Sierra Parker is stuck in a dead-end job pushing papers for a real estate company when a workplace accident forces her to become a Realtor herself! Now she’s trying to sell the hottest properties on the market and nothing will get in her way—not even her demanding and incredibly gorgeous boss, Mr. Burhan.
Age Rating: 18+
A Weekend or Two by Sheri Mello is now available to read on the Galatea app! Read the first two chapters below, or download Galatea for the full experience.
Read the full uncensored books on the Galatea iOS app!
1
Sierra Parker is stuck in a dead-end job pushing papers for a real estate company when a workplace accident forces her to become a Realtor herself! Now she’s trying to sell the hottest properties on the market and nothing will get in her way—not even her demanding and incredibly gorgeous boss, Mr. Burhan.
Age Rating: 18+
Original Author: Sheri Mello
Sierra grunted. Her fourth game of Spider Solitaire and she was about to lose again.
Then her office phone rang out.
Eyeing the small screen, she noticed Jonas was calling. What on earth did she do for her boss to call her an hour before closing time? Sighing, she answered with a casual greeting. “Hello?”
“My office. Now.” He hung up.
Sierra sighed, placing the phone back on its hook. She’d been in her small, six by seven office the entire day doing nothing, and not once had he called for her. Maybe it was just that, she thought.
Sending emails and gathering information on clients was mediocre work and she was now nonessential.
Exiting her game, she pushed back the chair and strolled to the mirror by the door, smoothing an unruly curl that sprung free from her updo. At least her face wasn’t as oily as it usually was.
When she was finished with clearing the spot in the middle of her forehead, she adjusted her maroon pencil skirt, opened the door, and floated pass everyone who sat in their cubicles.
Sierra took a right and then pushed the glass door marked Jonas Rivers Real Estate Manager before stepping in.
Jonas was on the phone, possibly arguing with someone. “How on earth did you get the chickenpox! I still don’t understand. No, don’t humor me with your bullshit. I cannot go fourteen days without you. I need you back now. I don’t care if you have to infect the entire office, Conrad. Get your–Hello? Hello?” Jonas slammed the phone down.
Sierra shifted.
Jonas looked up. “Can I help you?”
She took a step forward. “Uh, you called?”
“Oh, right.” Jonas ran a palm down his weary face. He looked off today, his brownish golden hair was disheveled and needed combing. If anything gave him away, it was the stain on the shirt he wore yesterday. Sierra also noticed the fair line circling his ring finger. “Have a seat, Ms. Parker.”
She took the seat in front of his desk and crossed her legs.
Jonas was a brilliant manager, but he often had a nasty attitude whenever things didn’t go his way.
His ivory-tan complexion matched with his extremely good looks always got him on the best side with the ladies.
If he wasn’t that old—forty-seven to be exact—and married, Sierra saw herself getting entangled with the old bloke.
But she probably would have died with a broken heart because Jonas never kept his dick in his pants.
Sierra twiddled her thumbs as Jonas sifted through a stack of forms on his desk. He took one up, placed it behind the other in his hand, and then put it down.
He took it up again and then dropped it, sighing out loud. Sierra checked her watch and counted forty-five minutes until she could go home.
Clearly, whatever Mr. Rivers had in mind to tell her, wasn’t that important.
But as she was about to dismiss herself with an excuse to use the bathroom, Jonas glanced up, slipping his black-rimmed glasses off his face.
“Ah, Sierra Parker. Tell me, how long have you been with us? Two years?”
“A little over, sir.” Her stomach roiled. She knew it. She knew there would be a time when he fired her for being useless. They were cutting back on staff and decided to start with her first. She knew it. What did a certificate in property management and entrepreneurship really do for her here? Nothing. She should have done marketing.
Jonas took up the papers in his hands again and peered at it, his face wincing at whatever he had buzzing through his mind. “Do you have any real estate experience? Like, selling houses or anything?”
