"tea for Nyla." The Barista passed her the cup and Nya thanked her before swiping her card.

She maneuvered around the cluster of people and settled into a table in the corner of the Starbucks. The place was bustling with people and there was a flurry of activity. Men, women, kids, they were all ordering and rushing out the store to get to where ever they needed to be.

Nyla took a sip out of her drink and frowned. It was a poor replacement for the jasmine tea she made at home every morning, but it would have to do for today. She pulled out her copy of the Wall Street journal and began reading. It was a waiting game now.

A few minutes later, the door open and a cold breeze gently swirled around Nyla. She shivered and looked up to see her target and smiled. She watched as his foot tapped on the shiny floors impatiently waiting to receive his drink—a decaf roast.

She continued watching as he moved around the shop before settling in the empty chair beside her. Nyla wanted to applaud her assistant Hyeon once more. She had been right. It seemed that Marcus Reed order the same drink everyday and sat in the exact same spot. OCD tendencies but who was Nyla to judge. Nyla looked over casually to her right just as Marcus opened the newspaper she'd been reading minutes ago.

"Chevron's gone down four percent," she commented casually.

Marcus looked up to stare at her, his eyes seem to be saying who the hell is she?

With his full attention on her, Nyla continued. "I personally think that their stock is going to plunge sharply in the next few days."

"Well that's funny, investors all over Wall Street are trying their best to get as many shares as they can in that company."

Nyla shrugged her shoulders and took a sip of her tea. "It's stupid, they should open their eyes and see for themselves. The company is a scandal waiting to happen—but then what would I know, I'm not a high-powered investment banker."

Marcus laughed, it was slow and deep. A sound that made Nyla want to hear him laugh more. "You're no investor but I would have come to the same conclusion you did."

Nyla smiled. This was easy, she'd already gotten him to lower his barriers a bit. "Well then Mr. Reed, I should be asking you which stocks I should invest it."

Marcus lowered his newspaper and turned his chair towards her. "Maybe you should make a few guesses and I'll tell you what I think."

Nyla began rattling off a few companies she'd been looking into for the last few days. When she was finished, Marcus slowly applauded his hands.

"Well, I don't know what you do, but you should try your hand at investment banking. You'd make millions."

Nyla laughed at the irony. "I'm too busy for that."

"Are you sure?" Marcus asked. "Because I have a golf tournament I'm playing in and I'd love to convince you to join my firm."

Jackpot.

Nyla did her best not to look to interested but she added a teasing tone to her voice. "I'm not sure about joining your firm but I do have a multi-million-dollar idea that would spark your attention plus I play a mean game of golf."

Marcus' eyes glittered with happiness and he shook out his hand. "I guess it's a deal then. You can share your ideas with me there, I'll see you on the course Ms...?"

"Malhotra," Nyla finished, and they shook hands.

"Something about you looks familiar," Marcus began asking when they had finished exchanging information about the upcoming business meeting.

Nyla tried playing it off casually as she picked up her blush pink purse, "I don't see how that's possible, I would have remembered meeting a face like yours."

With a wave, Nyla left the coffee shop satisfied.

♠♠♠♠♠♠

"I'm happy to announce this partnership with Sephora. It is my goal to make our products as accessible to the men and women around the world. Whether people wear makeup for artistry, confidence, or just because they love it, we want everything to be available to them at the best quality possible. I'm glad that you decided to join us here today and I'll be opening the floor to questions now." Nyla concluded her speech by folding the piece of paper on the podium and shifted her gaze to the crowd.

It was a good size crowd, she thought to herself. More than her public relations team had predicted. That was good. It seemed like more publicity was brought to the event after certain social media influencers had RSVP'd. Now she stood waiting for the questions that would be thrown at her.

"Ms. Malhotra, do you believe that your company does enough to ensure that it's new product line is 100% organic? There have been reports suggesting otherwise..."

Nyla looked at her public relations officer in question. She shrugged her shoulders in question indicating that this was the first she was hearing of it. Nyla grinded her teeth for a moment before transforming it into a smile.

"We have state of the art researchers and scientist who do their best to ensure we are being truthful to ourselves and our customers. To my knowledge, everything that we have come out with for this line is organic and was tested in the labs before being released on shelves, as is customary for all our makeup."

The reporter nodded at her answer before writing it down. Dozens of hands shot up and Nyla selected the next one.

"What are your thoughts on losing the bidding at last week's charity gala to Mr. Giordano?"

"Excuse me?" Nyla interjected, astonished that she was being asked a question like that directly.

Mistaking her interruption as a need to further clarify his question, the journalist continued. "The reports say that you were bidding until Mr. Giordano swooped in with a number that you weren't able to match."

Feeling ambushed, Nyla looked around the crowd to see that they were hanging on to every word. Of course, they wanted to know every detail.

"What the number was, doesn't matter. All proceeds were going to charity and I was happy to donate as much as I could. Mr. Giordano and I came to an agreement after I realized he wanted the painting more than I did. Additionally, Renne contributed a substantial amount as we continue doing for causes that are important to us."

It looked like the journalist was about to ask for more information, but Nyla was done with the press conference. The question had put her in a sour mood. "Last question," she said.

There were a few murmurs of annoyance, but she ignored them.

"Are you and Mr. Giordano dating?"

