Path to Passion

by Nana Prah

  She looked at her computer’s clock. Not even eight, yet. Oops. “This is an emergency.” She explained how much work the club needed, Miguel’s opinion of Clint and how he wanted to make things better. She left out the part about how he’d made her want to melt into him and kiss every inch of him even though he’d destroyed her ten years ago. “What am I going to do?”

  “First of all, don’t let your stubbornness get in the way.”

  She stuck out her bottom lip. “I’m tenacious.”

  “Whatever. Put it to the side for once and look at the facts. Give it a shot. Miguel is the best at what he does. That’s why I called him for you. You would’ve let your business sink to the point of no revival and I couldn’t have you homeless. Or, worse, living with Mom and Dad.” He chuckled. “Dad’s anal retentive tendencies would drive you up a wall.”

  A smile crept onto her lips. She loved her parents, but living with them again wouldn’t be good for her mental health. “So you think I should let him invest?”

  “Let’s look at the facts. First of all, I think Miguel is right about Clint.” He held up a hand to stop her argument. “I know you consider him to be a friend and he was there for you during the divorce, but it doesn’t mean he’s a good manager. How could your restaurant do well under yours and Eva’s management, while the club is flailing under Clint’s? Something’s not right.”

  Her finger sprang into the air. “Speculation and proof are two different things.” She refused to believe she’d been wrong about yet another man in her life. It was as if her instincts had fizzled out completely.

  “Then get some. Go over the books. Clint’s had free rein over the accounts since Broderick left. When was the last time you checked them?”

  She crinkled her nose. She hated the financial aspect of running a business and only did it for the restaurant because she had to. Her ex had been a genius at it. “I’ll have my accountant go over them.”

  “After discussing it with Miguel last night, we decided—”

  “Hold up.” She narrowed her gaze at her little brother. “You talked to him?”

  He blinked as if he’d just realized what he’d said. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but you aren’t the most logical person when he’s around.”

  Her head jerked back. “What do you mean by that?”

  “Deny that you had a huge crush on him in college, and I’ll call you a flat-out liar.”

  “What?”

  “You heard me. Everyone who was in the same room with you two knew. But I warned him to stay the hell away from you or face the consequences.”

  The tightness in her chest made it a struggle to drag air into her lungs. She rotated the chair in her home office away from the screen to give her a chance to gain some understanding. When she turned back around, her shock had morphed into anger. “So what if I liked him back then? He didn’t return the feelings. I’m in full damn control when I’m around him and I don’t appreciate you discussing me behind my back with him. He may be your best friend, but I’m—” she jammed a finger into the center of her chest “—your sister. You’d be better off remembering that.”

  He relaxed into his seat as if they were having a lovely conversation over tea. “Always so dramatic, aren’t you? So much like Dad. No wonder Mom calls you his clone.”

  “Oh, shut up.” She looked up at him through her lashes. “By the way, Miguel never liked me.”

  Josh snorted. “What planet were you living on? The boy adored you.”

  She didn’t believe him. Her brows scrunched together. “Did you say you told him to stay away from me?”

  “Damn straight. He wasn’t ready to be with you. He would’ve crushed you.”

  He did it anyway.

  “Do you remember the circumstances that made him transfer from Stanford University to Ohio State his sophomore year?”

  Still too upset to speak, she nodded.

  “I didn’t find out until a month after we’d become friends, and even then it was from his perspective. After some digging, I found out it was true.” Josh told the story as if lost in the memory.

  “During his freshman year at Stanford, he’d been wild. From what I hear, coed living after attending an all-male boarding school can be overwhelming. He had more women throwing themselves at him than he knew what to do with. During his second semester, he met up with one who wouldn’t tolerate being part of a harem and told him to make her his only. When he refused, she claimed he’d raped her.”

  “It wasn’t true.”

  “With his lifestyle back then, not everyone believed the same. A full-fledged investigation took place and the tabloids had a field day.”

  “I remember hearing about it months later. How come I wasn’t in the loop earlier?”

  “You never watched the news. If the topic wasn’t about computers or school, you didn’t pay attention. That’s why I liked Miguel’s influence on you. He helped make you a more aware, well-rounded person.

  “In the end,” Josh said, “it all came out that the woman was lying, but by that time, things had gotten bad for him. His father ordered him to transfer into his alma mater, to which he’d made huge donations over the years. When the students at Ohio State found out about what had happened, they initially shunned him.”

  “But you stood by his side.”

