a press conference within the week. Mr. Kensley?”

It took him a full five seconds to realize that she meant him to follow her; and oddly, he did it without a second thought. Vlad fell into step behind a stranger, wondering how on earth she knew so much about the company’s project - and if she didn’t, how she managed to sound as if she did. Once they were outside at the airport curb, another few security guards hurried to control the reporters, allowing the fire-haired woman and he a wide berth as they moved towards the gleaming black Mercedes he’d been told to look for.

When she opened the door for him, Vlad merely looked at her curiously. “My apologies, but have we met before?”

She merely grinned at him, her smile lighting up an already pretty face. “I’m Charlotte Gardner, Mr. Kensley - the architect on your project. You were supposed to have an escort from the airport, but they got caught in traffic, and I was in the neighborhood. Sorry if I cut off whatever you planned to say back there. I got a little over excited.”

Charlotte Gardner.

She was Charlotte Gardner?

When Vlad’s father had mentioned an avant-garde, up-and-coming Californian architect, he had imagined a middle-aged woman dressed like a seventies hippie. Charlotte Garner seemed to be the very antithesis of this mental image. While she wasn’t a conventional, exotic model beauty, she was breathtakingly beautiful in her own way. Vladimir found himself strangely transfixed by the pattern of freckles painted across her bare throat and the vee of her cleavage - though he knew his thoughts were far from appropriate. One would think that an architect, someone constantly bent over a drawing table, would wear their hair up - or at least keep it from their face. Charlotte seemed to revel in the disorder of her curls - and Vlad had to admit, it certainly only added to her wild allure.

“That’s...quite alright.” He found himself answering cautiously. “I suppose I should be glad you came to my rescue.”

“Rescue?” Charlotte arched a brow as if the very notion offended her. “No, Mr. Kensley. I just came to make sure you got to the city alright. And now, here you are.” She gestured to the inside of the Mercedes with a small wry smirk. “I’d say my job is done.”

She had a very smart mouth and it occurred to Vlad that her attitude suited her appearance. “Well, Ms. Gardner, thank you for your help.”

“Please, call me Charlotte.” She stepped onto the curb and away from the car, giving him space to get in. “We will be working together from tomorrow, won’t we?”

She was right. As he hadn’t expected to meet her like this, Vlad had almost forgotten that he was supposed to have a meeting with her at nine the following morning. He would be seeing her again sooner rather than later - and for some reason, the fact gave him a little thrill that he couldn’t explain.

“I suppose we will. Until tomorrow then, Charlotte.” Nodding his head respectfully, Vlad grabbed his valise and slipped into the car. When Charlotte shut the door behind him, he found himself frowning. He didn’t very much like the way she treated him like a man that needed everything done for him - if anything at all, he should have seen her back to her car.

Even if that had been impossible with the media chasing him like they were.

Damn.

Vlad realized that he had been so caught up in the unfamiliar that Charlotte had completely controlled their first interaction - his father had always taught him that when dealing with new clients, it was always important to gain the upper hand as quickly as possible - not so you could look down on the other party, but so that you could dictate the terms of the engagement.

Charlotte’s unexpected presence had shocked him so that he hadn’t thought about it - he had been too busy counting her freckles.

He expelled a long breath, suppressing a groan.

What the hell was wrong with him? Vlad knew what he liked in a woman, on the few occasions that he deemed to sleep with one, and Charlotte Garner was not it. Even after just one meeting, he could tell that she was the opposite of a poised, impeccably coiffed, meticulously polite woman of high society.

And yet...there was something ridiculously drawing about all that hair and that wicked little smile - as if she knew something that he didn’t.

He would have to be on his guard. After all, their meeting hadn’t been official. It wasn’t too late, Vlad reminded himself, for him to dictate the rules of engagement. He just had to be on top of his game the next day. He wouldn’t let Charlotte Gardner surprise him again.

**

Charlotte chose to have dinner herself that night. She knew that Lila was supposed to be home around seven, so she purposefully skived off to one of her favorite sushi joints for a bit of privacy and indulged with a bottle or two of sake as she reviewed what had happened that afternoon.

She met her employer.

Charlotte had expected to have rather strong impressions of the man slotted to be the next CEO of Kensley enterprises. After all, she knew that she liked his father. Jackson Kensley was a force of nature - he controlled his empire with an iron fist without being cruel, and he was as honest as he was opinionated when it came to what he believed would take his company in the right direction.

