The receptionist hung up her phone the moment I disappeared into the elevator with Imogen. A wide smile broke across her face as she filed her nails, clearly pleased with herself.
"Julie Johnson, huh?" She smirked. "Miss Imogen warned me about her. Can't believe she had the nerve to show up here."
I sat across from Liam in his luxurious office, crossing my legs elegantly as I dabbed at the corners of my eyes with a tissue.
"She actually slapped me, Liam. Right in front of that old woman." I made my voice tremble just enough. "I was only trying to help."
Liam frowned, his handsome face darkening with annoyance. "Juliana always did have a temper. I can't believe she'd stoop so low."
I nodded, letting my shoulders slump in apparent dejection. "It was humiliating. And now she's stalking the building trying to get to your uncle."
"Forget about her," Liam said dismissively. "She's not worth your time."
Perfect. Time to pivot. I straightened my back and tucked the tissue away, composing myself with practiced ease.
"You're right. Let's talk about something more important." I leaned forward, voice dropping conspiratorially. "I heard you're having trouble securing that meeting with Dr. Emma Bella for your new energy project."
Liam's eyes widened with interest. This was exactly why I'd come today—not to complain about Julie, but to strengthen my position with the Ricardo family.
"How did you know about that?" he asked.
I smiled mysteriously. "I have my connections. And one of them happens to know Dr. Bella personally."
The annoyance in his expression vanished instantly, replaced by eager attention. Men were so predictable—show them something they want, and they forget everything else.
"Are you serious? Nobody can get to her. She's practically a ghost in the industry."
"She values her privacy," I agreed. "But I could arrange an introduction. If you're interested."
Liam reached across the desk to take my hand, his fingers warm against mine. "Imogen, that would be incredible. The board is breathing down my neck about this project. If I could get Bella on board..."
"Then consider it done." I squeezed his hand, watching his expression melt from stress into affection.
This was why I'd chosen Liam over his more powerful uncle. Nathaniel Ricardo might control the company, but Liam was malleable. Controllable. And with my connections, I could make him invaluable to the family.
Love was fleeting. Connections were forever.
---
I stood in the Ricardo Group lobby, arms crossed as I faced down the receptionist and two security guards.
"Miss, we've asked you politely to leave," the receptionist said, her voice dripping with fake courtesy. "This is a place of business, not a charity."
"I have business here," I replied calmly. "I'm here to fix the air conditioning on the executive floor."
The security guards exchanged glances. One of them stepped forward, hand moving to rest on his belt. "Ma'am, we don't have any repair appointments scheduled."
"Check again," I insisted. "Johnson Repairs. It was called in yesterday."
The receptionist's lip curled. "We don't use budget companies like yours. The Ricardo Group works exclusively with premiere contractors."
I was about to respond when the main doors slid open behind me. The atmosphere in the lobby shifted instantly—like someone had sucked all the oxygen from the room.
The receptionist's eyes widened in panic. She straightened so fast I thought her spine might snap.
"Mr. Ricardo! Good morning, sir!"
I turned to see him striding through the doors. Nathaniel Ricardo. The man who was somehow my husband, though he didn't know it yet. He looked even more formidable in broad daylight—tall and severe in a perfectly tailored suit, his sharp jawline set in what seemed to be a permanent frown.
Behind him walked a slightly shorter man carrying a tablet, presumably his assistant.
"Raymond, find out why the air conditioning still isn't fixed on the executive floor," Nathaniel barked, not even glancing in our direction. "It's been two days."
The assistant—Raymond—nodded quickly. "Yes, sir. I'll call maintenance again."
"Don't call. Find whoever is responsible and fire them."
He continued toward the elevator, clearly considering the matter closed. The receptionist shot me a triumphant look, clearly expecting me to be escorted out now that the CEO had arrived.
Raymond paused at the front desk. "Miss Chen, did an AC repair technician come by this morning? I was told someone was scheduled."
The receptionist paled slightly. "No, sir. Just this woman causing trouble." She gestured toward me. "Security was just removing her."
Raymond frowned. "No repair person at all? That's strange. The service company confirmed someone would be here by nine."
I cleared my throat. "That would be me."
All eyes turned to me. The receptionist laughed nervously. "Her? No, she's just someone who's been hanging around trying to get upstairs. She claims to know Mr. Ricardo."
"I never said that," I corrected, pulling out my worn work permit. "I said I'm here to fix your air conditioning. Johnson Repairs."
Raymond took the permit from me, examining it with a frown. "This is legitimate."
The receptionist sputtered. "But she can't—I mean, look at her!"
"What exactly am I looking at, Miss Chen?" Nathaniel Ricardo's cold voice cut through the lobby as he turned back toward us. "A woman who appears to be here to do a job while my executive floor remains insufferably hot?"
The receptionist withered under his gaze. "Sir, I thought—"
"You thought you could determine who was worthy to enter this building based on appearance?" His voice was quiet but lethally sharp. "Consider yourself terminated, Miss Chen. Security will escort you to collect your things."
The woman's face crumpled. I almost felt bad for her. Almost.
Nathaniel turned his steel-gray eyes on me, and I felt a jolt run through my body. Not fear, exactly. Something else. Something electric.
"And you." His gaze traveled from my face down to my simple outfit and back again. "I've seen you before."
My heart skipped. Did he recognize me from the courthouse? Did he know who I really was?
"You're the courier who keeps showing up with packages addressed to me personally," he continued, his tone cold. "Now you're a repairwoman? How many jobs do you have, exactly?"
I lifted my chin. "As many as it takes to pay the bills, Mr. Ricardo."
His mouth tightened. "Persistence won't get you what you want from me."
It took me a moment to understand what he was implying—that I was taking these jobs as an excuse to see him. As if I'd subject myself to being a delivery girl and repairwoman just to catch glimpses of Nathaniel Ricardo.
The arrogance was breathtaking.
"The only thing I want from you is to let me do my job and fix your air conditioning," I replied evenly. "Unless you enjoy sweating through your designer suits."
Raymond's eyes widened at my tone, but Nathaniel's expression didn't change.
"Raymond, take her upstairs. Let her fix whatever needs fixing and then get her out of my building." He turned away dismissively. "I don't have time for persistent nuisances today."
As he walked toward the elevator, I saw him pull out his phone and dial a number. "Need to reach you about the project," he said into the phone. "Call me back immediately."
At that exact moment, my phone began to ring in my pocket—the special ringtone I'd assigned to my most important clients. The sound echoed through the suddenly quiet lobby.
Nathaniel Ricardo froze mid-step.