Chapter dedication: lilmizzapplez

Song of recommendation for the chapter: Don't worry, be happy - Bobby MC.

Day 3 challenge: Have sex twice in a day.

P.S: Chris' POV alert!!!!! It's more like a filler chapter, but enjoy.
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Chris rode up the elevator, ignoring the two other people who stared at the moving numbers. His mind had been on Lee after he dropped Daniel at his parent's house. The little boy had been over the moon when he saw the desserts. He'd even painted a picture for Lee in the car.

Like the sun, she stole over the storm in his sky and made it brighter and calm. Lee didn't even know her own power, which made her even more alluring. He couldn't even think of her without getting hard.

Hell and empty baskets!

What was happening to him?

There was also his mother. Chris dreaded seeing that woman for no other reason than the fact that she always tried to sic some heiress on him. When he got there this morning, a slim, beautiful brunette was standing beside his mother at the front door. He'd dropped Daniel off and rushed into his car with the excuse of a business meeting. Not that he was lying.

The elevator doors opened, and he stepped out into the quiet an early break.

Good. Time to collect his thoughts.

He marched down the aisle to his office, unlocked it, and settled in behind his desk. Might as well get to work on the CallaTech building. That one would be fun. He could think while working. That's how he got his best ideas.

He opened the set of notes and specs Dominik had forwarded from the meeting.

How do I get mother to stop trying to marry me off to Ladies I've never even met?

Clearly, if he wanted to make his relationship with Lee work, he needed to show good faith, but what would satisfy him? And why the hell was going out with Ledia Arden so important?

He sat back in the chair and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Sheee- it. Is the burden that heavy, fílos?"

Chris looked up and smiled. "There's no rest for the wicked, my friend."

Dominik came in and crashed into a guest chair, one leg draped over the arm. When clients or even staff were around, Dom modeled professionalism. When it was just the two of them, he reverted to their casual style.  "So what's up?"

Did he want to tell his friend about the challenge he entered himself in?

That was, like, breaking one of the many rules of the Agency. But, they wouldn't know that he told someone. Unless they stashed a wire somewhere, anyway.

Chris shrugged.

"No way, Chris. I haven't seen you looking beat down much. Tell me."

He needed perspective. Dom had provided that for. . .ever. "Okay." He puffed a breath. "You know how I told you that I was going on a date with a lady I met through a dating site?"

"Uh, yeah, but tell me more."

Chris widened his eyes. "Oh, okay. Well. . ."  Hell. "Uh, I went on the date and after it ended, I decided that I want to date her for the long term, but she's quite wary about my intentions. Then there's my mother who's determined to set me up with rich heiresses. I am quite confused." He ducked and covered his head with his arm.

"Wow," Dom raised a dark eyebrow; a gesture they'd copied from each other.

"I should just listen to my mother, right?" He came out from under his arm but stared at the fingerprints on his glass desktop.

Silence.

Chris looked up. Dom gazed at him. "When was the last time I heard you say you had a girl you wanted to take date?"

He shrugged.

"I think it was after your ex left you."

"Yeah. Anne-from-stag-city." He smiled.

"I'm sorry— what?"

Chris waved his hand. "It's nothing. Please, continue."

Dom eyed him warily, but continued, "Yeah. So after that relationship ended, I remember that you were like, 'Committing is overrated, I'm the boss, I can't be heartbroken.'"

"I can't believe you're quoting Jordan Sanders."

"Hell, I love that movie, Fílos. But hear me. You said you'd never fall in love with any woman again. But you know what?"

"Yeah?"

"Time to start living again."

"But my mother. . ."

"First things first, it's good to listen to your parents because they are . . . well, your parents." Dom spread his hands. "Another thing is that despite what everyone seem to believe, you don't always have to listen to them."

"That's easy for you to say," Chris cocked half a smile.

"Your happiness should come first. If you marry one of the ladies your mother seem to have endless supply of, then you'll be ruining three lives."

Chris bent his head and wiped a hand over his neck. "Ledia doesn't trust me yet."

"Good. You can make her trust you. There's assurance that she's not after your money."

Chris groaned.

Dom narrowed his eyes. "Is she aware of who you are?" At Chris' shake of head, he sighed. "You have to tell her."

"I will, but I am just afraid that she'd change once she knows who I am."

"Life is all about risks. If you don't take the risk, you will never know the outcome."

He sighed. "Let me think on it. Okay?"

"Okay, but don't think too long. No point letting this one get away."

Chris looked up and grinned. "You’re one helluva friend."

"Ditto, my man." He stood. "So who's Ledia?"

"She owns a bakery in Harlem. She's nice too."

"That's so unlike you. You always date people who are equal with you."

"Ledia keeps me on my toes. Besides, I think it's time for a change."

"No shit?"

"I discovered independent women are my type now. And red hair is the cherry on top."

"I'll be damned. Never thought I'd see the day you will be so whipped. And you just met this girl. I would love to meet her." He winked. "So we need to get to work on a design concept." He glanced at his watch. "I'll assemble the crew for a preliminary."

Chris nodded, and Dom left the office.

