Page 40 of Shark’s Edge

I needed close, carnal knowledge of Sebastian Shark.

The agonizing admission matched the painful wait I was about to face over the next days.

I seriously never thought I’d crave steak and wine this much in my life.

Chapter Eight

Sebastian

“What does that mean in English, Brookside?” I looked at my watch while pulling the cork from the wine. The decanter Pia had given me for Christmas would finally get some use, as I planned to let the young Bordeaux sit for the two hours remaining before Abbigail was due to arrive.

“It means we’re ready to break ground, Shark. Exactly on schedule. I thought you’d be ecstatic.” Annoyance laced his voice, but I held my tongue.

“I am. I wanted to be sure I understood you correctly. So many roadblocks have been put in our path, I think I was just expecting you to be calling with another one.” If he expected an apology, he’d be waiting a while.

As in, forever.

The soils engineer’s report had been in my email inbox that morning, and trying to make heads or tails of most of it was like trying to decipher the human genome map. I had talked to Grant about it for fifteen minutes before we both agreed to wait for Brookside’s call and hear his personal take on the information.

It wasn’t helping matters that most of my mind was preoccupied with making dinner for the feisty young redhead who was due—I looked at my watch again—in an hour and fifty-two minutes. Time was ticking away, and I still had a hundred things to do in order to have all the components of the meal come together at the same time. I’d tried to keep the menu simple so I wouldn’t make an ass out of myself with overcooked meat and undercooked potatoes. It was a bit unnerving preparing food for a professional caterer, but I wouldn’t let the stress get to me. For all she would know, I had this mastered, like everything else I took on.

“Shark? You still there?” Brookside asked.

Shit. Totally forgot I was still on the phone.

“Yeah.” I cleared my throat. “Yes, I was reading an email that just came in. Listen, I need to take care of this. Where do we go from here? We have the ceremony for the press in a few weeks, but what’s the next step on-site?”

“Well, the survey team should be there to mark off the auger cast piles. That’s according to the last copy of your GC’s schedule—that I have, at least. I’m sure you have a copy of that too?”

It was more of a dig than a confirmation. Almost a you should be asking your job supervisor these things, not me, you idiot type of remark.

“That’s scheduled for Monday and Tuesday,” he continued. “If all goes well and they did their homework, you could be digging by the end of the week. All depends on your sub’s schedule.”

“Thanks for all you’ve done, Jonathan. I’ll reach out to Ricardo to see if he has everything lined up. I’m sure he does, but you’re right. It wouldn’t hurt to check in with him.” I tapped out a note on the nearby iPad I was using to look up dinner recipes.

“And if he’s worth what you’re paying him, he won’t mind you babysitting him a little bit. I’ve seen that man’s fee schedule. You’ve got one of the highest-paid generals in the country on your job site. He should be serenading you every day like Elvis.”

I chuckled. “Right, okay. Just send your bill to the project’s accounting department. I’m sure Terryn gave you that information when you were at the office?” I asked by way of ending the conversation.

“Yep, we’re good to go. Good luck, Shark. I look forward to seeing your building in the LA skyline.”

“You and me both.” I stabbed the End button and tossed my phone onto the kitchen counter.

First order of business was peeling and dicing the potatoes so I could get them cooked. That way all I had to do after Abbi arrived was mash them and add the roasted garlic.

I had coated the bulb of garlic with olive oil and wrapped it securely in foil. It was roasting in the oven on a nice, low temperature, and it filled the kitchen with the heavenly smell of earthy, pungent garlic. My mouth watered just thinking of how delicious the meal would be. And, if things went like I planned, how delectable Abbigail would be afterward.

I was anxious to get her on my turf and in the complete privacy of my home. She had sent back all the necessary documents. Most of them were signed, but a few items were lined out and others were highlighted. Even that made me chuckle and throb in my boxers.

She had the strangest way of getting to me, and working her out of my system was becoming an urgent need. The biggest project of my life was finally taking shape, and I really didn’t have time to be skirt chasing. I needed to be one hundred percent focused on my building.

The appetizers were easy to make but delicious. Grape tomato, baby arugula, prosciutto, and fresh shrimp Craig picked up at the farmers’ market that morning. The perfect combo of flavors nestled on a mini skewer. The shrimp were marinated in a zesty citrus blend beforehand so the flavors would pop in your mouth when you bit into the snack. It was the impeccable starter for the beef-heavy meal.

I had an hour before show time. Off to the shower to freshen up while the water came to a boil for the potatoes and the roasted garlic cooled enough to spoon from the skin. I’d fire the steaks on the grill just before we ate, and the asparagus would be roasted on the grill too. Everything was completely under control. I’d had Craig set the table out on the patio before he left earlier this afternoon, so I was right on schedule.

Forty minutes later, I paced back and forth in the foyer. How could I be so nervous? And why did I live in such a big house? It was impossible to be near the kitchen to keep an eye on the food and close to the front door after the guards at the gate let me know Abbigail was on the property. Me and my big ideas to send the staff home early so she wouldn’t feel awkward with other people milling around. These were the exact reasons I had people paid to work in my home, for Christ’s sake.

When the doorbell chimed, I nearly jumped out of my skin. I’d gotten so wound up in my browbeating, I’d all but forgotten why I was wearing a path in the large flower pattern of the entryway. I took a calming breath and pulled open the soaring twenty-foot-high leaded glass door. The dark walnut wood and inlaid glass made the thing weigh a ton, something I had never really appreciated before. It might have been the first time I actually opened the door myself.