Patricia Thayer - The Man, The Ring, The Wedding

Her smile dropped. “I was hoping to meet Mr. Rossi today.”

“I believe he’s scheduled all appointments for tomorrow,” John said.

“But I want to see him first. Pitch my outline of ideas for the renovation, one on one. It’s so hard to talk with a roomful of other contractors around.” Her blue eyes met his and a slow smile spread across her face. “Maybe you could help me. Put in a good word for me and my company.”

She opened her thin leather briefcase and pulled out a folder. “We have tons of references. And we’ve been in business for over thirty years. Please,” she said, pushing the folder towards him. “Could you at least give this to him?”

John raised his hands, knowing he had to tell her who he was. “Look Ms....”

“Covelli, Angelina.”

“A beautiful name.”

“Thank you.” She smiled again.

His chest tightened and he found himself taking the folder. “Look, Ms. Covelli, I should tell you that I’m—”

“Mr. Rossi,” a voice called from the door behind him. “There’s a call on your phone. Your office in New York.”

“Please tell them I’ll call them back,” John instructed, then turned back to see the fiery look in Angelina Covelli’s eyes.

“As I was about to tell you, I’m John Rossi, Ms. Covelli.” He held out his hand. “It’s nice to meet you. Mark Learner, my assistant, has been singing your praises the past few months.”

She looked down at his hand then finally shook it. “I apologize, Mr. Rossi. I know I should have waited until tomorrow, but I was hoping to be the first to see you.”

He cocked an eyebrow. “So you were trying to get the advantage?”

She raised her gaze and stared at him. “Whatever it takes. But ask around, Covelli and Sons is the best for the job.” She pulled out a business card and handed it to him. “You will be disappointed if you choose anyone else.” She pivoted on her high-heeled shoes and, with an arrogant tilt of her chin, marched across the lobby.

Unable to tear his gaze away, John watched the raven-haired Angelina until she disappeared through the door.

“Damn,” he breathed, angry with himself for not being better prepared for Ms. Covelli. He hadn’t planned on their first meeting happening like this. And the last thing he expected was to turn into a randy teenager the second she batted those big blue eyes at him, making him forget the reason he’d come to Haven Springs, Indiana.

He walked into the small room behind the registration desk. At one time, it had been a large linen closet. Now it would serve as his office for the next thirty days. Time enough to get the Grand Haven project under way, and most importantly, to be back in New York in time to spend the holidays with the only family he had, his grandfather.

And maybe by that time, he’d find out all he needed to know about the Covellis.

Angelina made it back to Covelli and Sons’ office and collapsed into her desk chair. With a groan, she dropped her head into her hands. She had messed up everything, and her brothers were going to kill her.

She thought back to the fiasco at the hotel, and to the man who she had thought was the security guard. John Rossi had no right to be dressed in jeans and boots. He was from New York. A CEO for goodness sakes! Where was the three-piece suit? And he’d flirted with her, too. Wasn’t there some sort of law about that?

She groaned again. She had flirted back. But a woman would have to be comatose not to recognize the man’s good looks. “Tall, dark and handsome” definitely fitted him. How could you not notice his thick black hair and those bottomless dark eyes? At about six feet, he had broad shoulders that had no problem filling out his denim shirt. More than likely he worked out in one of those fancy New York gyms.

An alarm went off in Angelina’s brain, and she pulled herself out of her reverie. Reaching for some papers on the desk, she began to straighten the stack. Why was she thinking about things she had no business thinking about? She didn’t daydream about men. There was no future for her in it, hadn’t been for a long time.

The memories weren’t as painful as they once had been when she thought about Justin Hinshaw, her one and only love. A mere four years seemed like a lifetime ago...and she still had her whole life ahead of her. Still, she would never risk her heart again. “So stop thinking about things you’ll never have,” she murmured. “And remember what needs to be done.” First and foremost, she had to never forget that John Rossi ran the company that controlled the future of Covelli and Sons.

The phone rang and she jumped. She reached for the receiver and picked it up. “Covelli and Sons.”

“Ms. Covelli, this is John Rossi.”

A lump formed in her throat and she swallowed it back. “Mr. Rossi,” she choked out. “What can I do for you?”

“I’m calling to confirm a meeting with you and your brothers tomorrow morning. Ten o’clock is my first scheduled appointment. Would that be a convenient time?”

Oh, God. Angelina placed her hand over her racing heart. They were going to get the first shot. “Yes. Ten o’clock will be fine,” she said. “Thank you, Mr. Rossi.”

“Good, I’ll look forward to seeing you tomorrow,” he said in his deep voice. “Can’t wait to hear more of your ideas.”

“I’ve got plenty,” Angelina added, but controlled her enthusiasm, managing not to blurt any of them out on the phone.

“I bet you do,” he replied. “Until tomorrow, goodbye, Ms. Covelli.”

“Goodbye.” There was a click in her ear.

Angelina replaced the phone and realized her hands were shaking. He hadn’t called off the meeting. She smiled. “He wants to hear more of my ideas.”

“Who wants to hear what?”

Angelina looked up to see one of her brothers standing in the doorway.

The second Covelli son, Rick, named after his grandfather Enrico, was the bigger of her two brothers. With his hair a little long, and dressed in black jeans and T-shirt, he looked like the town’s bad boy—even more so when he put on his leather jacket and climbed on his Harley-Davidson.

Smiling, she got up and walked across the room. “John Rossi just called. He wants to see us tomorrow at ten.”

“That’s great, Lina.” He hugged her. “But I thought we were going in the afternoon.”

The last thing Angelina wanted to do was explain her impromptu visit today. She shrugged. “Maybe he’s scheduling appointments with all the contractors.”

He grinned. “I don’t care what time we go, I just want the chance to get in to see him. Have you told Rafe?”

“Have you told me what?”

The oldest Covelli sibling, Rafaele, Jr., walked into Angelina’s office. He had on new jeans and a maroon polo shirt with the company logo over the pocket. He was more clean-cut than his brother, with short hair and a freshly shaven face. They both had dark, nearly black eyes and looked a lot like their father. Angelina could see them growing more like him each day.

“John Rossi wants us to meet him at the hotel tomorrow morning,” she said, barely holding in her excitement.

Rafe blinked. “Are you serious?”

“Would I joke about this?” Angelina asked.

“Damn.” Rafe sat down on the edge of the desk. “So we finally did it.” He grinned. “We’re going to get the bid.”

“Of course we are,” Angelina assured him. “I’ve invested too much phone time with Rossi International for our bid to be passed over. I’ve talked you both to death, even sent them pictures of every renovation you’ve ever done. John Rossi wouldn’t dare give this job to another company.”

“Rossi could bring in his own people,” Rick said with a frown. “We’ve only got a foot in the door.”