I sat at the table, sipping the coffee Sloane had brought me and keeping my eye out at the counter for her to come back. I had noticed how she’d looked at me when she’d first seen me, the same way I had been undoubtedly looking at her—with plain interest and attraction, as well as a little shyness on her part. I was never shy—it wasn’t in my nature—but the pink flush on her cheeks when she got flustered speaking to me lit up her face, making her look even more beautiful than she already was. Sloane was gorgeous and petite, probably almost a foot shorter than me, with dark hair that curled around her shoulders, and soft, pale brown eyes. I had trouble looking away from her as I was speaking to her, and I could tell that she was having the same problem.

I watched her emerge from the back, her eyes not meeting mine as she came back into the store. She was looking decidedly away from me, though at times I would catch her looking, just briefly catch her eye, and smile at her before she looked away. It made me wonder if she was shy in other ways, in other places, if she’d have that same look on her face while I undressed her. She seemed like it would take some convincing to get her into my hands, but I had decided the moment I’d seen her that I had to try.

When I was finished with my cinnamon roll and coffee, I brought the dishes back up to the counter and put them down. Sloane looked up at me, and I smiled at her, making her blush again. I loved that I was making her so nervous by just looking at her and wondered if I was affecting her in other ways.

“Sloane,” I said. She parted her lips to speak to me, and I couldn’t help but to glimpse at them, noting how full they were, how soft and pink and pretty. “I can’t believe I’ve never been here before.”

“Now you have,” she said, smiling at me. “Did you like it?”

“I’ve enjoyed myself very much,” I said, holding her view. There was something bewitching about her gaze, how it was sweet but bold at the same time. I could tell there was a fire behind that shy expression, and I badly wanted to see it, to get to know the private side of her. I wondered how she would look opened up to me completely, and see who she really was outside of the bakery.

“Good,” she said, dragging her teeth across her bottom lip. It was then that someone came into the bakery behind me, and Sloane glanced over my shoulder.

“Thank you again,” I said, winking at her when she caught my gaze. She blushed again and I grinned as I turned around and made my way out of the bakery. I walked down the block a bit and got into my car, only then remembering that I’d forgotten to drop my business card off with Sloane for her to give to Henry Wright, the owner of the bakery. I had been so distracted by the girl that I had completely forgotten why I’d gone to the bakery in the first place. I sighed, shaking my head and laughing at myself—I wasn’t usually so unfocused around women, but there had been something about Sloane that had gotten under my skin the moment I’d looked into those gorgeous brown eyes.

I started my car and pulled away from the curb, driving through town and looking around as I did so. I loved looking at the old buildings and envisioning what could be. Real estate development wasn’t just my job; it was my creative passion. My latest project was the biggest yet, and sometimes I feared I had taken on more than I could handle. But every time I doubted myself, I’d remember the twenty-three investors I’d brought in on the deal and told myself that losing their money was not an option. I had been in real estate since I’d graduated from college and had started from nowhere, managing to build my small company into a multibillion-dollar international success. I hadn’t gotten there without a few bumps in the road, but if I’d learned anything from my father, it was that I could fight through anything and win. I had to. My father had never accepted anything less.

I got back to the office a few hours later, ignoring my messages and instead leaning back in my chair. Sloane was on my mind still, something that surprised me. Pretty women were a dime a dozen, a renewable resource that I could get my hands on whenever I wanted. Still, even as I thought through the list of women I could call to keep me company tonight, the only person in my head right now was the shy girl behind the register I’d met at the bakery earlier. I decided that I would go in the next day and bring her my card—it would give me an excuse to see her again, perhaps ask her out. Though I knew it probably wasn’t a good idea to get involved with someone in the middle of a big deal, I found I couldn’t get the idea of taking Sloane out, kissing her, or taking her clothes off, out of my mind. 

I tried to distract myself by going through the paperwork from the other sales in the neighborhood, noting there were only three more buildings to sign contracts on, including the bakery. That deal was different, though, because of the complications that my lawyer had come across. A few more steps I’d have to take, but nothing I couldn’t handle. I had closed on most of the deals myself—though other men of my position in the company would gladly hand over those meetings to other employees, I had always been hands-on with my business and always would be. I liked the thrill of the negotiation, the feeling of taking over a place piece by piece until the land was mine to do with as I pleased. It was like playing a game, developing something new in a place that hadn’t been revitalized in too long. The phone rang and I picked it up off my desk.

“How’d it go, Reid?” It was Allan Dane, my lead investor. He was anxious to get the project started. “Did you get it done?”

“The Ruske property is complicated, Allan. I’m trying to find a way to do it simply—that takes time.”

“Bullshit. It’s not complicated, but you are insisting on making it complicated. A contract is a contract, and if people don’t keep up their end, there’s a price to pay. That’s business.”

“Business indeed, but these are people’s lives here. I just need two more days and it will all be taken care of.”

“Fine. I’ll give you one day, and then I’m taking it into my own hands. Me and the other investors are losing money every day you pussyfoot around the issue here.”

“I’ll get it done,” I said before I realized he had already hung up. Allan was an old friend of mine but a shrewd businessman. I knew he was serious and so I’d have to get my part done by tomorrow.

––––––––

I WENT HOME EARLY THAT day, deciding to spend the night alone instead of calling a friend or a girl to come over and keep me company. My head was spinning with the numbers, thinking about the project, Sloane, the bakery. I spent the night reading but couldn’t really focus on my book. I was too distracted, so I got dressed at around midnight and went for a run around my neighborhood, allowing the chilly air to clear my thoughts and prepare me for the next few days of getting through the contracts.

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