Page 1 of Ruthless Financier
Chapter 1
Indigo
I, Indigo Steel, never believed in romance or love or any of that nonsense. I knew better. I thought my sisters all thought the same thing.
Until Georgie married her baseball player without inviting me to her wedding last week.
Through a strange twist, here I was, in Vegas, staying in the same hotel, to meet a client for work. And I wanted to stroll past the wedding pavilion my sister had sent pictures from of her elopement.
Georgie had always been the emotional one in the family—though the vow to never get married had been her idea.
Another of my sisters, Stephanie, had also decided to forget that discussion, apparently, because she was planning her wedding. At least I was invited to London for that one.
For now, I made it to the gondola rides in the Venetian hotel and watched all the couples kissing.
Gross. Public displays of affections really needed to stay behind closed doors. Yeah, I get it. I was born in the wrong century. But whenever I checked my phone and remembered how much I enjoyed technology, I knew I’d never want to live at another time.
I guess what bothered me about seeing couples on the boats kiss each other was that they were obviously both pretending not to see that we’re all flawed and imperfect and there are no soulmates.
Love wasn’t real. It was a justification for lust to be socially acceptable to our peers. My phone beeped and I read the message:I’ll meet you in an hour.
Perfect. My team was great. We’d win this client and head back to Pittsburgh right away. My boss was going to retire, and if I won this client, I’d be the CEO of the entire advertising company.
I’d also be the youngest CEO ever and the first woman. Goals I’d check off my list of accomplishments. I could handle this. I typed a reply as I walked away from the silly water ride.We can’t do anything until the client arrives. If Mr. Ruthless shows early, I need you back as soon as possible.
Before any meeting, I always took a short walk. It helped me clear my head and focus on my pitch, but I wrote back,If he shows up early, I’ll text you 911.
I headed into the square that was designed to be like St. Mark’s square in Venice. It was full of people, just like my experience in the real place, but half of the tourists here had the glazed eyes that came from spending too many hours gambling.
As for the square itself, though, all that was lacking were the Italian guys serenading my American face as I walked down the street.
In six months my sister would be getting married and I’d head to London for that. Maybe I’d also return to the real Italy and score anothergelatowhile I checked in on one of my clients there.
I also missed that smell of the water and old city that Vegas could never recreate.
A deep voice called out behind me, “Hello, beautiful.”
I turned on my high heels and stared at a dark-haired handsome man with a wicked smile.
Now fuck. He’d be up for the perfect man in my next fantasy life, when I was safe in bed, alone. For now, I was happy he was five feet away and in the doorway of the café, as people who seemed almost blurry passed in front of him. Wide shoulders, muscles and a dimple made the man hypnotizing. I placed my hand on my hip and said, “Sorry. What did you say?”
I wasn’t sorry at all and I had heard him clearly enough. He thought I was pretty. But I wasn’t interested.
Then he took a step closer to me and adrenaline rushed through me as he said, “You’re perfect, I think.”
Walk now, my mind screamed, but goosebumps grew on my body and desire overtook me fast. I ignored the sensation as well as I could and asked, “For what?”
He perused my body and my black-with-green-trim business suit as he said, “For my need of a wife.”
I laughed. Now that was the funniest thing I’d ever heard. Me, a wife. Once I caught my breath, I realized those brown eyes of his were almost magnetic. I shook my head. “Wow. Just like that? You don’t know anything about me.”
He took my hand. “I have an instinct. And you’re sexy as hell.”
My makeup was to impress my client, not this man who sent a thrill up my arm from a simple touch. “Well, I haven’t heard flirting in awhile. If you keep talking like that, I’ll sit for a minute.”
He walked me into the cafe with him and said, “Then let’s get you a drink.”
This was all nonsense, but soon real life would barge in. I was here in Vegas to reform a bad boy businessman who’d pay for a corporate makeover. And while this man was attractive, who the fuck knew if he was a psycho or something equally bad? I went with him to his table with the white cloth, near the window to the square, and said, “No drinking for me. I have to meet a client.”
