Romancing the Rough Diamond

by Clare London

  “IT won’t do. None of them will do.”

  Joel heard the sharp edge in his voice echo off the stark walls of the Starsmith boardroom. But he didn’t—couldn’t—care. His team had been furrowing through Starsmith’s existing design portfolio for a week now and yet were no nearer inspiration for Project Palace.

  The official announcement that Starsmith Stones would be the designer of choice for the royal wedding wouldn’t be made for another couple of weeks, although there was speculation in the media already. That would be the start of public frenzy, high excitement, and fierce expectation of the Project Palace team. This was of course the most important deal Starsmith had ever struck, but Joel was keeping the planning team a minimum at the moment. Partly from the need for confidentiality, but also because he hoped to keep them sheltered from scrutiny and stress for as long as possible. Working on their plans for the palace was enough to cope with for now.

  The head of design, Addam de Broek, a buoyant young black man who wore designer suits that were always slightly too eccentric for the city, gave a theatrical sigh and threw himself back in his chair. “Dammit, Joel. That’s all we have on the books. And I’m proud of my designers’ work, I’ll have you know.” The lock of red hair he sported among his black curls flopped over his forehead with his exaggerated performance. “They won us a 2014 industry award with our Rose Collection, and the Constable Collection the year after. And the diamond necklaces in the Jubilee Collection of 2012? They’re still selling now.”

  He didn’t have to say “and that was before you even joined us” for Joel to understand the rebuke. Starsmith had a long-established and celebrated reputation for fine, elegant jewelry.

  “I want something even more special for this commission.” Joel ran his hand over the drawings on the large table. The boardroom was the most spacious in their offices, and he’d commandeered it for the duration of Project Palace. Paper and glossy photos covered almost all the surface. “Something that’s never been shown before. Something unique.”

  The two representatives from marketing, Lily and Freddie, who were almost interchangeable with their pale, aristocratic features and white-blond hair, took slurps in tandem from their coffees.

  “Whilst I can appreciate the strength of something totally new—” Lily began.

  “—as, indeed, is the essence of this whole wedding event—” Freddie added, beginning their familiar back-and-forth conversational style.

  “—there is a certain expectation from the market as regards the firm’s brand—”

  “—and from the Royal Family themselves.”

  Joel nodded, but he was being polite rather than agreeing. “I know that. I’ve read the official palace brief, as have we all. However, that doesn’t mean we can’t create a collection that marks the need for British royal style and taste but will also be astonishing in its ageless beauty. In its majesty.” He all but stumbled on the last few words. He realized he was channeling something that had been said to him only a week ago—Matt’s fierce, shining eyes, his forceful opinion, the taste of his mouth—and it raised a disturbing, almost physical excitement.

  Teresa touched his arm gently in support. “What’s the deadline from the palace?”

  Joel bit his lip. “They’ve asked for preliminary designs a month after the official announcement. They’ll also want the prince and Mr. Astra to give their personal approval at critical stages of the process.”

  “Yay!” came an uninhibited response from Lily or Freddie—Joel wasn’t sure which; they often sounded exactly the same. They were the most enthusiastic and well-connected promotional team he’d ever known, but they seemed to work as a hive mind.

  A knock on the closed boardroom door distracted Teresa. She listened to a muttered message from one of the reception staff in the corridor, then came back to Joel’s side.

  “There’s someone downstairs asking to see the design team. Says he had a call from Addam?” She frowned. “Silly boy at the desk didn’t take a name.”

  Addam swung himself quickly out of his chair, his eyes lighting up. “Is it one of the freelance designers I called?”

  “You’ve called at least twenty in the last week,” Teresa said with a smile to take the sting out of her words. “Why would any of them respond, when you haven’t been able to confirm what the collaboration is?”

  “Because they should welcome adventure!” Addam waved his hand dismissively, grinning widely by now. “Okay, so I haven’t had an expression of interest from any of them so far, like Teresa says. But if it’s the one guy I haven’t heard back from at all until now…. God, this could be the best news of the lot!”

  “What’s so special about him?”

