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I rose from my chair, smoothing the front of my tailored dress. “Right this way, Mr. Kowalski,” I said with a polite smile, gesturing toward the door.

He followed me into the hallway, where the scent of lemon polish and cigarette smoke hung in the air. I walked a half-step ahead, the click of my heels punctuating the tense silence.

As we waited for the elevator, Mr. Kowalski shifted his weight from foot to foot, clutching his rolled-up plans to his chest like a shield. He shot me a sidelong glance.

“Your boss is a real shark, isn’t he?” he muttered, dabbing at his forehead with his handkerchief.

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean,” I answered demurely, my expression carefully masked.

The elevator doors slid open, and he got in.

I smiled sweetly. “Thank you for your visit.”

The doors slid closed, and I let out a sigh.

“How badly did that one sweat?” Mrs. Miller piped up from behind the reception desk as she checked her pink nail polish for chips.

I walked over to her, the scent of her perfume—something floral and powdery—enveloping me as I approached. She glanced up from her nails, her glassy green eyes sparkling with mirth.

“Oh, he was practically drowning,” I said, leaning against the polished wood of her desk. “I thought I was going to have to mop up after him.”

She let out a tinkling laugh, her pink-painted lips curving into a knowing smile.

I sighed, glancing back toward the conference room. “Are all the meetings so…intense?” I asked.

“These big-shot developers think they can waltz in here and charm their way into a deal.” She shook her head. “But Mr. Cardello is on top for a reason.”

“Yeah, I’m gathering that.”

The telephone rang, and she reached for the receiver, giving me a polite smile and nod.

I tucked my notebook under my arm and returned to my desk.

My mind replayed the meeting—the way Victor commanded the room, the sharpness of his gaze, and the subtle danger that laced his every word.

There was something thrilling about being in his presence, like standing on the edge of a cliff, the simultaneous pull of fear and exhilaration.

The door to Victor’s office was open, and I peeked my head inside. “Would you like me to type up my notes?”

“Eventually, yes,” he answered, leaning back in his leather chair. “But I’d like to hear your take first.”

“My take?”

“Yes.” He motioned to the empty twin chairs in front of his desk.

I tentatively entered the room and sat on the edge of one of the chairs, the cushion stiff beneath me. I smoothed my skirt over my knees and crossed my ankles.

“Well,” I began, choosing my words carefully, “I think the project is a good idea. There is a lot of expansion into the suburbs right now, and it makes sense to jump on that bandwagon.”

Victor nodded, his dark eyes fixed on mine. “But?”

I hesitated, biting my lower lip. “It’s not my place.”

A smile played at the corners of his mouth. “I insist. I want to know what you think.”

I let out a controlled breath. “To be perfectly honest, I don’t like the guy.”

Victor leaned forward and rested his elbows on the desk. “Go on,” he encouraged, his dark eyes glinting with interest.

I shifted in my seat, the leather creaking softly beneath me.

“He just seems…slimy. The way he wouldn’t stand on the merits of his own proposal.

At the first sign of challenge, he changed his tune to tell you exactly what he thought you wanted to hear.

” I didn’t say it aloud, but I mentally added the unsavory way he looked at me.

I shook my head, a shudder of revulsion running through me at the memory. “I don’t trust him.”

Victor’s smile widened, transforming his face from handsome to devastatingly so. “You have good instincts, Barbara. I don’t trust him either.”

My heart fluttered at his praise as a warm flush crept up my neck. “Thank you, sir.”

“Victor,” he corrected.

“Victor.” I nodded. “But if you don’t trust him, why are you considering doing business with him?”

He leaned further across the table. “I’m not.”

I blinked, confusion crossing my features. “But…the meeting, the negotiations…”

Victor laughed, the sound sonorous and rich. “It’s all part of the game, Barbara. Let him think he has a chance. Let him sweat and squirm. Most importantly, let him do all the legwork.”

I tilted my head, trying to wrap my mind around his strategy. “So you’re letting him think there’s a deal on the table even though you have no intention of following through?”

Victor leaned back in his chair. “Precisely. Let him run around—gather data, crunch numbers, sweeten the pot. He’ll bring me a much better proposal, thinking it’s his last shot to win me over.”

I couldn’t help but smile, impressed by Victor’s shrewdness. “And then you’ll turn him down flat.”

“Precisely.” Victor’s eyes glinted with satisfaction. “And in the meantime, I’ll have all the information I need to move forward with the project on my own terms. If I decide it’s worth pursuing at all.”

“And do you think it is?”

He studied me carefully. “I’m far more interested in what you think.”

“I can’t imagine why.”

“You don’t see yourself clearly at all, do you? You have a keen mind and a sharp eye. And you’re no bootlicker. You don’t tell me what you think I want to hear.”

My cheeks warmed at his praise, my heart fluttering in my chest.

