Page 196 of Right Man, Right Time
The assistant looks up at me and says, “ID?”
I smile and dig into my purse for my ID. When I hand it to her, I’m almost worried she’s going to run some quick background check, but instead, she scans it and then prints out a visitors pass for me that I stick on my shirt.
“Through security, top floor.”
I smile and say, “Thank you.”
I work my way through security, get searched, and then head to his office. The building is beautiful. Full of live plants and modern lines, I could see why working for Cane Enterprises would be relaxing even though the demand for success is high.
When I reach the floor I’m supposed to be on, there’s another receptionist, so I stop at her desk. “Can I help you?” she asks.
“Yes, I, uh, I don’t have a meeting, but I would like to see if JP Cane has any availability today.”
Without even checking, the woman shakes her head. “I’m sorry, he has no time in his schedule.”
Exactly what I thought was going to happen.
“I understand,” I say. “I actually met Mr. Cane up in Vancouver at a sponsor event, and he gave me his card.” I flash the card at her. “He said to contact him. Well, I’m here in Los Angeles for the day and really need to talk to him.”
“And as I said, he doesn’t have any time in his schedule.”
“What if . . . what if I just wait around, see if something opens up?”
“You are more than welcome to see if that happens, but I can’t guarantee you anything.”
“I understand, and I appreciate the chance.” I glance behind me at two leather armchairs. “Would it be okay if I sat there?”
“That would be fine,” the receptionist says.
“Thank you.” I smile kindly. “I’m Ollie, by the way. Ollie Owens.”
“Ollie, it’s nice to meet you. I’m Terri.”
“Terri, thank you for letting me crash in your waiting area for the day.”
I walk over to one of the chairs, and just as I take a seat, the elevator doors part, and three extremely attractive men step into the lobby.
Huxley.
JP.
And Breaker.
I know what they look like and what they do for the company, thanks to careful research. I’ve even researched their personal lives and noted that they’re all married.
Each with a cup of coffee in hand, they greet Terri, and as they’re walking by, JP glances over at me and pauses for a moment. Faded recognition crosses over his face as he points his finger at me. “How do I know you?”
“The sponsor event in Vancouver. Ollie Owens,” I say. “I was with Silas Taters.”
“That’s right,” he says. “Ollie Owens?”
“Yes,” I say.
“She’s hoping to slip in to see you today,” Terri says. “I told her your schedule is full, but she’s willing to wait to see if there’s an opening.”
He slowly nods, keeping his eyes on me. He lifts his cup to his lips and takes a sip. “Well, looks like you’re going to have to wait.” And with that, he takes off.
Dammit, and for a second, I thought he’d meet with me quickly.
