necklace and earrings, she went over her agenda for the day. When she had arrived at Riley Plaza late last night, the security guard on duty had given her a thick packet of information that included a map of the headquarters, her schedule for the next several days, the name and location of her assigned work area, and the key code to the penthouse.
This morning she would meet her liaison and receive an orientation of sorts to review the company’s history and corporate structure. After lunch with Teagan, she would be introduced to the CFO and the head of the women’s division.
She finally found the pieces she wanted—a long, chunky gold chain with a big amber pendant and matching drop earrings. She put them on before heading to the kitchen to grab her bag. She didn’t want to be late and make a bad impression.
As she made her way to the elevators to head downstairs, she wondered if Quinn would participate in today’s meetings. Since he had indicated he had little or no interest in this project, she doubted she would see much of him. That suited her just fine. The more time she spent with him, the greater the likelihood she’d end up doing something stupid.
The elevator dinged to let her know she had arrived onthe second floor. Stepping out, she ran headlong into a hard male body, one that stood way too close to the entrance. She scowled, annoyed by rude people who crowded elevators and refused to let other passengers disgorge before they pushed their way in.
She teetered on her heels, and one of them got stuck in the crack between the elevator and the floor. Strong hands grabbed her upper arms to keep her from windmilling backward.
“Whoa, careful.”
The deep voice sounded so much like Quinn’s rich baritone she knew immediately she’d just run into Callum O’Brien. She righted herself, and he dropped his hands and stepped back so she could move away from the elevator.
“You must be Amelia.”
She looked up, way up. She was surprised to see Callum was even taller than Quinn, although not by much. He was also leaner than his older brother, although he was by no means skinny.
“You must be Callum.”
He nodded. “You can call me Cal.”
She noticed he and Quinn looked enough alike it would be obvious to strangers they were brothers. But Cal’s jaw wasn’t quite as defined as Quinn’s, and his lips weren’t nearly as full.
The biggest difference between the two men was their eyes. While Quinn’s eyes were a dark, deep blue, almost navy, Cal’s eyes were light blue, like fresh water under a layer of ice, with a darker ring of blue around the edge of the irises.
The combination of his dark hair and icy blue eyes was arresting, and she caught herself staring. The O’Brien siblings were definitely blessed when it came to looks.
“I’ve heard a lot about you,” they said in union and then laughed awkwardly.
“Let’s try that again,” Cal said, tossing her a smile that would give most women heatstroke. She had the fleeting thought that Quinn’s smile was much more attractive.
“Teagan has raved about you for months now.”
Amelia knew Teagan was a fan of her work because she was vocal with her praise. “She thinks I can shake things up,” she teased since Teagan had advised her that Cal was farmore enthusiastic than Quinn regarding the new line of accessories.
He laughed. “I hope we can handle it,” he said. “Do you need any help with directions? I can walk with you.”
“I’m waiting to meet my liaison,” she replied, and a second later she heard the sound of her name from behind her.
“Amelia Winger. I’ve been waiting ages to meet you.”
She turned to greet the body attached to such a strong drawl and was taken aback to see a black man about her age with a head full of dreadlocks. Based on the accent, which she had identified as Deep South elite, she had expected an older white man.
“Aldridge Davis?”
He held out his hand for a quick handshake. “Yes, ma’am,
This morning she would meet her liaison and receive an orientation of sorts to review the company’s history and corporate structure. After lunch with Teagan, she would be introduced to the CFO and the head of the women’s division.
She finally found the pieces she wanted—a long, chunky gold chain with a big amber pendant and matching drop earrings. She put them on before heading to the kitchen to grab her bag. She didn’t want to be late and make a bad impression.
As she made her way to the elevators to head downstairs, she wondered if Quinn would participate in today’s meetings. Since he had indicated he had little or no interest in this project, she doubted she would see much of him. That suited her just fine. The more time she spent with him, the greater the likelihood she’d end up doing something stupid.
The elevator dinged to let her know she had arrived onthe second floor. Stepping out, she ran headlong into a hard male body, one that stood way too close to the entrance. She scowled, annoyed by rude people who crowded elevators and refused to let other passengers disgorge before they pushed their way in.
She teetered on her heels, and one of them got stuck in the crack between the elevator and the floor. Strong hands grabbed her upper arms to keep her from windmilling backward.
“Whoa, careful.”
The deep voice sounded so much like Quinn’s rich baritone she knew immediately she’d just run into Callum O’Brien. She righted herself, and he dropped his hands and stepped back so she could move away from the elevator.
“You must be Amelia.”
She looked up, way up. She was surprised to see Callum was even taller than Quinn, although not by much. He was also leaner than his older brother, although he was by no means skinny.
“You must be Callum.”
He nodded. “You can call me Cal.”
She noticed he and Quinn looked enough alike it would be obvious to strangers they were brothers. But Cal’s jaw wasn’t quite as defined as Quinn’s, and his lips weren’t nearly as full.
The biggest difference between the two men was their eyes. While Quinn’s eyes were a dark, deep blue, almost navy, Cal’s eyes were light blue, like fresh water under a layer of ice, with a darker ring of blue around the edge of the irises.
The combination of his dark hair and icy blue eyes was arresting, and she caught herself staring. The O’Brien siblings were definitely blessed when it came to looks.
“I’ve heard a lot about you,” they said in union and then laughed awkwardly.
“Let’s try that again,” Cal said, tossing her a smile that would give most women heatstroke. She had the fleeting thought that Quinn’s smile was much more attractive.
“Teagan has raved about you for months now.”
Amelia knew Teagan was a fan of her work because she was vocal with her praise. “She thinks I can shake things up,” she teased since Teagan had advised her that Cal was farmore enthusiastic than Quinn regarding the new line of accessories.
He laughed. “I hope we can handle it,” he said. “Do you need any help with directions? I can walk with you.”
“I’m waiting to meet my liaison,” she replied, and a second later she heard the sound of her name from behind her.
“Amelia Winger. I’ve been waiting ages to meet you.”
She turned to greet the body attached to such a strong drawl and was taken aback to see a black man about her age with a head full of dreadlocks. Based on the accent, which she had identified as Deep South elite, she had expected an older white man.
“Aldridge Davis?”
He held out his hand for a quick handshake. “Yes, ma’am,
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