Foundations: The Power of Three Love Series Page 2

  Witnessing the beauty of the two male specimens standing in front of me, I instantly felt light on my feet. Normally, I would be attracted to these men, but it was a known fact they were partners in more than just the professional sense. As indicated by all the newspapers, they were in a very committed relationship.

  As I predicted, both men walked toward Andrew, when the blonde man extended his hand toward him. “Mr. Arnold, it’s nice to meet you.”

  Andrew’s head turned, looking in my direction, and he flashed a smirk at me. I have them where I want them. I internally laughed at that thought. Snaking my way in front of Andrew, I extended my own hand. “Actually, I’m Elliot Arnold.” I paused, wanting to have some fun with these two. “I would think with two people like yourselves who live out of the mold of what is traditional for most, you wouldn’t be shocked that a woman could have a reputation such as I do in this industry.”

  Arden’s gaze fell on his partner, then moved back at me, and if his baby blues could write an apology, I think he would have done that. Before I fell victim to his eyes, something hit me in the gut. A memory assaulted me, and I looked away for the briefest moment.

  “I’m sorry, Ms. Arnold, it’s not meant as disrespect. We just assumed with the name Elliot, it sounded more masculine,” Arden claimed, his apology pulling me back to the here and now.

  Concentrating on the business at hand and not wallowing in my past, I silently scoffed at them. I was used to this sort of reaction. Though this was not our first meeting, Arden Blakely had the warmest mannerisms of anyone I’d known. That part of him had bewitched me the first time—that and the ocean blue of his eyes.

  He was articulate along with handsome and sexy; again, something I’d never forgotten. “Well, now that I know you’d work with me whether I was a man or woman, let’s get down to business,” I said curtly, and though I caught wind of Arden’s little smirk, Daimen Torano or whom I’d named Mr. Grumpy, didn’t change the scowl that had graced his face since I arrived. “Alright, in corresponding with Mr. Blakely …”

  “Arden, please, Ms. Arnold,” he insisted, and for a second, if I had to guess, his eyes danced with understanding when he examined my body. He hadn’t given me any indication he recognized me yet.

  I reminded myself that he was a taken man; though, in my expert opinion, he liked what he saw. Just as he had the first time too. This was all about business right now. Even though my womanly regions had certainly experienced a cold zone recently, they still remembered his touch. I finally croaked out, “Alright, Arden, as I was saying, while I was corresponding with you, I saw the design sketches from your last architect. Obviously, you’re bringing me on mid-project, so I assume you weren’t happy with who you hired before.”

  “That would be an understatement,” Daimen, AKA Mr. Grumpy, replied, brooding, apparently still stroking his ego at such a regrettable decision when I simply nodded. I got a feeling this storm cloud of a man might never like being wrong—ever.

  Forcing my mind to remain on the subject of business, I continued, “Okay, I’d rather not know the specifics—though, I’ll tell you, I’d have gone a completely different route with the designs. I’ve reviewed them tirelessly and identified dead space that could have been utilized better. With that being said, I understand your desire to prevent rework, but I wouldn’t follow his plans moving forward.” The grumpy one’s eyebrows rose at least an inch, and in his narrowed glare, I assumed this was news to him. I kept talking. “What you would end up with would be my own thumbprint.” I paused, watching the reaction in Daimen’s eyes, and now I was aware this information was indeed not passed along to him. But I wouldn’t back down, and honestly, he was the one to blame. He cut corners due to cost and cost alone.

  I continued, looking straight at Daimen. “If you’d hired me from the beginning, your buildings would’ve had a completely different design. I’ll be sure to stamp my name on this project with my own individual flair because my work product is my résumé. So, if you’re up to changes, I can do this. If not, I’ll have to decline this job. It would make my work look subpar.” I laid it out there for him, and though I’d been told I was an alpha female, my claws came out because I wouldn’t negotiate on this part of the contract.

