revealed the information she sought, in that Michel Lanier was investing personal, not Lanier corporate funds. Therefore it was solely Michel to whom she owed professional allegiance.
Stephanie opened her laptop, and began sourcing the necessary data she needed to complete a report. Although film was her area of expertise, she worked on other marketing projects and liaised with several of her associates.
It was almost three when the doorbell rang, and she quickly crossed to open the door before whoever was on the other side could ring the bell again.
Security was an important feature for a single woman living alone with a young child, and aluminum grills covered every window and both doors.
Possibly it was a neighbor, or a hawker canvassing door-to-door.
Stephanie unlocked the paneled wooden door and was temporarily unable to contain her surprise at the sight of Raoul Lanier’s tall frame beyond the aperture.
He looked vital, dynamic, his broad-boned features portraying a handsome ruggedness that was primitive, compelling. Almost barbaric.
Words formed to demand how he’d discovered where she lived. Then they died before they found voice. All Raoul Lanier had to do was lift the telephone and make a few inquiries to elicit the pertinent information.
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