The young woman glanced up and smiled with obvious pleasure. “Welcome to Tremaine Financial, and you’re…Kenzie? I recognize your voice from when you phoned.”
“In the flesh. My friend Easton is expecting me.” At her choice of words, the receptionist cast Kenzie a curious look. She had no idea why she’d describe the man as such, but it didn’t matter. No one needed to know their real relationship, that she’d just met him and was more like a consultant.
“Yes, he called down just a few minutes ago. If you’ll follow me, I’ll lead you to the waiting area. There’s coffee and tea and some pastries if you’d like them. Ordinarily, I would take you to his office, but they’ve had meetings all morning. It’s pretty hectic when Easton and Ethan come in.”
Judy rambled on, but Kenzie was busy glancing around, taking in the office. Workers scurried about on the way to who knew where, and others met over important-looking papers at their desks. A ticker sign ran along the top portion of one wall, displaying numbers she recognized as something to do with Wall Street. The noise level was minimal, and although she passed a water cooler, no one milled about it. All the employees dressed in business attire, most of the women in skirts. Kenzie cringed. She missed her shop with all its noise, calling out orders, and people laughing.
“Here we are,” Judy announced. “I’ll let Mr. Tremaine know you’re here.”
“Thanks, Judy. Greatly appreciate it.” Kenzie grabbed a seat, forgoing the refreshments offered.
With nothing better to do, she people watched. Glass-enclosed offices lined the wall opposite to where she sat, and she guessed they were for people on a VP level. These people must have an incredible view of downtown Boston, she thought, looking through and catching a glimpse of the outside. One of the doors opened, and a man with red hair and beard stepped out, followed by another man. Butterflies stirred in her belly when the second man smiled and shook the first one’s hand. A flash of perfect white teeth and a deep, familiar voice had her blinking and squinting. Not until a woman strode by and greeted Mr. Sexy, calling him Ethan, did she realize she wasn’t looking at Easton at all. Did he have a twin?
As she stared, intrigued, she began seeing the differences. This man, although just as fine as Easton, wore his dark hair in a different hairstyle. The icy blue eyes were identical, but maybe a hair warmer than Easton’s. Still, she caught the obvious breeding and the familiarity of living a life of privilege.
Ethan said a few more words to his companion and then strode from view. She scanned the floor and fidgeted in her chair, frowning. How long would Easton keep her waiting? This was not her element at all.
“Hello.”
She jumped on hearing his voice, and when she stood to face him, she didn’t know how she had mistook the other man for him. Easton had a presence that could not be matched or duplicated. “I was about to leave. I—”
“No.” He took her hand, silencing her with a touch, and yet, it wasn’t sexual. “You agreed to go to lunch with me, and if you have a boss over you, please tell me his name, and I will get you cleared for a longer break.”
She retrieved her hand and glided past him the best she could. “You know I don’t.”
He fell into step beside her and smiled. “Then we don’t have a problem.”
No excuse came to mind to refute this argument, so she let him have it. They left the office and headed for the elevator. Kenzie couldn’t miss the sometimes curious, other times resentful gazes tossed her way as they left his company grounds. More than one woman wanted Easton, and he seemed not to notice any of them. She couldn’t help feeling flattered that he focused all his attention on her as they chatted.
At the curb, he paused while his driver opened the car door. She preceded him inside.
“Do you always travel by limo?”
“No, just when it’s convenient. I don’t like wasting time with mundane things when I can make better use of it. Besides, this isn’t the limo. It’s the BMW.”
She rolled her eyes.
They soon pulled up to a steak house restaurant that Kenzie had been to only once or twice, but she knew the bill for two people could run pretty high if one wasn’t careful. That problem wasn’t one Easton had ever needed to worry about, if she had to guess.
“Mr. Tremaine,” the host said before Easton could say a word, “I have your table right here, sir. Please follow me.”
They sat down in a private room, already set up with wine wrapped in a towel and chilling in a bucket of ice. Easton held her seat, and she sat down, thanking him. He waved aside the waiter who had walked up to serve them. Easton poured the two of them wine and without looking at the menu said, “I’ll have the twelve-ounce rib eye with salad, and she will have the stuffed chicken breast.”