Love Found Me (A City Love Novel, Book 1) by Nina Amari Read Free Book Online Page B

try to relax more. Take it easy."
    Knowing he'd made valid observations, all that was looming in her mind was the craziness and fool-hearted attempts at justifying a life she'd grown entrapped in. Sucked into a life she definitely wasn't intent on giving up anytime soon.
    She pointed her finger at her chest. "Believe it or not, I've had classes. I've been practicing," she hedged, as she swept her hair over her shoulder. "When I make the time. Whenever I find my nerve within all the chaos, which doesn't come often enough."
    Danielle quickly swept her sleeve over her wrist. "I'm sorry to be abrupt, but I've got a meeting in 5 minutes." She gestured at the immense entry partitioning valuable office floor.
    Instantly, Danielle walked toward the double doors as Roman followed.  Just as she grasped the doorknob, she'd noticed he'd paused at the threshold to the executive conference room right behind her.
    "Roman, you mean... you're here for the meeting, but how--" Roman poised and drew a wry smile, as his expression turned serious in response to her inquiry.
    The door was ajar, and he pushed it open, "Ladies first," he said more softly this time. Roman raised his hand high above her head, sprawling his palm against the door as his eyes gestured her onward. She started, just when he ducked his head, barely smacking the metal framing. But then, she realized he hadn't answered her question. "So you never said, why you're here?"
    But, whatever Roman could've said was interrupted by a preppy gentleman, "I asked Mr. Jules to be here," the man said. "Both of you. Have a seat." His voice held a strong brusque command, but that certainly didn't matter to Danielle who was used to playing it tough in the world of a financial powerhouse.
    The next minute, the man raised his voice as he asked, "Espresso anyone?" gesturing toward the niche doubling as a coffee-espresso bar.
    "Thanks. I'm good," Roman replied. And then there was a pause, a heavy silence as Danielle turned and looked Roman straight in the eyes.
    " You know my business partner, Finch?" She gave Roman a blank stare as she moved toward the huge boardroom table from the coffee-espresso bar, mocha latte in hand. Overhead light blazed down, flooding the room. Danielle flung her toffee suede hobo bag on the slick mahogany, "Finch, what's this about--" She took a sip of sizzling java as she turned and sashayed toward him.
    "Listen up Danielle," Finch said, in his garishly graveled voice. His eyes narrowed on hers. "You'll find out all you need to know in a few minutes."
    Finch Young the lurid outspoken managing partner had always held rank and power that had seldom been challenged, not even by Finchley senior. No one dare tried, but Danielle Prentiss wasn't a feeble gullible woman without the backbone to surge her opinion. As for Finch Young, he made no mistake in jeopardizing his or the firm's credulous forty-year reputation.
    Danielle roved her hand over the Harris Tweed pencil skirt tightly hugging her hips and thighs as she strutted over to the massive wall of floor-to-ceiling glass, "Well, Finch..." she said in between sips, as her raspberry-crimson shaded lipstick wedged smears between the creases of styrofoam. "We're waiting." She ogled his silence in tolerance.
    From the forty-first floor, urban valleys shrunk into tiny ants through vaporous fog and stormy drizzle. She stopped in her tracks, admiring the vapid sky, as she knocked back a sixteen-ounce java in a matter of seconds.
    Roman cleared his throat, and drew a long breath of growing impatience, just as Danielle gulped her last sip. She brushed aside the colossal antique mahogany table to grab a seat. It started to creak as she groped the ornate carvings with her ruby nails, and submersed the deep swivel chair.
    She cocked her four-inch pink suede around her spiny ankles, as she focused on Finch's rousing seriousness. His russet hair feathered silvery flecks at the temples and his eyelids folded stress in its creases. He was