The Antonides Marriage Deal

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The Antonides Marriage Deal Page 17

by Anne McAllister


  “Then answer me, damn it. I got the report Elias sent. I’m concerned about the profits.”

  “Um…” Tallie fumbled with the papers on her desk.

  Report? Elias had sent a report? Yes, she guessed he had. She had mentioned her father wanting one and obviously he’d sent one. Responsible Elias.

  Irresponsible Tallie. Foolish Tallie. Blind, idiotic Tallie.

  And none of those Tallies was in the least interested in talking business with her father this morning. She couldn’t even think about it.

  All she could think about was Elias—and that somehow she had fallen in love with him.

  “The overall profits of Antonides Marine were flat last quarter, you know,” Socrates went on.

  It hadn’t happened in a blinding flash the way it had with Brian. They had seen each other across the proverbial crowded room. They had walked toward each other as if destiny was pulling them together. They had smiled. They had spoken. They had felt an instant connection that had endured for the rest of Brian’s life.

  She had known she loved him from the moment she saw him.

  Elias had sneaked up on her. Of course, he was handsome. Certainly he had a body to die for. He was smart, intense, dynamic, hardworking, determined. He cared about his family, his staff, even the interloper president who had come in and taken over what should have been his job.

  The wonder wasn’t that she loved him. The wonder was that it had taken her so long to realize it.

  But knowing, she had no idea what to do.

  Elias wasn’t like Brian. He didn’t wear his heart on his sleeve. On the contrary, he had it buried under more layers of steel-plated emotional armor than a Sherman tank.

  And while Tallie was sure he genuinely liked her and certainly enjoyed going to bed with her, the word love had never escaped his lips.

  “What’s he doing about the profits, Tallie?”

  “Profits?”

  “Oh, for God’s sake! Focus, girl. This is two quarters in a row that things have been a little flat. What’s going on?”

  Tallie mustered her brain cells. She forced her brain to backtrack through her father’s words and pick out which things to respond to. “We’re making adjustments. Streamlining in some areas, cutting back waste. And we’re looking at other options.”

  “I know, I know. Some marine outfitter,” Socrates said impatiently. “I damned well hope so because–”

  “Because you have money invested.” Which, besides marrying her off, was his other bottom line.

  Marrying her off was what he’d tried to do by offering her this job in the first place! He’d wanted her to fall in love with Elias. He’d orchestrated the whole thing in hopes that she would get married and be a good Greek wife and stop trying to follow in his footsteps.

  She wondered what he would say if she told him it had worked—the falling-in-love part, not the getting-married-and-being-a-good-Greek-wife part. Because if Elias hadn’t mentioned love, he certainly hadn’t mentioned marriage.

  “You have some experience with this sort of thing, Thalia,” he said. “You should be working with Antonides.”

  “I am.”

  “You are? Every day?”

  “Of course.”

  “Then…what the hell’s the matter with him? Doesn’t he like women?”

  “What?” Tallie’s brain cells all got together on that!

  “You heard me. You’re not hard on the eyes, Thalia. You might not be a cover model—”

  “Thank you very much,” Tallie said drily.

  “But—” Socrates steamrollered on, “you are clever and intelligent and you are under his nose from Monday through Friday. Why the hell hasn’t he asked you out?”

  Because he didn’t have to, she wanted to say. I fell into his bed without him doing a thing. And now we’re having an affair and I love him and he’s going to dump me and I owe it all to you.

  Instead she said, “Goodbye, Dad, and banged the phone down so hard the battery pack fell out.

  She wished she felt the tiniest bit of satisfaction for having done it. In fact, she felt miserable. Elias wanted her in his bed, yes. But for how long? And when he got tired of her, then what?

  Clearly she was not a woman cut out for affairs. She stabbed her pen through the papers on her desk and barely noticed. She couldn’t work. She couldn’t think. She stood up and stuck her crutches under her arms and hobbled out of the office.

  “Rosie! I’m going to—” She stopped dead and stared at the back of a black-haired man in faded blue jeans and a loud Hawaiian shirt. “Elias?” She couldn’t believe her eyes.

