Kianna Alexander - Tempo Of Love

“So, what’s first on the agenda, Ken?” Draining the last of her tea, Lynn set her mug aside on the edge of Ken’s desk and waited for instructions.

Ken scratched his chin, his eyes sweeping over the image in front of him. “I want to start with the exterior building material and framework. Get in contact with a few stonemasonry companies and take their bids. I want to keep the exterior look very close to the original. After you’ve taken their bids, compile the data for me and we’ll decide who to use for the project.”

“I’m on it.” Lynn slid from her stool and gathered her mug.

The ringing of Ken’s desk phone broke the quiet in the room. Lynn leaned over the desk and picked up the handset. “Yamada Creative. This is Lynn. How may I assist you?”

Ken continued to make notes at the drafting table as his assistant listened to whoever was on the other end.

“Okay. Hold, please.” Lynn cupped her hand over the mouthpiece. “It’s a reporter from the Charlotte Observer. She wants to speak with you about the Grand Pearl project.”

And so it begins. Ken knew that news of his contract would spread quickly, due to the dollar amount he’d been paid. While he wasn’t a fan of reporters, he understood the interest. Reaching out for the handset, he said, “I’ll take it.” No use putting off the inevitable.

Lynn passed Ken the phone.

“Hello? This is Ken Yamada.”

“Mr. Yamada, good morning.”

“Good morning.” He cradled the phone between his head and his shoulder and listened to the female reporter list her name and credentials. A few seconds passed before he noticed that Lynn was still standing by his desk, watching him, as if her feet were glued to the spot.

He frowned, waving his hand and mouthing, “Get out.”

Lynn snickered, but did as she was told. After she’d left the room, he turned his attention back to the woman on the phone, who was still going on about the feature she planned to write.

“Miss, that sounds great. However I’m on a tight deadline, so could we please get to the purpose of your call?”

She stopped chattering, and her tone held a bit of censure as she asked, “When and where could you meet me for an initial interview, Mr. Yamada?”

He felt his brow crease into a frown. “Initial? How many interviews do you think this is going to take?”

“I’m not sure, but I’ll take up as little of your time as I possibly can.”

His frown deepened. He was a private man, and he didn’t enjoy having his time or his personal space infringed upon, least of all by a stranger. “We can meet tomorrow morning, 9:00 a.m., at the Starbucks in Charlotte Plaza. Are you familiar with it?”

“Very. I’ll see you there. And thank you, Mr. Yamada.”

He rose from the stool to replace the phone in the cradle. And as he stood in the quiet of his office, he wondered what he’d gotten himself into.

He’d have to be careful with this reporter. She seemed like the eager type who’d ask him probing questions and try to uncover his entire life story for her own purposes.

But no matter what she had planned, he couldn’t let her do that.

Because there were parts of his life that no one could ever know about.

Chapter 2

With a cup of iced coffee and a warm croissant in hand, Nona slid into a seat at a table for two near the front of Starbucks Tuesday morning. It was eight thirty, well before the time she was scheduled to meet with Ken Yamada, but she’d come in early for several reasons. First, she needed to get something in her stomach and get caffeinated so she could be fully ready for this crucial first interview.

The other reason she’d come in early was to snag the right table. It needed to be small so that she would be sitting in close proximity to her interview subject. She found that nearness made people more likely to open up. The table also needed to be near the front so she could see him when he walked in. After years of doing in-person interviews, she’d become an expert at reading people: their stride, their expression and their body language.

She munched on her croissant, washing it down with a sip of the cold, sweetened coffee. While she ate, she wondered what Ken would be like in person. Their brief phone interaction had given her very little to go on. From that conversation, she could only tell that he had a deep voice, that he was a busy person and that he wasn’t a fan of being interviewed. He’d been pleasant with her but still managed to be a bit brusque when he’d asked her how many interviews she’d need.

She settled into her seat, pulling out her phone. She’d made sure it was fully charged so she could use its recording app to capture their conversation. Beyond that, she’d brought along her charger, just in case. She considered being prepared to be one of her greatest strengths.

She was scrolling through her email when the phone rang and her best friend’s face and name appeared on the caller ID. Knowing she still had at least ten minutes until Ken would arrive, she swiped to answer the call. “Hey, girl.”

“Hey, Nona.” Hadley Monroe, Nona’s closest pal since college, sounded chipper as ever. “What’s up in the big city?”

Nona chuckled at Hadley’s quip. “I’m guessing most places are big cities when you compare them to Sapphire Shores.”

Hadley popped her lips, the familiar sound reverberating in Nona’s ear. “Nona, don’t be hating on my little slice of paradise. But for real, what are you up to today? Anything interesting?”

“I’m actually at a coffee shop, waiting for an interview subject to arrive. Remember the feature I told you about Saturday?”

It sounded like she was chewing something. Between bites, Hadley spoke. “Yeah. The one about the architect and the old opera house or something.”

Nona rolled her eyes. “It’s a theater. But yes, I’m interviewing the architect today.”

Hadley stopped chewing. “Oh, girl. Is he fine? Have you seen him?”

“No, he hasn’t gotten here yet, so I don’t know what he looks like.”

“Um, hello, Ms. Ace Reporter. We have this invention now where you can look people up. Have you heard of it? It’s called the internets.” Her tone was rich in sarcastic humor.

“Shut up, Hadley. You know I have a very specific method of doing my stories. I never web search someone until I’ve met them in person. I don’t want anything clouding my first impression of them.” That had always been her policy, and it had never failed her, so she didn’t plan on changing it any time soon. Balancing the phone on her shoulder, she spread her favorite pens in front of her. She rarely took handwritten notes due to advances in technology, but she liked to have the pens there anyway.

“All right, whatever. But I’m expecting a call after you meet him. If he’s fine, I wanna know about it.” The sounds on Hadley’s end of the line included the rattling of pots and pans and running water.

“Hadley, what are you doing? There’s a lot of background noise.”

“I just finished breakfast and now I’m washing up my dishes before I head over to the office.”

“Another fun-filled day at Monroe Properties, eh?” Nona chuckled, knowing most people would be very happy with having an ocean view from their desk. But since Hadley worked for the family business and often complained about feeling stifled, she probably saw things differently.

Hadley sighed. “Yes, girl. But at least Savion is on vacation this week, so I only have to deal with Campbell. Working with family ain’t easy.”

“Let me get off the phone. I’ve got an interview and you’ve got to go do your brother’s bidding. I’ll talk to you later.”

“’Bye, girl.” Hadley disconnected the call.