She shook her head. “No…not at the moment, sir.” Surely he should have known that. Wasn’t he the one who’d hired her? “Is there something wrong, Mr. Rivers?”
He dropped the paper and passed a rough hand over his forehead, exhaling. “Why now? Why this week,” he grumbled. Jonas’ hand hovered over the telephone but he pulled it back as if to prevent himself from doing something.
“Mr. Rivers?” Sierra pressed.
“I have a job for you.” He didn’t look up from his papers.
“A job?” Sierra’s heart flickered to life, but she kept her excitement inward, not wanting to alarm her boss or disappoint herself if it was something minor—like cleaning the microwave or the refrigerator because the janitor took a vacation. She cleared her throat, “What kind of job?”
“It’s nothing too difficult. Something you should be able to do within a week.”
Was he sweating? Sierra leaned forward. Yes, he was sweating—profusely. Why on earth was her boss sweating in an air-conditioned place? The room practically had ice for walls and even her sweater felt as thin as a polyester scarf. She never believed she saw Jonas sweat before. “Are you okay? You seem like—”
“I’m fine,” he cut her off. “I would like you to fill in for Mr. Hughes.”
Sierra swallowed. “As in Conrad Hughes?” Conrad was a marketing specialist. He sold houses within a few days and no one had complaints about their sale. Last year, he sold a house for twenty-eight million dollars to Cassandra Pierre, a British actress. He did the transaction within three days, no sweat. So, when Jonas asked her to fill in for him, Sierra couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow.
“That’s what I said, Ms. Parker.”
“W-what about Kirk?” she sputtered. “I’m sure Kirk—”
“Kirk is on a vacation and is out of the country. Not even the CSIS can get in touch with him. Listen, are you able to do this job, or do I have to give it to Mildred?”
Sierra’s eyes bulged. “Your secretary?”
“Yes…” he drawled. “Conrad has the chickenpox and was advised to stay at home for two weeks. Two of my best are gone, and this only leaves you to do the job, Ms. Parker. So are you up for it?”
Sierra stayed quiet for about ten seconds, her mind turning and twisting about how something big like this could be possible.
A Real Estate Agent? She’d done the licensing exam but had no experience whatsoever.
She was twenty-five for Pete’s sake, how on earth was she to know how to do anything besides what she learned in the classroom? And now her boss wanted to throw her straight into the fire?
“If you succeed at this, you will receive a ten percent commission and an end-of-year bonus. You will also be promoted as a recognized agent of the firm,” Jonas continued. He seemed as if he was trying his best to convince her. “I would do this myself but I already took on a lot of big clients. So, I’m asking you, would you be able?”
Well, it wasn’t as if she had a choice. But to receive a commission, plus an end of year bonus? She could finally buy a new car and get rid of her old beetle wagon. And to be called an agent? “Yes,” she finally said.
“Good.” Jonas slipped the white papers into a folder and pushed it toward her, “This is a major client of ours. Adrian Burhan. He is new and it’s his first time buying a house in Canada. We are glad he chose us for this new venture.”
Sierra opened the folder and her breath caught at the sight of him. A simple white background passport photo stuck to the edge of the folder did little to stop her from ogling him. He was beautiful.
“That is his basic profile. I expect you to find out more about him such as his likes, dislikes, loves, hates, and if you can, the past houses he lived in. Get an idea of what his tastes are. You are expected to close this deal within a week. The earlier the better. The longer you take, the least interested the client gets.”
Sierra nodded, her eyes still trapped inside the folder. Arabian? As she skimmed through it, she realized how bare the profile was. His marital status wasn’t listed and the children section was blank.
He lived in London but owned a construction company in Dubai. Mr. Burhan was an architect in his own firm.
“Did you hear me?”
Sierra looked up, “Hm?”
“I said, close this within a week. Your first meeting with him is on Friday at seven o’clock. I trust that you will get your information by then. You may leave now. I will check in with you on Thursday.”
