Chapter 4

Instead of their usual drinks to start, and because he felt in a highly generous mood, Craig Marin ordered champagne cocktails for all his hardworking staff. Not only had Mrs. Weissman loved Sacha and Erica's ideas, but she had decided to add the pool house into the decorating mix. All in all, the Prestige by Design firm could easily walk away with a hefty fifty thousand dollar profit.

The employees and their boss congregated at their usual watering hole, the Gold Coast Pub & Grill. The place offered an eclectic mix of décor and clientele, as well as a comfortable, relaxed atmosphere. Now as the five participants sat around the table, Craig proposed a toast.

"Here's to Sacha and Erica, as well as the rest of us! Because without us, the world would be in terrible color-coordinating shape!"

"Here, here!" everyone agreed with buoyant laughter.

Relaxing, Erica allowed her gaze to roam around the table. Craig Marin ran his company with open, honest ease, yet still demanded hard work and loyalty. He had been in the interior design business for at least twenty years and had graduated from one of the country's top design schools, the same institute that Erica attended and graduated from on scholarship. At forty, he still looked youthful with his ash blond hair, darker goatee and bright blue eyes between crinkled laugh lines. The good life and a strong, twelve-year marriage had put on a few pounds, but Craig always referred to his tubby status as a selling point. Clients would rather see a well-fed, contented, and highly creative designer, than a wasted and pinched cardboard cutout, a victim of the latest fads in physicality and decorating ideas.

Next to the boss sat Victor Samaniego, the firm's accounts and billings manager. Victor's job kept the others in line just in case the designers came close to falling off the deep end both creatively and fiscally. Dark and handsome, Victor also claimed a happy marriage to an art director for an advertising agency.

That left Erica, Sacha and Tai Wilson, the office manager, as the unattached members of the group. Cute and spunky, Tai also remained the youngest staffer at twenty-three. A former California surfer girl, she had come out east to try her luck in Miami and wholeheartedly embraced her assistant's job during the week. On weekends, the little brunette with the spiked cut, sea foam eyes and pixie face could be found co-managing a surfboard and jet ski shop at South Beach.

As she returned to her champagne, Erica took a quick sip before she turned to scan the happy hour crowd. She had hoped her sister Maritza could join them this evening. Trying to get over a mentally-draining divorce, Mari had just begun to circulate again. Like her sister though, she found the singles life to be just as emotionally challenging and certainly different after seven years off the market.

Erica excused herself to use the ladies room. She had just about wended her way through the growing crowd when someone stepped out of the bar's corner shadows.

"Hello there," the man greeted. "I don't believe we've met before, but I'm sure I've seen you in here on several occasions."

Erica's gaze took in the man's attractive features and the shock of thick, dark hair as well as the small gold hoop earring in his left ear. He certainly dressed well in ebony slacks and shirt. Erica stood back. It was not that she was adverse to meeting men in bars, but she just didn't feel up to small talk with a stranger when her interests lay with her table of co-workers and the continuation of their celebratory good cheer.

She tried a pleasant smile. "I'm sure you have. I come in here from time to time. Now, if you'll excuse me-"

Sidestepping his tall, well-built figure, Erica marched on to the restroom. Five minutes later, she made her way back to her table, but found the stranger rooted in the same place, right in her path. Only this time he wore a more sober expression.

"Oh, listen," he started, "I'm sorry if we somehow got on the wrong foot. I'm usually not this bold, but you are very attractive. And if I didn't say something now, I never would."

"Maybe next time," Erica tried to counter politely. "I'm with a group of people tonight, and I plan to stick with them."

The man shrugged. "Okay, I understand. At least I tried." With that, he flashed another enigmatic smile before disappearing back into the shadows.

Despite the heat in the room, Erica shivered. Something about the guy both intrigued and repelled her, but as she continued back to the table, she tried to put the handsome stranger out of her mind. Suddenly, she recalled the note that Rosina had left her. "Senorita," the housekeeper had penned, "your man is tall, dark and handsome. His full name is Giancarlo Sloan. Good so far? Will find out more soon."

Maritza had decided to join them after all, and Erica eagerly and happily welcomed her younger sister to her circle of friends. This time, Victor had ordered a pitcher of premium beer and glasses all around. Beer and champagne... Erica hoped she didn't have a headache tomorrow. Yet, Saturdays gave her the opportunity to take it easy, and Rosina would make it possible to skip having the do the household chores.

"Oh, mi tesora, I have something for you!" Maritza gave Erica's hand an affectionate squeeze.

Similar in build and coloring to Erica, Maritza had altered her appearance by bleaching her hair to a honey color and wearing green contacts to give her hazel eyes a jade hue. Unlike Erica, she also preferred sexier, form-fitting clothes that accentuated her full figure and ample cleavage.