Chapter 1

As usual, I was rushing for the elevator. The gates for the underground parking closed at 7:30pm and it was exactly 7:24pm. Pushing my luck was a regular occurence, but this was close even for me. If I did not have my car on the road in six minutes, it was stuck in Sully Tower over the weekend. That would just be my luck, I muttered as I walked into the newly-opened elevator doors. I'm also not completely convinced I finished everything I needed to in the office, so I had shoved everything important in my purse just in case I thought of something over the weekend. Feeling the elevator slow at a level far above ground, my irritation grew. The time in the corner of my phone told me it was 7:26, leaving no hope of getting my car tonight.

"Perfect," I whispered to myself.

Sighing in defeat, I rested my head against the elevator wall to eyeball the woman walking aboard, only to notice a man out of the corner of my eye. He was flicking glances between his phone and myself, smirking all the while. Giving my best attempt at stealth, I tried to study him. The more I looked, the more truth came to my earlier statement. This man was perfect. Tall as the hills, with dark hair shooting out in all directions. An impeccably tailored black suit made the colour of his baby blue eyes all the more vivid. The only way I could fault him was the stupid smug smile playing on his lips. Surely he had the decency not to look so gleeful during my temporary misery.

With the ground floor approaching, I halted my studies and went about steeling myself. Either I hailed a cab, or called Nathan and Viv for a ride. Both had its pros and cons, but my aunt and uncle would undoubtedly be in the middle getting their eighteen month-old twins ready for bed, so it was going to have to be a cab. Hearing the ding signalling the arrival of our floor, I huffed as I pulled my purse further up my shoulder. I hadn't dressed to accommodate the winter chill that was waiting for me and was already feeling phantom shivers.

"The parking gates are still open, if that's what you're pouting about." Announced a smooth voice from behind. It sounded like silk resting on stone and caused all kinds of flutters.

Stopping my forward movement, I turned to him and crossed my arms.

"I am not pouting."

Eyebrows shot up in disbelief and eyes narrowed. A silent battle of wills broke out as we descended to the last stop. Nobody spoke, but accusations were blaring. I assumed he wanted an apology or some form of thanks, but I don't pout. Mr Eyes-Too-Blue-To-Be-Real was obviously used to having people cave – his entire demeanor reeked of it, and admittedly I could feel my resolve weakening. Hearing the god sent ding I had convinced myself was long gone, I all but threw myself out of the lift. Musing over how strange it was that a simple raised brown could have such a battering effect, I made a a bee-line for my car.

Sitting in relative safety, I scorned myself. If he hadn't told me the gates were open, I would be standing in frozen winds trying to snatch a cab right now. If anybody had seen my appalling manners, I would have received the lecture of a life time. Although he was quite rude about it. Pouting – I really don't pout – ever.

A car horn sounding reminded me that my exit was time sensitive, so starting the car up, I moved to the my security pass being cleared I waited to merge into the buzzing traffic flow. Minivans filled with little families and the business sedans of the working adults streamed past, oblivious to their metropolitan surroundings. Quite relief filled me and I finally took up a spot in the masses, heading home after one of the most stressful weeks of my career.

Getting home was traditionally a hectic occasion. The twins high-pitched squeals and the clatter of the kitchen was a comforting sound and it's absence was just as unwelcome as it had been all week. The overtime I had been clocking has been great for my job, but I was less than pleased with how it was effecting the rest of my life. Primarily how by the time I made it home, my ridiculously enthusiastic baby cousins were already in bed. Resigned to another lonely dinner, I plopped my belongings down on the marble kitchen island, and fished my warm dinner out of the oven. There was certainly worse ways to live.

Rinsing off my plate, I grabbed my bag and trudged up the stairs. Viv's interior design experience was evident in she and Uncle Nathan's home. It had the presence of a plantation home, the vibe of an old villa, but the appearance of a modern-day family home. Simply put, the place was timeless, just like the occupying family. Just like Mr Eyebrows from the tower and entirely unlike myself. A small smile broke out as a tiny giggle sounded behind the door to my room. Flicking on the light I tossed my bag and shoes the way I would any other day. Making a show of it, I threw myself onto the biggest undercover blob on my bed.

"Daddy!"

"Ava, you crush my daddy!" Cried Imogen, pulling at my arm. Nathan and Viv were chuckling at the response of their daughters, though Viv was cut short.

"You really should treat your things with more care, Avie." She tutted, carefully storing away my shoes.

Rolling my eyes, I lunged for Emelia, the quieter twin and began tickling. She was giggling through the pacifier in her mouth with her arms flailing. It was probably considered horrible, but Emelia was my secret favorite of the two. Her temperament was much calmer and often resulted in her taking the back seat to Imogen. The pair of them were gorgeous, clearly following after their father and myself. Dark hair and green eyes that had the grown up fawning over them instantly.

"They just weren't going to settle until you got home. They missed you." Nathan smiled.

