When I’d gotten my first glimpse of her, I knew it was over for me. Really over. She doesn’t even know who I really am. I’m sure she’s heard of me. All this time, my little Rae of sunshine had been right under my nose, and I hadn’t known it.

How long had her best friend Ms. Jones worked for me? I suppose she’s not Ms. Jones now, nor does she work for me anymore. Now she belongs to Vincent Castillo and not as one of his many assistants. He’d gone and married her.

At first, I hadn’t understood what Vincent was up to. He’d beckoned my assistant through Rae. That had been the first time I’d heard her voice, when she’d called Ms. Jones at work pleading for her to come back home. That she needed her.

I was offering Ms. Jones a ride on my own plane before I even knew what I was doing. She thought I was crazy. I can still recall the shocked expression on her face. Hell, I’d shocked myself.

It wasn’t an hour after we landed that I was informed Ms. Jones no longer would be working at my office. Not that I gave a shit. I have multiple PAs. She’d been the newest, but she was efficient, and I thought she’d be around for a while. She’d gone and married Vincent. She’s no longer Ms. Jones. If you call her such, Vincent is quick to correct you. I don’t blame him. Once I get my girl, I plan on doing exactly the same thing.

I didn’t know the two even knew each other. Vincent and I went to college together. We ran in a lot of the same circles but didn’t run too close. I played stocks and investments while he worked with exporting and importing. Two different worlds, for the most part. But when you’re wealthy, people are always trying to yank you together for one reason or another. Okay, the main reason is money. That’s what everything always comes down to.

It’s been my life’s motto. Everything is numbers and bottom lines. I’ve always been focused on what could be made and if the math would work for or against you. I’m good at what I do and know when to toss out something that doesn’t work. I have good instincts and stick with the equation I know. It’s easy enough. I can turn everything into a mathematical problem to be solved. Everything besides her.

I’m finding that Raegan Smith isn’t a math equation that I can solve. Even if she was, I have a feeling I wouldn’t enjoy seeing the numbers. That the odds would be against me.