by Lila Kane
“I’m Charlotte Evans.” When it came out as a whisper, I tried again. “I’m here for—”
“Ms. Evans. Of course.” The secretary stood and walked around the desk to offer her hand. “I’m Leslie. Mr. Moore’s assistant. He’s on a call at the moment, but it shouldn’t be long. Can I offer you anything while you wait?”
While my stomach churned, I spotted Finn pacing on the other side of the windows. He lifted his head and his eyes met mine. It was like getting hit by lightning.
Finn had always affected me like that. Swift, almost painful. There was a time I didn’t think I could live without him.
I changed my mind. I couldn’t do this. I couldn’t work here, with him, in the same building—one he’d had a hand in creating because of one of our many late-night talks. I couldn’t be anywhere near him. Not when anger still simmered inside of me, and my hands shook just thinking about what had happened between us.
“No.” I forced a smile at Leslie. Calm. I had to be calm. “Nothing for me, thanks.”
Then I strode past her and walked right into Finn’s office. His gaze snapped to mine, the phone still pressed to his ear.
He mumbled a quick apology and ended the call. “Ms. Evans, the lobby—”
“Is for people who haven’t been lied to.”
Leslie rushed in after me. “Mr. Moore, I’m so sorry—”
“It’s fine.” He nodded to the door, dismissing her before she could say anything else. “We’ll have our meeting now.”
Her gaze flicked to mine. I couldn’t tell if it was admiration in her look or something else. Admonishment? Funny, since she looked at least a few years younger than me.
Then I flushed when Finn’s gaze skimmed the length of me. I hadn’t seen him since that night in the bar. When he’d been flirting with another girl and my heart had broken.
After Leslie left, I clutched the handle of my briefcase hard and fought to keep my voice even. “You should have told me this was your project. I don’t need a job out of pity.”
Though I did need a job. I needed something. Twenty-eight years old, months past a terrible break-up with my ex-fiancé and an even more terrible relationship with him for years prior. I needed a life and a new home, and working at Oasis was supposed to be the answer.
“Pity?” Finn’s jaw hardened, muscles working in a familiar way that made my stomach clench. He was always so good at reining in his anger. In fact, he was good at a lot of things. Which was why I didn’t think for an instant me being here was a coincidence.
“Is that what you think this is?” Finn asked. “Pity?”
He strode from the bank of windows, his physique bringing me straight back to college. To slow kisses and demanding hands. To a time in my life when I was carefree and reckless. When I acted before I thought.
Like taking this job. It was the first time I’d acted like that since college and look where it had gotten me.
“You should have told me this was your project,” I said.
I tugged at the collar of my shirt. Finn’s eyes dropped to my neck and then returned to my face. I lowered my hand, pretending—not for the first time today—I wasn’t about lose my composure.
“Well, it’s not like we keep in touch,” Finn said, lips curving just slightly. Damn him. He was always so good at getting me riled.
“Thank God for that,” I snapped. It was a cheap shot, but I appreciated the flicker of surprise on his face. I stood a little taller. “I don’t need you to give me a job. I can get one all on my own.”
He pocketed his hands into dark slacks, ones that fit him to a tee. His entire suit spoke of money. Confidence. His cold blue eyes, which had once warmed to mine, locked me in a stare. “Are you finished?”
I shifted from one foot to the other. Okay, yeah, so I’d been a little rude bursting in here. But it wasn’t like he didn’t deserve it. And looking at me like I’d been rude wasn’t making it better. What an ass! I didn’t have to take this.
Lifting my chin, I said, “Yes, I am. I clearly got the wrong idea about this job. I’ll be going now.”
I turned for the door, but Finn was faster. He was in front of me in the blink of an eye, palm flat on the door. “Five minutes.”
His cologne swirled around me, bringing my gaze up to his. I hated the sizzle between us. I hated that he stood only a few feet away, but I could still feel the heat from his body.
I almost said no. Until his face softened.
“Please,” he said. “Hear me out.”
It was the please that did it. I knew from experience Finn wasn’t likely to ask nicely for anything. He was used to getting what he wanted. He made his path, he made things come to him, and he made things happen. Rarely did politeness get him anywhere that confidence could get him faster.
I released a quiet breath and shrugged, unwilling to let him get to me. “Five minutes.”
He gestured to the wide desk. “Have a seat.”
I turned and took in the entire office for the first time. It wasn’t just the imposing desk or the impressive bank of windows aimed toward the city. There was a glass table that seated eight off to my right and another seating area to my left. All leather and dark and sleek. Finn had probably picked it himself.
But there were softer touches, too. A picture frame on the desk. A few books on an end table. Mostly architecture related, but I spotted a travel book, too, and didn’t have to step closer to see it was most likely one of Alaska.
We had a lot of conversations about that, too, our young minds full of possibilities for the future. For travel, for love, for work, for…each other.
I took a seat more hastily than I intended and didn’t miss the slight curve to his lips.
“It’s good to see you,” Finn said.
“You have four minutes now.”
