Page 8 of The Innovator

Sit down.

Why couldn’t I move?

The intensity of his eyes anchored me to the floor as though they held power over my feet. For some odd reason, I couldn’t breathe. I had no trouble breathing before I entered this room. Was this how he intimidated others? I didn’t feel intimidated, but something else—something I couldn’t pinpoint yet. My body remained still, as though I was a fit model, letting the designer examine the clothing on me.

We stared at each other like two high school enemies waiting for the other to make the first move. I surveyed him, and he surveyed me.

He sported short black hair, brown eyes, masculine eyebrows, a straight nose, a chiseled jaw, and lips that made me wonder too many inappropriate things. He wore a dark tailored suit with a navy tie that had an allover geometric print, casting him as a stylish panther eyeing its prey. My eyes traced the straight line of his shoulders—strong and capable like the horizon that separated the sky from the land. My designer-trained eyes moved to the powerful arms, the poised posture, and the stable long legs. His casual stance depicted confidence, portraying him as a man with a vision and a mission. Most successful men possessed these qualities, but lacked honesty and kindness.

Which man are you, Grayson?

When my gaze slid to his face and connected to his eyes, my lips parted, releasing a quiet sigh. His eyes raked down my body, and I shivered as I felt his keen observation, like soft feathers skimming all over me, awakening my muscles and cells.

Okay, that was a strange response. I desperately needed some time off from work to recalibrate.

Grayson broke the staring contest, shifted his feet, and gestured with a hand for me to sit down.

I pulled out the chair, not because he asked, but because my legs were wobbly.

He grabbed a manila folder on the table, moved it in front of him, and tapped his fingers on it. “Robert said you’d be working with me regarding the Three Point Park project.”

I crossed my legs, trying to remember if my brain had lapsed along with my body. I’d heard about the construction a few blocks away that would become the next tourist site for Providence, but I didn’t know the details.

“He never mentioned it to me.”

“The city manager will approve it soon. For previous projects, the city would appoint an employee to work closely with me. That person is you.”

I considered him. “Is thatyourrequest or Robert’s?”

“It’s mine, which will become his.” He smiled, and a dimple appeared on his right cheek, transforming his face from handsome to . . . extraordinary. But I kept that thought tucked in a secret place where no one—especially him—would ever find out.

“I’ll touch base with Robert later.” I looked at the other folders in his pile. “Are you going to sign those papers?”

Grayson didn’t even glance at the pile. “I’ve worked with other assistants from the city, and none of them are as determined as you. Why are you so determined to get these signed?”

“Simple. I’m doing my job. If I don’t resolve those issues, more will pile up, and I’ll be swimming in issues. I don’t have time to follow up on a nuisance when it could be resolved by a quick signature.”

“Fair enough.” The smirk he tossed my way seemed like a trap. “Just so you know, those documents were signed this morning and already delivered to inspectors. Someone’s scheduled to come out and review my warehouse in two weeks.”

I blinked in surprise. “How come no one told me?”

“I’m sure you’ll be notified soon. Municipal government isn’t renowned for being quick. Besides, I told Robert I wantyouon Three Point Park.”

“Why?”

“Why not?”

“You realize we don’t work well together, right?”

“Since you like resolving things, this could be an opportunity toresolvethat issue. Don’t tell me you’re incapable of this important task.”

Incapable? Frustration rose in me.God, please give me patience so I don’t hurt him.

Grayson pulled out some papers from a folder. “Let me brief you on the project. These are the three buildings that will create Three Point Park.” He placed each picture in front of me.

My heart raced as I recognized The Prism—myproperty.

“You don’t own this.” I jabbed a finger at the printout.

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