Ashton Scott

He shakes my hand. “Lorelei.”

No smile.

No pleasantries.

Just one word.

But hot damn if that one word didn’t slide through his lips like sugar. His voice is a God-given gift; one I’m sure could cause a woman an unhealthy addiction.

My brain misfires and I hold his hand longer than I intended. It’s not until he finally lets my hand go that I realise this.

“Sorry!” I say in more of a shriek than my preferred business voice. “Would you like a tea or coffee?” I am so damn flustered that I have no clue what might come out of my mouth next.

The corner of his mouth twitches. “No, thank you.” He takes charge of the meeting—because clearly I’m in no shape to do this—and indicates for me to take a seat.

The office I share with Sienna is a room we’ve rented off a friend on his company premises. It’s a modern space rather than a traditional business office. We have one large round glass table that we both work at in the centre of the room. There is usually a large vase of flowers in the middle of the table, but being Monday, neither of us has filled the vase yet. Cream paint on the walls is covered by a selection of art prints we love, including a large canvas I painted with some of our favourite inspirational quotes. A floor-to-ceiling window takes up one wall and we’ve hung a sheer, pale pink curtain that allows light to filter through.

Ashton takes the seat right next to me. His leg brushes against mine as he leans forward to speak.

Damn you, round table.

I should never have convinced Sienna to get this table.

“I heard you were selling the building you own,” he says. “I’ve come to make you an offer.”

My business senses finally kick in. “Which one?” I only own one building, but he doesn’t need to know that.

He quirks a brow. “The one on Willow Street.”

He totally knows I’m lying. But he’s humouring me. I’m not sure which is worse.

“No, it isn’t for sale.” My grandmother would roll over in her grave if I sold the building she left me when she died.

His lips pinch together. “I’ve heard it is.”

How strange. I wouldn’t have thought the building he’s referring to would even be on his radar. Ashton is a property developer who deals in high-end properties from what I understand. My building doesn’t fit into that category at all. And it’s definitely not for sale.

“I think perhaps whoever told you that has mixed up the information. There are three shops in my building and one has just come up for lease, but the building isn’t for sale.”

“The person who told me never mixes up their information, Lorelei.” The sugar disappears from his voice and it’s clear I’ve said something he doesn’t like.

I straighten in my seat, slightly annoyed at the tone he’s taking with me. “I’m not sure who you’ve been getting your news from, but I can assure you it’s wrong.” I remove the friendliness from my voice to match his.

His gaze remains steady on me and it’s only because I’m watching him so closely that I see the tiny flare of his eyes. He seems shocked, but I’m not sure at what. That his information is wrong? Or, that I had the gall to tell him that? I bet Ashton Scott is used to always having the right information.

“Lorelei, I’m not a man to be screwed with. If you’re trying to play me to get more money out of this deal from the other party, I’ll make you regret that.”

Whoa.

My hangover collides with the anger bubbling up at his threat. Standing, I say, “You can leave now. I don’t appreciate you asking for a meeting and then coming here and threatening me. I’m not a woman who lies about anything. You want to know something from me? Straight up ask me and I’ll give you an honest answer. When I tell you that my building is not for sale, you can be assured that it’s not for sale. And I don’t respond well to intimidation. You can take your threat and go back to whoever fed you this bullshit and tell them to get their facts straight. And I would suggest hiring more capable staff.”

My pulse beats hard and fast as I catch my breath.

How dare he come here and insinuate I’m a money-grabber? Or, that I would lie?

He stands, his gaze still pinned to mine. His jaw clenches as he stares at me with infuriation. “This isn’t the end of this. I want that building and I always get what I want.”

No more words are exchanged before he stalks out of my office.