Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 78142 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78142 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
It was a strange sensation. Painful, yes. But also…
It was like I felt I was giving him something. Something he needed, and something I needed as well, though I didn’t realize that.
I don’t know what it all means, but I think we both took what we needed last night.
I would’ve liked for it to have lasted longer, but those three orgasms that sent me into a slumber like no other were certainly wonderful.
Ugh. All this time I was so looking forward to this job, so hoping I’d be assigned to this project.
Yesterday, all my dreams seemed to be coming true.
But today…
What am I going to do?
I could ask one of the other architects on the project rather than go straight to the boss.
Yeah, that’s what I’ll do.
I dress quickly today, choosing a black pencil skirt and my black, mid-heel patent-leather pumps.
A crisp white blouse completes the picture. I’m not as comfortable as I was yesterday, but I look a little more professional, and I need to be taken seriously today.
When I walk out my bedroom door and head to the kitchen, I can’t help but notice that Dragon’s door is closed. He’s probably still sleeping. Not that it matters to me. Not that it should, anyway.
I boil some water in the microwave for my French press. Then I add spoonful after spoonful of my special Jamaican Blue Mountain blend. If there was one thing my mother taught all of us, it was to enjoy a cup of strong black coffee.
She’s a coffee snob, and she turned me into one as well.
I pour the boiling water into the pot and let it sit for a moment before slowly pressing the grounds all the way to the bottom.
Then I pour myself a steaming cup.
I take some fruit out of the refrigerator and eat it with my cup of coffee. Then I grab my jacket—black leather blazer—and quietly leave the penthouse to walk to work.
I own a car, and it’s in the garage in the basement of the building, but living and working downtown, I rarely need to use it. I enjoy the walk to work, even in my heels, because it’s not that far. Not as comfortable as the cowboy boots I was raised in, but when I left the ranch behind, I learned to adapt.
When I get to my office, I slide my brand-new ID into the reader in the elevator and go to the top floor.
“Good morning, Ms. Steel,” the receptionist greets me.
“Please, call me Diana.”
“All right. Diana.” She smiles. “How was your first day yesterday? I didn’t see you leave.”
“No, I stayed late. It was good. Thank you for asking.”
She smiles and goes back to work.
I head to my workstation.
I’m trying to decide which of the architects on the project I should approach when one of them walks through my doorway.
“Hey, Diana,” Marcus Luttrell says. “Just so you know, a client sent over a huge spread of bagels and pastries. It’s in the small conference room if you want some.”
“Oh, sounds amazing, but I already ate this morning.”
He laughs, swallowing a bite of bagel. “Hell, so did I. But I never turn down free food.”
I laugh lightly.
Marcus is about to leave, but I stand up. “Marcus, can I ask you something?”
He walks in my office and sits down across my desk. “Shoot.”
I take a seat. “Tell me if I’m being too picky, but I was looking through all the paperwork on the mountaintop project yesterday, and I found something that bothered me.”
He cocks his head. “What’s that?”
“One of the pipelines.” I pull out the blueprint and trace my finger along the proposed pipeline. “Maybe I’m reading the design wrong, but it seems to be a little too close to one of the—”
He gestures me to stop talking as he swallows another bite of bagel. “I know what you’re talking about. Ledbetter and I have had words about it. Then I was told to shut up.”
I frown. “So you agree with me. It could be a problem.”
“I did some research on it.” He looks over his shoulder and lowers his voice. “Yeah, it could be a problem. But it probably won’t be.”
I gesture to the pencil tracing I made yesterday. “But with some minor adjustments we could eliminate the possibility altogether.”
He holds up a hand. “I know. But those adjustments will increase the budget by about two million dollars, Diana. And that’s the problem.”
“I don’t think the firm is hurting for money,” I say.
He presses his lips together. “No, but the more money the firm has, the better our bonuses are at the end of the year.”
“Marcus, this is a huge project. People will be paying top dollar to go to this mountaintop resort for the time of their lives. They deserve to be safe and comfortable.”
“And they most likely will be.”