But when it came to Vladimir Kensley...she had no idea what she thought.

The rational conclusion was that it was too soon to tell. She had spent perhaps ten minutes in the man’s presence, and that much only by chance. Charlotte had, in fact, been at the airport in order to pick up a friend of Lila’s who didn’t have a ride back to her house. The younger woman had decided to take a taxi, even though Charlotte had insisted that she didn’t mind driving her, and the redhead ended up stranded at the airport. Well, stranded was a strong word. She had decided to stay to people watch. Airports were fantastic places for activities like people watching - one could see cultures and ethnicities from all over the world in one place. That, and some of the most interesting people in LA seemed to hang out around the airport- from bums to artists.

She hadn’t planned on being there when Kensley’s plane got in, but she couldn’t have ignored it if she tried. The entire airport had cranked into high gear, and everyone on shift in the shops and restaurants wanted to take their lunch hour in a bid to see the man.

Unlike the rest of the Kensley family, Vladimir Kensley was infamous for his avoidance of the media. According to rumors, he liked to let his work do the talking more than any boasting he might put forth- which explained why he liked to keep himself sequestered behind closed doors. Of course, everyone wanted a good look at him.

Including her. Charlotte told herself that she had an excuse - she was going to be working with the man and this would provide a good opportunity for her to size him up. The few pictures she’d seen of him were hazy and unfocused, and considering his reputation, she had imagined him to be a pencil-necked, ingratiating businessman obsessed with his father’s legacy.

On her assumptions about his physical appearance, at least, she had been completely wrong.

Vladimir Kensley was pretty damn attractive - and that was an understatement. Close to six and a half feet tall, with dark hair combed back carefully from his brow and piercing blue eyes, he wore a perpetually perturbed look that was surprisingly sexy with his unusually full mouth. He was the first man Charlotte had ever seen who could make a suit look so sinful. It had to have been tailored for him - the way it fit his broad shoulders and narrow waist perfectly. It also did nothing to hide what she was sure had to be decidedly anti-pencil neck body beneath his clothes.

It was, therefore, understandable that she’d been shocked to see such an obviously imposing man hesitate in the face of the media. It had taken her a moment to remember that this was the man who didn’t like cameras - though she had no idea why, as the cameras had to love him. Them and half of the world’s female population.

He didn’t look scared, per say - merely as if the last thing he wanted on earth was to talk to a group of ravenous reporters after what had to have been an ass-long flight from the east coast- and on that, she could commiserate.

Perhaps that was why she had stepped in.

Charlotte had known as she did it that she was overstepping her boundaries - that, no doubt, Vladimir Kensley could just as easily have walked away from the crowd of reporters without her help - but something had drawn her to cover for him. It was easy when she could spout the answers to most of the questions reporters asked off the top of her head as if they were child’s play. She could feel Kensley’s eyes on her the whole time, and seriously hoped that he wouldn’t fire her for doing something so completely beyond her job description.

But he hadn’t even known who she was.

It made a certain type of sense. She hardly expected her father to have sent Jackson Kensley a picture of her - he would have been proud that she had been selected for her skill alone, and hardly considered looks important. It was the kind of thing a female applicant might have done on her own, but that she could give two shits about.

Even when she revealed herself Kensley hadn’t seemed angry. Or, maybe he had and she simply hadn’t noticed. Certainly, Charlotte had been more than a little absorbed in the way that he talked. Though the young woman knew from her father that Jackson Kensley’s five sons were all adopted, four of them from different countries, she had expected that decades stateside might have exhausted most of their foreign distinctions - on that case, she had also been wrong. Vladimir Kensley spoke his perfect, refined English with the slightest Russian accent - clipped vowels and elongated consonants, and damned if she didn’t find it sexy as hell.

But other than his innate good looks and the way he spoke, Charlotte found she didn’t get much more from Kensley. She considered herself a pretty good judge of character - she had known from the first night that Lila met Benny that he was going to be good for her. But Vladimir was hard to read. He seemed a bit...distant. Perfectly polite, but…. noncommittal.

At least, that was her first impression. Who knew what was going to happen the next day? To be honest, the most she could hope for was that he approved of the plan just as much as his father and allowed her the creative freedom she craved. Everything else was less important by far.

