Chapter 2
“That information can be obtained.”
“That’s exactly the problem.”
She gestured toward the office.
“You have assistants, security people, and enough money to close a restaurant for the night. But spending time with someone isn’t a business deal.”
For once, he had no immediate response.
Claire softened.
“Look, Dominic. If you genuinely want me to spend two hours with you, give me a reason I’d want to spend two hours with you.”
He regarded her seriously.
“What would that reason be?”
“You.”
The answer appeared to confuse him more than any financial dispute ever had.
“Me?”
“The person. Not the chairman. Not the man who owns half the city. Just you.”
Dominic stared at her.
Claire picked up her pen again.
“Now, if you’ll excuse me, someone in accounting has apparently decided that overtime is a fictional concept.”
She returned to her spreadsheet.
Dominic remained standing there another moment.
Then he walked away.
Daniel met him beside the elevator.
“How did it go?”
Dominic stared straight ahead.
“She wants me to offer myself.”
Daniel considered that.
“That sounds promising.”
“I have absolutely no idea what it means.”
For the first time in nearly twenty years, Daniel Mercer had to turn away to hide a smile.
That Friday, forty-eight red roses arrived at Claire’s desk.
They came in four enormous arrangements.
The deliveryman required a second trip.
By the time the last vase arrived, half the office had gathered to watch.
Claire stared at the flowers.
Then at Dominic, who had appeared near the elevator.
“Did somebody die?”
Daniel made a strangled noise.
Dominic frowned.
“You said you wanted something normal.”
“Forty-eight roses is normal?”
“I was advised women appreciate flowers.”
Claire looked at Daniel.
He cleared his throat.
“I suggested flowers. We did not discuss quantity.”
Claire covered her mouth.
Dominic looked between them.
“Something funny?”
“No,” she said, visibly struggling. “Nothing at all.”
But when she began laughing, genuinely and helplessly, Dominic found himself smiling.
He had spent years watching people laugh at his jokes because they were afraid not to.
Claire Morgan was laughing because he had made a complete fool of himself.
And somehow, that felt better.
Later that afternoon, the roses were distributed among the reception area, employee break rooms, and a nearby assisted-living facility.
Claire kept one.
A single red rose in a chipped coffee mug beside her keyboard.
She told herself it was because the flower was pretty.