Rush: A Second Chance Romance

by Ellen Lane

  Vladimir wasn’t used to his urges reigning over him. He’d never met a woman that he’d been unable to make rational decisions about - one whose sheer presence had clouded his judgement. While he wouldn’t say that Charlotte being in his office had made a huge impact on his reaction to her plans, the fact that she was so often on his mind almost two weeks later spoke volumes.

  There was something about her...something he couldn’t put his finger on.

  And it was driving him up the wall.

  Part of him had hoped that, somewhere in his research, he would find the answer. While he had discovered a wealth of information about Charlotte herself, he found nothing to justify his inexplicable attraction to her. She had been raised by her father after her mother died, and had been through just about every gifted program that her town had to offer. Soon after graduating high school at the top of her class, she had gone to Berkeley for her undergraduate degree in design before heading to architecture school. From there, the waves she made had only grown until she reached her current position.

  Designing for Kensley Enterprises - no small feat for a woman so young.

  If nothing else, she deserved his respect, Vlad knew - and he would do his utmost best to be warm with her when they met. He promised himself that, if they were to work together on this project, then he was going to have to get to know her.

  To understand her.

  That was the only way they were ever going to see eye to eye. Now, the question was: was she going to allow him to get to know her? He knew he himself would be more than reticent if someone had insulted him the way he’d insulted her -however inadvertently.

  Vladimir supposed he would find out soon enough.

  As always, he dressed meticulously. He had always favored three piece suits where his father favored two piece, which amused Jackson immensely. His mother, however, had long complimented him on his dress sense. Insanely, Vladimir found himself wondering what kind of suits Charlotte Garner liked to see a man in.

  He had to be losing his mind.

  It was a brilliant early spring day - though Vlad didn’t know if he had ever found the weather in LA to be anything other than brilliant. In New York, he knew there might still be a chance of snow, but on the west coast, it was a balmy seventy degrees.

  This time, when he left his hotel to the acclaim of multiple media outlets, he was fully prepared to shut them out. Vladimir made a beeline for the waiting car and slipped inside moments before the driver sped off towards downtown LA. The ceremony was set to take place around ten in the morning, which meant that he’d be a good hour so early.

  Thanks to the heavy security that encircled the site, he would almost certainly be able to get an eyeful of the lay of the land before people started to gather - and that was what he was after.

  As they drove through the wide streets and he took in the numerous skyscrapers and office buildings, he marveled at how different the west coast was from the east coast. Besides the Kensley Manor, Manhattan was the only place he had ever thought of as home - and, despite Ethan’s teasing prodding, he couldn’t imagine relocating to LA. Things were so different here...the way places were spread out, the pace of life...if anything, it was the exact opposite of Manhattan, and that put him on edge.

  Vladimir liked being in control - a character flaw he couldn’t control.

  So when he arrived at the building site and found it already occupied, he was slightly perturbed. It only took him a moment, however, to realize that his company happened to be the object of his frustrations.

  Charlotte Garner had arrived before him. Once he stepped out of the car, Vlad did a double take - but there was no mistaking her. All that fiery hair and that tall, lovely figure - today she wore a cream-colored dress that covered slender legs along with a navy colored blazer - and she looked like no architect he’d ever interacted with.

  In fact, for a split second, Vlad was pretty sure it should be illegal that he was slotted to work with a woman as breathtakingly beautiful as she was. His father hadn’t thought to mention that when he sent Vlad all the way across the country - he hadn’t even mentioned how thoroughly different this project would be from any his son had ever tackled before.

  But that was just like his father. Trust Jackson to test him without giving him so much as a hint to the nature of the test. Though, he had to admit, describing Charlotte Gardner in and of herself was quite the challenge - even if his Dad had attempted to define her, he doubted he would have understood.

  He had hoped to come to the construction site early to get a little perspective on things, but now he found himself dealing with Charlotte far sooner than he might have anticipated. Part of him wanted to get back in the car and wait for the board to start arriving, but ultimately, Vladimir decided to put his best foot forward.

  Better to talk to her now, when there was no one else around to watch him flounder, after all.

  He checked that security around the building site was in place before stepping over the ropes and into a space that used to be a wide courtyard. The property they meant to use had actually been an old theater and courtyard about seventy years prior, and had never been renovated. It was still lovely in a dilapidated kind of way - with the sun coming in through various crevasses in the ceiling. Any evidence that the courtyard had once been carefully tended was completely overgrown, and he found himself stepping carefully through thatches of weeds and ivy.

  Though he didn’t mean to sneak up on her, he was able to come within a yard or two of her before he spoke. “Nice to see you again. Miss. Gardner.”

  She jumped about a foot in the air, whirling to gaze at him with a hand on her heart. “Goddamn it, don’t sneak up on people like that!” For the barest moment, her face was flushed and her eyes alight with alarm - and, inexplicably, Vladimir felt himself struggling against a laugh. He hadn’t meant to startle her - and he certainly wasn’t a prankster - but after all the anxiety he’d faced about confronting her, seeing her like this suddenly bolstered his confidence.

