“Nothing urgent, but the secretary of the museum’s board of directors called first thing this morning to ask that you and Mr. Richardson attend an extraordinary board meeting in three weeks’ time.”

Grimacing instinctively, I frown as I take the stack of papers from her. Confident in our concept and the building’s redesign we had signed off on the week before, I’m perplexed yet intrigued by the out of the blue request.

“Why are they calling an extraordinary meeting? We’re not due to meet them for another month.

“They wouldn’t say except that matters have arisen that need urgent discussion,” she explains.

“Is Grant aware of this?” I ask her as I walk into my office, her footsteps following behind me.

“He hasn’t made it to the office yet,” she replies quickly, as I round my desk and take a seat in my high-backed leather chair. Placing my coffee on my desk, Annie steps back and stands up straight in front of me, waiting for her next instruction.

“Okay. I’ll see him when he arrives, and we’ll get back to you to confirm.”

“Is there anything else I can help you with, Mr. Alexander?” she asks.

“That is all.” I bend down to the floor and I pull my laptop from my leather satchel, placing it in the docking station and powering it up before returning my attention to the stack of messages now sitting in front of me.

“I’m okay, thanks Annie,” I reply before she turns and leaves.

Flicking through the pile of mail on my desk, I come across confirmation of our suite for the children’s hospital charity baseball match next Saturday afternoon. Another event to be seen at—another instance where my mask of happiness, contentment and fulfillment, will be in place. Grant will be there with whichever female with legs, ass, a great rack, and a willing demeanor catches his eye for the week, and I’ll be going solo. Or do I . . .

My mind drifts to our dinner a few nights before. To Lucia.

What is it about this woman that keeps her forefront in my mind? Since meeting her, I’ve taken myself in hand, fantasizing over her eyes, her warm sultry smile, her curves, those legs . . . fuck! Even now I’m getting hard at the mere thought of having her, taking her, doing everything and anything I want to her.

Running my hands over my face and through my hair, I will my mind and my cock to calm down just as Grant walks in. He’s frowning, and I can tell with just one look that he’s pissed off.

“What the hell is this shit about meeting with the museum board again? They signed off on the blueprints last week.” He flops down in the chair opposite me with a sigh.

“I’m not sure, but no doubt we’ll find out at the meeting. They don’t have time to pussy foot around though. If they have questions, we answer them. If they want changes, we accommodate them. Whatever they want, as long as it works within the confines of the concept, we’ll work our asses off to meet their new requirements, if there are any, and deliver the design they want”

“For a fee of course,” he adds.

“Agreed.”

“So you’ll make the call or will I?” he asks, leaning forward in his chair.

“I’ll get Annie to confirm our attendance. Whatever it is, we’ll deal with it. We always do, don’t we?” I ask with a raised brow, knowing that together we can solve any problem that comes our way.

“Always. Anyway, nice chat. I’m going to just run over the plans again, see if anything jumps out at me.” He stands and walks toward the door, stopping just as he opens it. “You thought more about the restaurant owner?”

“Lucia?” I feign surprise, although the amusement I see dancing in his eyes tells me he isn’t buying my attempt at bullshit.

“Yes, Lu-ci-a. Such a beautiful name. Would sound fantastic rolling off your tongue as you—”

“Grant,” I growl.

“Knew it. You’re so fucking easy, Cal. Just call the damn woman. Ask her to accompany you to the game. Nothing too serious, but it shows you’re interested. Even if you can’t admit it to yourself.” He winks and steps out of my office, closing the door behind him with a laugh. Smug bastard.

“Santorino’s, you’ve got Lucia.” Her distinguishable melodic voice is light and energetic, almost as much as the woman behind it.

“Lucia, it’s Callum Alexander.” My voice is strong, even and steady, despite my heart threatening to beat out of my chest. Grant would have a field day with this.

“Oh hello, Mr. Alexander.” Her voice warms, and I’m pleased that it’s the only noticeable change. “Were you wanting to make a booking?”

“Call me Callum, please. But no booking just yet. We’ll definitely be coming back; the food was amazing.”

“I’m glad you enjoyed yourself. So how may I be of service?”

So many ways in which she could service me flash before my eyes, causing a groan to escape my throat.

“Callum?” she asks with amusement. “I thought I heard a groan. Are you okay?”

“Yes . . .” I clear my throat, my voice now carrying a timbre of rough sandpaper. “I wanted to say it was great seeing you again.” Smelling you, touching you, the feeling of your skin under my lips when I kissed your cheek, all of it doing things to me that should be illegal. These are the things I want to say.

“It was good to see you, too. I never imagined you’d walk into my restaurant. I know that you’re a very busy man.” Her words come thick and fast, almost as if she’s nervous. It’s a complete turnaround from her vivacious conversation at dinner.

“There was a reason for my call.”

“Do tell, Callum,” she replies cheerfully. If ever I could sense a smile over a phone line, it would be now.

“I wanted to ask if you’d accompany me to a charity baseball game for the children’s hospital next weekend. I’d love it if you could join me.” Her breath catches and my racing heart suddenly stops dead in the few moments of silence that stretch out between us. I wait for anything resembling a response from her.

“Hmm. Next weekend you say. I’ll have to check my super busy social calendar and let you know.” Hearing the teasing tone in her voice, I start to breathe again. I’ve never been this nervous before. What is so different this time?

“I’ll understand if you have already made other arrangements.” I switch into self-preservation mode, giving her the option to politely decline my invitation.

“Callum, I was just messing around. I definitely don’t have other plans. In fact, I have next weekend off and I’d love to come with you.”

Without realizing it, I’m grinning down the phone. “That’s fantastic, Lucia. I know we don’t know each other all that well and this invitation must seem like it has come out of the blue, but . . .” I pause, making an off-the-cuff decision to be honest with her. Starting off as I intend to continue. “I’d like to get to know you better.”

“Well, the feeling is mutual, Callum. I have a feeling there is a lot more to you than meets the eye. And I’d love to find out exactly what lies beneath your armor.”

“Just my armor?” I say without thinking.

“For now . . .” she replies wryly.

Leaning back in my chair, I cross my legs and rest them against my desk. I spin around to look at the framed photograph of the Spera building in Boston. The building that started it all.

“Interesting.” My voice is low and jagged, as if I’ve spent a night indulging in top shelf whisky and Cuban cigars. “Although I must say, anything more than meets the eye would usually include things typically inappropriate for a first date, don’t you think?”

“So it’s not just that I’m graciously accompanying you to this event then? It’s a first date?” she replies, not missing a beat, making me laugh.

“I wouldn’t want to mislead you, Lucia. This will definitely be a date. There will be small talk, awkward silences, and more than likely some inappropriate thoughts that we will want to verbalize but, due to social convention, we will refrain from doing so. I will pick you up from your door and will no doubt subtly peruse your body while politely commenting on how beautiful you look.” I fall quiet as I enjoy the imagery my words have created. “We’ll walk the red carpet together, the palm of my hand resting in a polite manner on your lower back at a very appropriate level before making our way to my company’s luxury suite where we will enjoy food and wine both before, during, and after watching the game. Then, no doubt, I’ll accompany you home before giving you a polite, acceptable kiss on the cheek with promises to call you the next day. Does that sum up an acceptable first date?”