by Ava Miles
“He is equally eager, dear.” She smiled at the room. “We won’t be a minute. Quinn, you might sit next to Francesca while we’re gone. We Merriams can be overwhelming.”
“I’m not overwhelmed,” Arthur said, making J.T. laugh.
“Oh, for heaven’s sake…” she muttered and walked to the doorway with Alice, who looked over her shoulder and frowned as Quinn took a seat beside an amused Francesca.
Clara indicated for Alice to continue down the hallway, and they stopped outside the kitchen. The young woman was quite tall, something a picture couldn’t properly convey, but Clara simply straightened to her full height and held her own. She let her eyes track to where her brother and sister-in-law were working companionably in the kitchen. She didn’t wish to disturb them—or her chance to speak privately with Alice. “Hargreaves will be here in a moment. Alice, dear, I know you’ve heard we’re here as additional chaperones to make Francesca feel more comfortable around Quinn. The Merriam restructuring is very important to this family.”
Her big brown eyes were serious, her focus intent on Clara’s face, but she remained quiet. After her earlier enthusiasm, Clara understood the young woman knew that a message was being delivered.
“But so too is Quinn’s happiness—and Francesca’s, I might add. I’ve just met her, but it’s obvious they still love each other. I’m hoping we can find a way to give them space to see where that might go while still executing our duties. Do you know what I mean?”
“If you think I’m a pushover for true love, Mrs. Hale, and are trying to undermine my duty to Francesca, please don’t. I follow her guidance on how she wants things to go. I don’t act independently on that score.”
No, she was no pushover. “It’s Clara, and I respect that. You wouldn’t be the admirable assistant I imagine you to be otherwise. But it’s clear they have some things to work out, and I only want you to know our contingent will do our best to aid in that.”
“Understood.” The woman still hadn’t smiled, which was something, for she’d done nothing but until now. “And you need to understand that my loyalty is to Francesca.”
“Yes, I can see you’re as loyal to her as my dear Hargreaves is to me,” she said, spotting him coming down the hallway. “Clifton Hargreaves. Please meet Miss Alice Bailey.”
He nodded with a slight bow. “Miss Bailey. A pleasure.”
“Alice, please, and it’s my pleasure too,” she said, her mouth tipping up in a kind smile. “I hear we have some common interests. I look forward to discussing them. Are you a soufflé or crème brûlée kind of guy, Mr. Hargreaves?”
A butler quiz? Clara was intrigued.
“It’s only Hargreaves, Miss, and if I were pressed, I would say soufflé. You can make it either savory or sweet.”
“Oh, I like that answer,” Alice said, her smile coming out again. “Clara, I would ask you about being a diamonds or rubies kind of lady, but from the ice on your wrists, I already know the answer.”
Ah, so it wasn’t only a butler quiz. “Diamonds are so much more versatile, dear. Not only are they pretty, but you can sell a bauble or two if you’re on the run.”
Alice threw back her head and laughed, prompting Shawn and Assumpta to look over. “On the run! That’s awesome. I’ll have to remember that if I ever need to flee the country.”
Clara couldn’t resist smiling, noting Hargreaves was doing the same.
“Shall we see what Mr. and Mrs. Merriam need to finish brunch?” Alice asked, turning to Hargreaves. “That is, of course, if Clara is finished setting the ground rules.”
The girl had teeth, and Clara respected that. But she was also kind, polite, and funny. They were going to get along fine. “Absolutely, dear. It will be wonderful to get to know you better, and in the course of our time together, who knows what magic we might create?”
“Magic, eh?” Alice grinned. “I love the sound of that. I might have to buy a wand.”
Clara extended her hand to Alice and they shook companionably. “We’ll both buy wands then. Hargreaves will see to it. He’s adept at spreading his own brand of magic.”
“What magic have you worked lately, Hargreaves?” Alice linked her arm through his, and surprisingly he let her as they walked into the kitchen together. Moments later, she heard Alice laugh out loud, and Clara smiled. Hargreaves was ever so witty.