  Just as quickly as Charlotte’s face had registered surprise, her mouth shrank into a thin line when she realized who he was. He watched her swallow thickly and open her mouth before shutting it. She was, he realized, at just as much a loss for words as he imagined he might be at this moment. After all, two weeks was quite a while for their last meeting to foment.

  Vlad decided to break the silence. “I see you’ve come to the project site early as well. Checking your calculations?”

  Charlotte’s eyes flashed dangerously, but she didn’t lash out at him as she had before. Instead, she spoke slowly - as if she were measuring her words to ensure that she kept her composure. “No, sir. I’m fairly sure my calculations are precise...I just came to take a last look at this old theater before they demolish it.” She lifted her gaze from his to stare at the crumbling ceiling above them and the overgrowth beneath their feet. “It would have been something to see it restored…” Her voice lowered slightly and Vlad could see on her face that she had travelled somewhere far away - seeing in her mind’s eye how the building might have been in its heyday.

  When Vlad followed her gaze, all he could see was the dilapidated remains of crumbling brick and mortar. Of course, he wasn’t versed in nineteen forties architecture, so he had no point of reference, but any beauty this place held took a lot of imagination to recall.

  Charlotte, he knew, could probably do it easily. That was, after all, what she did. She was the definition of thinking outside the box.

  And he was her exact opposite.

  God above, this was going to be harder, even, than he had imagined.

  “I’m sure it was very fine, in its day. “It was as much as he could manage, and if the way Charlotte eyed him skeptically was any indication, he was sure he sounded far from genuine. “In a way, the fact that your building will stand here will count as tribute, won’t it? Physical manifestation of the development of architecture.”

  “Well, that’s the wonderful thing about
architecture, Mr. Kensley,” Charlotte lifted her skirt, revealing a few tantalizing inches of creamy ankle as she stepped over a particularly thick patch of weeds. “You can use elements from any period and put them into any structure - people both pay homage to and combine aspects of older architecture even in this day and age. And there is absolutely nothing wrong with that.” She dusted off her blazer before picking a spider from the shoulder to toss gently onto the ground beside her.

  Vladimir just stared at her, utterly transfixed. Here she was, standing in the middle of the ruins of a building probably infested with rats and bugs and covered in dust and she didn’t seem to care one single wit. Just another count on which Charlotte Gardner was like no woman he had ever known. “But that’s not what you do.” He spoke before he could stop himself, and inwardly groaned at his own impulsiveness. It was times like this where he wished his mother had taught him that verbal filter she had always warned him he was so dangerously lacking in.

  Charlotte looked up at him, dropping a thick hank of red gold curls over her shoulder. Instead of being angry, however, she was smiling - that same mysterious, knowing smile she had graced him with the day they met at the airport. “No. It’s not. But that doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate it.”

  She gave him a cursory once over that spoke volumes of what she thought of him standing there in his impeccably tailored suit. “What are you doing here so early? I thought the speeches and revelry weren’t set to start for an hour or so.”

  At that, Vlad arched a brow. “You assumed I’d just come for the speeches and revelry?”

  Charlotte opened her mouth, then shut it with an incriminating look, and Vlad realized, with no small amount of surprise, that she was actually trying to censor herself. He would have thought her even more inclined to impulsive thoughts than he himself, but here she was, doing her best to be amiable.

  Perhaps relations between them wouldn’t be so difficult.

  Now, he supposed, was a better time than any to try and start over. “Charlotte, I owe you an apology.”

  The redhead, who had knelt to pick up an intricately carved piece of what might have been molding or ornate ceiling, immediately looked up at him warily. “What for?”

  Vlad exhaled a long breath. Lucas had warned him that women never appreciated empty apologies. They wanted to know exactly what the perpetrator was apologizing for, and they were especially sensitive when a man was the one doing the apologizing. How his youngest brother had gotten so savvy about all of this, Vladimir had no clue, but he was inclined to believe him. He, after all, had never been much of a people person.

  “When we first met to discuss your designs, I was quite...dismissive. That wasn’t polite of me, no matter what I think of what I see before me. If my father chose you, well, I’m sure he did so because your design suits our ideals best. I’ll be careful to consider that going forward.”

  For a long moment, the young woman merely stared up at him, her expression somewhat perplexed. Slowly, she stood to her full height to run fingers through her glorious mane of curls. “That is...without a doubt, the most analytical apology I’ve ever heard in my life.”

  Perhaps it was, but it was an apology just the same - and all Vlad could do was hope she accepted it. “Do you mind if I ask you a slightly personal question?”

  Well that was something that he hadn’t expected at all. Her question through Vladimir for somewhat of a loop and he found himself eying her warily. “What kind of question?”

  But Charlotte didn’t seem interested in delving into specifics - she asked him just the same. “When’s the last time you apologized to someone?”

  Now it was Vladimir’s turn to be speechless. Certainly, he apologized to his brothers and parents all the time - but they were halfhearted apologies that he only hoped would make up for his personality quirks. The last time he had well and truly apologized to someone...well...it had been a very, very long time. His father had told him to do his best to act in a manner that would require little apology - and Vlad thought he had been doing admirably in that arena.