It was childish, Charlotte argued with herself, to want the man to actually like her. If anything, men like Vladimir Kensley were less inclined than most to like people like her. Charlotte was fully aware that she could be a handful at the best of times, but she could take care of herself. She didn’t need anyone’s approval.

But she wanted Kensley’s.

She must be losing her mind.

The thought was enough to make her order another bottle of sake as she considered her scallop sashimi.  Her entire career hinged on her ability to handle this job properly. Whether Kensley liked her or not, the important thing was that she didn’t fuck it up.

**

It took a lot to make Charlotte nervous. She had given presentations where she was certain people would think her out of her mind. She had shown her designs to her coworkers without certainty that they would remain hers, and she had been laughed at in her fair sure of her architecture courses - but she had never felt the way she did upon waking the morning of her first official meeting with Vladimir Kensley.

She had barely slept the night before, despite her three bottles of sake, and she trudged into the kitchen half-awake, her stomach in knots.

At the sight of her, Lila’s eyes widened in surprise. “Lottie! What’s up with you? You look awful.”

The redhead shot her a thin smile. “Thanks.” She made a beeline for the coffee maker without hesitation, pouring herself a cup of the strong black brew. She drank so fast that it burned her tongue and she winced, doing her best to ignore it. By the time she was finished, Lila stood before her with a pronounced frown.

“I just brewed that. You’re insane.”

“Not insane,” Charlotte nitpicked, pouring herself another cup, “Just exhausted.”

“You didn’t get any sleep?” Lila asked, her eyes narrowing in worry.

“Do I ever get any?” Charlotte’s bona fide method of misdirection was cracking jokes - but if there was ever someone to consistently see through her shenanigans, it was Lila.

“You usually don’t wake up looking half-dead. Tell me what’s wrong.” Charlotte sighed, sipping at her second cup of coffee more slowly. She was loathed to admit the source of her discomfort to anyone, but she knew Lila would only pester her until she came clean. Taking a deep breath, she spilled the beans.

“I have my meeting with Vladimir Kensley in two hours.” Lila merely stared at her, unblinking, as she processed this tidbit of information. A long beat of silence passed between them before the blonde replied with a single word.

“So?”

 

Charlotte merely gawked at her. “So? What do you mean ‘so’? This is Vladimir Kensley we’re talking about. I could only be higher up on the totem pole if I were meeting Jackson Kensley himself.”

Lila merely sighed, running a hand through her blonde waves. “Haven’t you known this was coming for three or four weeks?”

That gave Charlotte pause. She certainly had. The moment the date was cemented for Vladimir’s arrival, she had known. She’d had more than ample time to prepare. “Well, I-”

“And you haven’t been nervous this whole time. Why the sudden change of heart?” Lila’s eyes only narrowed further at her next question. “This isn’t like you. I can count on one hand the few people you’ve met who intimidate you, and one of them is your dad, so...what’s up, Lottie?

Fuck. She was caught.

How was she supposed to explain that she’d been up for half the night worrying about what Vladimir would think about her plans? After all, it had already been decided that she was going to be the architect. It wasn’t as if the son could override the father...but there was something more than that. For some unexplainable reason, Charlotte found herself wanting nothing more than to wipe that faintly disinterested look off Vladimir Kensley’s face. She wanted his shock, his admiration and... God knew what else.

It wasn’t a feeling she was familiar with. She, who had spent most of her life adamantly refusing to care what other people thought of her. She ran a hand through her tangled red curls before blowing out a breath.

Reluctantly, she told Lila what had happened the previous day, watching her friend’s eyes go wide as she relayed the story of how she’d run into him at the airport. “So... what?” Lila finally demanded when she finished. “You snatch the man from the claws of reporters and... then what? No thank you? No acknowledgement?”

“Oh, he thanked me. He was polite as fuck - no chance of him skipping that.”

Crossing her bare arms over her chest, Lila eyed her quizzically. “Then why are you losing sleep over it?”

Charlotte groaned, setting her coffee cup on the counter a moment before she leaned against it herself. “I have no fucking clue. I should be excited. The project is going to start soon - the biggest project of my entire career…”

“Has the younger Kensley seen your plans yet?” At Lila’s question, Charlotte froze. Damn. How did the blonde get so good at getting to the very heart of her insecurities? It was uncanny.