Their assignment was going to be a piece of cake at this rate.
Chapter 8
She’d opened the door but good.
That kiss… It had felt like an earthquake intent on destroying every fortification she’d erected. What good were four chaperones when she’d offered herself up like the tasty sweet he’d fed her?
But God, it had been so hot.
And now she was on her way to his house. She was supposed to live with him for the duration of the project.
“Alice, please pull over at the next viewing area,” she said abruptly. “It’s so lovely along this road.”
Alice shot her a look indicating she knew the view wasn’t what had gotten to her, but she did as instructed, and the view was lovely. The hills were a lush green and blinding to the naked eye before the terrain turned sandy and flat. She loved it here. Oddly, it reminded her of home.
Home. It was the Holy Grail for her.
Feeling at home among his family yesterday had been the aftershock to the earthquake in the kitchen. His parents had been the best of hosts, keeping the conversation light even as Francesca caught them watching her every now and then. By the end, the speculation had left their eyes, and they’d embraced her with genuine warmth, their acceptance touching her deeply.
Seeing Quinn with those he loved had been equally compelling. He’d stayed mostly quiet, letting the others take the lead—Arthur and J.T. telling stories that made everyone laugh, Clara reacting with laughter or playful punches to their arms. They’d all been so at peace with each other, so comfortable. It had been touching to witness it, especially since they’d made such a point of including her. After dessert, Quinn had helped her out of her chair with an easy smile that told her how happy he was to see her getting along with everyone.
But today she could make a new resolution: to keep her mouth and hands away from him until she was more sure of what would happen after they went to bed together. Those details felt more critical than ever to her sense of peace. Making love wasn’t the issue, really. It was what came afterward that worried her.
“Are you ready to drive the rest of the way yet?” Alice asked, tapping the steering wheel like an impatient drummer. “Or are you going to keep stewing about the kiss? I can get out and take some photos if you need more time. Maybe go on a hike or something.”
She managed a brief laugh. “A hike, huh? It’s not that bad.”
“Isn’t it? Stop blaming yourself. So you kissed him. I mean, he’s not my type, but he’s totally delicious. He’s like Everclear ignited on that Greek cheese I love.”
“He’s like flambéed saganaki?” Francesca let out a gusty laugh. “Oh, you and your metaphors.”
“He’s flaming—but…wait, I’m hearing how that sounds. No, he’s volcanic.” She uttered a sound that must have been a volcano exploding, her big-lashed eyes and mouth widening to add to the comedy. “Make sense?”
She couldn’t help but laugh. “Yes. Continue.”
“Anyway, even Clara noticed the way he looks at you. Of course, she also noticed the way you look at him.” She made another explosion sound. “Are you really, really sure you want to move into his house? We could say we changed our minds.”
“No way,” she said, knocking her fists against the tops of her thighs. “That would make too much of it.”
“You do realize his family members aren’t really chaperones, right? I figure it’s a canny ruse to get you to stay with him. Trust me when I say that Clara especially is going to do everything she can to bring you two together. She made that clear yesterday. Hargreaves will follow the straight and narrow, but Arthur—”
>
“Is trouble with a capital T,” Francesca said with a smile. “But he’s absolutely adorable. Smart as a tack too.”
“So is Hargreaves. If I had a grandfather, I’d want him to be Hargreaves. Okay, so we agree they’re all likable. Score one for Quinn. What do you want to do? Because we’ve been sitting in a running car for fifteen minutes and you’ve barely noticed the view.”
“We go.” She took a deep breath. “Once I start working, I’ll be more focused. Yesterday was intense on many levels. I hadn’t expected to be so affected by meeting his family or seeing where he grew up.” But she should have known better, of course.
The house had been filled with photos of the Merriam family at all ages, and when she’d gone to the bathroom, she’d taken a moment to look at a few. His sweet round cheeks as a baby had crushed her, and so had the recent photo of their family at Flynn’s wedding. Quinn’s underlying unhappiness had been evident to her. He was the only one who didn’t have his arm around a partner, and the look in his eyes said he was not just alone but lonely.
