And I could get through whatever this old-as-dirt Saff woman wanted me to compromise on for the Brooklyn club.

I glanced over as Teresa brought in a silver tray with four glasses and a pitcher full of water and lemon and lime slices, giving her a nod in gratitude, then turned back toward the windows that overlooked the front of the building. And the sidewalk below.

A car pulled up out front, double-parking to a chorus of horns as the other cars had to swerve past.

The back door opened a few seconds before the front passenger, but the guy in the front rushed out, dragging the door open, then seeming to start lecturing the backseat passenger.

She popped out a second later, hand throwing up in the air, then poking him in the chest as she spoke rapidly.

It was the kind of interaction I’d seen between Teresa and her boys or husband. All attitude. Lots of talking with the hands. And despite the loud voices, no real heat in the words.

I was about to turn away and go over my folder full of blueprints for the building when the woman suddenly turned and looked right up at me.

Well, she was looking at the building.

I was looking at her.

I was damn near ready to tell Teresa to cancel the meeting so I could run my ass down there with the hopes of catching her number. Or, if she was willing, pull her into one of the many conference rooms the building sported, spreading her out on the table, and spending a hot, sweaty hour together.

I don’t remember the last time I had such a knee-jerk reaction to a woman. Possibly never. Pretty was a dime a dozen.

And she was that.

Pretty.

Gorgeous, even.

From what I could tell from my vantage point, and compared to the man hulking over her, she was short and slight, but with curvy thighs beneath those ugly slacks she had on.

Her dark brown hair—that I swore almost had a blue tint to it as the sun caught it—was sleek and framed her delicate heart-shaped face. I couldn’t make out what color her eyes were from so far away, but she had a dainty nose with a little ring and pouty lips I was having a hard time not imagining wrapped around my dick.

“Christ,” I said, sighing as I shook off those thoughts.

Down on the street below, the car that had dropped them off drove away as the man made a show of doing an exaggerated bow as he waved out a hand. After you, ma’am.

The woman shook her head, slapped the guy on the back of the neck, then charged into the building.

“What is it?” Teresa asked. “Haven’t seen you staring that hard at something since you got your gift from me last Boss’s Day.”

“You sent me… flowers.”