Charlotte swallowed thickly, knowing she was digging her own grave. “No. Jackson was pretty insistent that he not see them until he got to LA.”

A pregnant pause hovered between them a moment before Lila responded with a soft, knowing. “Ah.”

Somehow, it irked Charlotte more than if her friend had lectured her. “Don’t ‘ah’ me. What is that supposed to mean? I’d rather you get all huffy than ‘ah’ me.” She glared at the shorter girl - a move that would have cowed many. Lila, however, only offered her a small smile.

“You like him.”

Charlotte immediately turned scarlet, the color clashing with her vivid hair. “What the hell!? Lila, I don’t even know him!”

“Right. And the fact that you don’t, and his opinion obviously matters to you, is a dead giveaway. You think he’s cute.”

That was the understatement of the century. Charlotte didn’t know a woman alive who would call Vladimir Kensley cute. He was undeniably masculine in every way that counted - even if he wasn’t a man splashed all over the tabloids with a new woman on his arm every week. Maybe it had something to do with that strange, detached manner of his…

“He’s my boss,” Charlotte decided to rebut diplomatically. “I can’t think he’s cute. At least not now.”

“Right,” Lila replied, hoisting herself onto the counter to swing her legs casually. “As if not being allowed to actually ever stopped someone from thinking something.”

Charlotte scowled at her. She was too clever for her own good - that was probably why she was her best friend. “In the end, it doesn’t matter what I think here, Lila. It’s what I need; and I need this job to go well if anything is supposed to come after it.”

“And it will, Lottie.” This seemed to be the point Lila had been getting at the entire time, as her face split into a brilliant smile. “I’ve never known you to let anything to get in the way of your job - regardless of how cute he is.”

Even as she smiled, Charlotte winced. “God, please stop calling him cute. He’s well over six-feet and breathtaking. I’ve never seen someone so mouthwatering in my life.” Lila laughed, shaking her head so her blonde locks spilled over her shoulders.

“Well, in that case, I think it might do you some good to be mouthwatering right back.”

Charlotte merely stared at her, completely perplexed. “You’re not telling me to seduce him?”

“Oh God no,” Lila stuck her tongue out. “I want you to keep your job as much as you do, Lotte. What I’m saying is that it always boosts my confidence if I go before intimidating people feeling intimidating myself. Catch my drift?”

It took Charlotte a good five seconds or so to realize what her friend was suggesting. Once she did, she eyed her with no small amount of reticence. “You do know that looking intimidating isn’t my forte? It’s the cray that sends everyone running for the hills.”

Lila merely chuckled. “I think, my dear Lottie, that you underestimate those killer pins and glorious figure.”

Killer pins? Glorious figure? Surely, Lila had been reading too much Cosmopolitan.

Within the hour, however, Charlotte came to realize just how serious her friend was. Lila insisted that she pull out all the stops, taking a shower and primping, taming her hair into a single braid down her back and struggling into a black pencil skirt and button up. When Charlotte slipped on a pair of heels and gazed into the mirror, she was slightly taken aback.

She didn’t even look like the same person.

She looked at herself first from the left, and then from the right before frowning and turning to Lila, who was eying her smugly from across the bed. “What do you think?”

Charlotte glanced in the mirror once more, taking in her carefully applied red lipstick and eyeliner. “I look like someone’s idea of a stripper gram.”

Lila snorted. “You look refined. Classy. Sexy without being obvious. You’re at the top of your game and Kensley will know it the moment he lays eyes on you.”

Charlotte managed to tear her gaze away from her image in the mirror long enough to smile at her roommate. “But I’m not seducing him.”

“Nope.” Lila replied, her grin growing even wider. “I forbid it. This is a strictly look-but-don’t touch situation.”

“You forbid it.” Charlotte rolled her eyes. “Like that’s ever stopped me.”

“Yeah, well, it’ll stop you this time.” Lila rebutted primly. “Besides, this isn’t about seduction - it’s about self-confidence, remember? Can you honestly not look in the mirror and feel sexy and confident right now?”

After assessing her reflection critically once more, Charlotte had to acquiesce that Lila had a point. In something like this, she was pretty sure she could take on anything - including Vladimir Kensley’s closest scrutinization.

 

An hour later, she was walking into one of the many high rises in downtown LA - this one, in particular, had served as an LA branch of Kensley enterprises for the last decade. Of course, now that they were designating the city the west coast hub, they needed to upgrade.