Friday? So she had three days to gather information and present the best houses in Vancouver? Sure she had tons of experience collating profiles for Conrad and Kirk, but for herself?
Never in her life, she believed she would have to be doing this. Sierra rose from her seat, still in awe, and left Jonas’ office.
She didn’t leave until an hour pass home time.
***
“Let’s see what you’ve got.”
Sierra peered up from her computer to see Mr. Rivers plopping himself down in her guest chair. She minimized the Solitaire game and turned to him. “Hm?”
“What did you get on Mr. Burhan?”
Pulling her desk drawer, she retrieved a red folder. She chose red because Mr. Burhan seemed like the type to like red.
Well, when she googled his name and his credentials, she didn’t find much, only the fact that he was a millionaire, rich from his parents’ inheritance.
Sierra opened the folder and pushed it toward her boss and he took it, opening it on the second to last page as he always did.
She always knew to put the pertinent information on that page to capture his interests.
The folder had ten pages that outlined most of his likes, dislikes, interests, and hobbies. Mr. Burhan hated cats but loved dogs.
He enjoyed working out at the gym and loved to cook whenever he had the time—things she gathered from his Facebook business profile.
His personal profile, however, had a video of him playing with a golden retriever. Anything else was private for close friends.
And based on what Jonas had before, she learned that Adrian Burhan was thirty-four years and the eldest of one brother and four sisters.
He worked for his own company called Burhan Construction Limited and established over six branches in five countries—Canada being his seventh.
He owned three properties, two in London and one in Dubai. The one in Dubai boasted of being an eight-bedroom mansion with a fifteen-foot swimming pool and a tennis court.
He owned four sports cars, all of which were red, and a green motorbike. He was described as forward, assertive, and cool.
“This is fine. It should have been a bit more extensive,” Jonas said. “But given our time limit, this will have to do.”
“It was all I could find. He is really…” she trailed off, trying to put together the correct word, “discreet.”
“Discreet does not get us sales, Sierra.”
She rolled her eyes, but not in his direction.
He handed the folder back and stood. “I gather you’ve prepped yourself for his meeting tomorrow morning?”
She nodded.
“Do not be late, Sierra. Seven sharp. Try to be there before him. He seems like the type to be punctual.”
Sierra nodded again.
Jonas walked to the door and turned back, “Mr. Burhan might be our largest client ever if he buys. So don’t ruin this for us. If you do this, your future here is sealed. And you can very well be promoted next to Conrad.”
“Yes, sir.”
Jonas exited.
Next to Conrad, Sierra thought. That would be the pinnacle of her career. At age twenty-five she would be something—she could be something.
And she certainly wouldn’t have to sit at her small desk and push papers for everyone and play solitaire for the next five years.
Opening the folder, she scanned the details again. She had to make the information stick. She would memorize every word on each page because her career was riding on it.
She had to seal the deal, no matter what it took.
***
Sierra rolled over, slapping her alarm clock the fourth time on snooze.
Her body ached with regretful tiredness after Kristoff, her boyfriend of two years, took her to a bar near her workplace last night. He’d coerced her to go out and have a few celebratory drinks.
A few too much…She wasn’t supposed to be out that late because—
Her eyes shot open. “No, shit!” Sierra flew off the bed, snatching the clock off the nightstand—six-forty-five. “No, damn it.”
Throwing the alarm on her bed, Sierra leaped into the shower and threw her clothes on the floor. She was late. No, she was extremely late.
Her heart sped up as she scrubbed every corner and crevice of her body within three minutes. They would fire her. Surely they would.
She skated out of the bathroom, brushed her teeth, and fetched the darkest and cleanest suit in her closet. She slipped on her stockings and then her navy blue pencil skirt.
She donned a red chiffon blouse with a tie at the front and threw over her matching jacket.
