Chapter 3 Riley #2
Before Riley could launch into a defensive response that would probably end this meeting before it truly began, Gerri stepped in with the smooth grace of someone accustomed to managing volatile personalities.
"Adrian, darling, perhaps you're being a touch rigid." Her tone carried gentle reproach wrapped in honeyed steel. "Riley clearly has the information somewhere. Maybe you could help her navigate it instead of dismissing it outright. Tell her exactly what you need."
Something in Gerri's inflection suggested layers of meaning Riley couldn't quite grasp.
Adrian's jaw clenched at being corrected so publicly, and Riley caught a flash of something almost vulnerable in his expression—as if being instructed on how to handle this meeting had caught him off guard.
For a moment, his carefully controlled mask slipped, revealing glimpses of complexity beneath the professional exterior.
Then his gaze drifted past Riley's desk to the trophy case positioned in the corner of her office. The afternoon light caught the polished metal of her kickboxing trophies, making them gleam like golden sentinels guarding her achievements.
Recognition flashed across Adrian's features, followed by something that looked remarkably like admiration.
"I didn't realize you were a professional kickboxer."
Riley crossed her arms, her posture straightening with defensive pride. "I am."
"Multiple-time national champion, actually," Gerri interjected with obvious satisfaction. "Riley's quite famous in fighting circles."
Riley gestured toward the gym beyond her office walls, where the sounds of training and encouragement still filtered through the thin door.
"I've been running this place and maintaining my competition schedule since my gym manager left six months ago.
So yes, the paperwork isn't perfect right now. I've been slightly busy."
Something fundamental shifted in Adrian's expression. The dismissive judgment melted away, replaced by genuine respect that transformed his entire demeanor. He set the papers down on her desk with careful deliberation, his movements suddenly less critical and more collaborative.
"Well, I'll need more than this to give you an accurate budget and financial game plan.
" His voice had lost its earlier edge, becoming almost comforting.
"If you want real, honest advice that will actually help your business, I'll need to spend the afternoon going through everything—bank statements, contracts, membership records, supplier agreements. The complete picture."
The idea of this stranger spending hours in her private office, dissecting every aspect of her financial life, made Riley's skin crawl with protective instincts. But she also recognized the truth in his words, and something about his altered approach made her defensive walls crack slightly.
She gestured toward her computer with reluctant acceptance. "If I pull up the digital files, can you work through them while I teach my next class?"
Adrian hesitated briefly, as if the prospect of solitary work in her space presented complications she couldn't understand. Then he nodded with quiet determination.
"Sure. I can adapt."
Gerri beamed like a proud architect watching her carefully designed blueprint fall into perfect alignment. "Well, wonderful," she said brightly, gathering her purse with satisfaction. "Looks like everything is settled then."
She glanced at Riley with twinkling eyes. "I'll see you next week for that self-defense class you promised me."
Within moments, Gerri had swept out of the office like a force of nature, leaving Riley alone with Adrian Kael and an atmosphere suddenly heavy with unspoken possibilities.
Riley moved to her computer, pulling up the files he'd requested—bank statements organized by month, supplier invoices sorted by vendor, and membership records that actually told a coherent story when properly displayed.
When Adrian stood up and stepped closer to examine the screen, his scent enveloped her like a warm embrace.
Something woodsy and masculine. And dangerously, devastatingly distracting.
Riley's pulse spiked again, and she cleared her throat to dispel the spell his proximity was weaving around her better judgment.
"There you go," she managed, stepping away from the desk. "Have at it. Hopefully, you can make sense of it all."
Before she could do something truly ridiculous—like ask this magnificent stranger to dinner or confess that his handshake had rearranged her entire nervous system—she escaped toward the door.
Once outside her office, Lila immediately cornered her with the predatory grin of someone who'd been waiting for gossip.
"Why is that gorgeous guy still in your office? And why do you look like you've been struck by lightning?"
Riley shrugged, aiming for casual indifference and probably missing by miles. "He needs a few hours to analyze my financial situation. I wasn't exactly prepared with the most organized presentation."
Lila's eyebrows shot toward her hairline. "You're letting a complete stranger dig through your finances and personal business records? Riley, that's insane, even for you."
Riley hesitated, second-guessing her decision. Then she admitted quietly, the words surprising even herself, "I think I can trust him."
The confession hung in the air between them, loaded with implications Riley wasn't ready to examine. She barely knew Adrian Kael, had spent less than thirty minutes in his presence, and yet something deep in her bones insisted he was safe. Trustworthy. Worth the risk.
And that realization unsettled her more than anything else that had happened in her office. Because Riley Vaughn didn't trust people easily, didn't let strangers into her world, and definitely didn't make exceptions for handsome men with eyes like storm clouds and voices that made her knees weak.
So why did every instinct she possessed insist that Adrian Kael was different?