  Addam rushed on, delight all over his face. “I wasn’t sure he was still in the business, to be honest. I haven’t seen anything new from him for ages. He’s only ever worked for his family’s firm, mind you, and they’ve been in the financial doldrums for a while.”

  One of Joel’s business development assistants broke in. “Are you talking about Barth? Matthew Barth?”

  Everyone turned to look at him. Rafe wasn’t one of Joel’s hires—he’d joined Starsmith just before Joel did—and Joel was still reserving judgment about him. Rafe was very attractive, very charming, but very arrogant with it. His client success rate was high, but Joel had a suspicion that Rafe had cut a few corners to get there. Joel had never liked clients being railroaded just to get them on board.

  “Yeah,” Addam said. “Do you remember that marvelous Egyptian Anubis Collection he designed?”

  “That was years ago,” Rafe muttered, shaking his head.

  “It was superb.” Joel remembered it in the trade magazines. It had even been referenced at the British Museum.

  “It remains one of the best things I’ve ever seen,” Addam said with spirit. “The way he fashioned the metal, in the smallest forms, to represent the Egyptian jackal god? I’ve rarely seen anyone with such talent in balancing the old with the new. He’d followed the lines of ancient charms and talismans, the items that people of those times would have found precious. Yet he gave it a sophisticated gloss, using modern production processes.” Addam gave another exaggerated sigh and clasped a hand to his heart. “Some of the pieces looked alive, they flowed so strongly with life and lust.”

  Teresa raised her eyebrows, smiling at Addam’s enthusiasm. “Lust?”

  “Hey.” Addam wasn’t insulted; his self-confidence rarely was. “Some guys have got to get their kicks where they can. Joel, consider this man seriously. He worked in gold, which is just what we’re looking for. And with an eye for the unusual. Though knowing the reactionaries still running a large proportion of the Guild, that’s probably why he never made it into the big time.”

  Rafe snorted. “That, and his attitude problem.”

  Joel turned to him. “What do you mean?”

  Rafe shrugged. “I’ve heard he’s a loose cannon. Aggressive, arrogant. It’s not that he resists working with anyone outside of his family firm—it’s more likely no one will put up with his behavior.”

  “I’ve heard that,” Freddie said, with some reluctance.

  “Yes, Digby told me too.” Lily’s fiancé, Digby, also worked for Starsmith in business development and had many contacts in the trade. “He worked on a joint venture initiative—”

  “—at Cavendish Gems, yes, I remember,” Freddie continued. “After the Anubis Collection, they approached Matthew Barth to provide some designs, but he turned down what was a golden opportunity. He—”

  “—could barely be civil, Digby told me,” Lily finished with a wry smile.

  “I wouldn’t work with him if you paid me,” Rafe said.

  “Which, in fact, I do,” Joel murmured.

  Rafe flushed and pursed his lips.

  “He’s such a superb talent,” Addam wheedled, eyes on Joel.

  “He’s not a team player,” Rafe countered.

  “Joel?” Teresa gave a small, almost apologetic sigh.
“It was Matthew Barth we had the acquisition problems with.”

  And that was something more serious than artistic differences. “Remind me?”

  “It was his father’s business. Desmond Barth pushed on the price right up until the last minute before closure. The legal department were at the end of their tether. And I’m pretty sure it was the son who was behind all the wrangling. Barth senior wanted all kinds of extra provisions written into the contract before he’d sign. Admittedly, they were provisions for staff benefits and honoring contracts, so there was justification and care behind it—”

  Rafe broke in, “They already had the best deal they could’ve got anywhere. I wrote up the proposal myself. The company was failing, no assets to speak of, the brand was worth virtually nothing—”

  “I seem to remember the Barth goodwill was the reason we were interested in the first place,” Joel said, quietly but firmly.

  Rafe flushed. “Yes. Well. Maybe it had some value to us. But the son was grit in the corporate eye when we came to sign. Seems to me there’s a risk of sabotage, bringing him onto the team.”

  Teresa gave a disbelieving laugh. “Sabotage?”

  Rafe glared at her. “I’m out there on a daily basis, battling our competitors for the best deals, listening for the passing comments that can lead to a new opportunity. I’ve heard Matthew Barth has been bad-mouthing Starsmith to anyone who’ll listen.”

