Page 4 of Accidental Encounters

3 Rhea

I sprinted—in platform stilettos.

When I was safely in the elevator and the doors were closing, I jammed my finger into the fifth-floor button. Only then did I start breathing with any semblance of normalcy again.

Will this day never end?

I had started the morning with a smile on my lips as the ghost of that kiss played through my mind. Then my reality had been shattered when my meeting had been double booked on purpose for the gain of the seller. And to top it off, the guy who I had been considering asking up to my room one of these nights was one of them. The Livingstons.

The day hadn’t perked back up—and to top it off, thirty minutes ago when I had gone to unwind with some hot yoga in my room before settling in for the evening, I had been stopped in my tracks by the one man who should not have occupied a place in my brain all damn day long.

Now that I was safely stepping out of the elevator and headed back to my room, I could feel the heat on my face cooling. Unfortunately, the tingle between my thighs was only growing stronger and would be a full blown ache if I didn’t do anything to relieve the need—because there was no way in hell the guy I had left at the bar was going to help me with that now.

Just as I let myself into my room the one person that could bring down my hormones and quell my tumultuous feelings called my phone.

“Hi, Sweetie, how did the meeting with Mr. Fields go? You emailed, but Nora only filled me in on the bullet points,” my father informed me. “I want to hear from you, what was your impression?”

Sure. This might just be a friendly call from a father to his daughter. But if I ever wanted to be more than just the boss’ kid, I had to handle situations like this as a professional. “It went really well, Baba. Mr. Fields is eager to sell just as we had determined. We are not, however, the only competition.”

“Oh?” my father interjected.

I could tell from his tone that he was coddling me. So I made a snap decision. I committed the sin of omission: “The other interested parties are confidential, but it is clear that there will be a bidding war and we might overpay.”I didn’t tell him I had discovered one of the confidential parties.

“Do your best, Rhea.” My father muffled the phone to speak to someone else.

When he returned, I could hear the other person chuckling. The bastards! The good-old-boys club members were mocking me. Squeezing my eyes closed, I reminded myself that I knew this going into the acquisition. I knew that I was given easy work, because they didn’t think me capable of doing anything difficult.

“There is a charity gala this weekend at the Frist in Nashville,” my father informed me. “I will be arriving Saturday afternoon and would love the pleasure of accompanying you.”

I froze. Baba was coming here. To check up on me.

“I hardly think I need a—”

“Nonsense, it will be my pleasure,” my father interrupted. “We haven’t spent much time together since you returned from Japan, and consider this an inspection of Capitoline Foods’ Nashville start-up.”

“So this has nothing to do with the acquisition?” I hedged.

The pleasant veneer dropped, and the tone became quite serious as my father said, “Mr. Fields is a patron of the arts. One of his favorite artists is auctioning a collection and I will personally be purchasing a piece as a gift. The gesture of good will is going to be stronger coming from the head of the household, not the representative.”

Not the female heiress, I mentally amended. There was the sore spot—it had been poked again. Oh my dear old father thought he was so modern letting his daughter work for him.

It will be okay! I tried to mentally cheer myself. I had an actual inkling of a plan, so I bit my tongue and didn’t add fuel to the fire.

“Any preference on the color of my gown?” I asked, then winced as the sigh of his approval came through the phone. I had taken my place and pleased him—for the moment. I needed to gain some time.

“Something regal: gold or silver.” It was an odd choice for him, but after a few more pleasantries we disconnected the call.

I almost threw my phone at the wall. Almost.

The only thing stopping me was my plan. Karter Livingston would be my ticket to acquiring WRX Distributions and gaining recognition with my father. If I could go head to head with our enemy and best them—this was a good gesture and it would help to make my father see me as the best choice to run the company someday.

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