That was what she was here for.

When she told the receptionist that she had a nine am with Vladimir himself she was directed to the elevator bay and sent to the top floor. Though this building had been deemed too small to be the West Coast hub, the views were pretty breathtaking - even from the waiting room. As she was wearing heels, Charlotte felt prim enough to teeter her way over to the nearest armchair before sinking into it, her plans locked safely in the briefcase she hugged to her chest.

Lila was right. Her confidence had ratcheted upwards with her change in attire - but that didn’t mean she wasn’t still nervous just the same. Her heart hammered insistently against her ribs, and she had to remind herself that she was the best at what she did. She could handle this. If Jackson Kensley had chosen her, she could impress his son too.

Though she waited for about twenty minutes, to Charlotte, it could have been seconds. All at once, the secretary called her name and she was being gestured into Kensley’s office.

Her mouth so dry she could barely swallow, the young woman stood and made her way across the waiting room. Raising her hand, she took a deep breath before knocking briskly on the door.

**

“Come in.”

Vlad had just started to settle things to his liking in his temporary office when the secretary announced that his nine o’clock had arrived.

Charlotte Gardner.

The memory of all that red hair and those vivid eyes was enough to make his stomach twist. The dark-haired man wondered, briefly, if something he ate could have disagreed with him - but before he could come to a conclusion, she was answering his summons.

Vladimir looked up from where he sat at his desk and froze, staring at the woman who entered his office. She looked nothing like she had the previous day. Indeed, the female who stood before him was all at once demurer and more powerful than the woman who had stepped in at the airport. Her hair hung in a single, neat braid down her back, and the clothes she wore, while modest, left none of her curves to the imagination.

It was the first time in a long time that his body reacted to something without thinking, and Vlad found himself struggling against the heat that curled through his loins, even as she smiled jauntily at him.

“Mr. Kensley - wonderful to see you again.” She crossed the room in a few strides of long, slender legs to shake his hand, and Vladimir shot to his feet. He could smell her perfume - light and citrusy, floating across the distance between them and he had to force himself to hold out his hand for her.

The moment his fingers gripped hers, a bolt of awareness shot through him, making him swallow thickly. She had a grip as strong as any man he had ever met, and, instead of thinking it uncharacteristic, he was only further intrigued by her. “Miss Gardner,” he began, allowing himself the luxury of the same. “The pleasure is all mine.’

“Charlotte, please,” she reminded him, her smile becoming the mischievous one that he recognized from the previous day.

In that moment, Vlad remembered that he was supposed to be taking control of the situation. If he was too busy staring at her, he would be utterly useless in that regard. Luckily enough for him, he had no small amount of practice in tuning out the fantastical in favor of the numerical - and what they meant to discuss was certainly numerical.

He did his best to put from his mind how breathtaking Charlotte Gardner looked and how lovely she smelled. It took a little more work for him to ignore the fact that he couldn’t remember ever being so quickly drawn to a woman before, but somehow, he managed.  “Charlotte, then.” He indicated a plush leather seat that had been positioned before his desk. “Please, sit.”

She did so, sinking into the chair before primly crossing one leg over the other. In the process, her skirt hiked high on her thighs, and Vlad grimaced at the bevy of Russian curses that rose to the forefront of his mind.

“So, I’m sure you know that we’re eager to start the building,” He said, focusing instead on her intense, honey-colored gaze. “I’ve just come to oversee the project at my father’s request, and to make sure that everything goes smoothly. As I haven’t seen the plans yet, this meeting was arranged so we might discuss your creation.” He indicated the blank swathe of his highly polished oaken desk top. “Let’s have a look.”

Was it his imagination, or did she hesitate slightly before pulling the plans from her bag? Vlad decided that it had been in his mind as her nimble fingers worked on opening the clasp on her briefcase. Two seconds later, she was laying a stack of plans on the desk before him and unrolling them for his perusal.

When he looked down at the images set before him, Vladimir’s brows raced towards his hairline.

For a moment, he wasn’t quite sure what he was seeing.

In his time as operating manager of the firm, he’d looked over many sets of building plans. They all tended to have a pretty common theme - strong, solid lines, clear partitions between departments and spaces, and a spread into vertical space rather than horizontal. As many of their buildings were in enormous cities, it made sense to build upward and now outward, for the benefit of all parties involved.