# # #

The further Sunday progressed, the harder it became to quell my nerves. The meeting that had kept me past normal business hours for the past week was scheduled for 9.00am tomorrow. While I wasn't giving the presentation, many frustrating hours had gone into helping my boss, Tom, prepare and I had been granted access to sit in as a result. I knew what we were selling backwards and forwards, yet I knew very little of who we were pitching to. People in the office had supposedly heard whispers that Braxton Sullivan, the owner of the company I worked for, was going to be in attendance. That was easily dismissed. Tom had worked at SullTech for years and had never seen the man once. Probably because nobody actually knew what he looked like.

It would seem I was doomed to have no sleep. For what felt like hours the seconds would tick by, but when I rolled over next two hours had passed. The same blue eyes that had been haunting me all weekend were there when I closed my lids, keeping me up. I'd never seen a colour like that, lighter and brighter than the sky, but deeper than the ocean. Looking at them had been like watching a perfectly oiled motor run. Fleeting things running through them but moving on before I was able to recognize them.

Decidedly pissed at whatever game time was trying to play with me, I got up. It was 5.45am, so not too much earlier than I would normally get up. Something about getting up before 6am felt unnatural though – unknown territory. Creeping down the hall and stairs, I headed to the kitchen. Nathan kept double strength coffee pods in this kitchen somewhere and I was determined to find them.

"Looking for these?"

"Fuck," I exhaled in shock. "Nathan you scared the shit out of me."

He was leaning on the counter, smug and sleepy, with a couple of extra strength coffee pods balancing between his fingers. Shaking his head, he pulled out a couple of mugs and turned on the coffee machine. Following the basic morning ritual, I pulled out cereal bowls and milk. Being raised together meant Nathan and I acted more as siblings than uncle and niece, and ever since the birth of his girls he had taken on something of a paternal role. He had all but secured my job at SullTech, an impressive achievement considering I had no college backing or experience at the time. Nathan on the other hand, had excelled brilliantly at college and then quickly climbed the ranks of SullTech before moving on to work a little more closely with Mr. Sullivan himself.

Pouring our cereal, I spoke as casually as I could. "Hey Nate, whats Braxton Sullivan like?"

Trading cereal for coffee, we climbed on top of the kitchen island to eat breakfast, something that would get us in a world of trouble if Viv found out. He took a gulp of caffeine and a few mouthfuls of cereal before he finally answered.

"Mr. Sullivan is surprising. For all intents and purposes, the man's a genius. You know he's the same age as me and he's already made more than I ever will." He added at the end.

"Okay, but what does he look like?" I grumbled between bites.

Uncle Nathan, brother Nathan, and new-father Nathan didn't respond well to that particular question. All red in the face, he began spluttering about age differences so I dropped it. I wanted to be able to identify him at the meeting, but I didn't want a nuclear Nathan. I already had far too much on today. Giving him a teasing push, I bounced back up the stairs and left him to deal with the dishes. With the aid of double strength coffee, I was able to power through the shower and blow-dry process in record time and was trying to decide if I wanted to use the flat iron, or the curler today. Reading over the email Tom sent me last night, I decided to go with the flat iron. The term he used for dress code had been 'definition of professional'. With my hair sleeked back into a tight pony-tail and my makeup barely noticeable, it was time to dress.

"You leaving already, Ava?" Hollered Nate as I wandered down the stairs.

"Boss requested a triple shot. It's gonna be a long day." I sighed in response. At least after today it would be over with I repeated in my head.

Madness. It was the best way to describe the events of my morning leading up to the meeting. Within an hour, Tom had panicked about almost everything before calming down rapidly. The man had gone from 700 miles per hour to seemingly relax enough for a nap instantly, and I was feeling a little winded. My boss may have calmed down, but it felt as though his panic was continuing to writhe in my stomach. When he announced it was time to go to the meeting room, I really thought I was going to be sick.

The people Tom was about to pitch to, who I was assuming were executives of some form or another, were already seated. Walking nervously to my seat, I recognized a head of wild dark hair. He was sitting at the head of the table, looking out the window. Speeding up, I got to my seat before he took notice of the room. In my nervous state, I was pretty sure trying to concentrate on Tom would be all but impossible if I entered into another staring contest.

Blinds were closed, the projector fired up, and Tom was on his way. My panic flared when he ventured off a little, but he killed it. If I wasn't already, he would have sold me in the first five minutes. Everyone laughed when he joked and applauded when he finished. That is, everyone but the hottie at the end of the table. I had watched him because head of table would insinuate some kind of power, I reasoned, and not because he looked particularly dreamy in half shadow. It was during one of my prolonged glances that he spotted me. Catching me staring at him, he tilted his head to the side and raised his brows.

Ignoring him deliberately, I rushed to congratulate Tom and hopefully gain an early out. My boss had other plans and dragged me around with him as he made small talk with the room. Taking care to smile and invest myself in the conversations was futile. I could still feel the glances being thrown my way in the form of an electric current. Doing what I could to block that out too, I skated around the room. If you asked why it was so flustered, I had no answer. Something about that man just made me edgy, and I was more than happy to prolong the conversation. I exhausted every occupant of the meeting room before I accepted defeat and put on a brave smile.

"Mr Knight, a fantastic presentation." He crooned to Tom.

"I'm glad you liked it." Tom smiled. "This is Ava Huxley, my PA and mastermind. Ava, this is Braxton Sullivan."