Raymond paused, considering his words carefully. The question was more thoughtful than he'd expected, and he found himself wanting to give an honest answer rather than corporate speak.
"Honestly? I want to create something that matters. Not just another shopping center with the same chain stores, but a place where the community actually wants to spend time."
"Somewhere that enhances people's lives rather than just extracting money from their wallets." He paused, surprised by his own sincerity. "What do you think? Too idealistic?"
"Not at all," Diana replied thoughtfully, leaning back in her chair.
The conversation continued for another hour, covering everything from architectural philosophy to local traffic patterns.
Raymond found himself genuinely liking his team. He not only respected their competence, but he actually enjoyed their company.
By six o'clock, Raymond was saying goodbye to Nelson outside his new house, a stunning beachfront property that exceeded even his high expectations.
"Your father really outdid himself with this place," Nelson observed, looking around appreciatively at the seamless blend of luxury and functionality.
"Private beach, swimming pool, home office with harbor views—you could run a small country from here."
"He always had good taste in real estate. Thanks for today, Nelson. The team introduction went better than I'd hoped." Ray said amazed.
"They're good people, Mr. Sterling. Treat them well, and they'll follow you anywhere."
After Nelson left, Raymond explored the house properly, still amazed by the attention to detail. The master bedroom had a perfect view of the water and a balcony large enough for morning coffee.
The kitchen was fully equipped but never ostentatious. And yes, there was a beautiful pool that seemed to blend seamlessly into the ocean horizon.
His phone buzzed with a video call from home at exactly seven-thirty. His mother's worried face filled the screen immediately, right on schedule.
"Raymond! How was your first day? Are you eating properly? That house isn't too isolated, is it? You know I worry about you being so far from family."
"Mom, I'm fine. The team is great, the house is perfect, and yes, I ate a full meal. A very expensive full meal."
"Good, good. Your father wants to know about the staff situation."
His father's voice came from off-screen, probably reading something while talking: "Diana Patel's resume was impressive. Smart hire by the local recruitment team."
"She definitely knows her stuff," Raymond agreed. "Sharp, experienced, and the whole team respects her. I think we've got a strong foundation here."
They chatted for another twenty minutes, his mother asking about everything from the climate to whether he'd packed enough warm clothes.
His father occasionally chimed in with practical questions about logistics and local government relations.
Finally, after multiple attempts to end the call, his mother let him go, satisfied that he was settling in well and not completely helpless without family supervision.
Later that evening, Raymond found himself at his laptop in the home office, ostensibly planning tomorrow's strategy session, but actually researching Luna.
Her professional achievements were genuinely impressive. She'd doubled investor returns on three consecutive projects in California, earning her recognition in Forbes and the nickname "The Ice Tigress" in several business publications.
"The Mysterious Smile," one headline read. "No one has ever seen Luna Blackthorne let her guard down in business."
Raymond scrolled through professional headshots—Luna in sharp business suits, her expression cold and calculating, every inch the corporate warrior.
But sitting here alone, he couldn't reconcile these images with the woman who had laughed genuinely on the airplane, whose eyes had softened when they'd talked about their college days.
The articles mentioned persistent rumors about a college romance gone wrong, suggesting it had turned her into the ice queen the business world knew today. Raymond knew better.
It wasn't a broken heart that had changed her; it was Daniel's death, the same trauma that had sent him spiraling into his playboy phase while she'd retreated behind walls of professional perfection.
"She's not cold," he thought, closing the laptop and walking out to the pool deck. "She's protecting herself."
The irony wasn't lost on him. Tomorrow he was supposed to start strategizing ways to outmaneuver her, to crush her project before it gained momentum, to prove himself worthy of his grandfather's empire.
But standing here in the quiet night, listening to the gentle rhythm of waves, all he could think about was the girl who used to wink at him after acing her exams, who had shared her notes when he struggled with advanced economics, who had been the only person who truly understood his competitive drive because she shared it.
"Focus, Ray," he told himself. "She's the competition. Act like it."
But as he headed to bed, he couldn't shake the image of Luna's genuine smile from the airplane, or the way she'd looked almost vulnerable when she'd mentioned Daniel's name.