Ivan took a sip of his beer. “She’s about five foot three inches tall, has bright, expressive brown eyes, dark hair with highlights that she wears spiked and beautiful mocha skin. She has a beauty mole above her right collarbone, and when she smiles...her whole face lights up. She’s left-handed, sure of herself and wears a floral fragrance that reminds me of the ocean. It suits her.”
Cole tried not to laugh. “Did you miss anything?”
“In my line of work, it’s imperative to assess problems quickly—and people.”
“I don’t doubt it. She sounds like a beautiful woman.”
Ivan didn’t like where the conversation was going one bit. “Don’t even think about it, baby brother.”
“No reason why both of us should miss out,” Cole reasoned.
Before Ivan could open his mouth, Cole burst into laughter.
“Dude, I’m kidding. Don’t get worked up.”
Ivan’s eyebrow shot upward. “You haven’t seen me worked up.”
Cole sat back and put his feet up. “I’m sure that’s true, Colonel Mangum.”
An hour of dinner and television later, Ivan stood up. “I’ve got some work to do.”
Cole glanced at him. “Go ahead, I’ll clean up.”
Ivan thanked him and headed upstairs. He retrieved his laptop and sat down on the couch in his sitting area. He placed his feet on an old leather trunk and got to work on Tiffany’s proposal.
But twenty minutes later, he found himself leaning back, closing his eyes and recalling his initial meeting with Tiffany. Her playful manner and humor were refreshing. In his line of work, a personal life was challenging. Working in the private sector was no different. Ivan’s company and his time centered on his clients. Some of his men and women traveled to dangerous locations with dignitaries, business professionals and wealthy notables.
Even when he wasn’t on assignment, Ivan was involved in each case to ensure the safety of his employees and customers. The hours were long and the job physically demanding, but he was proud of his accomplishments and thriving business. He excelled at it, and loved every minute.
A knock sounded at his bedroom door, and Cole entered.
“Mom called. She asked how the renovations were going, and if we were eating.”
Ivan shook his head and smiled. His mother was a worrier. It had been eight months since he’d moved back to his family’s home in the Beverly neighborhood of Chicago. With work keeping him busy, he had taken his parents, Lennox and Maris, up on their offer to move back home and make Chicago his hub. Since they now spent the winter months in St. John, that gave him and Cole time to reconnect. So far they were making the most of their temporary bachelor pad.
“Did you tell her that you haven’t cooked since they left?”
“Ha. I told her we’re doing well, and the guest bathroom is coming along. She wants us to send some pics.”
Thanks to their father, Ivan and Cole were pretty handy carpenters. While their parents were gone, the brothers had decided to upgrade the first-floor bathroom. The remodel, his business and checking on their grandmother, Cecile Mangum, kept him busy. GiGi, as he and Cole called her, lived in an assisted-living facility in nearby Evanston. As the oldest, it was his duty to keep his feisty grandmother and Cole out of trouble while his parents were gone. It was a full-time job.
Cole sat down and propped up his feet on Ivan’s trunk. “Did you finish your proposal?”
“Not yet. I got...sidetracked.”
“What’s the cause of your preoccupation—or who?”
Ivan remained silent.
“Come on, Ivan. I can tell you like her.”
“Sure I do. Tiffany is a likable woman.”
“That’s not what I mean, and you know it. It’s written all over that stern face of yours. You’re attracted to her.”
“I’ve got work to do, Cole,” Ivan said.
Cole stood up. “Fine. I guess I’ll let you get back to it, then.”
“Good. I’ll see you later.”
After his brother left, Ivan resumed working. He was diligent for a while, but his attention kept straying to Tiffany. She was unlike any woman he knew. Her sense of humor made him smile, and her beauty and spirit appealed to him.
But Cole’s reference to Munich was a somber reminder not to get involved with clients. The Munich incident had involved a friend of a client. When it was time for him to leave, she had not taken the news well. That had caused animosity from his client, and Ivan had vowed to keep things strictly professional after that.
Standing up suddenly, Ivan decided to go for a run. Physical exertion would get Tiffany Gentry off his mind—and if it didn’t, he was in trouble.
Big trouble.
Chapter 3
The party was at MG restaurant in a private dining room on the second floor. It was sophisticated and quiet, with perfect views of the Magnificent Mile. It was a fitting backdrop to celebrate her best friend’s first wedding anniversary. Tiffany set her gift on a beautifully decorated table, then walked over to hug Adrian’s mother.
“How are you, Ms. Jeannie? The room is amazing.”
Norma Jean Anderson beamed with pride. “Honey, they’ve outdone themselves,” she replied, hooking her arm through Tiffany’s. “I couldn’t be more pleased. This is the first restaurant they dined at after returning from their honeymoon. I thought it a fitting place for the newlyweds to celebrate their first year together.”
“I agree. You look beautiful, too.”
Norma Jean’s silver cowl-necked gown shimmered on her slender body and complemented her honey-toned complexion. Her gray hair was cut short in a style that suited her no-nonsense personality and classic elegance.
“Thank you, dear. You look divine in that dress of yours. Good thing there’ll be plenty of single men at this party like I promised.” Norma Jean nudged Tiffany.
“About that, Ms. Jeannie,” Tiffany began.
“Speaking of single men, did you call Colonel Mangum?”
“I did,” Tiffany replied. “He came out to the shop today and looked around.”
“He did?” Norma Jean replied. “And?”
“And he said he’d give me a quote in a few days.”
Norma Jean leaned closer to Tiffany. “Ivan is such a sweet man. Why he’s still single is anyone’s guess.”
Tiffany ignored that remark. Luckily Heathcliffe Anderson came up behind his wife just then. He greeted Tiffany and placed an arm around Norma Jean.
Norma Jean kissed Tiffany’s cheek and then turned to her husband. “Cliff, don’t just stand there, go alert the photographer that Adrian and Milán are here while I get the group in position.”
Her husband shook his head and leaned down and whispered conspiratorially in Tiffany’s ear, “Jeannie told me I didn’t have to do any work for this shindig, but we see how that turned out.” With a wink, he headed off to complete his assignment.
Tiffany hoped that when she got to be Ms. Jeannie’s age, she and her husband would tease each other like that. If she were married, that is. Up to this point, not one marriage in her family could be considered a testament to happily-ever-after. Her parents had divorced when she was fifteen,