The Man, The Ring, The Wedding. Patricia Thayer

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The Man, The Ring, The Wedding - Patricia  Thayer


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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.”

      Angelina wasn’t going to let her brother bring her down. “Well then, tomorrow we go over there and convince him that Covelli and Sons can handle the job.” Her gaze shot back and forth between her brothers. “Come on, you two are the best. And you deserve to have this project.”

      Rafe and Rick exchanged a serious glance, then Rick spoke. “Rossi could refuse us because of ... what happened with Dad.”

      Angelina closed her eyes, remembering not only the pain of losing her father, Rafaele, in a construction accident, but the humiliation of the false accusations that the company had used substandard materials. “But Dad was cleared. Peter Hardin confessed to setting him up.”

      Rick raised a calming hand. “I know, Lina, but sometimes people are still going to believe the worst about us.”

      She thought back to her impromptu encounter an hour ago with John Rossi. She had to believe that he was going to give them a chance and at least consider their ideas for the Grand Haven. He simply had to award them the job. It was the only way Covelli and Sons could get firmly back on its feet.

      Then Angelina would finally have her independence—and the freedom to find her own career. Since she’d given up on love, wasn’t that all she had left?

      Chapter Two

      The next morning, John sat at his desk going through paperwork and trying to keep his mind off Angelina Covelli. He tossed two business cards, one for an electrician and another for a heating company, into the trashcan. He would use his own people. It was the only way to insure the job was done right. The Covellis weren’t “his people,” but something told him they could be trusted.

      John grabbed a pad of paper and a pen, and went into the lobby. He had a few minutes before the Covellis arrived and he wanted to make a list of renovations, starting with things that needed immediate attention. He took a quick trip around the hotel lobby, and realized just how many things there were in need of repair.

      How could anyone let this beautiful place get in this condition? But John already knew the answer to his question. The economy and bad management.


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