Sierra exhaled, peering into the mirror. Her hair, God, her messy hair. She hadn’t the time to gel it under her satin scarf last night. She cursed Kristoff under her breath. With a wide-teeth comb and a spray bottle of moisturizer, she spritzed and combed until her hair was soft enough to rake her fingers through.
Quickly, she tied it in a scrunchie and draped a red bandeau over her crown, leaving the end of her thick and coily black hair to settle as an afro puff. “Nice,” she said, slitting the hairline with her fingers.
She checked her clock again, mortified that it was seven minutes past seven.
Grabbing her purse and keys, she scurried out of the door, ran down four flights of steps—because the elevator never seemed to work—and pushed the door to the car park.
Praying to the Gods that Mr. Burhan ran late, she shoved the key into the ignition and…nothing. She turned it again. Still nothing.
She slapped the steering wheel, “Damn it, you piece of shit!” She turned the key only to hear coughing and sputtering, followed by smoky carbon monoxide thick enough to put anyone to sleep within ten seconds.
She checked her time again and grunted when the time elapsed by five minutes. She would have to foot it. There was no other way.
A taxi would take forever to reach, and by that time she would be fired. But she probably got fired already since she was here and not there. She’d let herself down and even Jonas.
But she couldn’t leave the man there. Fired or not, she had a job to do, and it would be utterly unprofessional to not show up.
She thought about calling Jonas to tell him she was late but figured it would be a bad idea.
Grabbing her purse, she called a taxi as she walked out of the car park.
She texted Kristoff about her car and now she had ten minutes to think of the perfect excuse to tell Mr. Burhan why her black ass was late.
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2
Sierra exited the taxi and breathed a sigh of relief. No one was at the site and no car waited or was parked at the pavement. Thank God.
She couldn’t stomach Mr. Burhan standing at the gate of the mansion with an angry face.
Adjusting her skirt and fixing the neckline of her blouse, she pulled her bag taut beneath her arm and walked toward the large black gate.
The security booth next to it was vacant and only the keys for the padlock worked at the moment.
The owners removed the motor from the gate as a safety measure so no one could drive in or out of the property.
Sierra unlocked the pedestrian gate and slipped through, and soon after, she got a sense of foreboding. What if Mr. Burhan came and left? Why hadn’t she thought of that?
Obviously he couldn’t be this late. She glanced at her watch again to see the time as 7:37 a.m. Now, she wondered if to call Mr. Burhan herself to find out what had happened.
Sierra patted her handbag and stilled, her eyes widening in horror. Her folder! The red folder with Mr. Burhan’s information.
She squeezed her eyes shut, inwardly slapping herself for leaving it on her bed. She pinched the bridge of her nose, knowing exactly what came next. She’d have to call Jonas.
She’d have to call her boss and ask him for Mr. Burhan’s number and also explain why he hadn’t met with her as yet.
She leaned against the gate, wondering if to head home and curl up in bed. She would never show up for work and never go outside until she buried her shame deep within.
But she couldn’t because she was an adult with responsibilities and obligations. At least she could blame it all on Kristoff when she got fired.
Exhaling a deep breath, she dialed Jonas’ number and waited. The phone rang twice and went to voicemail. She waited five seconds before trying again.
“Sierra,” Jonas answered dryly.
“Uh…hi, by chance, do you have Mr. Burhan’s number? I forgot my file at home and he isn’t here as yet.”
“Why is your file at home, Sierra?”
“I forgot it.”
“It is big and red. How on God’s earth did you forget it? I am in the middle of my shower, so I can’t get that right now. But Mr. Burhan called thirty minutes ago and said he would be late.”
Sierra’s hands tightened around the phone. “Why didn’t—”
“I didn’t relay this message because I knew you would have been there and would have called him yourself.”
None of what he said made sense. Jonas should have at least shot her a text message. She wouldn’t have been rushing this morning.
“Besides,” he continued, “he should be there by now.”
