A VERY HOT ENCOUNTER
CHAPTER 1 — A VERY HOT ENCOUNTER
GRACE MILLER
I’m forty-one years old.
I’ve raised two children, learned five foreign languages, become a company manager, and still haven’t figured out why men sometimes can’t keep their mouths shut.
Nora says it’s because I’m too picky.
I don’t think being picky is the problem.
The problem is that some men genuinely believe they’re God’s gift to humanity.
“MOM!”
I closed my eyes.
I hadn’t even finished my first cup of coffee.
“What is it, William?”
“Charlotte took my shirt!”
“I did not!” my daughter shouted.
Nora walked into the kitchen.
“I took it.”
I looked up.
“Why?”
“Because I liked it.”
“Nora, what exactly are you planning to do with my son’s shirt?”
“I thought I might wear it.”
William came downstairs.
“Aunt Nora, don’t you have your own clothes?”
“I do, sweetheart, but yours are nicer.”
I couldn’t help laughing.
Nora Smith was forty-one.
With her curly hair, enormous brown eyes, and endless energy, she was the source of all the laughter in our home.
We’d been living together for eighteen years.
My children called her Aunt Nora.
But she was really their second mother.
When Charlotte came downstairs, I immediately studied her face.
“Are you okay, sweetheart?”
“I’m fine, Mom.”
“You were coughing this morning.”
“A little.”
“Did you take your medication?”
“Yes.”
William interrupted.
“I checked.”
Charlotte rolled her eyes.
“You two are going to smother me.”
Nora raised her coffee mug.
“I’m staying out of this. I’m the only normal person in this house.”
All three of us looked at her.
Nora shrugged.
“Fine. The most entertaining person.”
I glanced at my watch.
Nine o’clock.
“Fuck!”
Nora grinned.
“Meeting?”
“Yes!”
“Dickens Automotive?”
“Yes!”
“I heard the owner is gorgeous.”
“Nora, what I need right now isn’t a gorgeous man. It’s a time machine!”
“Maybe you can find both in one package.”
I grabbed my bag.
“I’m going to continue staying away from men.”
“Suit yourself!” she shouted after me. “But if you see something pretty, bring it home!”
Dickens Automotive’s headquarters was practically a monument to wealth.
Glass walls, marble floors, expensive paintings…
The kind of building where even a cup of coffee probably cost a small fortune.
I glanced at my phone.
Charlotte: Mom, I have my inhaler. Don’t worry. Love you. ❤️
I smiled.
Me: Love you too, angel.
I sent the message.
Looked up.
And…
BAM!
I collided with someone.
My coffee cup crumpled in my hand.
The lid flew off.
Scalding coffee poured straight down the neckline of my white blouse.
“AH! FUCK!”
At the same moment, a deep curse came from the man in front of me.
“Goddammit!”
Some of the coffee had spilled down the front of his black trousers.
Right over his zipper.
But at that moment, I couldn’t have cared less.
My chest was burning.
“AH! GODDAMMIT!”
I tried pulling my blouse away from my skin.
Then I heard his deep, commanding voice.
“You should’ve been watching where you were going.”
I looked up.
And went silent for several seconds.
The man was enormous.
At least six-foot-five.
Broad shoulders.
Black hair tied back at the nape of his neck, with a few silver strands at his temples.
His beard was slightly graying.
He rolled up the sleeves of his black shirt, revealing tattooed forearms.
But his eyes…
Dear God.
Ocean blue.
Deep, hard, and striking enough to stop someone in their tracks.
There wasn’t the slightest hint of a smile on his face.
“Excuse me?”
“You should’ve been watching where you were going.”
I went silent for a second.
Then I exploded.
“ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?”
His eyebrows drew together.
“Lower your voice.”
“WHAT?”
“There’s no need to shout.”
“THERE’S HOT COFFEE ALL OVER MY CHEST!”
He looked down.
First at my blouse.
Then at his trousers.
“You’re not the only one who got burned.”
My eyes dropped involuntarily.
The front of his trousers was soaked.
In the most unfortunate possible location.
The man beside him struggled to keep his laughter in.
“Boss, you okay?”
The giant turned toward him.
“Edward.”
“Okay. Shutting up.”
I pulled a tissue from my bag.
“Wonderful! Just fucking wonderful!”
The man spoke calmly.
“There’s a medical room.”
“How lovely.”
“You could have a burn.”
“Wow! Hot coffee can cause burns? We should alert the medical community immediately!”
Edward turned his head away.