Good friend. But it was one thing to have your best friend accept your romantic idiocy. The rest of the world? Another story.

He gathered his materials and headed for the brainstorming room, complete with walls of marker board, tons of coffee, and even play toys in the middle of the table to stimulate ideas.

Dom sat there already, and a sheet of paper lay in front of every chair. Paperless worked for records, but creatives needed a place to doodle. The design team filtered in and started reading the parameters for CallaTech.

Zayn, one of their young design wizards, raised his arms. "Man, this is wicked. Totally Rad. We get to do this cool building, all high-tech, glass and bleeding edge?"

Dom smiled at him, but Chris felt a little crease between his brows.  "I don't want to go overboard. The CEO was referred to us by a guy who thinks Mediterranean is classic, clean, and always a good choice. Our CallaTech guy may consider himself groundbreaking, but we better not test his resolve."

Dom said, "You really think so, Chris? I got the feeling that he responded well to your suggestions and came to us because he wants to think outside the New York City box."

"Yeah, well, we can round off a few corners, but let's not create a trapezium, okay?"

Dom shrugged, and the team began discussing parameters and how they could fit into city codes, but at the same time not going with the all glass and few blocks skyscrapers that seemed to dominate the city.

Chris participated, but half his brain drifted down to Harlem and into the warm fold of a bakery tucked between two shops.

After two hours of brainstorming, Chris called for break. The team dispersed and Dom patted his shoulder on the way out. He checked his wristwatch. 04: 30 p.m. He had a meeting with the CEO of CallaTech and he had no idea when that would end.

He needed to see Lee.

Pushing back his chair, he rose to his feet, deciding to go for the lunch he missed and prepare his speech for the meeting.

*

Chris stepped off the elevator into his offices on the seventeenth floor.

"Have a good lunch?" Hannah, the super efficient admin who insisted she sit at a receptionist's desk since 'people like to be greeted by humans and not droids,' met him with a smile.

"Uh, yes. Thanks." He barely remembered lunch. Too much thought about one hot— cute and pro with children— lady. Funny.  He usually didn't think about his partners when a million dollar contract was underway, but this one seemed to have slipped past all his defenses and rules.

It felt like getting hit by a freight train.  Torn and gone with the wind.

"Ms. April Hale came by."

Chris frowned. "I spoke to her on my way in."

"She said she forgot to tell you something. She'll call. Also, your mother called."

Chris shook his head. "The woman refuses to get with the technology. Clearly the term 'voicemail' is not good as a messenger."

She widened her arms. "She said she'd much rather speak with me than a machine."

"I think it's a case of old horses and new tricks."

"Aw, she's not that old." She didn't say that convincingly.

He snorted. "If you're going to succeed in business, sweetheart, you must learn to lie."

"She's not!" She shrugged. "Maybe voicemail wasn't invented in her time, but not old."

He gave her a raised eyebrow and walked toward his office, sharing a few nods with his staff. Wonder what Hannah would think of Ledia?

He needed to get his mind off her now. There were many thing he needed to take care of. Like the business and . . . case in point.

He sighed, pulled out his phone, and dialed.

Beverly Ross' melodious voice answered. "Ross."

"When are you ever going to set up your contacts so you know it's me calling?"

"I keep meaning to ask Bella."

"You really want her pawing through your life?"

"And I imagine that's what PA's are paid for."

"What if she sold your private life to the press?"

"She wouldn't dare. Besides, she signed an NDA, so she would do nothing of the sort."

He chuckled. It was so like Beverly to do such a thing. His mother took no prisoners when it came to protecting herself and her loved ones.

"Honey, don't think I didn't know you ran after you saw Ms. Hale."

"I didn't run far enough, apparently. You gave her my number and office address."

"I imagine how shocked you must have been." She chuckled.

"I told you to stop setting me up, mother. Your matchmaking skills may have worked with Amanda and Caesar, it wouldn't work for me."

"Don't jinx it until you try it, honey."

"Don't say things like that, mother. It's not like you." Chris chuckled. "I know you didn't call me because of Ms. Hale."

"You know me so well, Christopher Oswald Ross."

"Chris, mother. Chris." He sighed.

"I'll call you whatever I want, you insolent child." She huffed. "Now, you listen to me. We are throwing a party in celebration of your sister's anniversary and Caesar's new contract with Apple."

"And when will that be?"

"That will be on the thirteenth of this month. I'm sure I don't have to tell you that everyone in the family will be there."

"More like the whole of Manhattan, right?"

"So right."

He rolled his eyes. "I will be there. I'll let you know if I'll bring anyone."

"Okay, call Bella and tell her."

"I could text you." He grinned even though Beverly couldn't see him.

"Don't be ridiculous. I expect to see you on Saturday with your date." She hung up.

At fifty-seven, Beverly Christiana Ross was a menace. Not that she looked old. Medium height, beautiful, with sleek brown hair and a fit body. She commanded attention in any room from women and men. But, his mother refused to master technology. She didn't recognize a song written after 1950 —when she hadn't even been born. She allowed her assistant, Bella Morris, to take care of anything related to her phone. The only Technology his mother enjoyed was the home appliances and anything party related.