  The man had been talking agitatedly to Rosie, but he turned at the sound of her voice and she saw, not surprisingly, that it wasn’t Elias at all. He was wiry and leaner than Elias. Younger, too, and darkly tanned, but deeply handsome in the classic Antonides way.

  “Thank God, no,” he said, and clearly meant it. “I’m Peter. His brother. For my sins.” His mouth twisted. But then he turned on his version of the Antonides charm and gave her a warm slow smile. “And you are?”

  Tallie hobbled forward and held out a hand to him. “Tallie Savas. It’s nice to meet you. What a surprise. You’re the surfer dude?”

  “Is that what he says?” Peter’s smile vanished and sudden anger flashed in his eyes.

  “No,” Tallie hastened to assure him. “Elias didn’t. Cristina did.”

  The smile returned at once. “You know Cristina? How is she?” he asked eagerly. “I haven’t heard from her in ages.”

  “She’s married.”

  Peter Antonides’s jaw dropped. “Married? Crissie? I’ll be damned. Who to? Where’s she living? When’d this happen?”

  “You should ask Elias. He was there.”

  Peter shook his head. “Big brother doesn’t want to talk to me. I waste his time—and his money.”

  “Oh, I’m sure he didn’t mean whatever he said to give you that impression,” Tallie said.

  “Oh, he damned well did mean it.” Peter shoved a hand through his shaggy hair. “And right now I don’t want to talk to him, either. I came all the way from Hawaii to make a proposal, to talk to him about this—” he slapped the portfolio under his arm “—and he blew me off.”

  “A proposal?” So it was business that had brought him here. “What is it?”

  “A windsurfer. I designed a better windsurfer.” Peter lifted his chin, as if daring her to make something of it.

  “Did you?” Tallie’s eyes widened. From what she’d heard from both Cristina and Elias, Peter was a surf bum, no more, no less.

  But Peter was adamant. “Damned right I did. I ride ’em, but I’ve got a blinkin’ master’s in mechanical engineering. I know what I’m talking about. But Mr Fair and Square, Mr Good Business Head couldn’t even listen!” He turned toward the door.

  Instinctively Tallie caught his arm. “Elias has a lot on his mind right now.”

  “When doesn’t he?”

  “Possibly never,” Tallie said quite truthfully. “But I’d be happy to listen.”

  “You?” Peter looked doubtful. “What are you? I don’t mean to be disrespectful, but are you Elias’s assistant or something?”

  “Or something,” Tallie said drily.

  “Are you sure about this?” Peter persisted. “I don’t want to get you in trouble. I know my brother. He’s big on loyalty. And he can be a jerk.”

  “Elias and I have an understanding.”

  Peter looked speculative. Then his gaze narrowed as he assessed her more closely. “So, what do you do here?”

  Tallie grinned. “I boss him around.”

  “You what?” Peter’s eyes grew round.

  “There’s been a restructuring of the company. And I’m the new president of Antonides Marine.”

  “You? What happened to Dad? Good God!” The colour washed out of Peter’s face. “Did he die and no one told me?”

  “No,” Tallie reassured him. “He just sold some of his share of the bus
iness to, um, my family. And we divided up the jobs.” Which was the truth, of a sort. “And I’m president. I’m qualified,” she assured him, in case he was wondering.

  But he was grinning. “So what’s Elias then? Chopped liver?” He looked as if that wouldn’t have been a bad idea.

  “Elias is still managing director. We work together.” We sleep together. We make love to each other.

  Except Elias didn’t believe in love and— She couldn’t go there. Not now.

  “Come on.” She herded Peter and his portfolio into her office. He looked sceptical, but finally allowed himself to be steered through the door. He looked around and whistled. “So you got the window. Heck of a view.”

  “Isn’t it?” Tallie shut the door, then took a page out of Theo’s book and rang Rosie’s line. “Could you send someone down with coffee and kolaches?”

  “Kolaches?” Peter stared at her in disbelief. “I guess there has been a restructuring. Elias would never have thought of that.”

