Page 22 of Confusing Cade
The parking lot was almost empty when I arrived at Weston Enterprises on Thursday afternoon. Surprised, I pulled into a spot labeledVisitor Parkingand surveyed the area again. I hadn’t paid much attention to the company since my dad’s funeral, but I knew it employed numerous local people.So where are they?
Baffled, I strode into the main reception area and approached the security desk. The sleepy guard showed me to the elevators and told me to take the express to the top floor. I followed his orders and rode to the executive level.
“Cade is waiting for you in the conference room,” a woman with a tight French twist and a drapery cardigan sweater said when I stepped off the elevator. She stood behind a wide glass desk that I guessed was outside Cade’s personal office. “I’ll show you there. Would you like something to drink?”
Surprised that she didn’t bother with introductions, I asked for water, and she retrieved a bottle of Perrier from a small refrigerator behind her desk. When I said I didn’t want a glass, she passed it over and motioned for me to follow her down a skinny hallway to the far end of the building.
“So... are you the one who set up the other meeting?” I asked as we traveled down the corridor.
“Yes, I’m Brooke, by the way.”
“Well... um... thanks? It’s nice to meet you.”
She laughed. “Nice to meet you too. And as much as Cade likes to work in his office, he prefers the view in the conference room.” She grinned. “You’ll see why.”
The woman rapped twice on the large double doors before opening the left door, twisting the ornate handle. “Cade, Bella Moretti is here.”
“Come right in,” Cade called from inside the room, and we stepped into the space.
I gasped as I took it in. Instantly, I saw why Cade enjoyed working there. The room had to have one of the best views of the Intracoastal Waterway and the town of Palm Beach. Floor-to-ceiling windows showed off the marinas, yachts, luxury homes, and unadulterated views of The Breakers Resort, all softened by the approach of an early winter evening. The other walls had loud murals of contemporary art. A huge glass table etched in gold served as the centerpiece, and a long arrangement of ferns in a square vase lay atop the center of it. Cade stood from his seat at the head of the table.
“Thank you, Lois. I’ll take it from here.”
She nodded. “Do you need anything else before I leave for the day?”
He shook his head, walking toward us. “No, you’re free to go.”
Once she left, Cade gestured to the seat next to his at the conference table. “Lois keeps this place running like clockwork. I’d be lost in the chaos without her.”
“She knows where all the bodies are buried?”
“Something like that. You know, I’ve always liked that old saying.”
“Me too.”
We stared at each other for a beat, and I once again admired his fine suit, tailored to fit him superbly, highlighting his broadshoulders and the natural drape of his hips. Even the light blue threads in his tie accented his eyes perfectly.
God, why does Cade have to be so handsome?
“Please open the portfolio in front of you,” he instructed, his voice crisp and commanding. One could call Cade Weston arrogant, and to some extent, he was. But he’d also worked extremely hard to get to this position. I suspected he had no idea how high-handed he sounded,nor that it sent shivers down my spine.Was he trying to intimidate me? He’d asked me here to show me the blueprints as a courtesy, but now I wasn’t sure if I’d heard his relief in our phone call correctly.Two can play to their strengths.
I set the water down slowly and deliberately, letting my fingers linger on the glass before I leaned back and crossed my legs enough to hitch my skirt an inch higher. If FanZone had taught me anything it was how to manipulate men, and I was daring him with every ounce of heat I could muster. The stack of blueprints and Palm Beach Promenade marketing reports could wait.
His jaw tightened, a flicker of irritation cutting through his cool facade. “I said, open it, Bella.”
I let the silence hang, then finally flicked the folder open with a lazy swipe, revealing the documents like it was some big tease. I skimmed a few pages before dragging my gaze up to him. “Impressive.”
“You sound like you actually mean that,” he replied. I could tell he was annoyed by my tone, and how I’d made him ask twice.
Good, Cade. Stay annoyed.
“I’m not in real estate, but I know it takes a ton of effort to get a project like this through the various stages,” I admitted. “And I can tell that you did extensive research on what the area needed and the diverse clientele the Promenade would attract.”
“I did.”
It is impressive.I recalled Dad’s detail-oriented research. He used to say there was no point drilling the first hole if you hadn’t looked at every angle many times, asking yourself question upon question of the most viable outcome in terms of consumer needs and of course, profit. Unsurprisingly, Cade Weston seemed to share that quality.
Cade jerked his head in the direction of the side table I hadn’t noticed. On it was a large 3D model of what I could only guess was the final vision of the Promenade. “That’s how it will appear once it’s completed if you want to take a peek.”
