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Chapter 2

Daniel eased his red Ferrari up to the valet station outside a fifty-five-story tower in Brickell, Miami’s financial district, the following day.

A valet greeted him, relieving him of his keys, and Daniel strode inside the formidable tower to the elevator and pressed the button for the top floor, where he was set to attend the monthly meeting for Prescott George.

Seven years ago, he’d been invited to join the illustrious men’s club by the president, Ashton Rollins. In the seventy-five-year history of the organization, no one actually called it Prescott George. They all referred to it as the Millionaire Moguls Club. Why? Because anyone who was anyone knew that the discreet and powerful club only invited old money and a handful of the nouveau riche to join them. That’s not to say the Millionaire Moguls didn’t give back.

Their motto was From Generation to Generation, Lifting Each Other Up. The club regularly gave college scholarships to needy students and funding to inner-city organizations. It’s why Daniel was here today. They were settling on the charity organization that would be the beneficiary of Prescott George’s upcoming annual fund-raising gala.

As he stood in the elevator, Daniel was sure there were going to be fireworks in today’s meeting between Joshua DeLong, the charity outreach and public relations chair, and Ashton. The two men were like oil and water; they didn’t mix. They had numerous differences, not the least of which was the source of their fortunes, and in that regard Daniel compared himself, as well. Ashton was a rich kid who’d been born into money, unlike Daniel, who’d earned his, and Joshua, who, rumor had it, had stolen his fortune. As a corporate raider, Joshua had a way of taking what he wanted, regardless of if it was from the misfortune of others. Still, he was a likable guy with loads of charisma.

And then there was Ashton.

Daniel wasn’t Ashton’s biggest fan, either, but his animosity went deeper, much deeper, and further back into their shared history.

The ding of the elevator indicated they’d reached the top level and Daniel exited. The doors opened into an old boys’ club. Or at least that’s how Daniel saw it. The wood-paneled walls and leather furniture were certainly of a bygone era and could use some updating. Daniel’s mission was to change that.

A beautifully stunning chocolate sister was at the mahogany receptionist desk and greeted him. “Good afternoon, Mr. Cobb. The meeting hasn’t yet convened in the conference room.” She nodded her head toward the corridor where the rest of the club was gathered.

“Thank you, Tiffany.”

“Can I get you anything to drink? A scotch, perhaps?”

Daniel never drank during the day. He liked to keep a cool head. “No, thank you.” As he strode down the corridor to the conference room, he noted the prominent portraits of George Rollins and Prescott Owens, the club founders, that lined the walls. Daniel was certain that was one of the reasons Joshua disliked Ashton—because he hadn’t earned his title of president. He’d inherited it from his grandfather George and his father, Alexander Rollins.

According to the history books, only a member of the Rollins or Owens families had ever served as its leader. And the old-timers were committed to keeping things that way. But Daniel and Joshua were new-school, nouveau riche and ready to bring the Millionaire Moguls into the twenty-first century.

And the Millionaire Moguls Club would do so kicking and screaming.

Daniel arrived at the conference room to find nearly everyone there. Ashton was at the head of the long rectangular table, and Joshua flanked him on his left, refusing to budge. Daniel smiled. He was sure Ashton would love some breathing room from his nemesis. Daniel took a seat, flanking Ashton to his right.

Comparatively, Ashton and Joshua couldn’t look any more different. Ashton appeared every bit the preppy in his Ralph Lauren suit and classic striped tie, while Joshua wore a navy blazer over a white T-shirt and dark jeans. Daniel knew Ashton hated when members didn’t look the part, and he suspected Joshua dressed intentionally to get under Ashton’s skin.

Ashton used his gavel to bring the meeting to order. Surprisingly, it went much smoother than Daniel had expected. They discussed old business, one item of which was Daniel’s. As chair for the anniversary gala it was his job to ensure that finances were in order for the event. Then there was new business. For once, the board members were all in agreement that this year’s beneficiary would be The Aunt Penny Foundation, especially after Joshua’s compelling pitch on its behalf.

And on cue, Joshua couldn’t resist ruffling feathers before the meeting concluded. “I think we should give some thought as to how we capitalize on this for the club—you know, get a little name recognition.”

“Of course you would want to capitalize on another person’s misfortune,” Ashton replied.

Joshua glared at him sideways with those piercing blue eyes. Daniel suspected that with his curly fro, Joshua was of mixed race, but had never asked. “Perhaps capitalizing was the wrong word choice. But we need to take advantage of the positive press this could bring the Millionaire Moguls.”

Ashton pointed his finger at him. “First off, we’re called Prescott George,” he responded. “Second, we keep our charity activities private. We don’t give so we can get recognized for it.”

“I agree with Ashton,” another board member concurred. He was well into his fifties and of the old regime, who were staunchly against change. “We don’t give to get praised.”

“I’m with Ashton,” another member said. “It seems awfully disingenuous.”

Daniel rolled his eyes. Of course they all agreed, because no one wanted to go up against a Rollins. The Rollins family was well-established not only in their organization, but in the community. They were a Miami institution.