“He’s not. There’s no one here.” But a tiny part of her still wondered if he’d shown up and left. Of all the days to forget her folder. And the one thing she hadn’t memorized was his number.
“Just wait it out. I have to go, my hot water is running.”
“Wait, I still need—” he hung up, “his number…” she finished.
Wait it out? She had to wait it out? How could she when she didn’t have the slightest clue if he arrived or not? She needed his number.
Deciding to wait a few minutes for her boss to shower, she made herself comfortable against the gate.
Inside the property, short hedges decorated the driveway on both sides, spanning from the gate to the main entrance of the house. If she walked, it may take her five minutes to meet the front door.
When ten minutes passed, she dialed Jonas’ number again. He didn’t answer. Not even after her third try.
Huffing a breath, Sierra exited the gate and leaned against the peach wall near the security booth.
The only thing that seemed comfortable enough to sit on was the slab of concrete at the side of the gate.
She didn’t want to dirty her outfit by sitting close to the floor, but if she had to stand in her heels for another ten minutes, she would.
At 8:20 a.m., Sierra sat on the floor with her shoes in her hand. She wanted to leave. Heck, she should leave. For every minute she sat there, she believed Jonas was playing a prank on her.
He never answered her six calls after she spoke to him. And for Mr. Burhan, she was convinced he had shown up already. But then she believed he would have called Jonas to complain about her tardiness.
She sucked her teeth and stood, slipping on her heels. She was tired, and it seemed highly unlikely that Mr. Burhan would show up. She walked to the gate and yanked the passenger gate close.
Slipping the lock into the hole, Sierra stilled, and then her head whipped over her shoulder when the gravel crunched behind her.
A black, tinted Lexus pulled up some mere feet behind her. Leaving the bolt unlocked, she turned fully to get a better view of the vehicle but she could only see the driver inside of the jeep.
Maybe they’d come to kidnap her or something. She held her purse tighter and side-stepped from the front of the vehicle.
After a minute, the door at the back, behind the driver’s seat, opened.
Black shiny shoes touched the pavement beneath the door and then a fair hand with a gold ring on the middle finger touched the top of the door.
Sierra swallowed a lump when Mr. Burhan’s beautiful, bearded face emerged from behind the door.
His neatly trimmed beard and mustache had her on edge. He’d been a jaw-dropper in his pictures, but…but in person, she had no words to describe him.
As he stepped toward her with great posture, she found herself immovable like a hundred-year-old tree.
Normally, she would make the first move and outstretch her hand and introduce herself, but in a situation like this, she was dumbstruck.
Her mind went numb and a simple hello seemed near impossible to say.
Mr. Burhan slid his aviator sunglasses over his forehead. “Good morning, I’m—”
“Adrian Burhan,” Sierra said, cutting him off. “And you’re late.” Of all the things she couldn’t summon to say, she had to open her trap and say something disrespectful. Strike one, Sierra. Strike one.
He tilted his head, seeming to analyze her.
When Sierra thought the worst of it, she quickly apologized. “Mr. Burhan, I’m sorry for—”
“Please, call me Adrian.”
She cleared her throat. “Adrian, I apologize for my assertiveness. I am sure you had other important things to deal with that took preference over this.”
He moved to stand beside her. “I should be the one to apologize.”
One simple step had her inhaling in his woody cologne. He was so close that if he moved his arm, it would collide with hers. Unconsciously, Sierra moved two inches away.
At the same time, his vehicle roared to a start and slowly backed away from their direct view.
“Is the person leaving?” she asked.
He shook his head. “No, they are turning around.”
“Oh…Okay.” Then the van reappeared, this time, its rear end crawling toward them.
“I believe I didn’t get your name.”
“Oh! How unprofessional of me. My name is Sierra Parker—Real Estate agent for River’s Property Rush.” When he reached for a shake, she hesitantly took it for fear of something odd might happen. When their hands touched, the bare connection made her heart sing. His hand was soft, but she also felt tiny callouses. He gripped her firm, but gentle, not wanting to let go.
