Blueprint for Love
Love Under Construction Series: Book 2
By Chanta Rand
Copyright 2014 Chanta Rand
Smashwords Edition
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Blueprint for Love
Ronnie Jones is busy trying to juggle the challenges of a new construction business along with the demands of being a single mother. After the death of her husband six years ago, she’s sworn off relationships. Who needs to deal with the hassles of dating anyway? She’s surrounded by sweaty construction workers all day. She’s not easily impressed with men. Especially not with cocky Vic Romano. From the moment the ex-con walks into her office looking for a job, he rubs her the wrong way.
All Vic Romano needs is a break. He’s served his time and he’s ready to work towards a new beginning. He has his sights set on the foreman job at Three Sisters Construction. Unfortunately, he gets off on the wrong foot with co-owner, Ronnie Jones. His hopes for a fresh start are dashed before he can even get his steel-toed boot through the door.
When fate intervenes and their paths cross again, Ronnie realizes she may have misjudged Vic. The fact that he’s damn sexy and he makes her panties melt doesn’t hurt either. Every time the two get together, the sexual tension is hotter than fireworks on the 4th of July. Vic is confident he can break through Ronnie’s tough exterior, but Ronnie will have to look past the mistake he made years ago to appreciate the man he is today.
Is this a disaster waiting to happen? Or could it be the blueprint for love?
ONE
Vic Romano breathed a sigh of relief when the police cruiser flew past the curb where he stood and made a sharp right turn. The red and blue flashing lights disappeared down a busy Miami street. Even though the cops weren’t pursuing him, he still flinched every time he heard the shrill sound of the police siren. He had to remember he was not that little punk ass teenager of so long ago. He was not plea-bargaining. He was a grown man now. He’d put those transgressions behind him.
Today, he’d traded his steel-toed boots for loafers that hurt his feet, khaki slacks, and a button down shirt. No use wearing a suit to an interview as a foreman. He had to look the part.
Like he was capable.
And he was.
Despite losing five years of his life in prison.
Should he tell the interviewer about his past? Yep, his parole officer said to be honest. It would come out sooner or later on the reference check. He tugged at the fat knot of his tie. It had been a long time since he’d worn one of these torture-devices. He was more at home in jeans and t-shirts. But he had to make a good first impression. He was embarking on a new beginning. And if wearing this getup was the price of admission, he’d gladly do it.
He passed the mirrored doors leading to the entrance of Three Sisters Construction. The reflection staring back at him was confident and self-assured, with a grim-set look of determination. His emerald eyes were set against skin tanned from too much time spent outside in the elements. The hard angles of his jaw hadn’t been malformed, despite all the fights he’d been in. His thick black hair was longer than was considered professional. But he’d pulled it into a short ponytail for today’s interview. He was willing to make a lot of changes now that he was out of the pen—chopping off his locks was not one of them.
He welcomed the blast of cool air that greeted him when he opened the door. It was a hot, sticky day. In about six hours, the sun would start sinking, and the ocean breeze would cool things off. In the meantime, life was unbearable unless you were wearing a swimsuit.
The woman at the front desk stared as he approached. She looked more like a starlet than a secretary. Her heavily mascaraed lashes swept across him, eyeing him with a hungry look. Vic could have sworn she licked her red lips before asking, “What can I do for you, sir?”
The air was pregnant with her innuendo. The old Vic would have tossed her a dazzling smile, flirted a little, and then found the nearest horizontal surface to get to know her better. Funny how a nickel in the pen could change a man. He had no desire to get sidetracked by some chick who might be trouble later on. Besides, he’d already gotten his itch scratched the moment he got out of prison last week.
“I’m Vic Romano,” he said. “I’m here to see Ronnie Jones.”
The secretary picked up the phone and pressed a button. “Ronnie, Vic Romano is here.” She nodded and then hung up the phone. “Have a seat,” she told him. “It shouldn’t be long.”
He glanced at the other three men sitting in the waiting room. They all appeared better prepared than him.
C’mon, man. You can do this. You’re just as good as these guys.
He didn’t bother to look at the magazines on the table or hum along to the country-western song playing low on the secretary’s radio. His intestines were twisted like a rope. When he folded his arms over his chest, his fingers grazed the damp material beneath his armpits. The only time he’d been more nervous was when he’d sat in a Dade County courtroom awaiting the verdict of his case. He wiped at the beads of perspiration on his upper lip. His future depended on this job. Well, things weren’t that drastic, but if he didn’t seal the deal today, he’d be back at square one. He needed some good news in his life right now.
After fifteen minutes, he checked his watch. He was on time. Ronnie Jones, however, was ten minutes late. Whoever this guy was, he probably kept people waiting all the time. That’s how the world worked. The big dogs called the shots. The little dogs scratched and survived, waiting patiently for their turn. Vic fell somewhere in between. He damn sure wasn’t a little dog. He knew what it took to be the leader of the pack. But every time he got close, something blocked his path. He’d wasted too much time getting derailed from his goals. He was an entrepreneur at heart. He had plans to establish his own business. Today was a stepping-stone in that direction. A new beginning.
