We shook hands, and I noticed, before he released my hand, that his grip was firm and warm. I liked that.

“Pleasure to meet you,” I said.

“You must be loving the change of climate,” he said. “Miguel said you hail from Boston?”

“It wasn’t a hardship to pack away the sweaters and coats,” I agreed.

“Carson’s been in Phoenix for—how long now?” Soph asked him.

“Fifteen years. Since my time with Miguel at ASU.” He glanced at me. “We go way back.”

My quick mental math put him at thirty-three-ish. I did a visual scan of his hands and noted there was no wedding ring. I wondered if he was single, oh, not for me. Nope, nope, nope. I wasn’t anywhere near ready for anything like that. I was just trying to placeholder him, you know, guy who could be a friend, potential guy for dating way, way down the road, possible gay best buddy if he swung that way, and so forth. It was the curse of being single, always trying to figure out the potentiality of anyone you happened to meet.

“Soph, can I talk to you for a sec?” Nyah waved to Soph from across the crowded room.

“Sure.” She nodded. “Carson, can you introduce Annabelle around? We’ll try to get started in the next five minutes.”

“Happy to,” Carson said. He smiled as he watched her walk away, but when he turned back to me, his expression was devoid of anything even remotely friendly. Instead, his lip curled up in one corner and his eyes were cold. “Just so we’re clear, in six months, your office becomes mine like it should have been all along.”

5

“Excuse me?” I asked. I needed him to repeat what he’d said just to make certain I’d heard him right.

His handsome face relaxed and he smiled his big wide welcoming grin, but this time I noticed it wasn’t reflected in his eyes. “Because you’ll obviously be getting promoted, Ms. Big Shot. Everyone here knows you’re on the fast track to partnering with Sophie and Miguel. That’s why they brought you in, right?”

This was news to me. Is that what everyone thought? “I—”

“Trent, have you met Annabelle yet?” Carson cut me off and called to another man, who had just entered the room.

This abrupt shift in direction gave me whiplash, but the one thing I did recall very well was the feeling in my gut when he’d said my office should have been his. That hadn’t been the friendly comment he’d tried to twist it into. No, this guy was pissed, and I was his target, so now I was on my guard.

“Nice to meet you, Annabelle.” Trent extended his hand. “Trent Brockton. I’m the guy you want to see to get your paycheck.”

“So you’re the one I bring the Friday doughnuts to,” I said.