Dear Nina,

Tonight when I return, we'll discuss the piece you've chosen for my bedroom in the penthouse. I look forward to seeing what you believe represents the man I am and have faith that your artistic heart lets you see what no one else can.

Love,

Tristan

I'd made my final decision before even returning to the house, so my day was spent in searching for it. After hours of looking through gallery and art retailer sites, I found exactly what I was looking for. It wasn't priceless or even expensive, but I was sure it was right for him. My heart soared at my success. If I could choose a piece so perfect as to show the man he was, I could do the job he was paying me for and do it well.

Tristan returned shortly before five and found me waiting for him in his office. Like any other employee, I was dressed and ready to impress my boss, sure my first assignment would end in a great success.

Dressed in a pale grey suit and sapphire blue shirt, he sat down behind his desk and straightened his tie. I waited for him to begin, barely able to contain my excitement at my finding. As I watched him attend to paperwork, the thought of how his other female employees saw him crept into my mind. A tiny flicker of jealousy sparked at the idea of someone like me sitting across from him studying his dress and mannerisms like I did. Did she love to watch his mouth as he spoke, wishing to feel his lips on her skin? Did she notice his hands, the long fingers and strong grip of the pen as he wrote a note to himself? Did she find how incredible he looked in his clothes as fascinating as I did, desperately wanting to loosen his tie as she ran her lips over his strong neck?

"I'm eager to see what you've chosen, Nina."

"I'm excited to show you. I think it's you to a T, and it fits with the decor of your bedroom there. Would you like to see the picture of it? I have it ready on my laptop."

He nodded and I made my way around his desk to show him. A few clicks and the image of my choice was sitting on the screen.

He studied it for what seemed like hours and then turned to look up at me. I couldn't tell anything by his placid expression, so I waited for him to say something to let me know what he thought. But he wasn't going to make it that easy for me.

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"Tell me why you think this is what I should have taking up that blank spot on my wall in my bedroom. This will be the first thing I see in the morning and the last thing I see at night before I fall asleep, so convince me this is what I should have on my mind at such important times."

I looked down at the picture I'd stared at for an hour before he came home and began. "The frame is a dark wood, but in truth, it could be any frame you prefer and work with what the decor is there. It's the print inside the frame that's perfect. A masculine design with Greek inspired scrollwork, the words 'No legacy is so rich as honesty' speak to everything you've told me about yourself from the first night I met you. You have all the money and wealth you desire, which I'm sure includes the luxuries of fame, others desiring you, and any material possession you could want. Yet you've told me over and over in the short time I've known you that you value my honesty. I have to believe that for all your wealth you don't have people in your life who will give you this one thing you desire."

He waited a long time before he finally spoke. With a smile, he finally said, "Very impressive, Nina. Your talents were sorely underutilized at the Anderson Gallery. That's more than clear. Do you have anything else you'd like to present in your proposal?"

I knew he was trying to unnerve me, but I wasn't going to be shaken. I believed in my choice and stood by it. Shaking my head, I tilted my chin upward slightly. "No. That's all."

That sexy, slow grin I loved spread across his lips. "It's perfect. I knew you'd be wonderful at this. Give Rogers the details tomorrow and he'll see that it finds its way to that blank spot on the wall."

I couldn't help but beam my satisfaction. My first assignment was a smashing success, and even more, I'd shown him that I understood the kind of man he was. In some ways, that meant more to me than his approval of my choice.

"Are you hungry?" he asked as he stood from behind his desk. "I've got a craving for pizza."

"I'm always in the mood for pizza! Is there a good place around here?"




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