The door to the inner office opened, and a woman with mocha colored skin wearing a prim and proper pantsuit stepped out. She was pretty in an understated way. The way she had the top button of her pink blouse buttoned tightly against the hollow of her throat let Vic know the woman was all business.
“Victor Romano,” she called out to no one in particular.
Vic was so busy staring at the lush lines of her lips he almost didn’t hear his name. For a secretary, she sure had an air of authority about her. Her skin was flawless. His first thought was what would it feel like beneath his fingers? His second was, were all the secretaries here this hot? And where the hell was this Ronnie fellow? The chick in the pantsuit must be taking Vic to meet the guy. Or maybe she was the first round of the interview. In either case, he’d better pile on the charm with this one.
He stood. “You can call me Vic, pretty lady.”
The woman’s half-smile faded.
Oh, shit. Maybe that was the wrong strategy.
“Follow me,” she ordered.
Vic enjoyed watching the sway of her backside as she led him down a narrow corridor. They passed two other offices, a break room, a copy room, and then finally, they entered a bright, airy office. A half-dozen potted plants were the only snatches of color in an otherwise minimalistic room.
“Have a seat,” the woman said.
“I’m supposed to be meeting some guy named Ronnie,” Vic answered as he half-lowered himself i
nto a black leather chair.
“I’m Ronnie,” she confirmed, pointing to a brass nameplate on the door that read, Veronica Jones. “Maybe if you hadn’t been staring so hard at my ass, you would have noticed that.”
“How did you—?”
“I have eyes in the back of my head.”
He chuckled at her boldness and his stupidity. She was right. He’d been so focused on her round backside he hadn’t paid attention to the sign on the door.
“Something funny?” she asked, looking mildly annoyed.
“I’ve learned that when you foul up in life, you have to learn to laugh about it. Can’t take yourself too seriously.”
She regarded him coolly for a moment. “Well, let’s get this over with. I’ve got a lot of serious candidates out there waiting.”
Vic sat down, even though he had the feeling he wouldn’t be here for long. So much for new beginnings.
Ronnie stared at the man seated across from the desk in her office. Pensive eyes. Long, aquiline nose. Coal-black hair. Athletic build. Everything he did—from the deep drawl of his voice, to the too-familiar way he addressed her, exuded arrogance. Even the way he sat in her chair, as if he owned the place, rubbed her the wrong way.
Okay, so he was good-looking. With dreamy green eyes and sculpted cheekbones, he was better suited as a runway model than a member of a construction crew. But his chauvinistic behavior detracted from his good looks. The man’s date of birth showed he was seven years younger than her. How could a man reach the age of twenty-nine and not have learned any lessons in humility? This was definitely not the kind of guy she wanted working for Three Sisters Construction. She and her sisters, Candace and Marlowe, had put their blood, sweat and tears into co-owning this business. She’d be damned if she let some handsome, Antonio Banderas look-a-like come in here and foul it up.
“You’re applying for the position of foreman,” Ronnie confirmed. “What other experience do you have?”
“I have a carpentry background, as well as experience as an electrician. I’ve worked with Pinnacle Construction in the past. You may have heard of them. I’m reliable, and I’ve got what it takes to lead a crew.”
Ronnie consulted the file containing his brief résumé. There was a lot she wanted to know, but only one question burned in her mind. “You have a five-year gap in your employment,” she noted aloud. “What happened?”
She was busy scribbling notes while she waited for his reply. He paused for so long, she wasn’t sure he was going to answer. She looked up, expectantly.
“That gap represents time I spent reflecting on a mistake I made,” he said. “I’ve since put the incident behind me, and it has no bearing on my ability to do this job. If you take me on, you’ll find I’m more than capable of taking care of business.”
She read between the lines. An ex-con.
What crime had he committed? Was she allowed to ask?
To hell with it. She was in charge of recruiting and hiring. She had a right to know.
“Why were you incarcerated?” she asked.
His gaze held hers. Something flickered in his eyes that she couldn’t quite put her finger on. Anger? Regret? Frustration? “It’s a long story.”
I’ll bet!
“Was it for larceny?” she asked.
“No.”
Good. She didn’t want to have to worry about anyone stealing from the company. As her eyes flitted over his muscular physique, another, darker thought popped into her mind. Vic Romano was a brawny man. He could easily overpower someone.
Some helpless female.
“You weren’t in there for rape, were you?”
His smooth-as-butter exterior finally cracked. He pinned her with an intense look. “Ms. Jones, I don’t need to force myself on any woman. I’d never stoop to such a disgusting crime.”
He actually looked pissed. She realized she’d touched a nerve. On more than one occasion, she’d been accused of being blunt. When it came to business, hell yes. She got right to the point. When it came to her personal life, she was even more direct. No use beating around the bush.
“Thank you for your time, Mr. Romano.”
“That’s it?” He looked surprised the interview was over so soon.
“Yes, as you can see, I’ve got three more people to interview. It’s barely two p.m. I interviewed double that amount before lunch.”
“I see. Are you the final decision-maker?”