“Even if our efforts could help bring more donations to The Aunt Penny Foundation?” Joshua inquired. “Wouldn’t it be worth it?”

“Let’s table this discussion for another time,” Ashton said, effectively ending any further conversation on the matter. Because that’s what Ashton did. He was used to getting his way, as his father and his father’s father before him.

Daniel was tired of it, and as he glanced at Joshua, he recognized that he was, too. It was just a matter of time before the tensions between the two warring factions of old-timers and new blood came to a head.

* * *

Later that afternoon, Angela waited for Daniel’s return from his monthly meeting. She’d heard he was a member of the illustrious Millionaire Moguls, and she wasn’t surprised. According to Miami magazine, his net worth was upward of ten million, and with his flashy digs in Key Biscayne and his sporty Ferrari, she was sure he fit right in with the rich men of Miami.

She wanted to be just like him. And didn’t they say that imitation was the sincerest form of flattery? She didn’t need to be quite as flashy as Daniel, but she certainly wanted the freedom that came with being independently wealthy. And if she played her cards right, rubbing shoulders with Daniel Cobb just might do it for her.

As if his ears were burning, Daniel strode into the office with equal parts style and arrogance. She watched him check in with Myrna before glancing in her direction. He walked toward her desk purposefully.

“Did you have time to read the prospectus?”

“Yes—” She didn’t get another word in because he cut her off.

“Let’s go. We’re meeting the developer in thirty minutes, and with Miami traffic it’s going to be close.”

Angela quickly glanced around for her portfolio and purse, flustered as Daniel stared down at his Piaget watch, looking annoyed with her fumbling.

“Ticktock, Angela.”

Finding her portfolio underneath a pile of papers, she quickly grabbed it, tossed her purse over her shoulder and followed him out of the office. She gave Myrna a quick wave as they exited.

“Not much notice,” Angela replied.

Daniel turned to give her a sideward glance. “If you’re expecting our wealthy, overly indulged clients to care one iota about your time, then you’re in the wrong business.”

The elevator chimed, signaling its arrival. The cab was crowded, but with no time to spare they stepped inside. There was hardly any room so Angela’s backside was pressed against the hard wall of Daniel’s body. She was extremely uncomfortable with the close proximity and hated that the arresting scent of his cologne filled her senses.

Why did the man have to smell so good?

When one of the occupants from the rear came forward to get off at a lower floor, jostling her, Daniel’s muscled arm instantly reached out and circled her middle, preventing her from falling. Angela’s breath hitched in her throat at the contact. It was a shock to have Daniel’s hands anywhere on her body. When she righted herself, she glanced behind her.

“Th-thank you.”

He grinned as if he knew the devastating effect he had on women, including her. “You’re welcome.”

Angela was thankful when they arrived at the VIP level of the building’s garage and disembarked without incident. She followed Daniel to his Ferrari. It was gleaming and shiny and looked like just the kind of toy a playboy like Daniel would drive.

“Buckle up. We need to get to our destination in a hurry,” Daniel said as she tried to get into the low-slung car as femininely as possible.

Seconds later, all Angela heard was the screeching of the tires as he sped out of the parking space and zoomed out of the garage.

They arrived at their appointment with minutes to spare. Daniel quickly exited the car, then came around to open her car door and offer her a hand.

She slid hers inside his and noted how warm his hands felt. Would they feel that way on my body? Yikes, when had she gone down this path of thinking of Daniel as a man instead of her boss? Myrna. She was going to have to stop listening to the blonde’s flights of fancy.

They walked side by side into the building, but again Daniel was ever the gentleman, opening the glass door for her. He led her to the sales office that was next to the entrance. It was light and airy with lots of natural sunlight and bright colors, and it held a scale model of what the building and amenities would look like, including a rooftop deck, a fitness center with a sauna and even a Starbucks.

“Daniel! There you are.” A dark-haired Latino man rushed toward him. Similar to Daniel, he was stylishly dressed in a designer suit, and it was clear he had a good barber, because there wasn’t a hair out of place.

“Eduardo.” Daniel extended his hand. “Good to see you.”

Eduardo eyed Angela at his side. “And who did you bring with you? A buyer perhaps for my amazing condo?”

Angela smiled. She was glad she was wearing Dolce & Gabbana today and looked like she could afford to buy a place like this.

Daniel gave her a cursory glance. “Afraid not. Eduardo Torres, meet Angela Trainor, one of my agents I’m mentoring. Angela will be working with me on this project.”

Eduardo gave him a grin. “I can see why.” He eyed Angela from her stilettos to her face. “Eye candy will be good for business.”

Angela opened her mouth to tell Mr. Eduardo Torres a thing or two, but Daniel shook his head.

“Come, let’s talk.” Daniel placed his massive hand on Eduardo’s narrow shoulders and started walking toward the table that had the model of the building.

Angela had no choice but to follow behind them. She didn’t like how Eduardo made her feel, as if she were irrelevant and only there for show. She was a darn good real estate agent and getting better every day. She would have to assert herself so he saw her as something other than a pretty face.

“When are you going to have the marketing campaign ready?” Eduardo inquired. “It’s important that the project make a splash on the market and we maybe get some offers at the launch party.”

