Second, my sister Jade visited my office today. Apparently, she’s become one of your allies. If you think she’ll help your cause, believe me, she won’t.
Third, the birds you worried so much about are now gone, which means I can proceed and get my building permit.
Like I’ve mentioned before, I’d be more than happy to discuss this situation in person. Let me know when your schedule permits a face-to-face meeting.
Also, in response to your question about whether or not I’m capable of reading, I can, but I often don’t. Since I was raising my younger siblings during my adolescence and most of my adulthood, I’ve had very little time for books.
Sincerely,
Seth Sinclair
CEO
Sinclair Properties, Inc.
“Jackass!” I growled out loud as I slammed my fist on my desk, something I did nearly every time I got an email from Sinclair.
Refusing to think about the inappropriate communication I’d just received from the most annoying, irritating, cold-blooded male I’d ever had the misfortune of meeting, I rose from my seat in my home office.
“Tea. I need a cup of tea,” I mumbled as I made my way to the kitchen.
Honestly, my blood was still boiling from reading his email. But what really pissed me off was the fact that I knew my face was still pink from his suggestive comments.
I can’t let him get to me.
I was a professional. I shouldn’t be blushing like a ridiculous teenage girl just because some jackass was throwing suggestive comments out by email.
How does he manage to turn every insult into something sexual?
I shoved a mug underneath my coffeemaker to get hot water for my tea.
Okay, maybe not every hateful comment I wrote to him became a sexual innuendo. Lately, he’d made it a point to write something about himself at the end of each communication, being deliberately obtuse about the true meaning of my words.
Can’t you read well, Mr. Sinclair?
That had been my original jab.
He’d turned it into an answer that had nothing to do with my put-down.
I frowned as I dropped the bag of tea into my mug.
Seth Sinclair was presumptuous. I didn’t want to get to know him.
Then why does the fact that he gave up everything to take care of his younger siblings leave me with more questions I really want to ask?
Occasionally, when he was nice to me, I dropped a tidbit or two about myself, too. In between contemptuous remarks, of course.
I added a small amount of milk to my tea, and a ton of sugar. Just the way I liked it. I leaned my hip against the kitchen counter and took a sip.
Ahhh . . . bliss. Not as good as the chai mocha lattes that I drank way too much of from the Coffee Shack. But any strong, hot, sweetened tea would do in a pinch. It helped calm the desire to slug Sinclair for his current email.
For months, I’d managed to be professional with Seth Sinclair. I wasn’t even sure how my emails to him had become personally insulting—with some tiny fact about myself mixed in at the very end.
Maybe because he’d started it.
Well, not the insults, because he never really seemed to lose his temper and write something insulting, but the dropping of a little bit of personal information in each email.
So, he isn’t a reader.
That was understandable if every moment of his day had been filled with working, sleeping, or taking care of his family, I supposed.
I kept sipping at my tea, telling myself that I didn’t give a damn about his life.
All I wanted was for him to cease his plans to build on land that would probably see the return of the least tern birds again the following year.
Their situation was critical.
As a serious environmental and wildlife-conservation attorney, achieving my goal of protecting their habitat was my primary mission.
However, I was disappointed with myself that I’d lost my cool more than once while I was defending the birds.
I hadn’t ever resorted to personal insults while I was in a legal battle, until I’d met Seth Sinclair. The cheap shots I’d directed at him weren’t the way I did business at all.
It wasn’t professional, and I was generally a powerhouse at my job. In fact, I was downright anal about always keeping a very distant demeanor when dealing with the opposition.
But just this once . . . I was failing to keep things strictly business.
Dammit!
Maybe I should have met with Seth Sinclair in person. But I’d avoided it so far.
Months ago, we’d met up by chance in a coffee shop. I’d discovered that one encounter with him had been more than enough. I’d been mildly attracted to him, which was also something I’d never experienced in business. And shouldn’t.
I smirked as I wondered how he would feel when he found out I’d actually purchased Jade’s small cottage on the beach.
I hadn’t meant to buy it, but when I’d met with Seth’s sister, I’d fallen in love with this cozy home near the sand. And when I’d found out it was for sale, I’d jumped at the chance to own it.
My phone suddenly blasted a vintage rock-and-roll song, and I picked it up from the counter.
“Hello, Mother,” I said unenthusiastically.
“Margaret,” she said in her usual cold tone. “I’ve been trying to reach you for days.”
I rolled my eyes.
Margaret Riley Montgomery was my legal name, but I’d gone by Riley since I was a child. Even though I’d asked my mother a million times to use my middle name, she’d ignored me.
For the most part, I’d given up.
“I’ve been busy,” I told her.
“Too busy to speak with your mother?” she chastised. “I was calling about an event. Eli Stone is holding a fund-raiser. I think you should come.”
That was the problem. My only parent was always calling about some haughty party that I almost always tried to avoid. I’d been my mother’s disappointing child, but things had gotten even worse since I’d put my education to work preserving endangered species, and she never let me forget it.
“Let me guess . . . there’s some insanely rich man you want me to meet?” I asked drily.
She still thinks if I’m attached to a highly successful male that it will give me a bigger social advantage?
I let go of a quiet sigh. It wasn’t like I didn’t know that she disapproved of the fact that I hadn’t used my Harvard Law School education to be upwardly mobile in the corporate world. In fact, I was used to her pointing out every single mistake I made.
Including the fact that I was nearly thirty, still single, and not searching for a guy to validate me.
“I’m already planning on attending,” I finally answered. “I’m acquainted with Jade Stone.”
The fund-raiser was being hosted by Jade’s philanthropist husband, Eli Stone, and would benefit Jade’s research lab in San Diego. For that reason alone, I’d decided to attend.
“You are coming?” my mother asked. “Well, of course, you and Jade are both interested in rare animals. But since Jade is attached to a man like Eli Stone, she’s able to indulge in whatever hobbies she wants.”
“It’s not her hobby, Mother. She has her own research lab in San Diego now. She’s Dr. Stone. And the work she’s doing to preserve the DNA of nearly extinct species is groundbreaking and important.”