Ronnie couldn’t explain the subtle difference in Vic. Was it his tone? His firm-set jaw? The way his full lips pressed together in agitation? Whatever it was, his playful manner was gone. His stunning green eyes stared at her with a serious gaze.
The truth was all hiring decisions were made at her discretion, but she did like to run all potential applicants by her sisters. Today, she would skip that step. Vic Romano had no potential in this company. Besides, something told her having this man around could be dangerous in more ways than one.
“Yes, I am the final decision-maker.” She gave him a tight smile to indicate she was not the least bit intimidated. But she was.
He stood, and she couldn’t help but notice the way his muscular thighs hugged his trousers. “When will I know something?” he asked.
Ronnie wanted to squeeze her eyes shut to block out the masculine image. She could imagine those thighs lying between hers, driving powerfully into her. Vic Romano was all male, all consuming. Yes, he was a danger—if only to her libido.
“If you’re selected, we’ll be in touch,” she said.
That was the answer she gave when she had no intention of hiring someone. Her secretary, Olivia, would call and give him the bad news.
She thought that was the end of it, but then Vic turned and asked, “You don’t plan on hiring me, do you, Ms. Jones?”
Her heartbeat stumbled in her chest. The nerve of this man! “I never said that.”
“You didn’t have to. The look in your eyes told me all I need to know.”
“You don’t know anything about me, Mr. Romano.”
“I know you don’t seem like the type to give a man a second chance.”
Ronnie sat stone-faced at her desk. Vic had pegged her correctly. She had high expectations of men. Her mother had brought home plenty of losers. Some were bums. Others were just plain ole criminals. Ronnie been forced to live with that for years as a child. Now, she was a grown woman. She’d be damned if she’d be forced to swallow it now. She kept her best professional demeanor in place.
Who the hell did this guy think he was? Demanding to know her decision now.
I don’t care how fine he is. I have my limits!
“Thank you for your brutal honesty, Mr. Romano. If you don’t hear from someone in a few days, it’s safe to assume we’ve selected another candidate.”
He dipped his head low, nodded in acknowledgement and then he slipped through the open office door.
Ronnie expelled a long breath. Good, he was gone. She didn’t know why the man rattled her, but for some reason, he did.
She reached for the intercom to buzz Olivia when the woman sauntered through her door. With her five-inch heels and short skirt, she looked like a supermodel—minus the ‘super.’ Olivia never did anything super.
Only half-assed.
But she was loyal to Ronnie and she worked without complaint.
“Good Lord!” Olivia exclaimed. “Did you see the hunk who just left here?” She rolled her eyes heavenward and licked her lips as though she were savoring an all-day lollipop. “He is one prime piece of meat.”
Ronnie shook her head. “Girl, if you don’t get out of here, drooling all over my wood floors.”
Olivia laughed, the bright red of her lipstick revealing perfect, white teeth. “Seriously, Ronnie. Are you telling me you didn’t think that guy was hot?”
Ronnie shook her finger at her secretary. “Don’t open us up to a sexual harassment suit. It works both ways you know?”
“I didn’t say a word to him, I swear. I was t
oo busy picking my jaw up off the ground. Please tell me we’re hiring him. Please, please.”
“No. We are definitely not hiring Vic Romano.”
“Why?”
“Because he’s not qualified. And he has a record.”
“So.”
“So? Have you lost your mind? We can’t have a felon working here.”
“Everybody deserves a second chance.”
Ronnie could have sworn Olivia had been listening to her and Vic’s conversation. She would have to get that intercom checked. Knowing Olivia’s nosey ass, she’d probably rigged it so she could hear everything going on in this office.
“Can you bring in the next candidate, please? And start typing up Vic’s rejection letter.”
“Shit. I was looking forward to personally giving him the New Employee Orientation.” Olivia stroked her hips for emphasis.
Despite her irritation, Ronnie cracked a grin. “Either you need to get out more often or your vibrator is out of batteries. In either case, you are trippin’.” Ronnie consulted her computer, indicating the conversation was over. “Next candidate.”
Olivia pouted. “Fine. Back to your ‘business as usual’ self. Oh,” she prompted on the way out the door, “don’t forget Candace is giving her big speech tomorrow. You need to leave here by six in order to make it to Miami Beach. And you still don’t have a dress.”
Ronnie groaned. How could she forget about the SBA Gala? Candace was being honored for Small Business Association Woman of the Year. It was an incredible accomplishment, especially given the fact that Three Sisters Construction had only been officially operating for eighteen months. The family owed so much of their success to Candace’s fiancé, Gabe, who’d been instrumental in helping them grow from a fledgling company to a respected corporation.
“Thanks for the reminder. I hate these social functions.”
“I know. Thank God we have Marlowe to take care of our public relations. You are such a killjoy.”
Marlowe was Ronnie’s younger sister, who was much more suited to working a crowd and talking people’s heads off. Ronnie shrugged. “If wanting to curl up with a good book and a mug of cappuccino instead of rubbing elbows with snobs all night is being a killjoy, I’m guilty as charged.”
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