Yeah, Beverly was that type of woman. She loved anyone excuse to throw parties. The coming one was one of them.

There was a tap on the door. "Come in, Dom."

His VP of operations either listened at his door or had some type of hearing power, but he always knew when Chris was free. Of course, Dom had known him for thirty wonderful years.

The door opened. Tall, built Phim, who always wore white starched collar shirts, stuck his head in the door. "We've got CallaTech in the conference room in ten."

"Trust me, I remember." Chris smiled at his oldest friend.

"This could be a big one."

"Yep. Prestige and money, baby. Hard combo to find."

Usually when they got to design big-style buildings, they lost their shirt trying to make an impact and win awards. This one had such a big budget, they might get recognition and still have some profit leftover. Of course, they didn't have it yet.

Chris stood and pulled on his linen sports jacket. He was doing casual in honor of their soon-to-be client—he hoped. A few checks on social media suggested Aaron Callas, CEO of CallaTech, did California style to the max, and Chris was nothing if not client oriented.

"Showtime."

He and Dom strode into the conference room where Aaron Callas and two of his troops, both female, sat sipping something that looked suspiciously like Cosmo, probably acquired by the omniscient Hannah.

Chris stepped forward, hand outstretched, "Mr. Callas, I'm Christopher Ross. Welcome."

"Call me Aaron. And this is Victoria and Sandra, my chief technical officer and my head of manufacturing, but you know they're also really smart and have great taste and I hardly ever make a decision without them."

Interesting.

"This is my VP of operations, Dominick Phim."

"Well, now, hell. Are we diverse or what?"

For a second, Chris froze. Did he mean Dominik?

Callas laughed. "Two females, one of whom is black, a Greek, and a yankee—" He cocked his head at Chris. "I think you've got the map of the world in you, son."

"I'm what you might call a yankee mixing pot." Chris raised a brow.

"A regular yankee collation. So let's get to work. How do you see my building?" He leaned forward, folded his hands in front of his pitbull chin like he was waiting for a story, and stared at Chris and Dom as they sat.

"More importantly, Aaron, how do you see your building? When someone walks inside, what do you want them to feel or know about CallaTech and the people who work there?"

"Well, now, that’s a damned good question." He glanced at the women, who stared back at him. "We’re a bunch of smart, honest people who design things for other people smart enough to recognize the quality and superiority of our products and are honest enough to pay us on time."

Chris sat back. "People for people, then."

Callas looked at him with a quizzical expression. He glanced at the women. "Did you see how he did that? Dove right in on the heart."

They both nodded and smiled.

"I like that. Yes, we create stuff that makes people's lives better, and we try to make the lives of the people who work for us better too. Like you said, people for people."

Chris smiled. "So a 'people building' isn't pure high tech. It's got a human dimension."

Sandra, the manufacturing person, who was probably fifty though a very fit and attractive woman, said, "Yes, a friendly space. Like in our assembly plants, I like to have something pretty for people to see. Something to inspire them and remind them what they’re working for."

Chris nodded. "I get that. Like  putting something living and beautiful in sight of every person. A breath of fresh air."

"Exactly."

They plunged into more in-depth discussion. Aaron never mentioned another architect or competition.

Finally, as Callas and his team were gathering their stuff to leave, the suspense got to be too much. Chris smiled. "So when will you be making a decision?"

"Decision?" Aaron cocked his head.

"As to which firm you'll go with."

"We decided before we came here. We're going with you—unless you fuck it up!" He laughed. "Hell, you remember Grey of Grey Holdings Inc.? "

"I do. We designed his current building in Miami."

"He told me I'd be crazy to select anybody else. He didn't get to where he is today without knowing who's who, so you're in."

Chris caught his breath. "I'm delighted. We're so excited to be working with you."

"I can tell that, and it matters a hell of a lot."

"You mentioned Mr. Grey. Are you friends with Christian?"

"Of course. He says Anastasia, his wife, suggested you to him in the first place."

Ah. The man was hard to please. It was a wonder that he referred anyone to Chris. "I had the pleasure of meeting Mrs. Grey at a book conference my ex girlfriend invited me to in Seattle."

Aaron winked. "One can only wonder how such a ray of sunshine got caught up with the storm that is Christian."

For a second Chris thought Callas was trying to see if he would slip up about the lifestyle Christian Grey lived with his wife behind the door of their home. "They were made for each other."

"True. The girls and I will line up the people and coordinate with you on meeting times."

Dom escorted Aaron and his cohorts out of the conference room with a smile that spoke of millions dollars. Chris grabbed his phone and dialled Lee's number. She didn't answer.

He tried it three times and got the same result.

He tucked the phone into his pocket, packed his notes and walked out of the conference room. A quick glance at his watch told him it was a little after seven already.

Chris decided to visit the bakery.

That would give Lee a pleasant surprise.

A/N:

Did I hear someone say, this author is evil 😈??????? 

Hahahahahahaha. 😂

I'm not. Or maybe I am. But just a tiny, teeny bit.

QOTC: Do you think he saw Lee and King kissing?

Treasure hunt: The quote by Dominik from above is from which Movie? 😉.

Clue: Jordan Sanders.

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