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  CHAPTER THREE

  The following Thursday, Angelina was halfway up the path to Will's front door when he came around the side yard and called out her name. He saw surprise flash across her pretty face a split-second before she tripped on the edge of a brick that was sticking up a half-inch too high.

  Will flew across the lawn as quickly as he could and caught her, glad for the excuse to find out what it felt like to hold her.

  It felt good.

  Really good.

  Angelina pulled away to stand on her own two feet. “Thanks for catching me. I’m not usually this clumsy.”

  Will had to fight the urge to pull her close to him again. Frankly, he was still more than a little perplexed by his attraction to a woman who was the polar opposite of his usual Barbie dolls.

  Angelina asked, “Are you ready to get started?” snapping Will out of his fog.

  “Sure.”

  They went inside and she said, “Why don’t you take me through your house and tell me what you like and don’t like about each room. Let’s start with your Foyer. How do you feel about it?”

  The first totally inappropriate thought that popped into his head was, “I love it when you’re in it,” but he settled for, “It’s OK, I guess.”

  Scanning the room, Angelina moved to stand in front of a painting. “Does this make you happy?”

  The truth was, Will couldn’t have cared less if the painting made him happy. But when he really looked at it for the first time, he saw that the artist had used acrylic on canvas to depict a sad man who stood in the middle of a wet, deserted street.

  The painting sucked.

  “I don't like it.”

  “Why don’t you like it?”

  “It’s depressing and besides, even I could do a better job than...” Realizing he was saying too much, Will cut himself off.

  Angelina pinned him with a questioning look.

  Inwardly cursing himself for divulging any information at all about his personal life, Will said,

  “Seems like anyone could do a better job than this artist did.”

  “Feng Shui is all about living with what you love. When we get rid of the things that bring us down and replace them with things that make us happy, we open ourselves up for good things to happen in our lives.” Grinning, she added, “Don’t be surprised if taking this painting down gets you the woman of your dreams.”

  “If that’s the case,” Will said as he reached for the painting, “let’s get this pathetic loser off of my walls ASAP.”

  Angelina could barely keep from laughing as she helped Will lift the heavy frame. Men were so predictable.

  Will surveyed the new look of his foyer. “It looks better already.”

  Angelina was pleased that she could finally grace him with a genuine smile, and right then and there she decided she was going to maintain a nice, agreeable banter with him throughout the rest of the consultation. No matter what.

  Getting back to business, Angelina did a quick scan of the kitchen/family room. “You’ve got an awful lot of the fire element in here.”

  “The fire element?”

  “There are five elements: fire, water, metal, earth, and wood. The fire element is in your red rug, your fireplace, and your electronics.”

  “And that's bad?”

  “Well, not bad, exactly. Just not balanced.”

  “Maybe I should just take all of this to the dump and start over.”

  Angelina was surprised by her own chuckle. She'd barely replied with, “Not unless you hate everything in here,” when she made the mistake of looking into his incredible blue eyes.

  Her mouth went completely dry. Again.

  Oh god, what was she doing? She knew better than to look at a wealthy, good looking man like Will Scott with stars in her eyes. She was a twenty-six year old woman who had never gotten over her broken heart or her deep sense of shame from being so easily used.

  And Will definitely had heartbreak written all over him.

  * * *

  Will was enjoying watching the play of emotions run across Angelina’s expressive face, when she abruptly turned away from him and began to study his living room with renewed zeal.

  She pointed to a watercolor hanging in a dimly lit corner of his living room. “Will, this is an incredible ocean-scape. It would be the perfect water element to hang over your fireplace.”

  Will was tempted to tell her he had painted it in college. What would it be like, he wondered, to have Angelina’s eyes light up with admiration? But he squashed the thought as quickly as it came. He was CEO of a Fortune 500 company, and if anyone found out he painted, he’d become a laughingstock.

  She reached into her briefcase and pulled out a sheet of paper. “This should help with explaining some of the how’s and why’s of what I do. It's called a Feng Shui map.”

  Will scanned the page. “For some reason these charts remind me of computer programming.”

  It also reminded him of what it was like to balance out all of the colors on a canvas.

  Disturbed that he was thinking about painting again for the first time in years, he pushed his fruitless thoughts back into the recesses of his mind, where they belonged.

  “Are you a programmer?”

  Will was stunned. “You don’t know what I do for a living?”

  “We didn't exactly have time for you to tell me the first time we met, did we?”

  More than a little surprised that she didn't know who he was, he said, “Again, I apologize for that.”

  Giving him a small smile that made his heart beat a little faster, she said, “So, you don't program computers?”

  Feeling relieved, thinking that maybe for once he wouldn’t have to be on guard against another woman who only wanted to be with him for the notoriety of dating one of America’s richest, most eligible bachelors, he leaned back against the kitchen counter, perfectly happy to let her think he was just an average rich guy.

  “When I was first out of college, I used to program. But I haven’t done any serious coding in years.” He looked pensive and admitted, “Lately I’ve been missing the old days.”

