Why was she so afraid of seeing Richard Emerson again? They hadn’t seen each other since high school. Surely they’d both grown up enough to leave unpleasantness behind. But the stakes were high now, at least for her. Richard was her last chance. She’d been standing before his office door for five full minutes and had yet to garner the courage to knock.
Before she could chicken out once more, she took a deep breath, rapped on the closed door three times and stepped back. She tugged at her navy skirt and matching jacket, hoping she looked professional. She needed him to take her seriously.
“Come in,” a deep voice intoned, and she turned the knob. It was slippery in her palm and she exhaled, trying but failing to calm the nerves bouncing around in the pit of her stomach.
Stepping into the office, she saw him sitting in a seating area on the left. Richard, severe and imposing, was ensconced in a comfortable blue chair, files before him on a glass-topped, round table.
“I’ll be right with you,” he said without looking up.
She couldn’t help but stare. Where was the lanky, nerdy boy she remembered? The man with the thick file before him wasn’t the math geek she’d known all those years ago. His hair was rich and black with a hint of natural curl, and the sleeves of his dress shirt were rolled back to reveal strong forearms sprinkled with dark hair. Her eyes widened and pulse quickened at the sight of the man he’d become.
She forced herself to divert her attention to his office and was further discomfited by the startling neatness and the precision of organization. Honeyed hardwood covered the floors. A gigantic bookshelf covered one wall, each book spine lined up neatly. There was a beige file cabinet to one side, a smooth mahogany desk and a plush leather chair empty behind it. Everything was in an exact place. She wagered if she asked him where his extra staples were, he’d pull them out of a slot made specifically for that very purpose. All indications pointed to an orderly, analytical mind. In that way, she supposed, he hadn’t changed a bit.
She heard the file close.
“Sorry about that, Miss…”
“Katie—”
He turned his head. “Buick,” he finished, his lips curving up a bit in surprised recognition. “My God. It really is you. Dad said you might be dropping by.”
“Yes, on business.”
She wiped her hands on her skirt again, cursing inwardly at her awkwardness.
For a long moment, they stared at each other. She saw his eyes were the same deep brown, still fringed with thick lashes. They had always been his best feature. She counted back. Ten years ago, they’d graduated high school together. Ten years ago, he’d been the one with sweaty palms as he’d invited her to the prom. Ten years ago, she’d laughed in his face. Not that he’d helped his case any. He’d had scrawny arms and a pimply face and had generally been known as a complete nerd. Still, they’d had a few classes together and their parents were friends. He hadn’t been bad to talk to. And he’d had big dreams. Katie’d admired that.
But he’d waited until three days before prom to ask her to go with him, and then he’d done it in public around all her friends. They’d never understand that Katie actually liked Nerdboy, as they called him. One of the girls—she couldn’t even remember her name now—had made a snotty remark, and Katie had done something cruel—she’d laughed at him. Instantly, his cheeks had stained red and he’d shuffled away. She’d felt awful, but had never gotten up the courage to apologize. It hadn’t been her finest moment.
Now the joke was on her. The man rising before her had certainly changed. His dark looks were now quite handsome. He’d lost his gawky teenage gangliness and his face was clear and tanned, smooth from his morning shave. He stood, his legs long and lean in the expensive fabric of his suit, while his shirt stretched taut across broad shoulders. In fact, besides the eyes and the shape of his mouth, it was almost like looking at a different person. He came forward, holding out a hand. She took it, hoping to God hers wasn’t as clammy as she thought it must be.
She blushed, and he smiled again, the warmth not quite meeting his eyes as he withdrew his hand. “You have business. Care to sit?”
She stepped forward, her heels clicking like gunshots behind him on the hardwood floor of his office. It seemed to take forever to cross the expanse, evidence of how well he’d done for himself.
“Thanks. This is a beautiful office.” Way to go, Katie, she thought. Nice sparkling conversation you’ve got going.
She took the chair opposite him, put down her portfolio and crossed her legs. Without thinking, she defensively crossed her arms.
“The perks of being the president,” he remarked, closed the open file on the table and pushed it to one side. Folding his hands in his lap, he wasted no time. “What can I do for you today?”
Ouch. That sounded like a standard line if ever there was one. Looking up at him, she saw his face was impersonal and barely interested. How could she ever sell him on this idea?
“I’m starting a new business.”
“What does that have to do with me?”
She bit down on her lip. “Well, unfortunately the financing has been…elusive.”
“The banks turned you down.” He cut straight to the chase and she winced.
“Yes.” Oh, how it hurt to admit it. She’d tried everything, but no one wanted to take a chance on her idea or put the money behind it. She had no experience, few credentials—just a small dream and a desire to make it happen. Apparently, the promise to work hard didn’t go very far in the business world.
She’d done her homework, and though the banks thought her too much of a risk, there was no doubt in her mind she could do this.
“Perhaps you’d better tell me about your venture, though I’m not sure how I can help. I assume it has nothing to do with land development?”
“No, it doesn’t. But when I kept hitting brick walls, Dad suggested I try here.” That had stung too. Both taking advice from her dad and resorting to nepotism. It was definitely humbling.