Of Love and Deception Read Free Page B

more becoming.

3 - Mr. Sarcasm
    Short skirt or blue jeans ? Hmm. What to wear . Daniella examined her wardrobe. “A short skirt might say ‘I’m interested’... or ‘do me here and now’. Nah. Jeans. Definitely jeans.” She slipped on her favorite pair of faded denims and pulled a white V-neck tee over her head. Smoothing it out, she tucked it into her pants. Add a glittery Gucci belt with matching accessories and her favorite fragrance, Daniella was almost ready to go. She twisted a few more curls to her semi-wavy hair, inhaled a deep breath and blew it out. Still nervous.
    One-thirty pm. She couldn’t be late. That would be bad business. It would take approximately fifteen minutes to get to his house if she drove the legal limit, a task nearly impossible.
     Daniella took a sharp right and entered ‘Quails,’ Cruz Canton’s neighborhood. Large brick houses rose like fortresses from verdant well-trimmed lawns.
    “Damn impressive lifestyle you have, Mr. Canton.” She gathered Cruz had money, like most of the clients requesting service at Designer’s Inc.
    Countless times she rehearsed what she would say when he answered the door. Good lord, it’s just a business deal. Nothing new, not a date. Daniella inhaled and exhaled repeatedly as she rolled into Cruz’s driveway.
    Before stepping out of the car, Daniella examined the brilliant reddish-brown maple and oak trees. The length of the front lawn was edged with colorful ornaments of tall decorative grasses, flowers, and plants that were neatly manicured. Not a single shrub was without a perfectly square or rounded pattern. “Hmm. Very nice. The landscape is tastefully done.”
    Daniella fumbled with her keys and tossed them into her purse. When she exited the car, her knees buckled. Dammit. What is wrong with me? Get it together. This man drove her nuts, turning her into a moronic fool, a bundle of nerves, and she couldn’t pinpoint what it was or why. GQ men never stirred her up or drove her to this level of anxiety.
    Knock on the door or ring the doorbell? She did a quick sweep through her wavy hair and knocked on the door.
    No answer.
    Three more knocks.
    No answer.
    She rang the doorbell.
    Nothing.
    Three minutes passed and still no response. Okay. Maybe one or two minutes passed, but it feels like ten. And I feel like a fool!
    Daniella knocked and rang the doorbell, and knocked and rang the doorbell again.
    Nobody answered.
    “Screw this.” She flipped around and headed back to her car. “He said two pm. Guess he’s a real bullshitter. He’s probably pissed because I didn’t acknowledge his hitting on me,” Daniella mumbled. “Jerk-off. As—”
    “What was that?” Cruz strolled around from the side of his house.
    Crap. Now what? Good going, dummy.
    She met his eyes; his beautiful blue eyes hinted he’d heard her exact words.
    “Sorry. I take it all back. I was quick to assume you ditched me, wasted my time on purpose.” Her cheeks burned ten degrees hotter. Dang. Please tell me he didn’t hear me mention him hitting on me.
    “Which part?”
    “What?” Oh hell no!
    Cruz’s brows arched. “Which part are you sorry for?”
    Daniella hesitated. “Um. Hmm.”
    “Ah. I see. You’re not really sorry. You think I’m a jerk-off and an ass . Or were you going to call me an asshole?” A grin played on his lips and a dimple formed on his left cheek, adding to his charming good looks.
    You’ve already blown it. Damage is done. What the heck. Just spit it out. “Probably both. Ass. Asshole. Pretty much the same thing.” She rubbed her temple and reached for the door handle.
    “Wait!”
    “For what?”
    “For what? Aren’t you Daniella Kurtz... interior designer with Designers, Inc.?” His voice dripped with sarcasm.
    She shot her best eye roll. “Uh… Duh.”
    “Okay, smart ass. I am officially here. Two o’clock sharp. You’re here for a reason. Would that be for the contract? Or is it because you like my attention—hits,