  “Why?”

  “I used to solve puzzles and create things. Now, I spend all day dealing with problems.”

  His inner voice taunted him. Hey, buddy, it’s pretty hard to be wealthy enough to buy a small island, isn’t it? Boo hoo for you.

  He didn’t know why he was telling Angelina any of this. Usually, he was either focused on expansion and profits, or occasionally hanging out with his business school buddies talking sports.

  Even with his ex-wife he had maintained an emotional distance.

  Giving Angelina a sheepish look, he said, “I don’t mean to be standing here complaining. Not when I have,” he gestured to his home, “all this.”

  “The Western spin on Feng Shui tends to be all about making more money, but it’s really about finding a place where your heart can be happy and at peace.” Looking charmingly self-conscious, she added, “I have a tendency to get on a soap box from time to time.”

  “No worries. I don’t see any suds on the floor.”

  Angelina gave Will a crooked half-smile that knocked his socks off.

  “How about you show me your home office next?”

  As Angelina followed Will out of the living room, she tried to reconcile his admission about missing computer programming with her initial picture of him as a spoiled rich boy.

  Get a grip, Angelina, she repeated over and over in her head, training her eyes on the oak flooring instead of the temptation before her.

  Caught up in controlling her raging hormones, Angelina plowed into him, hugging him like a spoon, her front to his back, her arms wrapped around his rippling six-pack. And then he turned around in her arms and his mouth was mere inches from hers.

  She was about to meet him half-way when her inner voice cried, Stop throwing yourself at your client!

  Just go away, she told it, but steadfast in its purpose, her in
ner voice of no fun turned up another notch.

  Don't forget, his ex-wife wants him back!

  It was a supreme effort to pull away. Trying to put some distance between them, she stumbled into the foyer’s stair rail.

  No longer seared with the heat of Will’s body, Angelina quickly cooled down.

  Will looked just as stunned as she felt.

  On one level, she wished that she could leap back into his arms, but she knew it was impossible under the helm of their client-consultation relationship.

  Clearly, there was only one way for either of them to proceed: They both needed to act as if the almost-kiss never happened.

  “My office is right around the corner,” Will said in a slightly husky voice before disappearing into a room to his right.

  His telephone had been ringing constantly since her arrival, but true to his word, he had ignored it. Until now. But when she walked into his office, she was so shocked by the utter chaos of the room, she temporarily forgot about her no-phone-calls rule.

  It was one of the messiest rooms she had ever seen.

  She quickly figured out that, according to Feng Shui, Will’s just-been-hit-by-a-cyclone office sat smack dab in the Reputation area of his house. Odds were he was having trouble getting respect from customers and staff alike. The snippets of conversation that she overheard as she carefully picked her way through the piles of papers and boxes confirmed her suspicions.

  Will bit off into the phone, “I’m only going to say this one more time. We are going forward with our plans. I don’t care what Albert is telling the board about competitive repercussions.”

  Hanging up, he turned to face Angelina. “Welcome to my office,” he said grimly.

  In her line of business, there were times to be gentle and times for tough-love.

  This was tough-love all the way.

  She gestured to the papers and boxes stuffed and scattered throughout the large room.”It must be hard to work well surrounded by so much clutter.”

  He slumped into a leather chair. “Even my executive assistant refused to come help clean it up.”

  “I don't blame her,” Angelina said, surprised to see the powerful executive suddenly look so lost and forlorn.

  “Let’s talk about clutter.”

  Will grimaced. “Haven’t we already gone over that? My office is a dump.”

  Angelina leaned in closer, as if she was about to divulge an important secret. Will found that he was leaning towards her in anticipation.

  “In Feng Shui there is no place to hide. You can’t clear one area of your life by stuffing everything into another area.”

  “You’re losing me.”

  “Pretend you took all of this stuff and moved it into your garage.”

  “Why didn’t I think of that?”

  Angelina gave Will a mock frown. “All that does is move the congestion to your garage. It blocks the flow of your energy in your life no matter where it is.”

  “But I need everything in here.”

  Angelina nodded. “Maybe. But then, maybe not. Tell me, when’s the last time you went through every single book and paper and file and asked yourself, Do I really need this?”

  “You can’t be serious.”

  Angelina stared at him, unblinking. “I am. When was the last time?”

  “Never. Who has the time for that?”

  “Actually, it can be kind of fun.”

  Will laughed out loud at that.

  Angelina protested, “I’m serious!” but a smile was stealing across her face. “Well, maybe fun is overstating it, but there can be amazing benefits to putting the work in.”

  “Name one.”

  “Easy. Once you get rid of everything you don’t need or love, you will have finally made room for all of the good things you do want.”

  He looked around the room contemplatively. Now that she had pointed it out, he couldn’t escape the heavy sense of chaos that pervaded his office.

  “Hmm. What you’re saying is actually making sense.”

  Angelina grinned. “I’m so glad to hear you say that.” She tried to move one of his boxes with her foot, but it was so heavy it hardly budged. “What have you got in here? Your rock collection?”