  “A well-fed staff is a harder-working, happier staff,” Tallie recited on cue.

  “Well, maybe it was his idea, then,” Peter muttered, getting annoyed again.

  “Sit down.” Tallie gestured to a leather armchair. “And tell me about this windsurfer idea of yours.”

  She didn’t have any preconceived notions about Peter Antonides. He wasn’t her beach-bum younger brother who had spent years in college while she worked and he surfed to his heart’s content. So she had far more patience than Elias apparently had. And a good thing, too, as Peter, encouraged by her attention, drank coffee and ate kolaches and went on at length about this new windsurfer he’d designed.

  He dragged out technical drawings and explained the aerodynamics and the wind-resistance issues and the best materials to use. He spoke with an urgency that belied the notion that he was a layabout. He was obviously enthused and excited about his project. And the more enthused and excited about it he got, the more he had a look about him very like the one Elias had had when he’d talked about the woodworking he’d done on his apartment.

  It was a labor of love for Elias just as this windsurfer was for his brother. Listening to Peter, she wondered what Elias would be like now if he’d been able to follow his own dreams instead of having to take over the running of the family business. Would he be as enthusiastic as Peter seemed to be? Would he smile more and growl less?

  “It’s going to work. It does work,” Peter was saying firmly, his dark eyes, so like his brother’s, fixed on her own. “I’ve made countless prototypes myself. I’ve modified it, tinkered, tuned. And I’ve got it right. But I don’t have the money to go into production. That’s why I brought it here. I read in a business mag about some of the changes Elias has made, some of the new stuff AMI is doing. And I thought my windsurfer would fit in, that it might work out well for both me and Antonides Marine. Elias disagreed.”

  Tallie ran her tongue over her lips and thought about what to say. Elias had already said no. But he’d said no based on his emotions, not based on the potential value of Peter’s windsurfer. She didn’t know the first thing about windsurfing. So she certainly wasn’t going to contradict Elias even though she thought Peter’s explanations made sense—at least to her untutored ear.

  She also thought that, on a gut level, it was a project more in line with Antonides Marine than Corbett’s the marine outfitter was—if it was as viable as Peter thought it was.

  “It looks interesting,” she said at last, because it did. “Can I run it past someone?”

  “Not Elias.”

  “No, not Elias. My brother. Theo’s not a professional windsurfer, but he knows a lot about wind. He races sailboats,” she explained.

  “Theo Savas? Theo Savas is your brother?” Peter looked almost awestruck. Then a grin dawned on his face. “Hell, yeah, you can ask him. That’d be fantastic.”

  “How about if you ask him yourself?”

  “Me?” Peter was equal parts eagerness and apprehension. “He doesn’t know me from Adam. I can’t just burst in and—”

  “You won’t. I’ll get hold of him and set it up. Do you have a number where I can reach you? He’s out in Newport now. You’ll probably have to catch up to him there.”

  “No problem. No one was clamoring for me to stay here.” Peter flashed her another grin and rattled off his cell phone number. Then he gathered up his drawings, all energy now. “Just tell me when.”

  “I’ll ring you as soon as I talk to him. But listen to me, Peter.” She caught his arm. “I am not promising to overrule Elias’s decision. I’m simply promising to ask Theo take a look at what you’ve got. If he thinks it’s an idea worth exploring, then I’ll talk to Elias about it.”

  Peter nodded seriously. “Understood. All I want is a fair shot. But if you guys don’t do it, someone else will. It’s going to work. And it will be good for both of us. I know it.” He turned toward the door, then stopped and came back.

  “Look,” he said, “I know the burden has been on Elias for years. I appreciate that. I appreciate him, stubborn jackass that he is. But obviously, if you’re here, someone has finally realized that he can’t do it all. So thank God for that. All I’m saying is, I’m here now. And I’m just trying to do my part.”

  Tallie smiled and squeezed his arm. “I’ll call my brother.”

  It had been, conservatively speaking, the day from hell.

  First there had been his mother, ranting on about Cristina and missing her wedding—and hatching plots to set him up with a dozen available women.