His dark eyes bored into mine, as if he could see straight into my soul. “So tell me, do you think this suburban development is worth pursuing?”

I took a deep breath while I assembled my thoughts. “I think it’s certainly worth considering.”

“Less diplomatic this time, please.”

I met Victor’s penetrating gaze and decided to be fully candid.

“Yes, I think it’s a smart move. The demand is clearly there.

People are eager to escape the city, put down roots, start families.

And they’ll pay handsomely for the privilege.

” I leaned forward slightly, warming to the subject.

“But if you want them to pay, it can’t just be rows of carbon-copy houses.

It needs to be a community, a lifestyle.

The commercial center was a good idea—one-stop shopping, entertainment, dining.

Make it easy. Make it convenient. Make it attractive. ”

Victor nodded, a glimmer of approval in his eyes. “Go on.”

I sat up straighter. “And the location matters. Not just proximity to the city, but the land itself. Rolling hills, nice views, good schools nearby. You’re not just selling houses. You’re selling a dream. A fresh start for growing families. An escape after the insanity of the past two decades.”

A slow smile spread across his face, his eyes alight. “I knew I was right about you.”

“Sir?” I asked, a bit thrown by his reaction.

“Victor,” he corrected again. “And I mean that you have a gift, Barbara. You see what so many of these pompous stuffed shirts miss. And I think you just wrote our marketing campaign.”

Warmth spread from my chest to my cheeks.

It was a novel sensation, having my ideas not only heard but celebrated.

Sought after, even. Frank always nodded absently when I shared my thoughts, his attention more focused on the newspaper or radio.

But Victor—he listened, truly listened. And better still, he seemed to genuinely value what I had to say.

“I’m flattered you think so,” I said, ducking my head slightly to hide my smile.

When I peeked up, Victor’s dark eyes glinted with something I couldn’t quite name. Approval, certainly, but there was a heat there too. An intensity that made me feel seen in a way I never had before. It was thrilling and terrifying in equal measure.

I held Victor’s gaze for a long, charged moment. My heart pounded against my ribs, and my skin tingled with awareness of his presence. I should’ve looked away, broken the moment—it was dangerous to let the connection linger. But I found myself powerless to break the spell.

“I have business across town this afternoon,” he said, finally cutting the silence, his voice smooth as scotch. “But before I go, I have something for you.”

He reached into his desk drawer and pulled out a package wrapped in crisp brown paper tied with a simple string. He held it out to me, his expression inscrutable.

“What’s this?” I asked, hesitating before taking the parcel from his outstretched hand. The paper was smooth and cool beneath my fingertips.

“Call it a hunch,” he said enigmatically as he leaned back in his chair and casually crossed his legs. “Open it.”

Curiosity piqued, I carefully untied the string and unfolded the paper to reveal a red leather-bound sketchbook and a set of pencils.

“I don’t understand,” I murmured, running my fingers reverently over the sketchbook’s supple cover. “Why are you giving me this?”

Victor’s gaze was steady on mine, unwavering in its intensity. “I seem to recall a conversation we had over lunch yesterday. Something about a certain young lady’s ambition for fashion design.”

My breath caught in my throat, my fingers stilling on the buttery-soft leather. He remembered. Amid all his weighty responsibilities and the gravity of his position, he had not only listened to my wistful musings, but he had heard me. Truly heard me in a way no one else ever had.

“Victor, I…” My voice faltered, threatening to crack under the swell of emotion rising in my chest. “I don’t know what to say.” Gratitude, disbelief, and something more profound—more primal—swirled within me.

He stood and buttoned his suit jacket. “You don’t need to say anything.” His voice was soft and intimate. “Just promise me you’ll use it.”

I swallowed hard past the lump in my throat, my fingers curling around the sketchbook like a lifeline. “I will,” I managed. “I promise.”

His lips curved into a smile, warm and genuine.

It transformed his face, softening the hard edges, and I saw a hint of what he must have looked like as a roguish and mischievous boy.

“Good.” He glanced at his watch, a flash of gold against his tanned wrist. “I’m afraid I have to run.

But I’m going to take you on a tour of some of our properties and prospects tomorrow. ”

I stood as he approached me. The air tingled with electricity that intensified the closer he came.

“It’ll give you a better grasp of the business.

” Victor paused before me, standing close enough that heat radiated from his body to mine.

The spicy, woodsy scent of his cologne made my head swim pleasantly.

My heart thudded against my breastbone as I tilted my head back to meet his gaze, my lips parting slightly.

His gaze dipped briefly to my mouth before flicking back up, dark and intense. “Be ready at nine sharp,” he murmured, his voice a low rumble I felt in my bones.

“I will.”

His dark eyes searched mine for a long moment. I stood frozen. I almost thought he would lean in to kiss me.

Then, with a slight nod, he stepped around me and strode toward the door, leaving me bereft and off-kilter in his wake.