Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Epilogue
I wonder if I can hold my breath for five minutes. Siobhan Gray tried to edge away and create some space between her and her dance partner. The potency of the man’s cologne—she swore he had bathed in it—had her on the verge of passing out. Instead of holding her breath, maybe she should take one big whiff and put herself out of this misery. The effect would be the same.
“You seem too young to be handling all the PR for your family’s company,” he said, breaking into her thoughts.
She pasted a smile on her face while he went on and on about Gray Home Safety. She caught the gazes of her two best friends, who stood across the room with wide grins. Siobhan rolled her eyes and groaned inwardly.
“Did you say something?” her dance partner asked.
Had that groan slipped out? “No, nothing. Just humming along with the music,” she lied. How long is this song, anyway? When it finally ended, he didn’t release her.
“Isn’t this nice?” he asked, tightening his hold.
About as nice as dancing naked in an ice storm. The move came with another gust of his cologne, and Siobhan nearly gagged. She was done. “If you’ll excuse me, there’s someone I need to speak to.” She stepped away from him so fast she stumbled, but quickly righted herself.
He caught her arm. “Are you okay?”
She gave him a tense smile. “Fine, thanks. And thank you for the dance.” She turned and started from the floor. Three steps in, she realized he was right behind her.
“Hold on a minute.” He chuckled nervously. “I was hoping, Sio—Siyo—”
“Sha-von,” she said impatiently.
“Yes, yes. It’s a nice name. What I wanted to ask, Siobhan, is do you think you can pass along my card to your father? I have this great home—”
Siobhan cut him off and ignored the business card in his hand. “Mr....”
“Benson,” he supplied.
“Mr. Benson, if you have a product, idea or anything else, you should speak directly to my father or my brother Brandon.” She pointed them out. “Now, if you’ll excuse me.” She stalked off without waiting for his reply and headed straight for the balcony.
Once outside, she inhaled deeply and drew in a lungful of the sweet night air. She braced her hands on the railing and tried to rein in her anger. As PR director for Gray Home Safety, it seemed as if every man in attendance at tonight’s gala thought they could sweet-talk their way into the family’s company. Siobhan had been here for only an hour and, so far, four men had approached her. The conversations started pleasantly enough but, within a few minutes, ended the same—with a pitch for the next great thing in home safety. She had heard it all, from stair lifts to heated shower chairs.
She was proud of the company her father had started upon his discharge from the army. While he had returned whole, his best friend had not. Disheartened by the difficulty in getting services and accommodations for the disabled, Nolan Gray decided to do something about it by designing them himself. Her father’s friend, Thaddeus Whitcomb, joined the company as a minor partner soon after. More than two decades later, the small company housed in their garage was now one of the largest in-home safety companies in the country. Her brother Khalil had taken the company to a new level when he designed accessible equipment for the fitness center he opened two years ago.
“Here you are, Siobhan. We wondered where you went.”
Siobhan turned from the rail to find her two best friends. “I bet you did, Cynthia.”
“We saw you dancing. Was he a nice man?” Cynthia Johnson was a die-hard romantic. From the time the three of them became best friends in fourth grade, Cynthia had been planning their happily-ever-afters. Siobhan was the only one who hadn’t found her prince.
“Of course he wasn’t,” Kendra Martin tossed out with a chuckle. “Didn’t you see her face, Cyn?”
“It couldn’t have been that bad.”
Kendra leaned close to Siobhan and wrinkled her nose. “Girl, what kind of perfume is that?”
“I’m not wearing any perfume. It must be what’s left of Mr. Benson’s cologne. I thought I was going to pass out.”
Kendra waved a hand. “That is not cologne. It smells more like toi—”
“Don’t say it,” Cynthia interrupted.
The three women looked at each other and burst out laughing. Siobhan shook her head. “He was the worst of the four men tonight.” She frowned. “I’m tired of men trying to come on to me for the sole purpose of working their way into the family business.” She had already traveled that road and had the remnants of the broken heart to prove it. And she was still trying to rebuild her bank account from the fiasco.
“Well, if you dressed like you were thirty-three, instead of seventy-three, men would be tossing you something more than their business cards,” Kendra said bluntly.
Siobhan