  “Open it up.”

  Cautiously, Angelina peeled back the top of the box and grabbed a heavy rectangular green slab of metal, chock full of silver wires. “What’s this?”

  “It’s a test interface board. I used to design them.” He walked over and picked one up. “I haven’t seen one up close in a long time.” Years fell away as Will reverently ran his fingers over the board.

  At twenty-one he had dutifully plunged into engineering, giving up his far fetched dream of being a painter. Designing circuitry was never as powerful a satisfaction as creating art, but at least he made good money.

  “I can’t believe you even know what one of these things does, let alone designed it. I do have one question for you, though.”

  “Ask away.” Will hoped that he could impress her again.

  “Do you really need so many of them?” Angelina peered into the box. “There are probably twenty in here.”

  So much for impressing her with his profound knowledge of circuitry.

  “In any case, before I go I should tell you that your cluttered office sits smack dab in your Reputation area. It’s probably affecting your relationships with your staff and customers.”

  “How the heck do you know about the problems I’ve been having with my company? Did Susan tell you?”

  Angelina looked surprised by his outburst. “No, we didn’t speak about your work at all.”

  “Are you psychic or something?”

  “Trust me, I’m not the least bit psychic.”

  He could see her scanning the room for a semi-clear pathway so she could escape.

  “So, how about you give me a call in about a month and I’ll come back to see how things are going?”

  “A month?” He couldn’t go a whole month without seeing her. “I don't think a month will work.”

  “I could give you two if that would be easier to fit into your schedule.” Angelina pulled her organizer out of her briefcase to write down the appointment.

  “What I’m trying to say is that I’d like to take you out. On a date.”

  “A date?” She looked horrified.

  “Yes, Angelina. A date.”

  “No thank you.”

  The words were barely out of her mouth before she fled the room, ran down his hall, out of his front door, and drove away.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  “So we almost kissed in his foyer. Big deal.”

  Angelina's friend Krista plopped her full coffee cup back into the saucer. “Big deal? You show up at this guy’s house to do a consultation and he almost starts making out with you. That is definitely a big deal.” Krista raised an eyebrow and gave Angelina a knowing look. “You wish he had, don't you?”

  Angelina shook her head, saying “No” even as the word “Yes” galloped across her brain.

  “Liar.”

  Angelina sipped her mint tea, affectionately watching Krista over the rim of her cup. They had been best friends for ten years, two totally different women who perfectly complimented each other.

  “Besides, it doesn’t matter, because I’m not going out with him.”

  Krista clanked her cup down again. “Go out with him? Are you saying he asked you out? I swear you always leave the good stuff out of your stories.” She frowned. “So, why aren't you going?

  He's cute, right?”

  Cute didn't even begin to cover it, Angelina thought as she said, “Yes, but he's my client. I don't date clients.”

  Krista waved her hand in the air as if that reason were completely irrelevant. “What exactly did you say when he asked you out?”

  Angelina grimaced at the memory. “I said no thank you.”

  And then she'd run.

  Krista rolled her eyes. “I can’t believe it. A hot guy, who I’m assum
ing probably has a good job and a nice house, asks you out and you act like he just offered you a refill.”

  Angelina defended herself. “It seemed like the right thing to do at the time.” Plus, she'd been freaking out. Big time.

  “I’m not gonna let you off the hook this time. You need someone to tell it to you like it is, whether you want to hear it or not. First rule of Romance: When a gorgeous, eligible guy asks you out, the answer is ‘Yes,’ not ‘No thank you.’”

  Angelina opened her mouth to protest.

  “No buts,” Krista said firmly. Still, she softened her tone as she reached out to take Angelina’s hand. “I’m just telling you this because you’re my best friend in the whole world and I want you to be happy.”

  “I know that. It’s just...”

  She wished she could read her fortune in the tea leaves in the bottom of her cup.

  “I know change is good, but remember what a fool I made of myself when I was twenty-one?”

  “Of course I remember. I was mopping up your tears for months. But it’s been years since that jerk used you. If you ask me, you’ve completely forgotten how to have fun, Ang.”

  “I’m too busy to have fun.”

  “Exactly my point, honey. Look at me, I work sixty hours a week on billion dollar cases, but I know how to have fun.”

  Angelina retorted, “Sleeping around indiscriminately isn’t my idea of fun.”

  “Look, one night of sex is no big deal. And it’ll even fit into your schedule,” Krista added with a grin. “Your hunky client sounds like the perfect guy to break you out of your rut.”

  “No way.”

  “Okay then, how about at least kissing him?”

  Angelina felt herself flush at the thought of kissing Will. “I don't-”

  Krista cut her off. “Give me one good reason why not.”

  Angelina lowered her voice. “First of all, his ex-wife hired me to get him back.”

  “Oh,” Krista murmured, obviously titillated by the new bit of information.

  “Second, as I said before, I don't mix business with pleasure.”

  “You never know. It could be fun.”

  “And third, CEO’s are not my type.”