The building he looked over now was the absolute antithesis of anything he’d ever seen constructed for the firm. True, the lot of land they’d purchased in LA was large, but this design would mean taking advantage of every square yard of it.

It was twenty stories tall, but each floor was almost as wide as a football field - and there seemed to be no discernable, concrete walls that he could see, besides the ones that closed off the staircases and encircled the structure proper.

There were windows - lots of windows, slanted lines, and almost absurd angles that he found himself observing more and more closely, wondering if it was even possible to construct a building this way. Though he wasn’t an architect himself, he found that his thought process worked quickly enough that he could understand why a great deal of them made the choices he did.

This was the first time Vladimir had looked upon a set of plans that he didn’t understand at all.

For a good ten minutes he stared at the parchment without saying a word. He flipped through all seven sheets of blueprints before him, each seemingly more convoluted than the last. This wasn’t so much architecture, he mused, as it was avant-garde artistry made into building form - was much flashier and far less grounded than anything the company had been associated with before.

He wondered, briefly, if these were even the same plans Charlotte had shown his father. While the older man had told him that her design was a bit unconventional, this was something else entirely. This building barely grappled with the edges of convention - so much so that he found himself voicing his questions aloud.

“These are the plans you showed my father, yes?”

Charlotte merely stared at him, unblinking, before nodding curtly. She seemed to be waiting for something - though exactly what was uncertain. Vladimir looked from her to the plans and then back again. It would be easier for him to believe that she had created them the way he’d seen her the previous day. It looked to him as if these plans had come from the mind of someone wild and untethered - the antithesis of the way he liked to do business.

If he was honest with himself, Vlad had no idea why his father had picked these particular plans. The design was unorthodox...it was like nothing they had ever employed before...and, to say the least, it made Vladimir slightly unsure as to what direction his father meant to take the company in. Something like this...it would surely change their public image somewhat.

“I assume you’ve seen what construction looks like on a number of other buildings our firm has commissioned from the ground up?” He looked up at Charlotte again and found her expression unreadable.

“I have.” When she replied, her tone was crisp, with an edge of defensiveness. “And they’re not the way I work, Mr. Kensley. I don’t favor cookie-cutter designs.”

Well, there it was. She’d laid her cards out on the table - and quite brashly at that.  “Perhaps not cookie cutter…” He replied smoothly, “But something more within the lines of conventionalism?”

Two bright spots of color appeared on the young woman’s cheeks. “Jackson Kensley seemed rather fond of these plans when I sent them to him. Are you suggesting that I redo the entire process?”

Vlad mused quietly for a moment before answering. “Of course not...perhaps merely alter these somewhat so that they’re not so…” He searched for a word to describe what he meant to say.

“Outlandish?” At her flat tone, he looked up to find her all but glaring at him. “Outside-the-box? Unique?”

Vlad wasn’t quite sure how to respond to that. Truthfully, he words echoed precisely what he’d been thinking. However, hard as it might be for him to emote when it came to most people, he’d be a fool to ignore the fact that Charlotte seemed quite perturbed.

No, that wasn’t the right word for it.

She was angry.  “You’re upset with my assessment?”

The young woman took a deep breath, visibly steadying herself before she replied slowly. “I suppose I shouldn’t be, should I? You wouldn’t be the first to think my work strange.”

Vlad leaned over the table, his eyes roving over the plans once more. The design was strange, but he supposed that if he looked hard enough, there was a peculiar kind of beauty to the way it flowed. Certainly not his style - or anything he’s seen the within the company’s repertoire - but something unique and new.

“It is unique…” He ventured, moving his fingertips over the wide, arched atrium where it spread out into the lobby of the first floor, “Perhaps more suited to a museum or a personal residence-”

“Who on earth needs a personal residence this big?” Charlotte’s tone was sharp, and Vlad reacted automatically, his head snapping up to gaze at her in thinly veiled warning. Charlotte, however, wasn’t cowed. “Your father cited that he wanted the design for his newest company building, not for his own use, sir.” The hard edge she placed on the title made him frown. “Do you mean to argue with his decision?”

She was challenging him.

Despite his rather mild demeanor, he did not like to be challenged when his business was involved. Vladimir knew very well that his father had chosen this design, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t discuss why he had done so. Especially if it meant making sure that the company didn’t spend millions on a structure that wouldn’t serve their needs as well as something more...contemporary.