Their eyes held for a second and Sierra broke the connection, turning toward the gate. “Well,” she said, fumbling with the lock, “this is it. Not all of it, but you get the point, I’m sure. I’ll take you inside to see how much of a beauty she is.”
“She?” he said, “Why not he?”
“You’ll see,” she beamed. The gate squeaked open and Adrian allowed her to enter first. He motioned to his driver that he’d be back and moved to walk alongside her.
“Is it usually this chilly in Vancouver?” he adjusted his grey scarf around his neck.
“In September, yes, at times. It doesn’t get any hotter from here. September is quite good compared to the rest of the year. But I think you’ll be fine.”
“Will I?”
She smiled. “Positive. If you buy this house, then it will surely keep you warm this winter. It has thermal properties in almost every space. You can climb out of the shower and not worry about freezing your butt off because the room calculates the temperature at which you showered and adjusts itself to ensure you stay warm.”
“Wow. I’m not even inside the house as yet and I’m already impressed.”
“It also adjusts for the summer too,” Sierra added.
As they neared the end of the driveway, Adrian stopped at the hedge and picked a tiny purple flower. He smelled it and continued walking, taking the lead in front of her.
The weird gesture took a few seconds to register before Sierra could catch up with him. She noticed he still had the delicate flower in his hand. She cleared her throat. “So before we step inside, let me do the honor and show you the garage.”
At the end of the driveway, they turned left, onto the stony peach tiles and walked close to the border of the hedges. One main reason Sierra chose the house, was because of the garage.
It was large enough to hold his fast cars and even more.
“Is everything opened by a key?” Adrian asked as Sierra unlocked the small bolt at the edge of the garage door.
“Oh, no! Everything is electronic, but the owners attached padlocks to most of the areas that would need access in a viewing. If someone buys, everything would be back to its original state.”
“What if I wanted to see how it worked?” he asked, eyeing the roof of the garage.
“I can show you if you want…”
“It’s fine. Open the door and let me see what I’m working with.”
She nodded, bending to pull and push the broad white door up and above her head. When the door didn’t budge, she gave it a hard tug and then yelped, “Shit!”
Adrian rushed beside her, “Are you okay?” When she bunched her fingers, squeezing them tightly with her left hand, he reached for her right hand and inspected it. “Did you hurt it?”
Sierra jerked her hand away from him. “I…Yes. But it’s fine now,” she snapped. She’d twisted her nails on the rim of the door, causing one the break.
But when Adrian reached for her hand and held it, her heart lurched at the sudden connection. Something about him made her hesitant.
And the way he stared while they walked along the driveway, it made her queasy. She eyed him at intervals and even sniffed his cologne. Maybe it was his olive skin or the way he looked like a model straight off of Pinterest.
She admired how neat his beard had been, and it wasn’t as long as those in the papers or magazines—it was short, trimmed, and marked.
When she attempted to lift the door again, he stepped into her space, “Let me.” With one tug, the door lifted, revealing a large cream-colored room.
This wasn’t a garage. No, not to Sierra. It was two of her apartments combined. It looked like a studio with bright white lights and shiny floors. She wondered how on earth the owners kept the floors sparkling clean.
Viewing the house came as much of a surprise to her as it did to Adrian. She’d never been to the house but had been briefed from pictures and some of Conrad’s notes he’d combined after trying to sell with previous clients.
Sierra never thought the house would have been more than the pictures. “This is a lot of space,” she said, eyeing him. Of all the words she could have said, that was what she came up with? She sounded like an amateur. “Do you have vehicles, Mr. Burha—Adrian?”
He grinned. “Yes. I have six. Two I’ve acquired just this week.”