His shoulders were shaking.
The man’s eyes narrowed.
“I’m trying to help you.”
“Blaming someone first and offering help afterward is a pretty strange approach!”
Frank went silent for a moment.
Then he lowered his gaze to his trousers.
“I wouldn’t exactly call this a pleasant morning for me, either.”
“I’m devastated.”
No trace of sympathy in my voice.
One corner of his mouth lifted slightly.
“I can tell.”
Then he raised his eyes.
“At least your coffee hit its target.”
I frowned.
“What exactly are you implying?”
“Take another look at the front of my trousers. You’ll figure it out.”
Edward burst out laughing.
“Bro!”
The man ignored him.
I narrowed my eyes.
“Sir, don’t you dare make suggestive comments to me.”
“I’m merely stating the facts.”
“Then keep your observations to yourself!”
The corner of his mouth curved again.
Barely.
Dangerously.
Infuriatingly.
“You’re an angry woman.”
“No. I just have very little tolerance for idiots.”
Edward covered his mouth.
“Oh, God…”
The man slowly turned his gaze back to me.
“Did you just call me an idiot?”
“If the shoe fits, that’s hardly my problem.”
He took a step closer.
I didn’t move back.
“Your name?”
“Grace.”
“Last name?”
“None of your damn business.”
Edward wasn’t even trying to hide his laughter anymore.
The man’s voice hardened.
“Edward.”
“Bro, I swear I’m trying to shut up!”
I glanced at my watch.
Nine twenty-five.
“Fuck!”
I grabbed my bag.
“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have an important meeting.”
The man stepped aside.
As I passed him, I turned around one last time.
“And next time, don’t stand in the middle of the damn hallway!”
His deep voice followed me.
“Next time, hold on to your coffee a little tighter.”
I turned back.
“Next time, protect your pants!”
And walked away.
FRANK
Edward was leaning against the wall, laughing.
“Enough.”
“Bro…”
“Edward.”
“I’ve worked with you for twenty-two years. I’ve never seen anything like that.”
I looked down at my trousers.
The stain wasn’t particularly noticeable against the black fabric.
But I could still feel the heat.
“It’s not funny.”
Edward laughed again.
“Bro, that woman absolutely roasted you!”
“Edward.”
“And right on your—”
“Don’t finish that sentence.”
He raised both hands.
“Understood, Boss.”
We headed toward the elevator.
Edward managed to stay silent for a few seconds.
Then, inevitably…
“Bro?”
“What?”
“She was beautiful.”
I didn’t answer.
“Especially her eyes.”
“Edward.”
“Green.”
“I noticed.”
“So you were looking.”
I turned toward him.
“Would you like me to cancel today’s meetings so I can spend the entire day listening to your bullshit?”
He grinned.
“Nah, bro. We’ve got work to do.”
GRACE MILLER
By the time I entered the conference room, my blouse was still stained with coffee.
I’d tried cleaning it with cold water in the restroom.
But an enormous mark remained on the white fabric.
Wonderful.
I might become the first public relations manager in history to attend a million-dollar business meeting wearing a coffee stain.
I arranged my documents.
Opened my laptop.
Took a deep breath.
The door opened.
I stood.
“Good morning, I’m Grace Miller—”
I stopped.
No.
No, no, no.
FUCK.
I recognized the man walking through the door.
Black shirt.
Tied-back hair.
Tattooed arms.
And those goddamn ocean-blue eyes.
He’d changed his trousers.
Edward was right behind him.
The moment Edward saw me, he stopped.
Then looked up at the ceiling.
Trying not to laugh.
The giant looked directly at me.
Not a hint of a smile on his face.
“Ms. Miller.”
I cleared my throat.
“Sir.”
He approached me with slow, deliberate steps.
Then extended his hand.
“Frank Lucas.”
I hesitated for a moment.
“Grace Miller.”
I shook his hand.
His grip was firm.
Edward stepped forward.
“Frank Lucas Dickens, owner of Dickens Automotive.”
Frank.
Lucas.
Dickens.
The owner.
The man I’d just told to protect his pants.
I screamed internally.
But I didn’t let it show.
Frank looked straight into my eyes.
“A pleasure to meet you, Ms. Miller.”
“Likewise.”
One corner of his mouth curved almost imperceptibly.
“Are you sure?”
“I haven’t decided yet.”
Edward turned around.
His shoulders were shaking.
Frank slowly took his seat.
“Let’s begin.”
The presentation lasted forty-five minutes.
I showed campaign examples prepared in five languages.