Now Nyla was very done. She knew what Charity had been hinting at earlier. Everyone just cared about her personal life and not the product launch. She wasn't getting the publicity she wanted all because of a stupid auction that she could have won. If she'd been a male, clearly nobody would have asked her half the questions they did today, but she wasn't. And until she became more powerful, she needed the people on her side.

"Mr. Giordano and I only met at the gala and if we are dating, it's news to me."

There were a few chuckles.

"That being said, I always keep my personal life out the way of business and will continue doing so for the rest of my time as CEO of Renne. I'm thankful that you all decided to show up and I hope you like the products."

Nyla exited the stage and found her public relations team. It seemed like they needed to have a long and serious chat.

♠♠♠♠♠♠

Nyla stepped out of the limousine and shut the door behind her. It was an hour-long ride from her office, but she'd utilized most of the time by looking at paperwork in the back.

Glancing at the golf club, she smiled to herself. It was evident that Marcus would only go to the most private, and respected club in New York, Piping Rock. Ordinarily, people were not allowed in without a sponsor or a friend, but this place felt like home to Nyla.

It was, in fact the place Raymond taught her to golf. The small number of people and vast terrain made it the perfect spot to practice and Nyla knew the field well. It also felt a big strange coming back here. She'd avoided it, choosing to take her business clients to other golf courses but somehow, fate brought her back here.

She made her way to the front of the door where she was asked for her ID. She slipped the card, so the young man could get a better look.

"Welcome Ms. Malhotra is there anything I can do for you today?"

Nyla smiled and slipped the ID back into her purse. "I was wondering if my playing partner Marcus Reed has arrived?"

The man looked down at the book a nodded. "Mr. Reed and the other members of your party have arrived. They are changing and left a note saying that when you were finished, they would be waiting right outside."

Nyla nodded and thanked the employee for his time. She looked around the club, feeling like she was in another person's skin. She quickly made her way to the dressing room and changed into her golfing gear. Tying her hair into a pony tail, she made sure her nude lipstick was still in place before taking her bag to the front.

She spotted Marcus instantly.

"It's good to see you again," he said with a smile.

He was dressed in a traditional golf outfit of white shirt and dress slacks. The sun glinted, and the Rolex nearly reflected into her eyes.

"It's nice to be here, thank you for inviting me."

Marcus nodded, "I hope you didn't have any trouble getting in. They are usually very strict about membership."

"Oh no, they were completely understanding." Nyla replied cordially. She avoided telling him that she'd used her own ID. Better to let the man think that the world revolved around him. "Are we ready to hit the field?" she asked.

"Almost," Marcus replied. "There are two others that will be joining us. They should be coming outside right about now."

Just as Marcus' sentence finished, two figures came out of the main hall. Almost identical, Nyla recognized the one on the right immediately.

"What are you doing here?" Darius asked her.

Marcus frowned, and elbowed Darius before Nyla could reply. "Don't be rude, she's my guest, I invited her."

"It's good to see you to Darius," Nyla said with a fake smile.

Associating with his man had made her life ten times harder than it needed to be, but it seemed like wherever Marcus was, Darius followed.

Marcus looked between the both of them as seemed to sense the tension. "Okay, who killed who's brother?"

"Clearly, I'm alive so it couldn't have been her," another smooth voice interjected.

Nyla looked up to see a pair of stunning baby blue eyes. The hair was lighter, the nose was much more pointed, but the jaw structure was eerily familiar and that's when Nyla knew she was looking at Darius' brother.

"I don't have any brothers." Nyla responded with a shrug.

"Well then, who the fuck are you?" Darius' brother asked.

Nyla frowned as his tone. She wasn't used to hearing crude language from people that were strangers. "I could ask you the same question."

"I'm Vincent," the man replied. He made no effort to outstretch his hand and neither did Nyla. She quickly introduced herself before suggesting that they hit the golf course.

The four of them sat in the golf cart with Marcus driving, and Vincent beside him. That left Nyla and Darius in the back. Sighing, she slipped in beside him, doing her best to avoid brushing her thighs with his.

"Am I really supposed to believe that you're not after him?"

Nyla looked at the scenery as they drove by. She heard Darius' question but waited to answer it. "Believe what you want, I told you the truth."

And then something shocking happened, Darius' smiled. Nyla was really taken back by his smile because although she saw him smiling in the billboards and magazines, it didn't seem as genuine as it did right now.

Darius starched one of his gray cladded legs, "Do you want me to believe that the CEO of a fortune 500 company is chasing after an investment banker romantically or because she wants an investment?"

"So, you know who I am?"

"I'll admit it, I didn't at the gala. Makeup isn't my forte, but Sona gave enough hints for my secretary to do a bit of research. She was quite shocked to find out I didn't know who you were."

Nyla snorted and fixed the ball cap on her head.

"But back to my original question, what are you hoping to pitch to Marcus?"

"I'd tell you but then I'd have to kill you."

Darius was about to say something but was interrupted by the abrupt stop of the golf cart.

"Shit Marcus, don't you know how to drive?"

Marcus turned around to glared at him. "That was because of your idiotic brother. He stuck his foot where I was driving."

Nyla jumped out of the cart, "shall we start our game boys?"

There were a flurry of agreements and everyone got their equipment out. "Who's teeing first?"

Marcus looked at the brothers but they both shook their heads. Marcus stepped back and waved his hand in the open space, "It looks like the first one is all yours."

Nyla nodded and lined up her shot before she swung. The ball whizzed through the grass and although they couldn't see where it had landed, Nyla had a feeling that this was going to be a good game.

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