  After Daimen’s stare found my face, he transferred his glare to Arden. “This is the first I’m hearing of this particular clause. But let me get this right, Ms. Arnold.” I didn’t correct him and ask him to call me Elliot, not yet. Oh, messing with this man could be fun. “You won’t change the thumbprint of the last architect’s plan, but you would change further plans, moving forward?”

  How else do I need to spell it out, I wondered, but I left my sarcasm in my head when I replied, “That’s correct. Changing what you have would be too costly, but changing what we could do moving forward with the existing plan would be something I’d insist on. I know budget is important, Mr. Torano.” This was my way of saying, I know you’re a cheapskate, though you’re worth millions upon millions.

  “Please call me Daimen, Ms. Arnold,” he said briskly and with a small grunt. I followed his eyes, and with a glare from his man, he returned a small smile my way. It made sweat pool at the base of my neck. He was a sexy Italian man. It was hard not to miss. Even if the smile was forced, it was the first time since I’d met him that he gave me a little morsel of his human side. It was short-lived when his mouth turned downward, but his timbre wasn’t as gruff. “Now, what will this cost in terms of the existing budget?” Daimen asked.

  They didn’t know me from Adam—well, I guess that wasn’t true. Arden Blakely certainly knew me well, even if he didn’t remember. But they didn’t know how I thought or how I could knock them both down a peg or two if I really wanted. But the look I gave Arden had to be a universal sign for frustration combined with irritation. My pitch rose when I asked, “Did you not communicate any of this to your partner?”

  “Honestly, Ms. Arnold, no.” And this time, if I had to guess, he gave me his I’m sorry not sorry look. “I had a feeling he would have,” he specified, pointing at Mr. Grumpy, “never agreed to this meeting had he known the bottom line. Your reputation precedes you, and I’d hoped you’d be able to sell yourself to him, as you’re doing. Daimen does worry about money.”

  “If I take this job, changing the plans is non-negotiable.” In my attempt to monitor my cursing because it turned my male peers off to hear a woman swear like a sailor, I internally mused, How many freaking times do I have to tell them this? As I turned slightly, I noticed Andrew was entertained by the back and forth. It was then that I realized, between this and them mistaking me for a man, I hadn’t introduced my best friend and soon-to-be partner. With a stalemate, I decided to break the ice. “By the way, this is Andrew Peters, my engineering expert and assistant.” I nodded, and as long as Andrew had known me, he knew he needed to take over now, or I’d blow a gasket at the grumpier one of these two hot men.

  “I have the numbers here,” Andrew started, handing the two men a very official cost analysis. “As you see, the bottom line does increase by fifty percent; however, with the changes, our real estate agents feel that you can sell at a higher premium, both for the residential and commercial units sold.”

  Daimen’s murderous eyes returned to the alpha male persona he’d displayed earlier. Arden’s sweet gaze drew my attention away from the mean one as Andrew continued with the numbers. “We can increase the selling price of the units by ten percent, but that won’t cover the extra forty percent difference we have to sink into this.”

  I wanted this job more than any other one I’d been offered, so I was not done selling myself. I quickly took over when Andrew finished. “As you know, fixing other people’s mistakes are more expensive,” I clarified plainly. I wanted to say you’re a cheap SOB and that’s why you’re in this conundrum, but I refrained.

  Daimen’s eyes finally peeled from the spreadsheet Andrew had given him. A surprise met me when he popped his head up from the numbers with a small gri
n. A little smirk looked sexy as sin on this man. Catching me admiring him, he turned his lips more into a full-blown smile when he replied, “Okay, Ms. Arnold, you’ve been very informative. I’ll talk this over with my partner, and we’ll get back to you by tomorrow.”

  Even though I didn’t expect an answer right now, and I knew this was a blow off, I’d never let this man see me sweat. My tone was curt when I began, “I have another job I’m considering. Being honest with you, this is my first choice. If we aren’t a good match, I need to know your decision by tonight.” I had to be direct because I needed some sort of steady pay coming in.