“Relax, Eduardo,” Daniel said in a soft tone to calm the highly charged man. “This isn’t my first rodeo.” He used Angela’s turn of phrase from earlier. “I’ve steered several projects toward full occupancy before the buildings were built.”

“But none of this size,” Eduardo responded quickly. “This building will have eighty units. That’s a lot to sell in eighteen months.”

“And I—correction, we—” Daniel glanced over at Angela and despite herself, her heart fluttered in her chest “—will sell out these units. You’ve come to the right firm, Eduardo. You just have to give us time to come up with the right plan to market to these hip millennials. Trust me, we’ll have this place filled in no time.”

After Eduardo departed, leaving them alone in the sales office, Daniel turned to her. “This project is a big deal for Cobb Luxury Real Estate.”

“And you’re going to do great,” Angela commented. “I mean, we’re going to do great.”

“You say that like you mean it.”

Angela’s brow furrowed. “I do mean it. I came here because of your reputation. Everyone’s talking about you, Daniel. They know you have your pulse on the real estate market in South Florida. Everyone wants to emulate you, be you.”

Daniel stood back and regarded her. “Including you?”

Angela locked eyes with his. “Of course. I would imagine you get a thrill out of having all of us lowly peons looking up to the great Daniel Cobb for advice and guidance.”

Daniel chuckled. “It’s not always easy being at the top. There’s a long fall to the bottom.”

“Ah, but you’re one of the Millionaire Moguls,” Angela responded. “With their backing behind you, I’m sure the members alone could buy up this place in a heartbeat.”

“So you’ve heard of us?” There was a smile in his voice.

“Who in Miami hasn’t? You’re synonymous with wealth and tradition.”

Daniel pointed his finger. “See, that’s the image I no longer want for the organization. It’s time to bring them forward to the new millennium.”

“And you’re just the man to do that?”

“One of them,” Daniel said. “Speaking of the Millionaire Moguls, I’d like you to join me for a dinner we’re having on Friday night.”

Angela cleared her throat. Had she heard him correctly? Was he asking her out? “Join you?”

“Yes,” Daniel replied, “I think it would be great for you to meet some of the influential members of the organization. Could be potential clients for you. What do you say?”

There was no way she was turning down an invitation to rub elbows with the rich and famous. She gave him her most dazzling smile. “Count me in.”

* * *

Why in the hell had he just asked Angela to join him at the Millionaire Moguls monthly dinner? It was usually reserved for members and their spouses or significant others, of which Angela was neither. Yet there was something about her that Daniel liked. She was smart and confident and spoke her mind. He liked that in a woman. Not to mention the fact that she was hot as hell.

Of course, he had no intention of going there with Angela. He was just curious to learn more about her. It had been a while since a woman had piqued his interest. Made him want to see what was under the hood rather than just admiring the package. And Lord knew, Angela was one helluva package.

Take today for instance. She’d shown poise and professionalism when Eduardo treated her disrespectfully by speaking solely to Daniel even though he’d told the Cuban that Angela would work on the project with him. Instead of reacting, she’d quietly stood by and when the moment was right, she’d interjected herself into the conversation with pointed information on the Miami market. Slowly, he’d seen Eduardo warm up to the notion that this beautiful woman had a head on her shoulders.

He, too, had admired the authority with which she spoke. It’s why he’d uncharacteristically asked out an employee, something he never did. But she didn’t need to know that. All she would think was that he was her mentor and showing her the ropes.

“Excellent,” Daniel commented on her acceptance of his offer. “I’ll swing by and pick you up at your place.”

“Oh, that’s not necessary. I’ll just meet you at the office.”

He frowned. Even though she was his employee, he always liked to escort his women home. “Are you sure?”

“Absolutely.” Angela smiled at him.

* * *

Once Angela made it to her apartment in Coconut Grove that evening, she kicked off her shoes at the door and plopped herself on the microsuede sofa. It had been a long day, made even longer by the fact that she’d been wearing four-inch heels. Lying back, Angela rubbed her aching feet and thought about her day.

She was thrilled that Daniel had finally taken her under his wing to assist him with selling this new development. She’d been waiting for the opportunity when she could show him that he hadn’t made a mistake in hiring her.

What she hadn’t been expecting was Daniel to ask her out. Oh sure, he disguised it as a business dinner, saying she was merely joining him at an event for an organization he was active in and it would broaden her contacts. But from all angles that she could see, it was a date. She would be his companion for the evening, when she was sure other men would be bringing their spouses or partners.

Should she be concerned that they were mixing work and pleasure? Angela didn’t think so, nor did she care. She wanted the chance to meet other affluent men and their wives who might need a real estate agent. If she played her cards right, the business that might come her way would be worth the time spent with Daniel.

Not that it would be a hardship to be his date for the evening. Daniel was a fine specimen. He was the type of man a woman could easily get addicted to if she let herself. But romance wasn’t on Angela’s agenda. Or so she told herself. She needed to wow. To impress.

Rising from the sofa, she knew just the outfit she’d wear.

It was a sleek one-shoulder black cocktail dress with a crossover skirt 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.