  “He has a point, Joel,” Lily said. “Matthew Barth never made any secret of his hostility toward Starsmith. It wasn’t an easy negotiation, from what I heard. Not that we ever spoke of it outside the office—”

  “—or the team couldn’t handle it,” Freddie added helpfully, his cheeks slightly pink, obviously at the thought of Lily showing weakness to her ruthless boss.

  “—but Digby did mention that Mr. Barth junior was obstructive in the extreme,” Lily finished.

  Joel sighed. What was he to do with this mess of contradictions? Starsmith made no excuse for an aggressive acquisition strategy. It had been supported and cultivated by Joel, who was determined to make the company one of the largest and best. There were always personal problems with a takeover, above and beyond the financial due diligence. But Joel couldn’t afford for that to spill over into Project Palace.

  “Joel? Give him a chance,” Addam said.

  Joel took a deep breath and nodded slowly. He turned to Teresa. “Please ask for Mr. Barth to be shown up.”

  While the others were gathering up the photos and plans and filing them back into confidential folders, he went to the refreshment counter at the back of the room. Something about Rafe’s character assassination of the Barth son had disturbed him beyond the actual words spoken.

  Facing the water cooler, watching the water bubbles pop and glug as he poured himself a fresh glass, he heard Teresa bring someone into the room. His nape prickled, and he wasn’t entirely sure why. Addam rushed across the room behind Joel to greet the newcomer, his expensive cologne in his wake.

  “Matthew! I’m so glad you agreed to come and meet us.”

  The visitor cleared his throat. “You won’t be when you’ve heard what I’ve got to say.”

  Joel stilled at the man’s harsh words, the shock coursing through him like a lightning bolt. He was still staring at the cooler, but his eyes weren’t focusing.

  “Um.” Addam was obviously taken aback but rallied quickly. “Well, I hope you take time to listen to what we have on offer—”

  “Like you listened when you stole my father’s business?” The voice was loud, the words clipped and brutally delivered. “When you made us fight to the back teeth for every decent counterproposal, when you bullied him into selling to you at a price that was ludicrously lower than a decent market value? When you drove him to near collapse a week ago?”

  “Hey,” Addam blustered. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, but that’s not my area—”

  “No.” Joel turned. “It’s mine, actually.”

  The room fell suddenly silent. No one could have realized the true shock of this moment, but Joel was surprised they couldn’t hear his heart beating, fit to burst through his chest. Matt stood there, facing up to Joel and his team in a much smarter suit but with the same tousled hair and expressive face. His whole body had gone taut.

  “You?” His eyes widened as he saw Joel, and his face flushed. “Shit!”

  “Yes. Me.” Joel swallowed carefully to make sure his voice was calm. “Good afternoon, Mr. Barth. I’m Joel Sterling, CEO of Starsmith Stones. I’m pleased to meet you… today.”

  He didn’t need to have paused before that last word, but it gave him a moment to take everything in. Matthew Barth was Matt. Matt, who’d made Joel laugh and feel giddy. Who’d shared a kiss that had tormented Joel for many nights since. Matt, whom Joel had never got to ask for a proper date, who’d never stayed around to spend more time with Joel.

  And now a small, suspicious voice whispered in Joel’s mind. Why had Matt rushed off that night? Was it because he’d given up on his real reason for being there? That he’d actually been trying to find out about Project Palace from a temporarily relaxed Joel? But why would he do that….

  Seems to me, there’s a risk of sabotage, bringing him onto the team.

  He was grit in the corporate eye when we came to sign.

  Matt couldn’t have heard Teresa’s phone call that evening about the royal commission. But Joel knew how their business worked, knew that the grapevine said Starsmith was in the running. Even if Matt hadn’t known who Joel was, it would have been easy enough to ask around who was attending from Starsmith, then to waylay him in the bar and try to get more information. Barth Gems hadn’t been one of the firms being considered by the palace, but that wasn’t to say they couldn’t cause real reputational damage for Starsmith if they wanted to be malicious. If they wanted revenge for the takeover.