Which only made his smile widen. “Better get to it, then.” He folded his hands on top of his desk. “I didn’t know you’d applied for the job. In fact, the level you applied for is handled by someone else, as evident by your interview. Your qualifications impressed my staff and they brought your application to me to consider the other position we had open. You can’t blame me if you were perfect for the job.”
“But—”
“Or if the rest of my staff agreed.”
Heat crawled up my neck. No, I couldn’t blame him for that. And it felt good that he wasn’t the only one who thought so.
I frowned. Maybe I was qualified for the job. And truth be told, I thought I was perfect for it. But working with Finn? After all that had happened? It wouldn’t be smart for either of us.
“There’s too much history,” I said finally, the words leaving my mouth in a whisper.
He chuckled. “Really, Charlie? You’re saying you can’t be professional enough to work around that?”
“It’s Charlotte,” I snapped, then frowned again. “I mean, Ms. Evans. Of course I can be professional. You still should have told me you were behind all this. It is—was—an idea. Our idea.”
This sobered him. He leaned back in his chair, lifting one hand to his jaw. “Which is exactly why I called you. First. First when the idea came to me to follow through. Then before we broke ground. And before I did the initial walk-through. And then when we needed a team to get this place going. But you wouldn’t take my calls. Then I found out you were engaged, and you had a job, and…” He swallowed. “It felt like interfering.”
He was right. That’s how I would have taken it. I would have cursed him for messing up my perfect life and dragging up the past. And he was also right about the calls I wouldn’t take. But I couldn’t go there at the time. His betrayal was too fresh in my mind.
“Besides,” he continued, “I didn’t want to risk you turning down the job before you even got here.” He rubbed his thumb absently on his jaw, and it took every ounce of willpower I had to pull my eyes away. “You’re perfect for the position.”
Damn it, he hadn’t had to say the last part with such confidence. Esp
ecially because I agreed wholeheartedly, and I trusted his opinion when it came to business. I was perfect for the job. More, I wanted it. I needed it.
And from the sound of it, the job needed me.
Finn stood abruptly, his eyes traveling to the glass panels separating his office and the lobby. I glanced behind me to find another woman and two men standing at the front desk.
“Listen,” Finn said. “You’re supposed to meet with the team. Get acquainted, get situated. All that. But you look like you need more persuading.”
I stood as well. I wasn’t sure what I needed, but I was dangerously close to accepting the job even if I had to work near Finn. It was too perfect. It had come at a time I needed it most, and even being in the presence of Finnigan Moore wasn’t dissuading me. Not after all that had happened the last few years.
“Let me show you around Oasis,” he said. “It’ll do a better job convincing you than I will.”
I hesitated.
He smiled. “We’re in the testing stage. I want this place to be over the top when we open fully. You can help make it that way.”
I swallowed. “I could do a tour.”
“A tour,” he echoed, nodding his head. “Let’s do it.”
#
Leaving my briefcase behind, I rode the elevator to the main floor with Finn. He leaned casually against the wall as we plunged twenty-two floors down. His gaze fixed on my hand and I clasped my fingers together self-consciously.
Sometimes I could still feel the engagement ring on my finger. More like a handcuff than a blessing. More than once I’d hidden my hands just like I was doing now to deter people from asking questions.
“I’m not engaged anymore,” I said, staring as the numbers for the floors lit up during our descent.
From the corner of my eye, I saw him drop his chin. “I’m sorry.”
“I’m not.”
His chin came back up. I glanced over, a challenge in my eye. He covered his look of surprise. In the past, he might have asked me about it. In the past, he might have taken my hand and pulled me to him and whispered in my ear about secrets and how we shouldn’t have them. But then, he’d been a liar, so I wasn’t ready to tell him my secrets now.
I wasn’t ready to tell anyone. The bruises had finally faded, but nothing else had. Not completely.
Besides, Finn was dangerous. He always made me confide in him whether I originally wanted to or not. He had that quality. Vulnerable when he wanted to be. Trustworthy.
The elevator dinged on the bottom floor and Finn followed me out. When I turned to him, it was straight to business.
“Our lobby,” he said, gesturing, “which accesses three towers for various businesses, including our headquarters for Oasis. We’ve filled up half of tower one and have interest for more than half of the other offices in the other towers. If”—he smiled—“ When , the trial period is over and we open for good, we won’t lack for renters. Not in the second sector, either.”
“Housing,” I said, and he nodded approvingly.
“The Housing Community. Right. We’ll get to that after we see the rest.”
I followed him to a separate set of doors than the ones I’d entered through. These led to a large community space, big enough to fit a small park. In fact, aside from the trams running alongside and over it, the space reminded me a lot of a park. There were trees, paths, benches and a domed ceiling with dozens of clear glass panels to let in the light.
“You can’t really imagine it fully when you see the plans on paper,” I said, choosing one of the paths toward the middle of the space.
“We call it the Commons,” he said, and then touched my back to move us away from a group walking in the opposite direction. I eased from his fingers, keeping my face neutral.
“I refuse to believe you couldn’t picture this even a little,” he said.
