Miami After Hours. Yahrah St. John

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Miami After Hours - Yahrah St. John


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that gave a hint of side slit without being too revealing. She would pair it with some classic peep-toe black pumps and wear her hair in a loose chignon. She would be stylish and sophisticated and would fit in with the other women come Friday night.

       Chapter 3

      On Friday evening, Daniel ventured upstairs to his office, opting to check a few emails while he waited for Angela. Although he liked to play hard and made time for extracurricular activities, he was a notorious workaholic. Plus, he was trying his best to not think of tonight as a date.

      But as soon as he glanced up and saw Angela standing in the doorway, he knew he’d made a grave miscalculation. He was transfixed, staring at her with open admiration.

      Tall and sleek, Angela looked radiant. Slightly tousled hair. Flawless skin with just a touch of blush. Warm brown eyes. Perfectly arched eyebrows. She was a vision in a black dress with one silky shoulder exposed to his view, along with a long expanse of leg that led to spiky heeled sandals.

      He swallowed. “You clean up nice,” he managed to say, trying to find his footing in the situation.

      Her brow furrowed. “Uh, thanks.”

      Had she been expecting a different reaction? If he wasn’t her employer, he would have responded differently, but tonight he had to remember his hands-off policy when it came to employees.

      But Angela was going to make that policy hard to follow.

      He rose from his chair. “Ready to go?”

      She motioned him forward. “Lead the way.”

      Daniel walked toward her, and when he did he caught a hint of raspberry and...was that vanilla? The scent was fun and flirty and he couldn’t resist smiling. Or appreciating all her curves now that he was mere inches away from her.

      “You look pretty good yourself,” she commented.

      “Uh, thanks,” he said, mimicking her earlier response. He offered her his arm, which Angela accepted, and they headed for the elevator. He’d arranged for a driver to take them to the restaurant.

      During the ride over, he hazarded a glance in Angela’s direction and caught sight of several inches of thigh, thanks to the way she’d positioned herself in the vehicle. He immediately turned his attention to the window to stare outside, reprimanding himself for looking at Angela like a beautiful woman.

      Blessedly, the ride from Cobb’s offices to the restaurant was quick. Daniel didn’t have to worry what would happen if he touched her, because the valet was there to help her out of the car. He was thankful because despite the fact that they’d maintained a polite conversation on the ride, he found himself on edge. Daniel exited and joined Angela, leading her toward the private rooms the Millionaire Moguls had procured for the evening.

      “Daniel.” Tyson Williams, another member, caught them outside the dining room. “And who is this lovely lady you’ve brought with you this evening?”

      Before he could answer, Angela offered her hand. “Angela, Angela Trainor,” she responded. “Daniel and I work together at Cobb Luxury Real Estate.” She glanced at Daniel, giving him an arresting smile that was like a punch in his gut. Why was he having such a visceral physical response to this woman?

      “Really, Cobb? You couldn’t find a date, so you asked out one of your own people?”

      Daniel snorted. “Watch it, Tyson. Otherwise, I’ll beat you in another game of racquetball and have you wishing I’d shown you mercy.”

      Tyson pointed at Daniel. “See this guy?” he asked Angela. “If I were you I’d be careful.”

      * * *

      Angela was well aware that she had to be extremely careful around Daniel, because he looked downright dangerous tonight. The man was every bit as dangerously sleek as a powerful panther.

      When she’d arrived at the office to meet him earlier, she hadn’t been surprised to find him hunched over his computer tapping away at the keys. She had, however, been surprised at how attractive she’d found him as he’d walked toward her. His movements might have been smooth and relaxed, but there was an inherent strength and power in Daniel that Angela recognized and responded to.

      She’d sucked in a deep breath when he’d slid past her in the doorway of his office, and all she’d been able to manage was, “You look pretty good yourself.”

      Totally unoriginal.

      But then again, who could blame her? She’d been face-to-face with the man, able to see all his features from his dark eyes to his extremely appealing mouth.

      “Angela.” His smooth voice snagged her attention from her reverie and she looked at him beside her. He motioned her into a room that was already full of people. She estimated at least a dozen tables had been arranged for dinner. Angela instantly recognized several men, including the mayor and a city council member. “Come, I’d like to introduce you around.”

      Daniel introduced her first to Ashton Rollins, the president of Prescott George. Angela wasn’t surprised a Rollins led the organization. They were well established in the community and had been for years. The Rollins estate on Fisher Island was even mentioned in the tour she’d taken when she decided to move here.

      Surprisingly Ashton came alone.

      Angela was shocked that some socialite hadn’t snagged a catch like him. She, however, wasn’t interested. Despite the appeal of his millions, he was a little too stiff for Angela’s taste. He wore a classic suit and silver tie, and didn’t have Daniel’s same pizzazz or style.

      To her delight, Daniel introduced her to the governor and his wife, along with a few other affluent members of the community, before he eventually went off to talk to several of his friends, leaving Angela to fend for herself. She opted for a glass of wine and was standing in line at the open bar when a wife she’d encountered earlier commented from behind her.

      “And how did you manage to land a playboy like Daniel?” the woman inquired.

      Angela spun around. “Excuse me?”

      “Oh, do tell,” the woman gushed. “It can’t have been easy gaining Daniel Cobb’s attention. Several of us—” she motioned to a group of at least half a dozen women who were gathered in a semicircle a short distance away “—have been trying to set him up for years with our girlfriends and have never been successful. What’s your secret?”

      Of course they would assume she was his girlfriend, because that’s who wealthy men brought as their dinner dates to events such as these. But Angela had to clear the air. She didn’t want to be disingenuous. “Daniel and I aren’t dating.”

      The woman touched her chest. “You aren’t?”

      “No, we’re colleagues at his real estate firm.”

      “So you’re single?”

      The way she said it made Angela feel like it was a dirty word among these women.

      “I had no idea,” the woman muttered and quickly rushed off to speak with the other women in the group.

      “Ma’am, what would you like?” the bartender inquired. It was Angela’s turn to order.

      “Chardonnay, please.”

      Angela glanced toward the group of women and several of them were either outright glaring at her or giving her the stink eye. Was it really so horrible that she was single? What did they think she was going to do? Go after one of their husbands?

      She was not interested in being anyone’s side piece. For her, it was all or nothing.

      * * *

      “Who’s the vixen you brought with you?” Joshua DeLong asked Daniel when he finally escaped a torturous conversation with an older member of the organization.


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