Военная мысль Китая. Группа авторов

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his planning and goal-setting and returning for his interview with Dr. Caldwell, not once had he considered that he might actually see Maddie. Seeing her in that gown was a shock. He hadn’t counted on his immense reaction to her—even from a distance. He hadn’t planned for jealousy.

      His entire past with her rumbled over him like a tsunami, and he was swept away in it. For the first time in a long time, he felt helpless. He didn’t know who the other guy in her life was, but at this moment he couldn’t imagine any man having ever loved a girl as much as he’d loved Maddie Strong.

      Nate expelled a deep breath as a new realization hit him like a fist to his chest. I still do.

      MADDIE PARKED IN a garage off West Lake and South Wacker drives, as she had on her previous trips to Chicago to meet with Alex. She walked down Wacker to the large granite-and-glass office building that housed Ashton and Marsh and checked in with the security guard at the front desk. The guard was a tall, older man with a barrel chest so large, Maddie wondered if he wore a bulletproof vest under his shirt. She noticed he had Mace, a billy club and a pistol attached to his thick leather belt. Maddie should have been used to him by now, but still she found herself swallowing hard as she approached him. She was certainly not in Indian Lake.

      “Maddie Strong to see Alex Perkins at Ashton and Marsh.”

      “I see it here,” the man said, running his finger down a list of today’s appointments for all the offices in this building. “Sixth floor. Hey, I remember you! Maddie, isn’t it?” He smiled broadly.

      “Yes. Thanks for remembering.”

      “No one would forget you,” he said with an appreciative glimmer in his dark eyes.

      “See you on the way out,” she said, and crossed the black granite floor to the bank of brass elevator doors. She pressed the up button and watched the numbers tracking the elevator’s descent.

      Almost a dozen people walked out of the elevator when the doors opened. Maddie noticed, once again, that nearly everyone looked to be about her age; men and women handsomely dressed, smiling and chatting with one another about which restaurant in the area was best for lunch.

      So very not Indian Lake.

      Maddie got in the elevator and hit the button for the sixth floor.

      When she stepped off the elevator, she was face-to-face with enormous, heavy glass doors etched with the Ashton and Marsh name and logo.

      The reception area was decorated sparely, with modern Asian furniture and a few plants. The reception desk was a curved glass block, lit from the inside and topped with tortoiseshell granite.

      “Hi,” Maddie said to the new receptionist, who hadn’t looked up from her computer screen when she’d walked in. “I have an appointment with Alex Perkins.”

      The girl lifted her beautiful face, her scarlet lips covered in enough gloss to refract fluorescent light. “And you are?”

      “Maddie Strong.”

      The receptionist’s expression lit up. “You’re the cupcake lady!”

      “Uh. Yes. I guess so.”

      “I was so excited to meet you.” The girl practically jumped out of her chair to shake Maddie’s hand. “I love your concept. Alex, I mean Mr. Perkins, let us taste the cupcakes you sent. They were to die for! I’ve never had anything so...decadent,” she practically squealed.

      “I’m glad you liked them.”

      “I loved them! We all did. Oh, gosh. So sorry. I’ll let Alex’s assistant know you’re here.” She tapped her earpiece. “Sean. Miss Strong is here to see Mr. Perkins.” She nodded several times, still looking at Maddie as if she’d just seen her first Christmas. “Sean will be right out. Alex is finishing up a call. It won’t be long. Would you like a water or some tea? We have a nice variety. Hot or cold?”

      “Water is just fine,” Maddie replied as she glanced around for a comfortable chair. She spotted an angular S chair next to a gold pot that held six-foot-high bamboo.

      Maddie sat down, and though there was a smattering of financial magazines and newspapers laid out in painfully neat rows on the glass coffee table, she was too nervous to read anything. Not only had Alex implied that a bona fide investor might be in her future, but there was the matter of his ostentatious Valentine’s flowers and his text to her last night: Can’t wait to see you.

      What did that mean, exactly?

      The receptionist came back, her high-heeled boots clomping on the wood floor, and handed Maddie a chilled bottle of water. “My name’s Mia, by the way. Julie left two weeks ago.” Mia leaned close. “Pregnant.” With a toss of her hair, she twirled away gleefully, as if she’d just won the lottery.

      Just then, a thin man in his early twenties nearly pounced into the reception area from the long hallway leading to the offices. “Miss Strong? Mr. Perkins will see you now.” He looked down at her water and briefcase. “Can I take any of that for you?”

      “I’m fine,” Maddie replied, hoisting her purse strap onto her shoulder and following Sean.

      “So nice to see you again,” Sean babbled. “You do know we all just adore your cupcakes. Just yummy,” he said. “I can’t eat too many sweets, you know. Bad for the waistline, and God forbid I’d develop diabetes or something.”

      They arrived at Alex’s enormous corner office with a window that peeked through to a narrow view of the Chicago River. “Thank you, Sean,” she said.

      “Ciao,” Sean chirped and whisked himself away.

      Alex rose from his desk. “Maddie! You look terrific.” He walked around his desk and took her hand, leading her to a chair opposite his. “Please, sit. Thanks for meeting me at the office. I had some calls to New York and I just couldn’t put them off any longer. I’ve been swamped since I got back.”

      “Understandable,” she said. “This is fine.”

      “Actually, it’s not.”

      “No?”

      “Is Bandera okay with you?”

      “Uh,” she stammered, not understanding what he was talking about.

      “I mean, we could go to a sushi bar if you like. Or Thai? There’s a great Thai restaurant...”

      Maddie giggled, covering her mouth with her hand. “Bandera is a restaurant.”

      “Yeah. American food. That okay?”

      “Sure. I’ve never been there.”

      “Oh. Right. Sure.” His expression became serious. “I guess I should tell you right off the bat I found you an angel.”

      Maddie’s eyes widened. “For real? But I haven’t even shown you my new concept drawings for the café interiors. My friend, Sarah Jensen, did them for me.” Maddie dug into the leather briefcase that Mrs. Beabots had loaned her and

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