  He’s never made any secret of his hostility toward Starsmith.

  Joel met Matt’s gaze steadily, but the anger and shock were vivid in Matt’s eyes. And so was something else.

  Hate.

  Chapter Four

  MATT wondered if his lungs were ever going to kick back into action, just before they did. He drew a deep breath, but it didn’t calm the fury inside him. After the initial shock, he was frozen to the spot, feeling it course through him.

  Joe? Joe was Joel Sterling? Matt knew the big names in Starsmith, of course, though he’d never met any of them except for the pushy, in-your-face, up-their-own-arse salesmen during the negotiations for the takeover of Barth Gems.

  And he’d hated them and everything they stood for.

  “Please leave the room, everyone,” Joel Sterling said, breaking the weird silence. His voice sounded strained. “I’d like to talk to Mr. Barth alone.”

  Matt hadn’t had time to take in the other people. The friendly assistant he’d met at the door was looking concerned, her gaze darting between the two men. Jesus. He knew how that felt. No one said a word, but the tension in the room was like a thick elastic thread drawn tight between him and Joe. No, Joel. The two blonds who looked like twins had eyes like wide, sapphire-blue saucers, and a slickly handsome man at Joel’s elbow looked both confused and sly.

  “You sure, Joel?” The striking black man who’d greeted Matt stood close to his boss. Matt knew Addam de Broek’s name from trade gossip when Matt was still working at Barth Gems. The designer was wonderfully extroverted and interviewed well, but he also had a genuine, underlying passion for the industry. Matt had no interest whatsoever in following personalities in the news, but he’d seen many of Addam’s designs. They were true quality.

  “It’s fine.” Joel nodded to Addam, and everyone slowly filed out of the room. They all peered at Matt, either overtly or surreptitiously, each of them obviously itching with curiosity.

  Let ’em itch. Matt stood exactly where he’d started, staring at Joel.

  There was a too-long, awkward pause. Then, “Would you like coffee? Water?
” Joel asked.

  “I’d like to know what the fuck is going on!” Matt said, the words bursting from him.

  He hadn’t wanted to come along to Starsmith today. Jesus, but hadn’t those instincts proved him right? The call had come from Addam a couple of days ago, and unluckily, Dad had taken it. Otherwise, Matt could have ignored the whole bloody thing. But Dad had been almost as upset at worrying the family with his health scare as he had been at losing his business, and they’d all been stepping on eggshells around him ever since.

  “You must go down to London and meet them,” Dad had said over breakfast. He often chose times when Matt was distracted by eating to bring up contentious subjects, crafty old bugger. “It could be an offer of a job.”

  “No time for that crap. I’m looking after you,” Matt said. “It may have been only a panic attack, but the stress is obviously getting to you.”

  His dad had winced. “I don’t need a bloody nurse.”

  Matt often wondered where his own stubborn and borderline aggressive streak came from, and then he would look at his dad and the mystery was solved. “Besides, why the hell would I want to work with Starsmith? They’re the bastards who stole your company, Dad. They’re the ones left you with nothing—”

  “That’s not exactly true, son.”

  “—and ripped the heart out of our lives, all for the sake of profit. How much do you think will be left of the Barth portfolio by the time they’ve finished absorbing us into their hive mind?” His dad had laughed at that, until he caught Matt’s expression and got serious again. “All our history brushed aside. And you….”

  “Me?” his dad said quietly, his plate of toast and marmalade forgotten for the moment.

  Matt sighed and pushed his own plate away. He’d lost his appetite completely. “I just hate seeing you pushed out, Dad. Bullied by a big corporation into giving up what you love.”

  His dad’s tone had been gentler than the words. “Who the hell do you think I am? That I’d let myself be bullied by some whippersnappers in a smart city firm? Yes, I know you were just trying to help with all that arguing at the last minute, and you won protection for our staff and suppliers for longer than I’d ever expected. But there’s much more to it, Matt. As you’d know if you’d stayed in the business rather than riding on your own outrage. The decision to sell was mine, son. I always knew you didn’t want to be involved in the daily management of the firm—”