Give a Little (18 page)

“Because life likes to play cruel jokes.” She tried to jerk her arm away.

Luca held firm, taking a step closer. “Because we’re connected in every way. Because we’re meant to be. Our partnership is meant to be.”

Longing filled her heart, expanding it so full she was afraid it’d burst. She wanted to believe him. But how could she trust it? How could she trust herself to know that this was real?

“You don’t believe me.” Letting go of her, he stepped back and spat something in Italian. “After all I’ve said, after all I’ve done, you don’t believe me.”

Her arm burned where he let go—an inverse of the cold she felt grip her heart as the finality of his tone sank in.

Only her heart was unreliable.
She
knew what was good for herself, and a partnership with Luca Fiorelli wasn’t it, no matter how much she wished it otherwise. “This was a mistake.” She picked up her purse and coat, holding them pressed to her chest, afraid that the pain inside was her heart breaking.

“What? Spending a week with me, or being interested in the company?”

“Both.” She adjusted her scarf around her neck and went toward the door.

“You can’t just leave,” he called after her. “This deal was more important than anything just days ago.”

“It had been.” Hand on the doorknob, she looked at him. “But now the terms have changed and I find it less desirable. Sometimes it’s better to cut and run.”

“A coward, Beatrice? I wouldn’t have figured you for it.” His voice was cold, and her name sounded like a curse. “You’re allowing your father to run your life from the grave.”

She didn’t have to listen to him—to this. She turned the handle to open the door.

“
I do love nothing in the world so well as you: is that not strange?
” he said.

Her heart stopped beating. She whirled to face him. “You’re quoting
Much Ado About Nothing
?”

“Is that all you heard?” He waved to the door. “Then maybe it’s best that you leave.”

That was the thing—part of her didn’t want to.

Except she had to, didn’t she? She didn’t cater to men, and Luca was just another man who’d want her to be something different than what she was.

She clutched her bag, doubting that—doubting herself. Inside, a small voice whispered that maybe Luca was the exception she’d been waiting for.

Was he? She couldn’t trust herself to know. She shook her head, crumpling under the weight of the hurt in his eyes. Turning, she fled the conference room. She needed space to think.

The other two men were huddled across the hallway, speaking in quiet tones. When Jeff saw her, he called out. “Beatrice.”

She tried to smile at him as she continued toward the lobby. “I’m sorry to rush off. I must catch my flight.”

“Of course. The driver’s waiting outside.” He hurried alongside her, to escort her out. “I’m sorry your visit was cut short. Please call me with any questions you have about the company, and we will of course be happy to assist in any due diligence you need to do to aid you in your decision to invest.”

“Thank you.” She wasn’t going to invest. Marcus could invest in this one on his own. Or she’d let Fraser take it, even if the thought was sour. In any case, Stallon-E wasn’t going to be without money; she knew that without a doubt.

When they reached the car, she turned and shook his hand. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Jeff.”

“The pleasure was mine.” His brow furrowed. “Do you mind if I ask … Are you okay?”

She wanted to laugh and cry at once. But she never cried, and this man didn’t deserve her laughing in his face, so she forced herself to smile. “I’m as perfect as ever,” she lied.

“You and Jasmine have become quite an item,” Finn said as he set the plates on the table.

Rowdy perked up from his spot at the counter where Viola was dishing up the pasta. “Has she mentioned me? What did she say?”

Chloe whacked him with a small stack of napkins. “You’re such a girl sometimes.”

“I’ve got a tutu and I’m not afraid to flaunt it.” He pulled her hair, then he lasered in on Finn. “Well? What did Jasmine say?”

“It’s not what she said.” He handed the silverware to Chloe. “It’s that all her Facebook posts have been about you.”

Rowdy and Viola looked at each other. She shook her head as she handed him the platter of spaghetti. “Don’t do it, Rowdy.”

“Do what?” Finn asked.

“He’s thinking of cyberstalking her,” the teenager said.

Rowdy set the dish in the center of the table. “Would it really be cyberstalking, or just research?”

Chloe nodded. “Good point.”

Vi turned to Finn. “We’re sending the next girl to a nunnery to be raised properly.”

“I’m proper,” the teenager mumbled, taking a seat at the table.

“Not even I’m commenting on that,” Rowdy said as he sat next to her.

