Chapter One — Smith.

I watch my assistant shut the door on her way out of the building.

After several unsuccessful dials to Smith, I pick up a file I'm working on and begin to flip through until he gets here. We're going to check out the land site for our intending Five-star hotel project downtown. The landowner, a strong young man in his thirties promised to meet up with us at a small restaurant off Palova Lane and Smith's got the blueprints. The contractors found hard copies great in making concrete plans.

Bored, I take out my phone and place a call across to Yna, my younger sister. She picks at the fourth ring and I tell her about Miles coming over so they could talk. She's been moody all week, slamming cupboards and crying in her room. It's not a surprise if she'd anticipated my call. I was always the one who urged Miles to make the first move of reconciliation.

As I push the file away and stand to move out of the office, Smith surfaces with the blueprints in hand. I quickly hang up and send her a text, asking her to be calm and listen patiently to Miles.

“We still have an hour more to go. How about you catch some fun back home while I go deliver this? I'm free tonight,” he intones and I shake my head.

“No Smith, you're the one who needs fun. Go home to Cecilia and help out with the Thanksgiving decorations. I trust she'll thank me for it.” I tuck the prints into my bag and we head out of the office together. “Tell her she owes me some stew. I mean this,”

“I'll let her know,” he chuckles as I clamber onto my SUV. Drake, my driver turns to look at me expectantly. I give him the directions and wave Smith goodbye.

I receive a text from Miles telling me he's talking with Yna and she's been listening quietly so there's a possibility of a patch-up between them. I sigh contently and hang up, texting the landowner next that I'm on my way. He replies that he's waiting.

I snort, well aware of these work tactics. It's like a pattern where one hurries to an appointment or meeting, fearing lateness and ends up waiting for hours instead. I work for extra hours since I'm tasked with overseeing every project my company undertakes all over the country. It's a wonder the landowner is still opting for a sale this holiday. The site is big and serves as a perfect location for our business to take off. Smith drew my attention to the land because he's the only one who goes around, surveying and reporting his observations back to me while my job is to talk with the clients.

When the car screeches to a halt, I take a deep breath and look out beyond the perimeter. “I'll be back soon,” I tell Drake as I climb down and walk through the brown gates.

From a distance, I see a flashlight, blazing directly at me with a figure moving in the darkness behind it. I become convinced he's coming my way.

“Hello!” I shout, flailing my arms up to grab attention as I walk closer to the light, shielding my eyes with my arms.

“Finally, the human shows up. Whoever knew the bosses were the tardy ones,” the voice that says this sounds tiny and immature and this irks my curiosity. Have I sealed a deal with a kid?

The crunch of gravel, accompanied by the hoot of an owl nearby disrupted the still atmosphere. I shield my eyes from the powerful flashlight pointed at me as the figure emerged, closing the distance between us with longer strides. He stops before me and our eyes lock. A warm fuzzy feeling creeps up the back of my neck but I don't bother touching the itch. I've never seen any eyes like his before — Deep, cerulean blue that cuts through my emotions.

He's got his slick dark hair curled backwards which complements the dark t-shirt he has on beneath his construction jacket which fitted his lean physique. He dresses simple and this makes his alluring features noticeable.

His blue eyes crinkled at me after a few minutes. “Are you the man meant to give me the prints?”

His steel voice makes me jolt as I stepped back a little, my composure disorganized. “Um, yeah I'm the one,” I hold out the small leather bag containing the prints. “Are you Sam Seville?”

“No, he's my boss,” he takes the prints from me and tucks them under his arms. It's cold enough for his soft breath to fan across my face. I stand still, not offering anything else but just wondering which Paradise he fell out from. What makes him look so ethereal that I'm trapped staring at him longer than I should? Yet I sense dark signals...he could be aggressive.

“Okay, so when do I get to meet him?”

“Anytime you like, he's the one doing business with you. I'm just a messenger who's got to take these prints to him now,” he turns to leave but I surprise us both by clutching his arm.

“Hold on a second,” my temples burn as I don't have anything to say other than I'd like him to stay a bit longer. “How are you a messenger? He has no helpers,”

“That's not supposed to be your business. All that matters is that I'm delivering the prints to him, your hotel project would start before the end of the month so, be happy,”

“After that, we're done?” I'm desperate for a positive gesture from him.

“Yeah, that's it,” he huffs, jerking out of my grasp. “What else did you expect? We'd get together for coffee like we know each other? Sorry, not up for those, I need to get to something back home. Bye,”

“Wait,” I call out when he begins to walk away from me. “You didn't tell me your name,”

He stops but doesn't turn around, his shoulders hunched. “It's Trent,” he says, disappearing into the dark. I wait till I hear his footsteps fade before making my way out of the gate and into my SUV.

I still feel a tug in my chest, a tug of something big, something I never knew existed before as it surges, first a spark and then a flutter. Who the heck is he and what did he just do to me?