This Tender Melody. Kianna Alexander
grasped her hand. Eve said nothing, but offered a nod and a small smile of her own in return.
At two minutes till, her father finally strode in. Another man entered the room on his heels, and she felt a charge in the air. The atmosphere changed around her as a familiar scent filled her nostrils.
Her eyes traveled up the body of the man accompanying her father. His muscular frame was draped in a well-fitting gray suit, soft blue shirt and deep blue tie. Her gaze went higher, to meet the man’s face.
The dark eyes met hers, and recognition lit them almost immediately.
Shit!
Her mind registered who he was: the shirtless brother in the background of the picture Lina had texted her. Before she could stop herself, she said aloud, “Oh my God, it’s the elevator and volleyball guy...”
All eyes turned on her, including the sexy ones belonging to the brother in the gray suit.
He’d heard her.
She closed her eyes, and wished the floor would open up and swallow her.
* * *
What is she talking about?
Darius blinked, held his eyes closed for a moment, then opened them again.
But that didn’t change anything. The beautiful woman he’d seen on the elevator yesterday was still there, wide-eyed.
Today she wore a navy blue sheath dress that just grazed her knees. He found he much preferred it to yesterday’s pantsuit, as this getup allowed him an unobstructed view of her long, silky-looking brown legs.
Thinking he should respond to what she’d said, he dragged his eyes upward, toward her face. “I’m sorry, but I can’t say I’ve ever played volleyball in an elevator.” It was a nonsense response to match the nonsense statement, and he hoped it would break the tension hanging between them.
She appeared mortified, her cheeks filled with red. She dipped her head, lay a graceful hand over her brow, as if doing her best to disappear. “That didn’t come out right.”
Aware of the watching eyes of everyone present, he offered an easy chuckle. “Apparently.”
A few laughs sounded around the table.
Someone even made a comment about how the size of an elevator simply wasn’t conducive to a good volleyball game.
“Unless we’re talking about a handheld game,” someone else interjected.
To him, they were just disembodied voices in a crowded room. His eyes stayed on the pretty lady who’d captured his attention the previous day. The one who was now doing her best to avoid looking at him. “It’s all right to misspeak now and then, you know.”
She looked up at him, her face tight, the brown eyes narrowed. “Forget what I said. What I mean is, I’ve seen you before.”
“How could I forget?” He smiled at her, coming a little closer to her seat, and taking her hand. “It’s nice to see you again, Miss...”
Her hand trembled, and as she tilted her face to look at him, a silken lock of her upswept hair fell into her face. He found the sight captivating.
Someone cleared their throat. “I see you’ve met my daughter, Eve.”
He jerked his head around, and saw Franklin there, looking on. Releasing her hand, he studied his mentor, whose face was unreadable. “This is your daughter?”
Franklin nodded in response.
Turning back to her, he met her curious eyes. “Pleased to meet you, again, Miss Franklin. I’m Darius Winstead—an old friend of your father’s.”
In a moment, her expression changed from curiosity to anger. Her lovely brows furrowed, her sweet little painted mouth twisted into a scowl. In an outraged whisper, she said, “You! You’re the old friend?”
Not wanting to rile her any further, he stepped back. “Yes, I guess I am.”
She opened her mouth, then closed it again, as if becoming aware of the other people in the room. Blowing out a loud sigh, she folded her arms over her chest and turned toward the center of the table. She was obviously angry about something. But rather than say anything else, and risk a shouting match with her in front of the people he would soon lead, he rounded the table and took a seat in an empty leather chair across from her. She cut her eyes at him, a brief gesture that communicated her desire to either slap him, or let the air out of his tires, or both. He couldn’t tell and he didn’t want to find out.
So, the gorgeous woman from the elevator was the old man’s daughter. He never would have guessed it, having only seen pictures of her as a child scattered around Franklin’s office. What really upset him, though, was the way she reacted when he’d introduced himself. Why was she so annoyed that he called her father a friend?
Franklin stood behind the chair at the head of the table, and called the meeting to order. Soon the old man had called on the board secretary to read aloud the minutes of the last meeting. Darius knew he should probably pay attention to what was being said, but this was the part of business that bored him into a coma-like state. When he looked across the table at a tight-faced Eve, he saw her drumming the eraser end of a sharpened pencil on the tabletop. At least he wasn’t the only person struggling to stay awake.
To keep his eyelids from growing any heavier, he took a moment to look around the room. It was a very modern space, with soft gray walls and matching carpet. One wall was similar to the one in Franklin’s office, all glass, and looked out onto Trade Street. The other three walls were hung with framed magazine and newspaper articles about FTI, as well as a few pieces of colorful abstract art. The table they were sitting around was long and rectangular, made of glossy polished mahogany or some other dark wood. The twenty or so people present were all sitting in chairs the same shade of dark brown leather, with padded armrests. He shifted in his seat. It wasn’t as comfy as the memory foam one upstairs, but the slight discomfort might be just enough to keep him awake.
He heard Franklin call his daughter’s name and ask her to summarize the past month’s financial reports. She stood, tugging at the hem of the sheath dress. An aide walked over and turned on the projector set up in front of the room’s only blank wall. As the aide operated a laptop slide show, Eve pushed the wayward lock of hair away from her face and began to speak. Angling herself away from him and facing more toward her father, she spoke about profits and losses, overhead and the other particulars of the company budget with confidence. Watching her, it was pretty obvious she knew what she was talking about, and was likely damn good at her job. Why was Franklin so sure she wasn’t ready for the position of CEO? From where he sat, she seemed altogether capable and intelligent.
Once the slide show and her presentation came to an end, she sat down again. Impressed with both her body itself and her body of knowledge, Darius kept his eyes on her for the rest of the meeting.
Finally, mercifully, the meeting came to an end. Most of the people in the room filtered out, but Darius remained, along with Franklin and his daughter. The old man, who’d stood as the board members exited, sat down again. Eve remained in her seat, and they both looked in his direction. Taking the hint, he got up and moved down to the seat Mrs. Franklin had been occupying, with the old man between them.
Franklin started. “Eve, I...”
She cut him off. “Please excuse me, Daddy, but I would really like to know what qualifies your so-called ‘old friend’ to run this company. What kind of experience does he have that I don’t?” She leaned forward, her elbows resting on the table.
Darius heard the challenge in her voice. “Straight to the point, I see. I like that.”
She pursed her lips. “Then why don’t you answer my question, Mr. Winstead?”
So it’s like that. She was going to get formal with him, condescendingly. That was fine. He liked a little spark of excitement in his life. If she wanted to play