“They’re a good group.” Alice nodded emphatically. “I’d like them for friends and neighbors under other circumstances.”
“Oh, you and your friends and neighbors talk,” Francesca said. Alice was a great believer in the power of friendship.
“Family can be hit or miss, and there isn’t much you can do about that. But you get to choose your friends and your neighbors. Surrounding yourself with good ones is the key ingredient to a happy life, with neighbors being the most important since they live next door. You’re my neighbor, and you’re also my best friend.”
“And you’re mine.” Francesca thought about her own family. With no siblings, she’d been sent to boarding school in England at a young age. Her mother had always made her feel loved, but she hadn’t been strong enough to stand up to Francesca’s father. And then she’d died, and the home they’d shared had stopped feeling like a home.
Truthfully, Francesca had always envied what Quinn had. At one time, she’d dreamed about what it would be like to become one of the Merriams when they got married. Over brunch, she’d gotten a vivid glimpse, and it was tantalizing her heart again.
“I have to see this through. I owe him, and more importantly, there still is something between us.”
Alice put the car in gear. “Okay, I’m pulling back onto the road. When we arrive, though, you’re going to have to be clear about my role as chaperone. If I find you in serious lip-lock, am I supposed to barge in and pull him off you or something? Or do you want me to let things…run their course?”
“Lip-lock? Really, Alice.” Her mind flashed back to the look in his eyes as he kissed her. Heated. Loving. A tad scared. But she didn’t think he’d let anyone stop him.
She hoped not.
“You didn’t answer my question.”
“I know.” Her phone chimed, and she picked it up to see the caller ID. “It’s my father.”
She pulled a face, something she’d only done since meeting Alice, who had taught her how.
“We better stay put then,” Alice said, pulling a face as well. “He only calls when—”
“He wants something,” she finished, taking the call. “Hello, Father.”
“Francesca.” His voice was terse, the way it was every time she disappointed him, which was often. “How do you think it makes your papa feel when he hears from another source that you’re working with Quinn Merriam for the next month?”
Her stomach sank. He only called himself her papa when he was about ready to put her on the parental rack of guilt. “Keeping tabs on me still, Father? You know I don’t like that.”
“You’re the daughter of a billionaire, Francesca. I’ve had people keeping tabs on you since you were in swaddling. I knew about the trip to San Francisco, but I didn’t put it together you might be in touch with the Merriams. Personally or professionally.”
“Quinn Merriam asked, and I decided.” She fisted her hand against her stomach. “I don’t run my consultancies by you, Father.”
“No, and the very fact that you’re a consultant instead of vice president of your birthright continues to upset me. You stubbornly refuse to be a part of everything I’ve built for you.”
“The company is yours, Father. I’m not needed. Neither of us were happy, even if you won’t admit it. You run it, and it’s easier for everyone if no one interferes with that. We’ve covered this.”
“And when I die? Francesca, there are forty thousand employees who support Maroun Industries. Those jobs put bread on the table. Now Quinn Merriam is luring you—”
“Luring?” Her voice held an edge. “Father, do I strike you as someone who could be lured by anyone?”
“Certainly not your own father. But a former lover?”
Her breath caught. They’d never spoken about Quinn. He’d never asked her, specifically, about her personal relationships. He disapproved of all of them on principle—because they weren’t his choices. He’d tried to introduce her to “a man of good standing” when she was eighteen. She had made sure that disaster was not repeated.
But of course he’d known about Quinn. He made a point of knowing everything. “That’s my personal life. It has nothing to do with business.”
“It does if he’s trying to lure you to his flagging company on the memories of a summer fling.”
“It wasn’t a summer fling, Father.”
“Oh, boy,” Alice muttered, turning the car off.
“Of course it wasn’t, which is why I approached him and told him to leave you alone.”
