trial and error that there wasn’t enough sun to grow some of the first flowers she’d attempted. She now had gorgeous hostas and exotic grasses, some columbine, day lilies, lamium and hydrangeas around the perimeter.
When the watering was done, she picked up her glass of wine and settled into one of the wicker chairs beside the table. Voices drifted over the brick wall between her yard and the one next door—low words, a soft laugh. The young couple who lived there, newly married and in love. Lovely for them.
Yes, there were moments when she felt very alone. Despite her love for her home, sometimes she wished she had someone to share it. But dating and relationships had never gone very well for her. In the last couple of years, she’d pretty much given up on that. She had a fulfilling career, which she loved, that required a lot of socializing with clients, and lots of acquaintances. At work she had Mason, her closest work friend. The two of them were so alike. They didn’t talk about a lot of personal stuff, but they got each other.
She didn’t believe a woman needed a man to be complete.
She sipped her wine and looked up at the blue sky above, turning a paler blue as the sun set—the color of Levi Wolcott’s eyes.
Sloane was talking to Bailey Harris, one of their media buyers, about a problem with some advertising space in Sports Illustrated that was a part of a media plan Kaleb had developed when Levi Wolcott arrived at work the next morning. Late.
Very late.
She glanced at her watch, then at him with a raised eyebrow.
“Good morning.” He flashed that devastating smile.
Bailey let out a soft little sigh.
Sloane cast her an irritated frown, though the smile gave her the same reaction. But he could not coast through life using that smile as a way to get away with whatever the hell he pleased.
“Good morning, Levi,” she said crisply. “I’ll be in my office in five minutes. Join me there.”
“Sure.” He gave Bailey a wink and continued into his own office.
“Find Kaleb and Noah,” she said to Bailey. “We’ll meet in my office in half an hour.”
“Okay, Sloane. Thanks.”
Bailey tapped away in high-heeled sandals. The advertising business wasn’t one that had strict dress codes, but Sloane had taken Bailey aside shortly after she’d started at Huxworth Packard about a year ago to talk about her wardrobe. All the guys thought she was a cute, blonde ditz, and if that was the image she wanted, fine, but Sloane had seen that she was a bright young woman, and had teased out that she wanted to move up in the business. She wanted to work on the account side. Bailey hadn’t realized the impression she was creating with the short skirts, tight tops and high heels she’d been wearing. Sloane had given her some advice, telling her she could still be feminine and stylish, but it was better if people noticed her brains rather than her…boobs.
The guys still noticed her boobs, of course. No getting around that when you were built like Bailey. Sloane smiled ruefully as she headed to her office.
Levi.
Damn him, he was going to make her do this on his second day there.
She got to her office before he did and took the seat behind her desk. Levi strode in moments later with the cup of Starbucks coffee he’d been carrying when he walked in. He looked just as good as he had yesterday, a casual sports jacket over a button-down shirt that he’d left untucked. The air of self-assurance and his confident smile made her…crazy. It made her chest tighten and her breathing go uneven.
This was ridiculous. She was an experienced businesswoman, an account executive who’d worked with swaggering creatives like him for many years. What was it about this guy that was pushing her buttons? She was better than this. Not only that, he was about to be married.
“Have a seat,” she said with a sharp gesture. “And you might want to close the door.”
“Sure.” He did as she asked. “What’s up?”
“You were late this morning.”
He lifted his eyebrows. “Uh…a few minutes.”
“We start at nine.”
“I was here until nine last night.”
His steady gaze almost made her throw her hands up. “That doesn’t matter. Joseph Huxworth didn’t see you here at nine last night. But he did see you come in at nearly ten this morning.” She leaned forward. “I just want expectations to be very clear. We don’t make our own