If I closed my eyes, I could. Before I even came here, I could. But Finn didn’t need to know that I’d thought about this oasis, our vision for what the future could look like. Yes, we’d been in college. Yes, we’d had bigger dreams then—or at least I had. But Oasis wasn’t out of the realm of possibility. Finn had proven that by building it.
Even without me, he’d probably make it thrive. That was the kind of man he was. Determined, ambitious, almost reckless when it came to both of those. And dedicated.
At least to business. His personal life was another matter.
One I’d been trying to forget for six years. I had for a short while, with Mark. Back when I’d thought he was a different person. I seemed to be making that mistake a lot.
When I looked over, Finn was staring at me. Waiting. It worried me just what he was waiting for.
“More lights,” I said, blurting the first thing that came to mind.
“Excuse me?”
I pointed to the side of the path. It was cement, like a sidewalk, which made sense for the type of shoes that would be walking through here. “If you’re going to have the Commons open in the evenings as well, you’re going to want more lighting. For security purposes and just the general look of things.”
Finn grinned. “This is exactly the kind of thing we need you for. The specifics. How it all fits together and what will work better.”
I was good at the specifics. I had to be. Double checking locks, following the same route to work and home again, changing my email passwords every month. I guess I had Mark to thank for that, despite the irony.
Finn opened his mouth to say something else but seemed to think better of it. “Let’s continue.”
My heels clicked on the sidewalk as we made it to the center of the Commons, and a building that sat empty for the moment.
“Security?” I asked.
Finn rolled his shoulders, stretching his jacket tight across his back for a moment. Don’t look. But that command couldn’t stop images from coming to mind. Whispers of skin in the dark. Those same strong shoulders, muscles bunched in back, as he crawled into bed and beckoned me.
“I thought the same thing. We’ll have check-ins in Business and Housing, of course, and patrols through the other sectors, but we need a central location.”
Through the trees, I spotted each community and the trams running to them. A business sector where we began, and Housing, where I’d seen pictures of furnished apartments that had made me drool a little. Sector Four was Entertainment and connected to a mall accessible from the outside. Half of it was still under construction. And the third sector housed Main, where the essentials were. A daycare for employees who worked in Oasis. A market. Even a pharmacy.
One could live in Oasis for weeks, months even, and never have to step foot into the real world. A haven.
A thrill of belonging went through me.
Finn ventured a step closer. Clouds went over the sun outside and his face shadowed. “I can see it. I can tell you feel it.”
My breath caught. “Feel what?”
“You belong here.”
I looked away, unwilling to give in that easily.
“I have something else to show you before we move on,” Finn said.
When he reached out, almost like he meant to take my hand, my gaze snapped back to his. His jaw shifted like he’d caught the slip too, and was just as surprised and unhappy about it as I was.
“It’s just over here,” he said, voice gruff.
I followed him around the building, where the paths split off. One went in the direction of Main and the other toward Entertainment. Under a nearby tree sat two benches. The air smelled of fresh soil and wood from the seating area.
In between the benches was a plaque on a stand, similar to those used to dedicate locations to the memory of someone or thank them for their donation.
My throat dried. My name was on this one.
I ventured a glance at Finn, but couldn’t hold his gaze.
The plaque read: To Charlotte Evans, for inspiring this oasis, and so much more .
“You…” I stepped back from the benches, fold
ing my arms. The sun returned, filling the Commons with slivers of light. “Finn.”
He smiled.
“Mr. Moore,” I began again, remembering this was supposed to be a business meeting. “That is just the kind of thing I was talking about. Professionalism.”
He stepped closer. I lifted my chin, unwilling to be ruffled by him. But under my breath, I muttered, “Professionalism.”
His lips curved. He was close enough for me to see subtle highlights in his hair, glints of caramel in the dark strands from being out in the sun. There were faint lines around the corners of his mouth—but then, he’d always been quick to smile. It looked like that was still the case.
“This place belongs to you, too, whether you take the job or not.” Finn’s expression went serious while I tried to decipher the meaning of his words. “You inspired it.”
I shook my head. “It was just an idea. One we both had. You made it into what it is.”
“But it wouldn’t be that way without your vision. No—don’t argue. It is what it is. And I want it to be more. I think you know what you want, too.”
I swallowed a quick retort, then rolled my eyes when he smiled again. “This is business. No room for charm.”
“There’s plenty of room.” He stepped back. “But not until you agree.”
“I need…”
“Space.” He pocketed his hands. “A chance to look around and let your thoughts settle.”
Damn Finn and his ability to read my mind so easily. But he’d see soon enough that I was nothing like I’d been in college. People had to change to survive, and I was a survivor.
A survivor who needed this job.
“Take the afternoon,” he suggested. When he removed his hands from his pockets, he had a credit card, and he passed it over. “Get some lunch—”
“I can get my own lunch, thank you very much.” I swatted at the card.
He sighed. “Charlotte. Ms. Moore. It’s from our business account. I was planning on joining you for lunch, as was the rest of the team, but I want you to have the time you need. Alone. Check out the other sectors, familiarize yourself with the layout—you’ll need to know everything about this place. I recommend lunch at the hotel restaurant. Sit out on the patio if you’d like.”