Finn pulled out a chair for Vi, who sank into it gratefully. She waved to the food. “Chloe, you start so Rowdy can tell us what’s going on with Jasmine.”

The teenager patted his arm, giving him a commiserating look. “Don’t worry, I’ll leave some for you.”

“It’s not that bad, kid.” He faced Vi and Finn, but mostly Finn, because he was Jasmine’s best friend. “When I look at Jasmine, everything is possible.”

“Oh.” Sniffling, Vi picked up her napkin. “That’s so sweet.”

Finn and Chloe rolled their eyes at each other. “Hormones,” the teenager said as explanation under her breath.

“I heard that.” Vi blotted her eyes. “Rowdy, has Jasmine told you she loves you?”

Finn shifted next to her.

His wife faced him. “What?”

He shook his head, accepting the utensils for the pasta from Chloe.

Rowdy pursed his lips. “Just go ahead and say it. If you don’t approve of me, I’d like to know straight off.”

“Don’t be silly. Of course Finn approves of you.” Then Vi frowned. “Don’t you, Finn?”

“It’s not Rowdy who’s the questionable one.” The man winced as he served pasta to his wife. “I love Jasmine. I’ve known her forever, which makes me particularly qualified to say that she’s hell on men. In fact, I don’t know that she’s had a serious relationship since she was eighteen.”

“With that boy in the village.” Rowdy nodded.

Finn froze with his fork halfway to his mouth. “You know about him?”

“She told me.” He speared the other man with a knowing look. “And about what her father did.”

“Her father is possibly more of a wanker than yours, Chloe.” Finn smiled at his wife as he took a bite of pasta.

Vi passed her husband the dish. “The fact that she told Rowdy about the boy has to mean something.”

“Sure.” Finn nodded. “But with Jasmine you never know what.”

“I like that she’s unpredictable,” Rowdy declared.

The other man shook his head. “She’s more than unpredictable. She’s on a warpath with her father, and she’ll use any means to punish him.”

Rowdy took a bite of pasta, thinking about John Hayes and the look of distaste on his face when they’d met. But he hadn’t known the score then, and he had a winning personality. He’d win the man over.

Reaching across the table, Vi put a hand on his arm. “I, for one, love Jasmine. I think it’s a brilliant match.”

“That’s why you’re my favorite, while these two”—he waved his fork at Finn and Chloe—“I have doubts about.”

Both Finn and the teenager snorted.

Vi smiled happily. “Yes, but they’re awfully cute.”

“Which is why you should keep them,” Rowdy said. Just like he planned on keeping Jasmine.

Jasmine had told him that the event was an engagement party for a friend of her family’s, so the last thing Rowdy was expecting was a couple hundred people milling around.

“You aren’t in Kansas anymore,” he said to himself, smiling at a couple who eyed him curiously. Good thing he wore a suit. He tugged his collar straight and headed into the fray looking for Jasmine.

It didn’t take as long to find her as he might have expected with so many people there. He homed in on her right away. It was hard to miss her in the shimmery gold dress she wore.

She was stunning. Humming appreciatively, he made a beeline to her, but halfway there a hand on his arm stopped him. Turning, he blinked when he saw it was her father.

This was his chance. He smiled warmly and offered his hand to John Hayes. “It’s good to see you, sir.”

“I’m sure it is.” The man glared at him. “How much?”

Rowdy shook his head. “How much, what?”

“How much money to leave her alone?” Hayes eyed him knowingly. “Don’t bother looking at me like that. I know you have a price.”

“My only
price
, if you insist on calling it that, is Jasmine’s happiness.”

The man lifted his drink to his lips, turning to frown at Jasmine. “I know what she’s doing.”

“What is she doing?” Rowdy asked.

“She has a history of dating inappropriate men.” He turned the frown onto Rowdy. “I know she’s doing this to goad me. Every gushing Facebook post is aimed straight at my wallet.”

That wasn’t Jasmine, and he felt sorry for the man that he felt that way. “What if she’s dating me because she likes me?”

“I know my daughter,” Hayes said in flat pragmatism. “She only likes herself. I know that sounds brutal, but it’s how she is. It’s our fault. She’s our only child, so we spoiled her, and now we have to live with the consequences.”

Rowdy stuck his hands in his pockets to keep from strangling sense into the dude. “That’s a rather harsh assessment.”

