Page 12 of Hotshot Mogul

Callie paused from cleaning the dish she held. “Sadly, that hasn’t changed.”

Callie leaned back against her wooden storage areas. I collapsed against the back of the chair. “I carried Ni…Bruce’s child for three full moons. It left me after he was killed. I couldn’t go through that loss again.”

Callie stood behind me, bent down and embraced me. “I’m sorry for your loss. I couldn’t have children. I had several miscarriages, lost the babies. My husband didn’t handle it, or me, very well. He wasn’t killed before my eyes, but he wasn’t much as a husband, or a person. I saw that too late.”

“I am sorry, Callie.”

She let me go and patted my shoulders. “Let’s give your teacup a look. Give it a swirl, then hold it upside down over the saucer like this. Then flip it back.” She picked up her teacup. “While you do it, think of a question and pray for protection.”

I did as she said. Would I succeed? Switch, swish, plunk, flip. A tree, sort of, took shape in the middle of the cup.

“A tree—there—means you need help from others to make progress toward what you want.” She looked at her own cup. “I have a mountain. I get this a lot. It means I am a hard worker. I take this to mean I will work to help you.”

CHAPTER FOUR

Bruce

I needed to tell Anneliese that I was Clynes Development, the one who wanted to cut down the trees she wanted to save. But instead, I’d kissed her, tasted her. Her response to me, our response to each other, was off the fucking charts.

I paced around the condo I stayed in when I worked in Michigan. It would only take me ten minutes to get to Callie’s place. I had been awake since five a.m., looking through the plans to see if there was any way to keep Anneliese’s trees.

The arborist I hired said the oak tree was dormant and would not come back from that. I planned to harvest what I could of the old oak, and use it somehow in the common spaces within the development. Truth was, I hated that tree. I hated that spot where Anneliese made her camp. The word “hate” did not begin to describe that dread and revulsion I felt when I was there. I wanted to destroy it.

I’d bought land and built houses, stores, and buildings all over North America. I’d never had this reaction to a place. I wanted to wipe out any trace that that place, with those trees, ever existed.

My developments were known as the new urbanism. A variety of housing options, restaurants, retail stores, medical offices, and other small businesses were designed around green spaces. The spot those trees were on would be the real money maker, a high-rise with a penthouse suite and restaurant with views of the lake in the distance.

The sky was so blue today, it looked fake. But it was no match to Anneliese’s bluish-purple eyes, the most amazing color I had ever seen. I gulped down the rest of my coffee as my crazy-ass dreams from the night before resurfaced. There was a woman with soft, brown eyes framed by dark, sooty lashes, whom I knew to be Anneliese. But she had long, curly, dark hair.

I was seriously losing my shit over this woman. Those soft, brown eyes must belong to one of the women I’d been with. I couldn’t remember most of their names. I wasn’t proud of my string of one-and-dones. I wasn’t sure what I was looking for or running from.

I considered putting a shot of Johnnie Walker in the rest of my coffee to take the edge off. That was, thankfully, something I never did—drink this early. No. I would be driving all morning, maybe all day, if Anneliese wanted. And I still needed to buy us a picnic lunch and cold drinks.

I pulled out my phone and texted her, hoping that she had her cell close by. Food for today. What would you like?

She was answering. My adrenalin spiked. I sat, glued to my phone, like a goofy teenager. Muffins, or donuts. Strawberries, bread with jam and peanut butter.

You got it. And to drink? Is lemonade or cola good? White wine, too? My girl loved sweets. My girl? Would she want to be my girl when she knew I was Clynes Development? Back to square one.

We both stood firmly on opposite sides of saving the trees. I had to focus.

Yes. Sweet tea is good, too. Callie has fed me too much. But hunger always comes back.

This woman and her charming, quirky turns of phrase. I will see you soon.

Okay.

I grabbed my phone. I needed to be sure I had enough charge in the Jeep to last the day. Plus, I had some shopping to do.

***

We waited for the air in the tires to deflate slightly, which you had to do before you could drive onto the dunes. Silver Lake State Park was the only dune east of the Mississippi open to off-road vehicles, so the place was busy. As it often happened near Lake Michigan, the sky was white with clouds. No rain forecasted.

The wind gusted off Lake Michigan. Anneliese took a long sip of lemonade, exposing the beautiful lines of her delicate neck. I could barely peel my gaze away. Others gawked, too. She looked sexy and adorable in her cargo shorts and tank top.

I packed a canopy, chairs, and a blanket. We’d already munched on the chocolate chip muffins, her favorite so far, and guzzled orange juice. Everything seemed new to her.

The tires were ready. So, I opened the passenger door and belted her in. She smelled like flowers and fresh spring rain. Her eyes sparkled. I had to kiss her. She tasted like chocolate and Anneliese.

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