A San Diego Romance. Kianna Alexander
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“She’s a real piece of work, your ex.” Vaughn’s phone vibrated, and he looked at the screen briefly before pocketing it.
“You’re telling me. I never should have married her.” When Chris had met Sheila, he’d been on the heels of a serious heartbreak. She’d slid right in to comfort him, and a few months later, she’d announced her pregnancy. “I mean, I don’t regret my kids. They were really the only good thing to come out of our relationship.”
Vaughn smiled. “They’re amazing kids, Chris.”
“Thanks.” Inwardly, he agreed. Jack and Jojo were the best part of his life. He simply wished he could say the same about the circumstances that brought them into this world. He sighed then, wondering if his dealings with women would ever come without the drama. “I don’t know, man. Maybe I’m just not meant to be coupled up. Seems to me my life goes a lot smoother when I’m on my own.”
“That’s what you think now. But if the right one ever comes along, you’ll change your mind.” Vaughn’s grin broadened.
“You and Miranda are different.” Chris knew Vaughn was talking about his new wife, and he was happy for his friend. What Vaughn didn’t know was that the “right one” had already come and gone. Chris had probably already blown his shot at true happiness.
“If you say so. Hey, what’s going on with that latest design project you were after?”
Chris felt his mood lighten as Vaughn changed the subject. “Oh, you mean the new Museum of Sustainable Art? I won the bid.”
Vaughn moved closer, gave Chris a slap on the back. “You snagged it? Hey, congratulations, man.”
“Thanks, V.”
“So, what’s this museum going to be all about?”
Chris scratched his chin as he recalled the description given to him by the developer. “They plan to showcase modern art and sculpture that was created using only green supplies, tools and methods. Should be a pretty interesting place once it’s open.”
“Sounds like it.” Vaughn stood then and grabbed his mug. “You done? I’m taking mine to the sink.”
Chris handed off his mug and watched as Vaughn strode off, disappearing into the small kitchen to deposit the two cups.
When Vaughn returned, he asked, “When are the final blueprints due for this one?”
“I’ve got a couple of months. They want to break ground in September.”
“I see. Well, I’m sure you’ll live up to your world renown and blow them away with your design.” The loud buzzing of Vaughn’s phone sounded then. He checked the screen, then said, “Excuse me, man. I’ve gotta take this.”
Chris nodded, settling back into his seat while Vaughn stepped around the corner to answer the call. He let his mind wander then, away from the stress of his daily life and back to the beautiful face of the only woman who’d ever really had his heart. He could still picture her clearly, despite the years that had passed since he’d last seen her. He felt the smile tilt his lips at the memory of her soft bronze skin, full lips and expressive brown eyes. She’d brought so much joy into his life, yet somehow, he’d been fool enough to let his fears come between them. He’d walked away from her, driven away by the threats of what would happen to his career if he stayed. To this day, he still regretted that decision.
Vaughn returned then, his face creased with worry. “Something’s going down at Elite, Chris. I gotta go.” Vaughn owned an exclusive surf wear company, and he was as passionate about his business as he was about surfing.
Chris balked. “Is it serious? Does it involve PG?”
“I don’t know. Maybe.”
“What about lunch?”
Vaughn shrugged as he headed for the door. “I’m not sure, but I hope I’ll be back by then. I’ll let you know.” On the heels of his words, he left.
Alone in the office, Chris wondered what was going on at Elite.
He also wondered what Vaughn would think had he known Chris was fantasizing about Vaughn’s baby sister.
* * *
As Eliza Ellicott walked through the glass door, entering the Prescott George office, she glanced around the familiar surroundings. The interior was quiet, and she wondered again what exactly the guys did here. Where’s Vaughn? Knowing her older brother, he’d probably gotten caught up in something and forgotten their plans for the day.
She went down the hall, encountering no one. She knew that since the door was open, somebody had to be there. When she stepped into the main lobby area, her gaze landed on the black leather sofa.
She jumped when she saw Christopher Marland reclining there, reading a newspaper. He wore a dark suit, crisp white shirt and emerald green tie.
He looked up, a smile crossing his handsome face when he saw her. “Eliza. It’s been ages. How are you?”
Seeing him had her so out of sorts, all she could manage was to squeak out a hello.
His smile broadened. “Come on in. What brings you to Prescott George?”
She couldn’t help staring at his dark gorgeousness. The smile highlighted his full lips and chiseled jawline and put a sparkle in his coffee-hued eyes. Realizing she couldn’t continue to stand there like a deer in the high beams, she shook herself free of his spell as best she could. “I...uh... Where’s Vaughn? I was supposed to meet him for lunch.”
His expression changed. “Oh, sorry. You just missed him.”
She sighed. “Crap.”
“He got a call from Elite and rushed over there.” He folded the newspaper and set it aside. “I’m guessing there was some emergency that needed his attention.”
Her stomach rumbled. She’d been at the counter at her boutique, Ellicott’s, for four solid hours, and now her body demanded sustenance. “I guess that means I’m on my own for lunch, then.” She turned, intent on leaving the same way she’d come.
“Wait.” Chris’s deep voice gave her pause.
She turned back his way. “What is it?”
“Listen, why don’t you stay and have lunch with me? I mean, you already drove all the way over here.” He stood then, his height towering over her.
She pulled her fallen purse strap back up on her shoulder and swallowed. Christopher Marland, the man who’d broken her heart fourteen years ago, was inviting her to have lunch with him. Alone. She doubted he even knew how crushed she’d been by his leaving. Logic told her to get the hell out of there as fast as her black pumps would carry her. “I don’t know, Chris.”
He moved closer then, entering her personal bubble.