"Good morning, Ms. Nichols. How are you?" the young man asked.
"Fine, thank you," she said. Tasha gave the valet a guarded smile, but it was enough to turn him beet red.
"Did you walk?" I asked.
Her dark brown eyes slashed over me. "I commute from the East Bay and the traffic is ridiculous."
"Maybe you should get a helicopter," the valet suggested.
Tasha laughed, a short bubble that sent my blood sizzling. "Land on the roof and miss seeing you? No thanks."
The valet melted against the key stand with a soft jingle. "I take the BART train too."
"Smart man," Tasha said. She glanced at my new Maserati. "Let me guess: your new toy?" she asked.
The valet in the driver's seat broke out of his daze. "Brand new, Ms. Nichols; what do you think?"
Tasha sighed and turned to give the car a polite once over. "I like the color. How do you stand sitting in all that commute traffic?"
"Actually, I just moved," I said. "Presidio Heights."
The valets whistled in appreciation, but Tasha just raised an eyebrow. "I suppose that fits your image," she said. "Sleek marble floors and modern minimalist furniture, or dark hardwood and ultra-masculine plaids?"
I bristled and tugged down the sleeves of my new suit. "Do you really think I’d wear plaid?" I asked.
"I think I'm late for a meeting. Have a nice day, gentlemen," she said.
We all stood rooted to our places as she trotted up the steps. The ruffled hem parted in the back just enough for a peek of a satin and lace slip. I let out a long, low whistle just to clear my head.
The valet at the stand stood up with a sharp jangle. "Ms. Nichols is the nicest executive in this entire building," he said to me.
"I agree." The valet in my car shut the door and drove into the garage while his two co-workers crossed their arms and gave me a look. "What?" I asked.
"I heard that you're trying to make Ms. Nichols your next conquest," the valet at the stand said.
The other valet snorted. "No offense, Mr. Maxwell, but good luck."
"What, you don't think I'm her type?" I asked.
They both shook their heads. "No way," the first valet said.
"Game over," the other one said.
I looked up the steps to where Tasha was walking through the glassed-in atrium. "We've got a lot in common. Especially these days."
The valet leaned on the stand and shook his head. "She rides public transit, like us."
"You've got a thing for her," I said.
The valet laughed. "I'm not the one staring."
I let the young man have that one. It was true; I was staring after
Tasha as she made her way through the lobby of Hyperion Industries. My eyes found her as I pushed through the revolving doors and made my way through the sun-drenched atrium. She'd always been a knock-out, but there was something different about her today. In my defense, I counted at least a dozen other people giving her appreciative looks.
Of course, everyone knew of Tasha's success, so they were curious about Hyperion's newest star. The attention had seemed to worry Tasha; she had had a funny frown on her sweet lips the whole day before, but now she seemed to have accepted her billionaire status. I looked at her bare shoulders in the sheer blouse, held back proudly, her perfect posture a hallmark of her grace.
It was a new outfit. I would have noticed that skirt with its flirty little hem before. I knew how the right clothes could boost a woman's confidence, but that still didn't explain the change I saw in Tasha. She still moved at her fast clip, but she had a smile and a greeting for everyone.