The Right One Read Online Free PDF Page A

curious, I’ll take you up on the offer. Maybe some education would do you good.”
    Paul smiled. “Then this evening? Maybe four?”
    Cami sucked her lips over her teeth. “Okay. Four. But don’t think you’re going to get something juicy to use against the sanctuary. I’m serious about what I’m doing here. It’s important. And I’m not going to let anyone tear it down. Do we have an understanding?”
    He nodded, eyes sparkling. “I’m not a shark, Ms. Lockhart. I had concerns, yes, as did many others. But from what I’ve heard so far, you’re taking every precaution humanly possible to protect everyone involved. I don’t want to destroy your dream. I’m even a bit fascinated by it. And you.”
    Cami laughed. “That’s a nice line, Mr. Schotter. But I’m not going to fall for compliments any more than I did for anything else. I’ll see you at four, and then I’ll kindly ask you to respect my privacy. Where would you like to meet?”
    “Henry’s? Do you like barbeque?”
    “Of course, but it doesn’t bode well for blueprints.”
    “No rush. We can talk about the sanctuary and then have dinner. My treat for the inconvenience.”
    “Dutch is fine. Henry’s then, four o’clock, and then we’ll take a ride across the property. You do know how to horseback ride, yes?”
    “Ms. Lockhart, I was born to a thoroughbred raisin’ family. I rode before I could walk.”
    You’re still not impressing me . “Right then. I’ll see you in a couple hours.”
    He nodded. “Until then, Ms. Lockhart.”
    Cami closed the door, edged to the window and watched him leave. She wasn’t sure what angle Mr. Schotter was playing, but she’d go. Maybe he’d learn a thing or two.
     
    Cami ran nail-bitten fingers through cascading hair. The long blonde hair, full and layered, draped down her back in soft curls, and looked much prettier than the fingers that tousled it. Glancing down at the nails bitten past the quick, she grimaced. It was a nasty habit, she knew, and one she’d stopped for a while. But recent nerves sparked the return of the disgusting quirk. She pumped the hand into a fist a couple times and dropped it to the side. Caring for the tigers and horses wouldn’t bode well for manicures, and she wasn’t that kind of girl anyway. But neither did biting dirty fingers. Time to quit.
    Sliding on the cowboy boots and gathering a form fitting jean jacket, she headed downstairs in the white home that resembled an old farmhouse, complete with a wraparound porch and hanging swing out front. With only the two bedrooms upstairs, living room, kitchen with a breakfast nook, and a third bedroom she’d turn into an office, the house was more modest than the one she’d grown up in. She wondered if that was the reason she loved it. Money was good, could be useful, but what sometimes came with it left a bad taste in her mouth. A humble life with modest but comfortable surroundings suited her better.
     
    Henry’s was the kind of restaurant people went to relax and kick back. With rough wood floors and tables more rustic than the floors, it had the best barbeque in the state. The kind of place where patrons wore food on their faces and hands without a second thought. A favorite of hers.
    But Paul Schotter didn’t need to know that.
    Cami glanced across the visible dining room, didn’t recognize the evening’s companion, and strode to the greeter’s podium. As the people ahead of her in line, Paul walked up beside her. “Good evening, Ms. Lockhart.”
    No smile. He’d have to earn that. “Mr. Schotter.”
    “Looks like we timed this well. You’re just arriving?”
    She nodded, noticing the jeans and t-shirt, and wondered if he’d dressed down on purpose. Not gym built, a subdued muscular build no longer hid by white collar clothes. She swallowed hard.
    “Good. Shall we?”
    She nodded.
    The greeter led them to a table against a far corner of the noisy restaurant and waited as Paul pulled out a seat for Cami and