  Arden observed my tell it as it is sort of attitude with his kind eyes. “Ms. Arnold, we’ll know by the end of business tonight. We appreciate your commitment to all your clients.” His mannerisms seemed genuine. The torrid dark eyes of the good-looking Italian man returned, and it had me questioning his business etiquette. Abrasive, controlling, and confusing were three words I’d choose to describe him in a matter of minutes from our first encounter.

  This wasn’t how I envisioned the meeting going, but it was obviously over. “Okay, your secretary has my number.” I extended my hand to them. The grips of the men too told me something of their character. Arden’s hand was warm and inviting. Daimen’s shake was harder and stronger like his darker persona indicated the second I met him

  “Thanks, Ms. Arnold, for your candidness,” Arden replied, his eyes prancing around my body—almost as though he was remembering it in detail. I wanted this job more than the other one. Fixing the work of a world-renowned architect would look good to my future clientele. But working with a controlling man like Daimen Torano? I wasn’t sure how I felt about it—even if his stare gave me goose bumps in all the right places.

  3

  Arden

  “What the hell is your problem?” I asked Daimen, embarrassed and annoyed at the macho caveman behavior he displayed in our meeting with Elliot.

  Daimen’s anger was palpable. “First off, you fucking tricked me.” His lips were pressed together in a slight grimace. “And second, you sneaky son of a bitch, we can’t spend this kind of money.” His voice had torn past his normal abrasive tone and was now animated as he shouted. I tolerated many things from Daimen, but being shrieked at like the drama queen he was certainly wasn’t one of them.

  I raked my hands through my hair and took a cleansing breath. “First off,” I started because if he wanted a list of reasons why we could do this, I’d give it to him. “We have the money, Mr. Cheapskate. And second, why are you fighting me on this? We’re leaving a legacy for our kids, our family. This will not break us financially if we go with Elliot.” I was working on emotion, and Daimen never did well with that. Facts—he needed facts, and I conjured up some sort of tranquility when I continued, “We can’t use the cheapest and most incapable person for the job. We’re going to fix this problem, or we’ll ruin our names.” Those were enough facts for his eyes to change from the deadly orbs that had been present only seconds earlier.

  He strolled behind his desk, placing his hand flat, and raised his eyes to meet mine. “I agree with you, but I don’t like her. I want someone different.”

  I knew it was childish, but I laughed, and it became a hysterical snicker. His I’m going to fuck you but not in the pleasant way stare reached my face when he shouted, “I don’t find this funny. How do you?”

  “Oh, fuck, honey, how can you not see it?” Now, I was scrubbing my chin, trying to figure out the best way to break it to him.

  “See what, Arden?” He only called me by my name when he was upset. It was evident that Daimen had become more offended with each moment of unexplained laughter. His face turned a deep red that made him look like a tomato.

  “I know you’re mad, but it’s quite funny.” Daimen’s face contorted into a small rumple as it did every time I wound him up.

  Now my man’s ears were bright red too. “So, I will ask you again, you son of a bitch, why is this so funny?”

  I tried to compose myself when I continued, “Honey, it’s just—hell, she’s the female version of you.”

  Daimen slammed his hand on his desk when he howled, “She is not!”

  “Oh, you’re a stubborn bastard sometimes, and I fucking love you so much. But she is. Just. Like. You,” I claimed, and I couldn’t wait to share this with Scarlet. She’d get a kick out of it.

  But even my man could see what was in front of him. When Daimen’s face started to turn to a little smirk, I understood he saw it too. “Okay, maybe she’s a bit assertive like I can be, but that’s the only similarity.”

  “Oh, honey, you’re in so much denial. We need to go with her. You know that too. Right?” And in this, I was assertive, my tone just begging him to challenge me.

  He left his spot behind the desk and walked my way with one of the few smiles I’d seen from him all morning. Cupping my head, he placed a kiss on my forehead. “I guess we should. I can’t fucking stand to listen to another ‘I told you so’ speech, babe.”