Explained consumer behavior in European markets.
Outlined the brand-positioning strategy.
Frank didn’t interrupt me once.
He listened.
Sometimes he took notes.
Sometimes he looked at me.
Those eyes were disturbingly attentive.
When the presentation ended, I closed my folder.
“And that concludes our proposal.”
Silence.
Frank set his pen on the table.
“Your French is excellent.”
“Thank you.”
“Your Italian, too.”
“I speak five languages.”
“I noticed.”
“I hope you noticed the rest of the presentation as well.”
Edward lowered his head.
Frank’s eyes narrowed slightly.
“Do you always speak to me like that?”
“Only when you deserve it.”
The room grew heavier with silence.
Frank studied my face for several seconds.
Then that small, dangerous smile appeared at the corner of his mouth again.
“You’re brave, Ms. Miller.”
“No. Just honest.”
“Sometimes they’re the same thing.”
He closed the contract.
“I accept your proposal.”
I blinked.
“Really?”
“Is there a problem?”
“No. It’s just—”
“I don’t repeat my decisions, Ms. Miller.”
I lifted my chin.
“And I appreciate getting answers to my questions.”
Edward shifted slightly in his chair.
Frank kept his eyes on me.
“You’ll be leading the project.”
“I already am.”
“You’ll communicate directly with me.”
“It would be more appropriate for me to work with your company’s communications director.”
“This is my preference.”
“And my preference is to do my job professionally.”
Frank leaned back in his chair.
His expression didn’t change.
“Then it seems we’ll both get what we want.”
I gathered my bag.
“I hope so.”
I stood.
“Have a good day.”
I headed toward the door.
“Ms. Miller.”
I stopped.
“Yes?”
“Your blouse.”
I looked down.
The coffee stain.
Goddammit.
“What about it?”
“You should change it.”
I looked straight into his eyes.
“Don’t worry. I have absolutely no intention of running into you again.”
The corner of his mouth lifted slightly.
“I wouldn’t be so sure about that.”
I paused.
“Is that a threat?”
“No.”
His voice was calm.
“A possibility.”
I rolled my eyes.
“Wonderful. I don’t like possibilities.”
“I do.”
I opened the door.
“Then I hope it turns out to be a pleasant one for you.”
And walked out.
FRANK
As soon as the door closed, Edward spoke.
“Bro.”
“No.”
“But—”
“No, Edward.”
“That woman practically declared war on you.”
I looked at the contract.
“She’s good at her job.”
“Her job?”
I raised my head.
Edward was grinning.
“She’s pretty damn good at arguing with you, too.”
“Get out.”
“Sure, bro.”
He walked toward the door.
Then stopped.
“By the way…”
“Edward.”
“Her name is Grace Miller.”
“I know.”
“Forty-one years old.”
“I know that, too.”
“Apparently, she has two children.”
My pen stopped moving.
Edward continued.
“It’s in the professional background information submitted with her meeting documents. She continued building her career while raising her children on her own.”
I opened the file.
Grace Miller.
Public Relations Manager.
International Communications Specialist.
Five languages.
Eighteen years of professional experience.
I looked at her photograph.
She was smiling.
She looked different from the woman I’d met that morning.
Softer.
But her eyes were the same.
Green.
Watchful.
And tired.
Edward opened the door.
“Bro?”
“What now?”
“Can I ask you something?”
“Go ahead.”
“When was the last time you stared after a woman for that long?”
I didn’t answer.
Because I couldn’t remember.
Edward’s voice grew more serious.
“Come on, you’re forty-seven. You deserve to enjoy yourself a little.”
I closed the file.
“I am enjoying myself.”
“No, bro. You’re working.”
The door closed.
I was alone.
I glanced at the phone on my desk.
There was a message from Isabella.
Isabella: Dad, Mom called again. Michael hung up on her.
I closed my eyes.
Victoria.
Twenty-seven years had passed.
But some people didn’t know how to stay in the past.
I set my phone down.
Then my eyes drifted back to Grace’s file.
Forty-one years old.
Mother of two.
A woman who stood on her own two feet.
Interesting.
For the first time in my life, a woman hadn’t asked me for anything.
Quite the opposite…
She was doing everything she could to keep me at a distance.
And I…
For reasons I couldn’t explain…
Wanted to see her again.
But I didn’t know something yet.
Entering Grace Miller’s life wouldn’t simply mean winning a woman’s heart.
It would also mean opening a door she’d kept firmly shut for eighteen years.
End of Chapter 1
