Rise - Part One (Rise #1)(15)

The reporter who wrote one of the articles had interviewed Landon's younger brother, Dane, about the tragedy. He had been quoted as saying that he believed his father would make it. His dad never gave up and he knew, in his heart, that his father was clinging to a rock or a jetty waiting for rescuers.

The articles continued for days with the mission shifting from a rescue operation to a recovery endeavor. Finally, after days of searching, the first responders went back to helping others and in the last article I could find related to the accident, there was a picture of Landon, Dane and their mother, spreading flowers on the shoreline as they accepted that the water had taken Frederick from them forever.

It was an unspeakable loss forever documented in sullen pictures and words. It defined Landon and his family and as I think about the photographs I saw in his apartment that captured the bond he had with his dad, I reach for my phone to call mine.





Chapter 12


"You've outdone yourself, Tess." Gabriel scans the papers one last time before he looks up at me. "You've really impressed me."

They're the words I've been holding my breath to hear since I walked into his office fifteen minutes ago. I'd handed him a file folder and had sat quietly in a chair waiting while he read everything. He didn't stop once. His eyes had scanned every note I'd made. His long, slender fingers had skimmed over the documents, stopping at where the projected expenses were. I'd held my breath then, part of me worried that he'd find fault in my presentation.

"If this comes in at budget, it's a solid investment for us." He closes the folder. "I want you to move ahead with this."

It's what I've been working so hard for. I've spent the last three days camped out in my office working on this proposal. I'd left each night, after midnight, to head home to nab just a few hours of restless sleep.

I knew that I had only one chance to impress Gabriel and that meant hitting it out of the ball park. Judging by the slight grin that is pulling at the corners of his mouth, I think I passed with flying colors.

"I added twenty percent to my final numbers for leeway." I point at the folder. "I expect we'll be under budget."

He cocks a winged brow. "I'll look forward to seeing that."

I fist my hands together. This is the only aspect of my job that I'm not completely comfortable with. Ironing out the details of what the project entails is what I love but when it comes to negotiating a fee for my services, I'm still not as confident as I want, or need to be. "I can sign a contract today."

"I'll have my assistant draw one up." He leans back in his chair, crossing his long legs. "I'm willing to offer you ten percent more for this project than what we agreed on for the fashion show you handled for us a few weeks ago."

My stomach knots. Gabriel Foster is a shark when it comes to business. The man hasn't built a clothing brand that is astronomically successful because he's overly generous. "I think twenty percent over my fee for the last event is more reasonable. The event in Los Angeles is more expansive and involved."

I can tell by the faint rise of the corner of his lips that he's finding our negotiations amusing. "I'll agree to fifteen, Tess, and a bonus if you can keep this under the budget you presented here."

I scratch my ear, remembering my father's advice to never seem too eager to accept anything being offered in business. "That's very fair, Mr. Foster."

"I'll have someone send over the contract to your office later today." He stands, buttoning his suit jacket in one easy movement. "You'll get started immediately after signing?"

I push myself up to my feet as well, taking a half a second to try and calm my breathing. "Yes. I'll get started right away."

***

"Let's toast to your success." He holds his wine glass in the air.

Let's f*ck to my success.

Those are the words that are sitting on the edge of my very wanting tongue. I swear that Landon Beckett gets hotter each and every time I see him.

He arrived back from London a few hours ago. You'd never know by looking at him. He's freshly showered, dressed in a pair of grey pants and a black dress shirt. His beard is trimmed and he smells like the perfect combination of soap, cologne and my perfume.

He'd embraced me tightly when I arrived at his apartment with a bottle of wine in my shaking hand. I had melted into his arms, finally breathing a sigh of relief. I'd worried, in the brief moments, when I wasn't working, about whether he'd give thought to our discussion and would disappear because he felt he shared too much.

When he called me earlier, I had rambled on about my meeting with Gabriel and the job in Los Angeles. He was complimentary, excited and insisted I come to his place for dinner.

"Tess." He cups his hand under my elbow. "Let's toast to your new project."

I nod, completely unaware of how to control my breathing.

Am I panting? Please, don't let me be panting.

"To the first," he begins before he leans down to brush his lips over my forehead. "To the second of what is sure to be many jobs for Foster Enterprises."

I lift my wine glass in the air, tap it against his and take a small sip. It's delicious and I know that if I give in to my nervous desire, I'll finish this glass and another before he prepares whatever he has planned for dinner.