Blueprint for Love

Blueprint for
Love

Love Under Construction
Series: Book 2

By Chanta Rand

Copyright 2014 Chanta
Rand

Smashwords Edition

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Blueprint for Love

Ronnie Jones is busy trying to juggle the
challenges of a new construction business along with the demands of
being a single mother. After the death of her husband six years
ago, she’s sworn off relationships. Who needs to deal with the
hassles of dating anyway? She’s surrounded by sweaty construction
workers all day. She’s not easily impressed with men. Especially
not with cocky Vic Romano. From the moment the ex-con walks into
her office looking for a job, he rubs her the wrong way.

All Vic Romano needs is a break. He’s served
his time and he’s ready to work towards a new beginning. He has his
sights set on the foreman job at Three Sisters Construction.
Unfortunately, he gets off on the wrong foot with co-owner, Ronnie
Jones. His hopes for a fresh start are dashed before he can even
get his steel-toed boot through the door.

When fate intervenes and
their paths cross again, Ronnie realizes she may have misjudged
Vic. The fact that he’s damn sexy and he makes her panties melt
doesn’t hurt either. Every time the two get together, the sexual
tension is hotter than fireworks on the 4
^th
of July. Vic is confident
he can break through Ronnie’s tough exterior, but Ronnie will have
to look past the mistake he made years ago to appreciate the man he
is today.

Is this a disaster waiting to happen? Or
could it be the blueprint for love?

Vic Romano breathed a sigh
of relief when the police cruiser flew past the curb where he stood
and made a sharp right turn. The red and blue flashing lights
disappeared down a busy Miami street. Even though the cops weren’t
pursuing him, he still flinched every time he heard the shrill
sound of the police siren.  He had to remember he was not that
little punk ass teenager of so long ago.
He was not plea-bargaining. He was a grown man
now. He’d put those transgressions behind
him.

Today, he’d traded his
steel-toed boots for loafers that hurt his feet, khaki slacks, and
a button down shirt. No use wearing a suit to an interview as a
foreman. He had to look the part.

Like he was
capable.

And he was.

Despite losing five years
of his life in prison.

Should he tell the
interviewer about his past? Yep, his parole officer said to be
honest. It would come out sooner or later on the reference check.
He tugged at the fat knot of his tie. It had been a long time since
he’d worn one of these torture-devices. He was more at home in
jeans and t-shirts. But he had to make a good first impression. He
was embarking on a new beginning. And if wearing this getup was the
price of admission, he’d gladly do it.

He passed the mirrored
doors leading to the entrance of Three Sisters Construction. The
reflection staring back at him was confident and self-assured, with
a grim-set look of determination. His emerald eyes were set against
skin tanned from too much time spent outside in the elements. The
hard angles of his jaw hadn’t been malformed, despite all the
fights he’d been in. His thick black hair was longer than was
considered professional. But he’d pulled it into a short ponytail
for today’s interview. He was willing to make a lot of changes now
that he was out of the pen—chopping off his locks was not one of
them.

He welcomed the blast of cool air that
greeted him when he opened the door. It was a hot, sticky day. In
about six hours, the sun would start sinking, and the ocean breeze
would cool things off. In the meantime, life was unbearable unless
you were wearing a swimsuit.

The woman at the front
desk stared as he approached. She looked more like a starlet than a
secretary. Her heavily
mascaraed lashes
swept across him, eyeing him with a hungry look. Vic could have
sworn she licked her red lips before asking, “What can I do for
you, sir?”

The air was pregnant with
her
innuendo. The
old Vic would have tossed her a dazzling smile, flirted a
little, and then found the nearest horizontal surface to get to
know her better. Funny how a nickel in the pen could change a man.
He had no desire to get sidetracked by some chick who might be
trouble later on. Besides, he’d already gotten his itch scratched
the moment he got out of prison last week.

“
I’m Vic Romano,” he said.
“I’m here to see Ronnie Jones.”

The secretary picked up
the phone and pressed a button. “Ronnie, Vic Romano is here.” She
nodded and then hung up the phone. “Have a seat,” she told him. “It
shouldn’t be long.”

He glanced at the other
three men sitting in the waiting room. They all appeared better
prepared than him.

C’mon, man. You can do
this. You’re just as good as these guys.

He didn’t bother to look
at the magazines on the table or hum along to the country-western
song playing low on the secretary’s radio. His intestines were
twisted like a rope. When he folded his arms over his chest, his
fingers grazed the damp material beneath his armpits. The only time
he’d been more nervous was when he’d sat in a Dade County courtroom
awaiting the verdict of his case. He wiped at the beads of
perspiration on his upper lip. His future depended on this job.
Well, things weren’t that drastic, but if he didn’t seal the deal
today, he’d be back at square one. He needed some good news in his
life right now.

After fifteen minutes, he
checked his watch. He was on time. Ronnie Jones, however, was ten
minutes late. Whoever this guy was, he probably kept people waiting
all the time. That’s how the world worked. The big dogs called the
shots. The little dogs scratched and survived, waiting patiently
for their turn. Vic fell somewhere in between. He damn sure wasn’t
a little dog. He knew what it took to be the leader of the pack.
But every time he got close, something blocked his path. He’d
wasted too much time getting derailed from his goals. He was an
entrepreneur at heart. He had plans to establish his own business.
Today was a stepping-stone in that direction. A new
beginning.