Sierra’s eyes widened. Six? She scanned the room to see if it could actually fit six. Maybe if they parked close…She’d worked it out earlier that the garage was large enough to accommodate five cars comfortably. Six was pushing it. “Oh…”
“But I won’t have all of them with me. I’m looking for a house to relax in. Something that would make me feel at home, but away from home.”
Sierra pondered. Home away from home. “So, do you like it? What do you think?”
“I think the lighting is too bright and should be a warm color instead of white. But that can be an easy fix. Otherwise, it’s…cool.”
“But wait, there’s more.” Now that Sierra had seen the garage with her own eyes, she was excited to see everything else. “Would you do me the honor of pulling the garage door completely close?”
“Adrian lifted a brow,” his interests piqued. When she tilted her head, jerking it toward the door, he did as she said.
“So, it’s going to get a little dark for a second, but…” she ran over to the other end of the room and turned the dial on the wall. “Don’t worry it has a remote for this too.” Instantly, the room fell into pitch darkness with only a small line of light beaming from beneath the garage door.
Sierra couldn’t see anything and cursed under her breath when she’d forgotten where the other switch was. “Just a second!” she yelled, feeling her way around the original switch.
She tapped the button on the wall and strobes of blue, white, and purple light illuminated the floor and the ceiling. It almost looked like a scene in Tron except, this was better. Sierra looked around. Although the lights lit the room, it was still difficult to see fully.
“Adrian?” she looked around again. “Uh…Mr. Burhan?” Her heart sped up, and she moved toward the middle of the room. She remembered him standing by the door…but he wasn’t there. “Mr. Burhan!”
“Yes?”
Sierra yelped, jumping back as Adrian appeared beside her. “Shit, you frightened me.”
“Did I?”
Sierra squinted. Was that a smirk? As anxiety took over, she stepped away from him. What was his problem? Who would sneak up on someone like that? A psychopath. “Okay…so this was the surprise,” she said shakily. “Let’s move to the house.”
“We’re finished already?” Adrian looked up and around. “I think I would love this the most.”
She switched the main lights on and then touched the button for the strobe lights. “Wait until you’ve seen the house.”
“I—” Adrian’s phone rang out. “Excuse me.” He lifted the door above his head and stepped outside before placing the phone to his ear.
Sierra’s eyes followed him, taking in his well-built figure. Adrian was tall, about six feet something for sure, and had a firm butt that looked exquisitely delicious in his dark grey trousers.
She always had a thing for men with petite butts. Oh, God. Sierra cleared her throat. She needed to stop—she had a boyfriend.
But as he turned to the side and took a stroll, she noticed how pointed the tip of his ears had been—almost like a fairy. She smiled. Then he turned toward her, stuffing the phone in his back pocket.
Sierra straightened and kept the smile she wore before, even though she was ogling his backside.
“I apologize for that, but—”
“It’s okay,” she cut him off. “Shall we get to it?” She walked ahead of him, into the sun. She shielded her eyes from the glare.
“Uh…Ms. Parker? I—”
“No, please, call me Sierra.”
His voice lowered, “Sierra.”
“Yes?”
“I apologize, but I will have to reschedule this visit. I have a matter to attend to.”
She frowned. “Oh, you do?” Crap, crap, crap. No! She’d blown it. The one chance she had and she’d blown it. Maybe he’d caught her checking him out and was disgusted. Or maybe it was how she’d gotten petrified when he appeared behind her. Whenever clients said the word reschedule, it never happened. It was just a tactic to get out of an awkward situation.
“Yes, how about tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow?” she repeated—confused.
“Yes, I believe that’s what I just said.”
“Yes, of course. Tomorrow is fine.”
But as they walked along the driveway, back to the gate, Sierra froze.
Adrian stopped alongside her, “Is everything okay?”
She feigned a smile. “Yes.” But everything wasn’t fine. Tomorrow was Saturday—a non-working day. Not only that, but she also had a cookout with Kristoff’s family to attend for ten in the morning. One she’d avoided last year and promised to attend this year.
Shit!
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