Apricity (Hidden Hearts #1)

Prologue

Antonella

If young me ever saw who I am now—she’d surely be disappointed. Maybe work a little harder in school, or maybe even be less picky when it comes to the dating life. When I was younger, I thought I’d be married with a kid or two by this age. I was fucking wrong.

I’m barely scraping by as a journalist in the city of Chicago.

And nothing overwhelms me more than the early Monday meetings that come with this job. Especially ones scheduled before I’m supposed to show up at the office. I mean, six in the morning is a pretty ridiculous time. The bright side is getting to enjoy a sunrise with a warm breeze on my walks.

“Miss Vitale?” The bleach blonde receptionist calls for me from behind the black, LED illuminated desk.

“Yes?” I lean back, throwing my purse over my shoulder.

“Mr. Sullivan is ready for you.” She walks up to the door to the left of the desk and opens it.

“Thanks.” I walk through the door. The walls are painted a matte black finish. An intimidating choice for the area. Not my personal preference, but okay.

“Good morning, Miss Vitale,” he drawls. His thick Irish accent catches me by surprise. A rarity around here. My eyes snap up to his face.

Good God.

My heart practically stops beating. I mean, not literally—because then I’d be dead on the ground—but it sure feels like it. He’s a model. Like the ones off of a designer magazine cover with his pale green eyes, blond hair, and high cheek bones.

“Good morning, Mr. Sullivan.” I swallow the large lump forming in my throat. Ot Please, don’t fuck this up. I need this article to be perfect.

“Please, have a seat.” He gestures to the seat in front of his desk.

“Thank you.” I sit in the black velvet chair. I pull out my notepad, a sheet full of typed questions, and a pencil. “Mind if I get started right away? I’m on a tight schedule.” I glance down at my watch and quickly back up to him.

“Not a problem.” His smile brightens up his entire face.

“Great…” I clear my throat. Okay, Toni. You got this. Deep breaths. He’s just a guy you’re interviewing. “The Estrada has become an overnight suc—cess,” I stammer. My eyes dart between him and the paper. He’s drop dead gorgeous. And here I am, stumbling over my words. Calm down, Toni.

He chuckles. “You don’t have to be nervous. It’s okay. I don’t bite.”

What an odd thing to say during a meeting.

“Mr. Sullivan?”

“Yes?”

“My question?” I tap my pen against the paper.

“You never asked one.” His eyes narrow in on me.

“Oh, right! Sorry.” I let out a fit of nervous laughter. Fuck. I’m fucking this all up. “How have you handled the mass popularity?”

“We have two different clientele we’re targeting. One… a co nvenient nightclub side for the everyday, average person to let off some steam.”

I nod, jotting down the notes. “And the other?” I peer up at him through my lashes.

He rests his palms on the desk, clenching his chiseled jaw tight. “The other is a more specific demographic with specific tastes. How detailed do you want to go?”

I gulp. “Um?—”

“Because I can tell you everything we do here at The Estrada. Or…”

“ Or ?” I inhale a sharp breath, intimidated by his aura.

“I can show you.”

“Well…” I sit straight, gaining a few shreds of confidence. “A tour would be good for my report.” I stand, gathering my notepad into the crook of my arm.

“It would, wouldn’t it?” He smirks, yet remains unmoved.

“Unfortunately…” My nose scrunches up. “I don’t have time for one.”

“Right, of course.” His grip tightens around the trim of the desk, knuckles turning white.

“What did you say it was again? The demographic for the other part of the club.” I ready the pencil in my hand.

“People interested in a certain aspect of…” His pale green eyes darken entirely.

“Of?” I flash one of my dimples, curious. A little on the flirtatious side to squeeze out some legitimate answers. “Come on… You have to give me more than this.”

“Sex. It’s a sex club,” he says, devoid of emotion.

I inhale a sharp breath, completely caught off guard. “Oh.” I exhale a puff of air up into my caramel brown curtain bangs. “And what goes on there?”

Obviously sex, Toni. Why did I ask it like that?

“Anything and everything you could possibly imagine.” He squares his shoulders .

I quickly jot his answer down on my paper and glance at my watch. I’m already cutting it close with the mindless flirting. Ugh. “Is there anything else you could give me? You’re being quite vague, I’m sorry.”

“I could give you my real name.” He chuckles, completely avoiding the question. And also taking me by surprise.

“Your real name?” I tilt my head with confusion. “Mr. Sullivan isn’t your real name?”

“No, Miss Vitale. It’s not.”

“Why—”

“Privacy, security… any reason you could think of when it comes to running a nightclub in a big city.”

Both of my brows hike up as my lips purse. “I suppose you have a point. Thank you for meeting with me. I’m sorry it had to be quick. Scheduling conflicts and—” I stand while throwing my notes back in my purse.

“Is there a phone number I could get for you? You know, for research purposes.” He winks.

I shake my head as I head toward the door. “My people will contact your people, Mr. Sullivan .” My hand barely brushes the handle, hovering over it.

“And Miss Vitale?” The sound of his voice reverberates off of the walls, sending chills down my spine.

I peer over my shoulder, refusing to fully meet his gaze. “Yes?”

“I sincerely hope we do meet again.” He grins from ear to ear, showing off his perfectly white teeth.

I face the door once again and step out of the room, leaving him with the last word. I imagine he’d want to have it. I can’t help but smile like an idiot as I walk past the receptionist and out of The Estrada’s office area. I got exactly what I came here for, and a little harmless flirting on the side…

What else could go wrong?

I giggle to myself as I walk out of the building and hail a taxi. One stops directly in front of me and I slide in .

“Millennium Park, please.”

“No problem,” the driver says.

I grimace as the meter goes up. Down to my last ten dollars after this, but there’s no way I’m going to walk five miles and make it on time for work. This time, I’ll admit, it’s faster to drive and I’ll have time to get my favorite drink.

Stopping at the café for an iced caramel macchiato? Necessary.