“The truth is hard to face.”

“With all due respect, sir, I don’t think you know your daughter.”

“And you think you do?” Hayes said with a skeptical lift of his brow.

“Yeah, actually.” He faced the man head-on. “If you’d talk to her and really listen, you’d see she’s not who you think she is.”

“I know exactly who she is. She’s my daughter.” Hayes glared at him. “So what will it take for you to leave?”

“I’m not going anywhere.” He stared straight at the man so he’d know he meant it.

“Let’s not pretend here. I know she looks like a catch, but she’ll be less desirable if I cut her inheritance.”

He gaped at the man, blown away, but then he saw the truth: This was a man genuinely concerned for his daughter. His methods were just bad—he didn’t have the right tools in his toolbox to handle the situation.

A guy couldn’t fault another man for caring for his family, even if the way he did it wasn’t right. So he took a deep breath and tried logic. “It seems like cutting your only daughter from her livelihood is cruel, especially if she’s in love.”

Hayes barked a laughed. “She’s not in love with you. She’s using you. I’ve been through this with her before.”

“Yeah, she told me.”

The man did a double take. “She did?”

“Well, yeah.” Didn’t he understand how relationships worked? “We’re friends.”

“Friends?” Hayes repeated, as if the concept was foreign.

“Where I’ve got her back, and she’s got mine.” Rowdy met the man’s gaze. “Let me be honest here, sir. I don’t want your money.”

“Everyone wants money. Especially Jasmine. She knows that unless I approve of her choice of mate her inheritance will be cut. So she’ll never choose you.”

He shook his head. “Let’s try this again. I really like your daughter, the kind of like that transcends money and goods, where I can see being with her for a long time, which is saying something because, you’re right. She’s a brat. But I like her for her faults, so even that’s not a deal breaker. Now if you’ll excuse me.”

He walked off in the wrong direction, so he stopped by the bar as though he’d meant to do that. He got a beer because he figured the cold would calm him.

“Hello there.”

He turned as she sidled up to him and snaked her arm around his waist. She pressed herself to him and kissed his cheek. It’d have been very proper except that she slipped her leg between his.

He wanted to enjoy it, but he was still agitated. “Your father said that you’re going out with me to annoy him, and he just tried to pay me off. Can you believe it?”

“And what’d you say?” she asked seriously.

He untwined her from him. “What do you mean?”

She shrugged, raising her champagne to her lips. “Are you waiting for him to offer more? Because he probably will, if you hold out.”

“Why are you saying this? I don’t want his money. I admit it’d be nice to have his blessing—”

“He’d never give that,” she said in the same flat, pragmatic tone her father had used. “Daddy won’t approve of any man I pretend to like.”

“Pretend to like,” Rowdy repeated, stepping back.

“If you take his offer, you’ll have money for your equipment, free and clear.” Jasmine smiled politely at a couple who sauntered by. “You won’t have to wait for the will to process.”

“
Pretend to like?
” he repeated again, scowling. “
Are
you just using me to get to him?”

She shrugged again, not looking at him. “Of course I was hoping to upset him. He deserves it.”

“No, he doesn’t.”

“
Shh.
” She forced her lips into a tight smile. “You’re attracting attention.”

“I don’t care what other people think, Jasmine. I care about you.” He took her arm and lowered his voice, even though he wanted to scream. “The question here is, do you care about me, too, or am I just today’s boy-toy to upset your father?”

Tossing her hair over her shoulders, she gave him a brittle smile. “What do you think?”

He studied her. His heart hurt so much it was hard to think anything. Except for one thing. “I think I’m disappointed in you.”

She recoiled as though he’d slapped her. “Sorry?”

“I just defended you to your father”—he stabbed a finger behind him—“and you’re standing here playing me. I
care
about you, and you’re telling me I should ask your dad for more money? How screwed up is that?”

Eyes wide, she gaped at him. “I just—”

“No.” He crossed his arms. “Do you really think I’m going to trust anything that comes out of your mouth right now? You just told me that you were pretending to like me.”

She reached for him. “I didn’t mean—”

“I think you did,” he said, stepping out of her grasp. Nodding, he set his beer on the bar top. “You’re better than what your father makes you out to be. Maybe it’s time to stop living down to his expectations.”