  At least, until he met Charlotte. Now, he wasn’t quite sure.

  “Why do you ask?” It was easier to counter her question with a question - and in return, Charlotte merely smiled once more.

  “Because you seem really out of practice.”

  He should have been offended. If she were someone working in his Manhattan office, he would have been - no question about it. Here, in LA, where he felt completely out of place, Vlad only found himself strangely amused.

  “I might be. Perhaps more than I’ve ever considered.” It was a strange admission to a woman he barely knew, and yet, here he was.

  “Well, Step One is admitting the problem.” Now she was just teasing him, but Vlad found that the detail didn’t displease him. Quite the opposite, in fact.

  “And what’s step two?” He found himself inquiring wryly.

  “Admitting yourself to a clinic for apologists-in-training.” She returned, her expression as serious as her eyes were full of mirth. “And make a serious attempt at recovery.”

  She was being completely and totally ridiculous - and yet he still struggled against a smile. “Does this mean you accept my apology?”

  At his question, her eyes turned from teasing to contemplative in the space of a few seconds. “Do you accept my design?”

  Goddamn it. Lying wasn’t, and never had been, one of Vladimir’s fortes. He was even worse at it than he was at understanding people - and so he avoided doing so whenever possible. The truth was: Even though his apology was sincere, he no more understood the validity of Charlotte Gardner’s design plans than he had the moment he first laid eyes on them.

  But that was why he was talking to her now. “I’m doing my best, Miss Gardner.”

  He didn’t think he’d ever spoken a truer statement. Charlotte’s honey colored eyes swept over him, and for a moment, he thought she meant to turn her back on him again. When she spoke, however, her words were surprisingly soft. “Well I suppose that’s all I can ask.” With that, she stepped forward, extending the piece of rubble in her hands to him.

  It was half-covered in dust and God knew what else, but Vlad took it from her without hesitation. He looked down at it, wondering what on earth so entranced Charlotte about the weathered lines and aged material. When it occurred to him to ask her, however, he found that she had already moved away from him. He barely caught the flap of her skirts as she stepped out of the ruins and back into the morning sunlight.

  Beyond the crumbling walls, he saw a large number of people had gathered and realized, with a start, that it was almost time to begin the groundbreaking ceremony. Had time really passed so quickly?

  Sure enough, in the next few minutes, several overly burly security officers were inside the theater, looking for him.

  It was time.

  Though Marcy was back in New York, Vlad thought he’d done a good job of writing his own speech - there were quite a few lovely lines about moving forward, company development, and how the new West Coast hub would serve as a launching point for the expansion of future endeavors. He had hoped to impress with it, but Vlad found himself distracted.

  He was facing a crowd of well over two hundred people as well as many important figures. The president of the construction company they were using, as well as a master engineer who was one of the top in his field - but Vlad was overly aware of the woman next to him - her scent, the warmth of her body, the way the wind caught tendrils of her deep red hair so she had to keep tucking them back into place.

  This couldn’t be good. He certainly wanted a good working relationship with her, but that would all be shot to hell if he couldn’t keep his wits about him when she was around. It wasn’t a problem he’d had to deal with before, and now Vlad found himself somewhat...perturbed.

  But that wouldn’t put him off his plans.

  A grand cheer rounded off his speech as the men he planned to work with shook his hand and slapped him o
n the back good-naturedly. When Charlotte approached him, he held onto her hand for almost certainly a bit longer than was proprietary, but she didn’t seem to notice. The loud rumble of demolition machines behind the podium drowned out everything else, and everyone present watched as wrecking balls began to work on the remains of the decrepit theater behind them. While almost everyone went wild when they began to destroy the crumbling walls, Charlotte merely stared at the piles of brick and steel beams with an almost longing expression.

  “Miss Gardner.” She turned to face him, arching a brow in inquiry. Vlad forced himself to ask his question before he lost his gall. “Would you like to have dinner with me tomorrow night? To discuss plans for the structure, of course.” He wanted to leave no questions as to what the occasion was. He, more than anyone else, disapproved of intimacy in the workplace, and the last thing he wanted was Charlotte thinking he intended to take advantage of her in such a way.

  “Alright.” He was surprised when she agreed after only a brief moment of contemplation, her eyes mischievous once more. “But I get to choose the place. I hope your tastes don’t run too expensive.”

  It was the second time she’d slipped a jibe into their conversation - an insinuation that he was a man surrounded by luxury in his high castle.

  How little she knew. “My tastes are varied - but they matter little. I’m supposed to be trusting your judgement, aren’t I?”

  Her smile only widened. “I’d like nothing better.”

  She was a sharp-tongued little thing - which he wouldn’t mind if it didn’t give him such an insistent urge to taste that smart mouth of hers. If this was going to work, Vlad could be on nothing less than his best behavior. It didn’t matter how drawn he was to Charlotte Gardner and her uniqueness - he was, and always would be, a professional - first and foremost.