  Then had come Peter and his hare-brained scheme about the windsurfer, which was, Elias was certain, yet another way to extend his beachcomber life in Hawaii and not have to get a real job.

  And then he’d tried to put together his notes for Tallie on the Corbett’s acquisition, and his computer had crashed.

  “You’ve got a virus,” Paul said. He thought it might have come in on an e-mail from Lukas saying he was in Queenstown and he’d broken his arm skiing so if Elias had come up with someone who had a job for him, he hoped he could do it one-handed.

  “I’ll see if I can clean it up,” Paul had disappeared with the processor, leaving Elias with no notes from the Corbett’s meeting. So he’d told Rosie to tell Tallie to postpone it because Tallie had someone in her office.

  Then his mother called back, having eliminated one of the women on her eligible brides list and added three more.

  And Elias found himself shouting, “I don’t want any of them!”

  He wanted Tallie.

  “No need to bellow, darling,” his mother said, sounding a little wary now. “I just want what’s best for you.”

  What was best for him was Tallie. She was always there at the back of his mind—her smile, her wit, her laugh, her touch.

  He wanted her in ways he’d never even wanted Millicent. He could talk to her about work, about business, about woodworking even. She understood that. She would probably even understand the envy he felt when he’d gone out to see Nikos Costanides’s boatyard. She understood him.

  And he loved her.

  In his ear his mother rabbited on, but Elias wasn’t listening. He was waiting for the gut-level rejection of anything to do with love that he’d felt instinctively since Millicent had walked out.

  But it didn’t come.

  Because Tallie was not Millicent.

  Tallie was a whole different person. A genuine, loving, caring person. A kind, delightful, funny person. An enthusiastic, energetic person. Not to mention a passionate lover.

  Who didn’t love him.

  That did cause his gut to clench. But he took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

  “We’ll find you someone, Elias,” his mother was saying.

  But he didn’t want anyone but Tallie.

  “Leave it to me.”

  Elias shuddered at the thought. “I’ll talk to you later, Mom,” he said. He needed to think.

  But before he could even begin, Rosie buzzed him
again. “Your father on line two.”

  He desperately wanted to have her tell the old man he wasn’t in. But he knew his father. If Aeolus didn’t get what he wanted, he persisted. Better to take the call now and think about what to do about Tallie when Aeolus was back on the golf course.

  “Ah, Elias! How are things? I was surprised about your sister getting married.” But not annoyed like his wife. Probably Aeolus was glad he missed it. He once said that if he couldn’t wear a golf shirt or deck shoes, he never wanted to go. Now he asked questions about the wedding, said he was happy to have Mark in the family because he could always beat his new son-in-law at golf, and then he discussed the weather and his new nine iron.

  As usual, Aeolus took his time to get to the point. Hurrying him along did no good at all. So Elias stared out the window and waited.

  After the nine iron, they talked about a boat Aeolus had his eye on. They talked about Peter.

  “He’s in town?” Aeolus sounded surprised. “Haven’t seen him since your mother and I were in Honolulu in March. Haven’t seen any of my children in a month of Sundays. Not even Martha. Dumped Julian and took off. You don’t know where she went, do you, Elias?”

  “No.”

  “Well, I expect she’ll turn up in good time.” His father dismissed Martha’s absence with the same cavalier attitude with which he dismissed everything—except golf. “Played eighteen holes yesterday with Socrates. Beat him, too,” he added with considerable satisfaction.

  “I don’t suppose you won the house back,” Elias said.

  “As a matter of fact, I did.”

  Elias sat up straight. “You’re kidding.”

  “I’m not. But I must admit, I am surprised. I was joking when I said I’d like the house back if I won, and he agreed.”

  Elias didn’t ask what he would have forfeited if he’d lost. He was sure he didn’t want to know.

  “He’s worried about his daughter,” Aeolus went on.

  “Worried? About Tallie? What do you mean?” Elias was listening now.

  “She’s consumed by work. All business. Missing out on life. Her fiancé died a few years ago, and since then she’s been on her own.”

 

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