  Here was my chance to push another agenda with him. It was risky, but I loved a challenge. “And, listen, while we’re at it, she’s pretty hot. Right?” I wasn’t sure how my man would take this, but, fuck, she was too sexy. That tight red dress, the wavy dark blonde hair, and her heart-shaped ass were a few things that made my cock come alive. Somehow, I was able to keep my beast at bay, but, hell, she was my type—everything in a sweet and saucy package.

  Daimen’s eyes growing darker by the second told me I was skating on thin ice. “So you’re telling me this after I agree to hire her. That, you asshole, is quite deceptive.”

  How could I not laugh in his face? “Fuck, honey, you know a beautiful girl when you see one. You’re still turned on by women, and you can’t deny she’s beautiful.” I was waiting for an answer but realized hell would freeze over before I got one. “She has a body on her but isn’t a waif of skin and bones. She’s definitely a contender.”

  “Oh, hell no, babe, you get that out of your mind right now. That’ll never happen.” His voice was as high as a schoolgirl. When he was in denial, I found his pitch could call dogs home.

  In my everyday joking, I simply replied, “Okay, honey, I guess you’re right. Not sure I could handle two alphas like you both.”

  Still in his arms, I felt safe. But my man was always business at work. “Let’s just get this out of the way. Set up a meeting to get this project started.”

  He wanted me here with them during the boring financials. Hell no. “Honey, you know I can’t stand the money part as much as you hate the design issues I deal with. Although it would be fun to see you both spar for dominance around each other,” I added because my dick twitched at the images rattling through my mind.

  He playfully smacked my ass, then reached his hand to stroke the outline of my groin. He must really feel playful because he barely allowed himself this type of pleasure in the office. “Okay, babe—for now,” he continued. “We’re ten minutes from home. And I need you. Fuck work because I want to fuck you.”

  Oh, he’s primed and ready. Taking a minute, I messed with him a bit longer. “Before the meeting, you said it would be afternoon before we left, and it’s still technically morning,” I scolded.

  “You’re being an adorable bastard right now. You know this?” He must have caught on that I was giving it to him good, but that was nothing compared to what I planned to give him the second we crossed the threshold to our home.

  “Okay, you’ve convinced me. Let’s go,” I whispered in his ear.

  4

  Elliot

  There were so many things I loved about Chicago, but the cold winter was not one of them. My thoughts were on the meeting, the job, and the baby blues that once seared every part of my body. It was the winter winds raking through me that cooled what was rattling around in my brain.

  “What are you thinking, Ell?” Andrew asked me the second we were outside the building.

  My heart was a little wounde
d for a couple of reasons. How could he not remember me? Sure, I’d heard of the sexy men who’d been committed to one another and even saw pictures of them, but a newspaper article didn’t do Arden Blakely justice. Especially compared to the mind-numbing sensations he’d triggered in my body.

  “There’s no way they will accept my terms. The good-looking blonde one may, but the more aggressive alpha will not allow it. You can tell who runs the relationship.” I stopped for a second, remembering how Arden had run the show during our one night together. All future men had been compared to him, and none had come within the hemisphere of the man I now knew was Arden Blakely. Needing Andrew’s perspective, I asked, “Hey, you swing that way, what do you think of them?” Because honestly, Arden was all into girlie parts the last time I was near him.

  He smiled at my question. I knew my best friend was checking them out as much as I was. “Oh, sweetheart, they’re fine men, I’ll give you that. I’m not attracted to the very muscular large ones like them, but they are hot as fuck. Surely, you’ve noticed it?”

  Noticed was not even the right word for what I saw in both of them, even the grumpy one. “I know. It’s a shame they are both taken and playing for the other team.” I laughed. It was a joke I had repeated so many times to Andrew, normally about his most recent fling. He never seemed to want commitment, and my bestie was handsome in his own right.

  He put his arm around my shoulder and giggled like a schoolgirl. “Not for those who are into men, my dear friend.”

  “Yeah, I guess so,” I agreed when the vibration of my cell phone startled me. I scrambled to answer it before it went to voicemail. “This is Elliot Arnold.”