“Not argue,” he returned, his voice equally as hard as hers, “Discuss, perhaps. I believe that my father always puts the wellbeing of the firm first. There must be some explanation for this.” If he had been dancing the thin line between courtesy and insult before, now Vlad overtook it before he noticed.

“This,” Charlotte hissed, clearly incensed, “Is my work. It’s what your father chose. If it’s not to your liking, feel free to discuss with him however long you like.” With that, she leaned over the desk and gathered her plans quickly before placing them back into her briefcase. The clasps snapped closed with a finality that echoed around the room. “Just let me know when we’ll be breaking ground. Have a wonderful day, Mr. Kensley.” With that cool dismissal, she turned on her heel and marched out of his office.

That’s right, she had been in his domain - so why did he feel like the one who had lost?

For a long moment, Vlad stared after her, completely and totally flummoxed. He wasn’t one inclined to obscenities, but he found himself wondering what the almighty fuck had just happened.

He expected the meeting to go somewhat smoother than this - that he would look over the plans, maybe suggest a few tweaks here and there, and that would be that - but what Charlotte had shown him challenged the boundaries of what he was willing to support. If what he had seen was a measure of her caliber of work then she was a singular artist, that was to be certain.

He supposed that it made sense that an artist would be sensitive about her work.

Very sensitive.

Sinking back down in his chair, Vladimir drew his hands heavily over his face as he replayed the meeting again and again in his mind. Charlotte had, no doubt, come here hoping to receive approval from the man set to be the building manager for the project - and he, in his honesty, had given her anything but.

Was he really to be faulted for that? Over his years working at Kensley Enterprises, Vladimir had always been taught to follow his instincts - that one should only take risks if the rewards were potentially greater than the loss. When he looked at the plans Charlotte set before him, he saw a huge risk and little reward to be had. Surely she could understand that?

The mere notion made him frown.

Could she even begin to see things the same way he did? This woman who had saved him from a horde of media like he was some kind of damsel in distress? Whose beauty was wild and untamed one moment and just as alluringly subdued the next?

Charlotte Gardner was an enigma that kept him guessing - the first he’d ever been this interested in. And despite the fact that Vlad thought he’d made the right decision to talk to his father concerning the plans she’d made, he felt guilty about the way he’d spoken to her.

He considered himself a thick-skinned person - there were few outside his family that could elicit a genuine emotional response from him. He’d known Charlotte Gardner for all of forty-eight hours and, somehow, he knew that he’d offended her on a personal level.

And he didn’t like it.

Reaching into the top drawer of his desk, he extracted a number of documents that he meant to sign off on before his next appointment - but, somehow, switching gears wasn’t as easy as it normally was for him. He could barely read a single sentence before Charlotte’s outraged expression wormed its way back to the forefront of his mind.

He supposed that he should call his father sooner than later - just to be sure that the older man’s decision was concrete.

When he reached for the phone, however, Vlad found himself dialing his youngest brother’s number instead. He felt as if he hadn’t spoken to Lucas in ages, even though he was at their building in Manhattan almost constantly. While Vladimir had always had a relatively clear vision of what he meant to do in life - even if he questioned its validity - Lucas had spent a lifetime searching for his calling. He had shadowed each of his older brothers in an attempt to find if their positions appealed to him - and if, indeed, he desired a place in the firm at all. Their mother always told him that it would be no hardship if he didn’t end up at Kensley Enterprises, and Lucas seemed to take it personally.

Though he, more than anyone else, wanted to be of use to the firm, he seemed the least fit for it. The company didn’t bring fulfillment to him like it did to his brothers.

But, perhaps that was because Lucas had never been a man of facts and figures. He was a people person - and dealing with those around him in the most surprisingly astute ways had always been his forte.

When he answered the phone, he sounded no less surprised than Vlad was to be calling him in the first place. “Vlad? Wow...aren’t you supposed to be in LA? How are you?” Vladimir could picture him - not yet in his thirties, every bit as pale and fair-haired as you might imagine someone of English origin to be. Like his brothers, he still had traces of an accent. The more emotional he was, the more obtrusive his speech pattern.

“Alright, Lucas. How’ve you been getting on?”

There was a slight pause before the younger man answered him. “I get the feeling you wouldn’t be calling me if there was nothing wrong.”

