His Christmas Package

Chapter 1

Harper

New York looks festive through the floor-to-ceiling windows as city workers put up decorations for the holidays throughout the concrete jungle I've dreamed of conquering since I was a kid, when I used to watch my dad work construction in Boston.

My heels click against the polished marble as I enter the conference room, portfolio tucked under my arm. 

Lucas Montgomery sits at the head of the table, his presence commanding the room without effort. His stormy gray eyes lock onto mine, and a slight smirk plays at the corner of his mouth. The five o'clock shadow dusting his jaw tightens as he clenches it. Power move. Classic.

The leather chair squeaks as I settle in, keeping my spine straight, chin tilted just so. I won't give him the satisfaction of seeing me fidget.

"Ah, Ms. Donovan." His voice rumbles through the room like distant thunder. "I was wondering when you'd show up to defend your... ambitious proposal."

My pen taps against the glass table once before I catch myself. "Ambitious? That's one word for it. I'd say innovative, but I suppose ambitious works if you're not used to fresh ideas."

The other executives shift in their seats. A paper rustles. Someone clears their throat. The tension in the room thickens like summer humidity before a storm.

Lucas's fingers drum once on his own proposal. "Fresh ideas are one thing. Pipe dreams are another."

"Funny, they said the same thing about your grandfather when he built this building." The words slip out before I can stop them, sharp as broken glass.

Lucas leans back slowly, the leather of his chair whispering against his expensive suit. His lips curl into a smirk that makes my fingers itch to throw something. "Fresh ideas don't always mean feasible ideas. But I suppose you'd know that, considering how often your bids fall apart under scrutiny."

The ventilation system hums overhead as the other executives shift in their seats again, growing more uncomfortable. Thomas from Finance adjusts his tie. Sarah from Legal suddenly finds her tablet fascinating. 

I lean forward, my pearl earrings catching the morning light. "And yet, I've outbid Montgomery Enterprises three times this year alone." My fingers spread across my own copy of my proposal, my perfectly manicured nails tapping the cover. "Imagine what I could do with more resources."

The smirk falters, just for a heartbeat. Victory sparks in my chest, but before I can savor it, his voice drops to a dangerous murmur. "Let's see if your ego can match your designs when they're actually put into action. This isn't a playground, Ms. Donovan. It's business. And in this field, you play by my rules, or you don't play at all."

My heart pounds against my ribs like it's trying to break free, but I meet his gaze without flinching. "Then it's a good thing I don't need your permission to play."

I notice Lucas suck in a sharp breath. I bet he wants to come undone at having a woman talk to him like this, but I don't give a shit. Let him snap. That will guarantee my bid. I know my work and I know how good I am at my job. That's why I'm here. 

He takes a moment before his composure is back. Everyone else in the room never even noticed, but maybe that's due to the fact that they are so uncomfortable that they are trying to pretend they are anywhere else but here.

Lucas taps the folder in front of him. "Innovative design. Bold choices." The entitlement back in his voice. "Perhaps too bold for this particular project."

"Too bold?" I arch an eyebrow, setting my portfolio on the table. "Or too threatening to Montgomery Enterprises' standard cookie-cutter approach?"

"Your design exceeds the budget by twelve million."

"My design will generate triple that in the first year through innovative space utilization and energy efficiency." I tap the sustainability report. "But you knew that already, didn't you?"

He stands, rolling up his sleeves. The movement draws attention to his forearms, and I force my eyes back to the blueprints. "What I know, Ms. Donovan, is that this isn't MIT. Theory doesn't always translate to reality."

"Good thing I deal in both." I stand too, refusing to let him tower over me. "Unlike some, I didn't inherit my position. I earned it."

The silence stretches like a rubber band ready to snap. My words hang in the air between us, sharp and precise as a architect's ruler. 

The client, Mr. Chen, clears his throat. "Shall we begin the bidding process?"

Lucas's jaw works, but he slowly lowers himself back into his chair. I follow suit, smoothing my navy skirt as I sit.

Numbers fly across the table like arrows. Lucas's voice drops an octave with each counter-offer, but I match him dollar for dollar, specification for specification. The leather of my chair creaks as I lean forward, laying out projected revenue streams.

"We'll need time to consider both proposals," Mr. Chen says, gathering his papers. "You'll hear from us within the week."

Lucas rises first, buttoning his jacket with practiced ease. Our eyes lock across the conference table as the others file out. The morning sun catches his profile, highlighting that infuriating jawline. He takes three steps toward the door, then pauses.

"Good luck, Ms. Donovan." His smirk slides into place like the final piece of a puzzle I never wanted to solve. "You'll need it."

He strides out, leaving me alone with the scent of his cologne and the thundering of my pulse. Damn him. Damn that smirk that sends heat racing through my veins. Damn the way his rolled-up sleeves revealed forearms that belonged in a sculpture gallery.

I jerk my blazer straight, my fingers catching on a button. Men like Lucas Montgomery aren't my type. Can't be my type. I've spent too long climbing this ladder to let some trust-fund CEO with perfect hair and a voice like aged whiskey derail me.

I quickly gather my materials and take a moment to look around at the picturesque windows of the skyscraper. 

This building, my building, will reshape Manhattan's skyline. And no amount of gray eyes or knowing smirks will stand in my way.