Her shock caused her to knock her knee against the glove box. How come Quinn had never told her? “Clearly that didn’t go your way,” she guessed.
His rude noise confirmed it. “His outright refusal might have earned him my respect except for the fact that he’s not the man for you. You need to marry someone who understands you.”
Oh, God, not this again. “A good Lebanese man?”
“After all this time, I could likely approve of a cultured European as well. If the man’s from a good family, of course.”
“Of course. Father, you know this discussion is pointless.”
“You’re already too long without a husband. People talk about you, and about me too. They wonder what kind of a man could let his daughter be without a husband and children and a good home. I know your mother died—”
“It wouldn’t have changed my views.” She gripped the phone. “Father, this conversation is tiring. I’ve told you. I live my own life. Make my own decisions.”
“Certainly make your own money. You won’t let me support my only child. Why else do I work so hard except to take care of my family?”
She reminded herself of her New Year’s resolution to make peace with him. At the moment, she wanted to chuck it out the window. “Father, I love you, but we’ll never agree on this.”
He went silent a moment. “Merriam Enterprises is going down, Francesca. One gust of wind and they’re sunk. Not even you can stop it.”
“You won’t touch them, Father.” Her stomach quivered.
“I wouldn’t be that ruthless. Besides, you would never forgive me. But you do your consultancy and see for yourself. You’re planning on restructuring the company around oil, correct?”
“Father, you know that’s confidential.”
He made another rude noise. “It’s the wise play—on paper. Return to their roots and lock in on an industry that never loses money. Only, for reasons I can’t divulge, I’m telling you: don’t make this play.”
Silence radiated over the line as her mind raced. Why not? The oil industry was tempestuous, but the world depended on it.
Of course, she’d seen the drop in oil prices when she’d done her morning industry research. Concerns about China’s pneumonia-like virus were spooking some investors. Chinese officials had confirmed yesterday that they now had nearly three thousand cases, and the virus had spread from the city of Wuhan to Beijing, Shanghai, Macao, a
nd Hong Kong.
“Are you warning me because of the virus in China?” she asked.
His grunt was audible. “The infected are a drop in the ocean in a country with over a billion and a half people. They’ll lock it down. Saudi Arabia’s Energy Minister made a similar statement, but did the market listen? No, it’s like a chicken in a henhouse sometimes, bawking at the tiniest noise.”
He hadn’t completely answered her question. Surely he wasn’t misleading her as a way of causing conflict with Quinn. “You’ll have to give me more, Father.”
He sighed. “Can you not trust your papa this once?”
Papa again. After what he’d admitted, she couldn’t do anything but call his motives into question. Plus, how was she supposed to explain any other play to Quinn? He knew it was the best plan to save Merriam Enterprises as much as she did. Everyone did. The devil was in the details. That’s where others fell down and she excelled. “I’m sorry to say no, Father.”
“Then I have truly failed you as a father, and I’m sorry for that.”
Her heart squeezed. “Father, I’m sorry too. I want peace between us.”
“Peace! What is peace? Even now our country faces tremendous trouble and hardship. I thrive on adversity, but you have forgotten your roots and gone soft. Do not let your feelings for this man cloud your judgment. Merriam Enterprises has had poor leadership since their father retired, and the brothers have run a good legacy into the ground. I don’t plan for that to happen to Maroun Industries. As my daughter, I’m trusting you’ll do what you’ve always been meant to do. People are depending on you, and so am I. Now more than ever.”
The call ended, and she clenched her eyes shut as hurt and anger wrapped her up like a hot scratchy blanket.
“Breathe,” Alice said in her Zen voice.
“He makes me madder than— Do you know what he said?”
“I have an idea after seeing you two go round after round on our last trip to Beirut. Anything new?”
She threw her phone into her purse and turned in her seat. Leaving out his nebulous entreaty regarding oil, she said, “Apparently, back in London, he spoke to Quinn and asked him to leave me alone.”