Christ almighty. It didn’t matter how long it had been since he had last talked to one of his brothers, they tended to be able to read him instantly. Was he that predictable?  “I... I’m sorry, Lucas. I know I should call more.”

“Don’t worry about it. You’re supposed to be our fearless leader,” Lucas chuckled, obviously amused at his embarrassment. “I don’t expect you to check on me every bloody day.”

“Yes, but-”

“Just tell me what you need, Vlad. You can play big brother later.” That made the dark-haired man smile - at least until he remembered why he was calling in the first place. Slowly, his smile faded as he wondered what was the best way to go about posing his question.

“I’m sure father has told you about the building going up in LA,” he stated, as diplomatically as he could. “Have you, by any chance, seen the plans for it?”

“No,” Lucas returned, curiosity coloring his tones, “He’s very adamant about keeping it a secret until the ground breaking.”

“Well,” Vlad blew out a long breath, “I saw them today. And... well...I found them a bit unorthodox.”

There was a beat before Lucas answered carefully. “Isn’t this something you’d be better off discussing with Dad?”

“That’s the thing...I can deal with Dad,” Vlad replied, hesitating slightly before he continued. “It’s this architect I’m worried about. Charlotte Gardner. I was rather...blunt with her. I worry that I might have offended her sensibilities.” That was a delicate way of putting it, if anything. Vlad knew he had pissed her off. He’d be lucky if she ever spoke to him again, which would, of course, promote a wondrous working relationship. “I was wondering if you had any advice. If we’re supposed to be working together, I’d like to avoid tension at any cost.”

Surprisingly, Lucas chuckled in the wake of his question. “You think you hurt her feelings. That’s not like you, Vlad. I thought you crushed and ate the souls of the weak.”

“Not funny,” Vladimir retorted, even as his lips twitched with the threat of a smile. “Even I can reflect and realize that I’ve spoken out of turn.”

“What did you say to her?”

Now that was a complicated question if there ever was one. Vlad contemplated sugar coating things before simply telling Lucas exactly what had happened. That he had called Charlotte’s work unorthodox, more suited to practically everything else than the company’s needs; and then he had promised to speak to their father to ensure that he had chosen the design most in line with the company’s image.

“Wow.” After a beat of silence, Lucas’ incredulous answer made his brother wince. “That’s...well, that’s...Wow.”

“‘Wow’ what?” Vlad demanded, obviously tense.

“Well, let’s see here,” Lucas replied mildly, “You insulted her work, her rationale, Dad’s validity in choosing her design, and her creativity all in one fell swoop. That’s impressive, Vlad.”

The dark-haired man’s stomach twisted in renewed guilt and he groaned lowly. “Is that all?”

“Pretty much, yeah. She’s probably pissed as hell - at the very least.”

No kidding. That he knew. “So, what do I do to fix it?”

Lucas blew out a long breath, contemplating for a moment before he answered. “Well, did you do any research on her or her work before meeting with her?”

Vlad arched a brow at the question. Should he have? He had hoped that he might do so after their meeting, trusting his father’s choice in design. That, he now realized, was a mistake. If he had researched her before their meeting, he might have been better prepared for what he’d seen - less inclined to make rash statements.  “I didn’t.” He admitted reluctantly. “I trusted father’s decision.”

“And I think you should continue to trust it,” Lucas replied mildly. “Dad doesn’t make decisions rashly. There has to be a reason he picked that design, and a reason he picked Charlotte. Might be a good idea to educate yourself on both before the two of you meet up again.”

Indeed. Even though Vlad had every intention of speaking to his father, the more he spoke with Lucas, the more convinced he was that the elder man wasn’t going to bend - which meant that the ground would break on Charlotte’s design sometime in the next two or three weeks.

And he would have to face her again. “Alright. I’ll look her up.”

“See that you do,” Lucas’ tone turned teasing, “Oh, wow. She’s cute. Not your type, surprisingly, but cute.”

Vlad realized that Lucas was doing just what he’d instructed him to do. Usually he would have merely rolled his eyes at the comment, but strangely, he felt something strangely like envy twisting his gut at Lucas’ warm assessment of Charlotte. “Think she likes younger men?”

“You stay your ass in New York,” Vlad growled with surprising conviction, “I’ll handle this.”

“Then handle it,” Lucas returned, obviously pleased with himself. “I have every confidence in you, Vlad.”