Joanna had practically begged Ian to let Colin move in with him, hoping against hope that her sensible, no-nonsense middle son might have a calming influence on the fun-loving, out of control youngest one. Ian had suffered Colin’s presence at his London townhouse for nearly two years, during which time he’d been constantly regaled with very detailed recaps of his brother’s sexual exploits of the previous evening. At least, thought Ian dryly, Colin had rather grudgingly abided by his brother’s insistence that he was never to bring one of his many women to the townhouse. Ian was admittedly something of a stuffed shirt, and extremely selective about the few women he himself had been involved with over the years. He’d also been very conscious about maintaining the family’s image and reputation, figuring that one irrepressible son was more than enough for his mother to fret over.

Davina Burkhart, the woman he’d been engaged to for barely six months, had been someone he had been acquainted with for a number of years before they had ever started dating. Her parents moved in the same social circle as the elder Gregson’s, and several of Ian’s closest friends also knew Davina well. Therefore, they had been thrown together on multiple occasions over the years, and eventually began to see each other. Ian knew now that his heart had never really been in the relationship, and that it had been at the prodding of his family and friends that he’d ever considered becoming engaged. He had liked and respected Davina, enjoyed her company, and knew that she would indeed have made him an excellent wife. She’d been educated at the very best private schools, was both intelligent and sophisticated, and had been raised with the same sort of privileged wealth that Ian and his brothers had always known.

But aside from the obvious things they’d had in common, Ian had come to realize that they had nothing else to hold them together. There was no passion, no romance, and even though Davina was considered a beautiful woman, he’d felt little physical attraction towards her. They’d had a sexual relationship, of course, but it had been so clinical and almost impersonal that Ian had often had difficulty in becoming aroused in her presence. And for all of Davina’s physical attributes – classically lovely features, gracefully slender figure, glossy dark brown hair, impeccable fashion sense – she had been almost entirely lacking in passion and emotion, with Ian sensing quite clearly that she had simply been going through the motions during their physical encounters.

He hadn’t discussed any of this with Colin, of course. Despite the fact that his younger brother cheerfully shared very intimate details about all of his varied sexual experiences, Ian was extremely closed-mouthed about his own. He’d never been one to brag about his conquests, few of those that there had been, and had rarely availed himself of one of the many women who’d practically thrown themselves at him over the years. He was both old-fashioned and something of a control freak, and preferred to be the one doing the chasing instead of the other way around. The larger part of the problem was that there had been precious few women in his thirty-five years whom he’d ever felt the urge to – well, chase.

The intercom on his office phone buzzed, and he depressed it immediately, knowing it was his PA Andrew Doherty – the only person he’d ever worked with who was possibly more dedicated to his job than Ian himself was.

“Yes, Andrew?” he asked, wishing at times that the young, all-too-serious man in the outer office wasn’t quite so efficient or attentive to detail.

“Just reminding you about your weekly staff meeting, Mr. Gregson,” replied Andrew briskly. “The conference room is all ready for you, sir. Less than ten minutes until the start of the meeting.”

“Thank you, Andrew. I’ll be on my way shortly. I don’t expect this meeting to last very long, especially since we have a full day ahead of us. Which team member will be on hand today?”

“It’s Sarah’s turn, sir. And I’ve already checked to make sure she has everything in order. But please be sure to let me know if there’s a problem, sir. Sarah is not always – well, the most attentive to details. Something I need to address with her immediately.”

Ian gave a tiny smile, thinking that poor Sarah likely did a satisfactory job for the most part, but that living up to Andrew’s extremely high standards was nearly impossible for the average employee to achieve.

“I’m sure it will be fine, but I’ll make a note of anything amiss,” assured Ian.

He set aside the report he’d been reviewing when Colin had called, knowing he would have to finish looking it over after the meeting had concluded. When he was in the office, he made it a point to hold a weekly meeting with his management team, a group of roughly ten or twelve higher level managers who worked here on the executive floor. The Gregson Group leased four floors of this high rise office building in the heart of San Francisco’s Financial District, with the executive quarters on the uppermost of the four.

Each manager had their own PA assigned to them, but there was also a team of a half-dozen administrative assistants to handle special assignments and any overflow from the management staff. The six assistants reported directly to Andrew, and received their assignments from him. One of their duties was to take turns handling the various meetings held here on the executive floor, mostly ensuring that any food and beverage service was set out, that any A/V or other required equipment was on hand, and taking notes or distributing printed materials as necessary.

Ian had little to do with the support team on a daily basis, more than content to leave their supervision to the very capable Andrew. But he always took care to be gracious and appreciative of any work they did for him, and especially at the various meetings that the six of them took turns overseeing. It was not, he acknowledged ruefully, always such an easy task for him, especially when certain team members persisted in their attempts to flirt with him or gain his attention in some other way.

Alicia Spencer was by far the worst offender in that regard. She was certainly a pretty enough young woman, though she reminded Ian of an ice princess with her fair skin, pale blonde hair, and even paler blue eyes. He had never felt even the slightest attraction towards her, especially given the rather haughty airs she put on, and it had been a source of great annoyance to realize that her parents were part of the same social circle that Ian had been welcomed into upon his move to San Francisco. Alicia seemed to think this gave her something of an “in” with him, particularly since she also attended a number of events where he was present.