The door to the inner
office opened, and a woman with mocha colored skin wearing a prim
and proper pantsuit stepped out. She was pretty in an understated
way. The way she had the top button of her pink blouse buttoned
tightly against the hollow of her throat let Vic know the woman was
all business.

“
Victor Romano,” she
called out to no one in particular.

Vic was so busy staring at the lush lines of
her lips he almost didn’t hear his name. For a secretary, she sure
had an air of authority about her. Her skin was flawless. His first
thought was what would it feel like beneath his fingers? His second
was, were all the secretaries here this hot? And where the hell was
this Ronnie fellow? The chick in the pantsuit must be taking Vic to
meet the guy. Or maybe she was the first round of the interview. In
either case, he’d better pile on the charm with this one.

He stood. “You can call me Vic, pretty
lady.”

The woman’s half-smile faded.

Oh, shit. Maybe that was the wrong
strategy.

“
Follow me,” she
ordered.

Vic enjoyed watching the sway of her
backside as she led him down a narrow corridor. They passed two
other offices, a break room, a copy room, and then finally, they
entered a bright, airy office. A half-dozen potted plants were the
only snatches of color in an otherwise minimalistic room.

“
Have a seat,” the woman
said.

“
I’m supposed to be
meeting some guy named Ronnie,” Vic answered as he half-lowered
himself into a black leather chair.

“
I’m Ronnie,” she
confirmed, pointing to a brass nameplate on the door that
read,
Veronica Jones
. “Maybe if you hadn’t been staring so hard at my ass, you
would have noticed that.”

“
How did you—?”

“
I have eyes in the back
of my head.”

He chuckled at her boldness and his
stupidity. She was right. He’d been so focused on her round
backside he hadn’t paid attention to the sign on the door.

“
Something funny?” she
asked, looking mildly annoyed.

“
I’ve learned that when
you foul up in life, you have to learn to laugh about it. Can’t
take yourself too seriously.”

She regarded him coolly
for a moment. “Well, let’s get this over with. I’ve got a lot
of
serious
candidates out there waiting.”

Vic sat down, even though he had the feeling
he wouldn’t be here for long. So much for new beginnings.

Ronnie stared at the man seated across from
the desk in her office. Pensive eyes. Long, aquiline nose.
Coal-black hair. Athletic build. Everything he did—from the deep
drawl of his voice, to the too-familiar way he addressed her,
exuded arrogance. Even the way he sat in her chair, as if he owned
the place, rubbed her the wrong way.

Okay, so he was good-looking. With dreamy
green eyes and sculpted cheekbones, he was better suited as a
runway model than a member of a construction crew. But his
chauvinistic behavior detracted from his good looks. The man’s date
of birth showed he was seven years younger than her. How could a
man reach the age of twenty-nine and not have learned any lessons
in humility? This was definitely not the kind of guy she wanted
working for Three Sisters Construction. She and her sisters,
Candace and Marlowe, had put their blood, sweat and tears into
co-owning this business. She’d be damned if she let some handsome,
Antonio Banderas look-a-like come in here and foul it up.

“
You’re applying for the
position of foreman,” Ronnie confirmed. “What other experience do
you have?”

“
I have a carpentry
background, as well as experience as an electrician. I’ve worked
with Pinnacle Construction in the past. You may have heard of them.
I’m reliable, and I’ve got what it takes to lead a
crew.”

Ronnie consulted the file
containing his brief
résumé
. There was a lot she wanted
to know, but only one question burned in her mind. “You have a
five-year gap in your employment,” she noted aloud. “What
happened?”

She was busy scribbling notes while she
waited for his reply. He paused for so long, she wasn’t sure he was
going to answer. She looked up, expectantly.

“
That gap represents time
I spent reflecting on a mistake I made,” he said. “I’ve since put
the incident behind me, and it has no bearing on my ability to do
this job. If you take me on, you’ll find I’m more than capable of
taking care of business.”

She read between the lines. An ex-con.

What crime had he committed? Was she allowed
to ask?

To hell with it. She was in charge of
recruiting and hiring. She had a right to know.

“
Why were you
incarcerated?” she asked.

His gaze held hers. Something flickered in
his eyes that she couldn’t quite put her finger on. Anger? Regret?
Frustration? “It’s a long story.”

I’ll bet!

“
Was it for larceny?” she
asked.

“
No.”

Good. She didn’t want to have to worry about
anyone stealing from the company. As her eyes flitted over his
muscular physique, another, darker thought popped into her mind.
Vic Romano was a brawny man. He could easily overpower someone.

Some helpless female.

“
You weren’t in there for
rape, were you?”

His smooth-as-butter exterior finally
cracked. He pinned her with an intense look. “Ms. Jones, I don’t
need to force myself on any woman. I’d never stoop to such a
disgusting crime.”

He actually looked pissed. She realized
she’d touched a nerve. On more than one occasion, she’d been
accused of being blunt. When it came to business, hell yes. She got
right to the point. When it came to her personal life, she was even
more direct. No use beating around the bush.