  “Of course. Once a friend—”

  “Always a friend,” she finished for him.

  “Unless they muck things up.”

  She inhaled deeply before releasing the air. “Like hurting your one and only sister?”

  “That’s on top of the list.”

  She felt the same about him. They’d been close all their life and she couldn’t see anything changing that. “Would it have been all that bad for us to get together?”

  He angled his head, studying her. “At the time, yes. He wasn’t in a good place. He’d been in a near miss that had almost destroyed his life, and he still needed to find himself. He wouldn’t have been able to commit.”

  What about now? She wanted to ask, but what would be the point? The hurt still lingered and she doubted she’d ever be able to trust him again. “So you think I should take his offer?”

  “Definitely. What do you have to lose? He told me he’d have his sister go over the books for you.”

  Her mouth gaped open. “She will not.”

  “That’s what he said. Something about owing him for showing up at her fund-raisers.”

  Tanya had never met the woman, but Miguel had spoken about Lanelle often enough to show how much he respected and loved her. She hadn’t heard anything about the reclusive heiress in the media over the years, but it had been announced last year that the Astacios’ only daughter had given birth to a healthy baby girl. She could only imagine Miguel’s joy at being an uncle.

  “He could get anyone to check the club’s finances. Why her?”

  Josh shrugged. “He trusts her.”

  “Oh.” She had a lot to think about. “I’ll let you get some sleep.” A loud crowing reached her side of the Atlantic.

  “Too late for me. What are you going to do about the offer? You’re not a stupid woman, so I know you’re going to take it.”

  “You’d better watch it, little brother. Don’t think you can overstep your bounds just because you’re a bigwig in the bridge-building world.”

  He chuckled.

  “I’ll think about it.”

  “Don’t think too long. Your profits are dropping. Besides, the place needs to be ready for Miguel’s thirtieth birthday bash in a month.”

  “What?”

  His eyes went wide. “He didn’t tell you?”

  “No.”

  “You two really need to sit down and talk. Just remember to put your tenacity aside. I love you, sis. Be good.”

  “Love you, too. I’m always good
.”

  He hung up laughing.

  Too much had happened within the past week. Meeting up with Miguel had been the most overwhelming. She had to figure out what to do about him. If they ended up working together, she’d have to find a way to safeguard her heart from his charm. If she decided not to take his help, she’d need to dig up enough patience so she’d be able to live with her parents. Oh, the choices.

  Chapter 9

  After another night of the club being less than encouraging, Tanya had called Miguel on Sunday morning. Holding on to her pride shouldn’t cause her to lose her livelihood. Right after uttering her greeting, she’d found herself invited to dinner so he could review the presentation because he said he’d botched it up the first time.

  Before she knew what had happened during that short phone call, she’d been told he’d pick her up at five. Dizzy, she’d heard the click of the phone disengaging as she tried to figure out what he was up to.

  She’d have to wait six hours to find out because he wouldn’t tell her until he was ready. He’d always been like that. Just as determined as her if she remembered correctly. She’d argued more with him in those two semesters than she’d ever done in her life.

  He’d later admitted that he enjoyed their lively discussions because he’d rarely met a woman who would disagree with him. Once the females found out he was an Astacio, they became all giggles. He said he’d liked that she gave her true opinion without caring how he reacted. They’d discussed everything. From poverty to racism, clothes and even sex, although she’d had little to contribute to the subject.

  Not every conversation turned into a heated debate, but she didn’t mind when they did because they always ended in a respectful agreement to disagree.

  No one had ever been as engaging to converse with. She’d learned so much about other cultures from his travels all over the world with his parents. It had impressed her that he wasn’t in the least bit spoiled although he had really expensive taste.

  They’d been great friends before she ruined it by kissing him a few days before her graduation. The temptation had hounded her since they’d first met, but he always seemed to have a girlfriend, which had upset her more than she’d let on. Why couldn’t she have been the one on his arm at the school’s winter wonderland dance? Or sat next to him at the football awards dinner?

  Having a business dinner with him would have to suffice because there could be nothing more between them. Sure, she’d lost lots of weight and looked all right, but she wasn’t as beautiful or rich as the women he tended to date.

  Their lives were worlds apart. He was dogged by the paparazzi and had to wear a costume so they wouldn’t catch him. She enjoyed coming and going at her leisure without having to watch over her shoulder for who was snapping pictures of her wider-than-it-should-be behind.

  With all of his money, she’d never fit into his luxurious world. Give her a Miller Lite with some chicken wings, blue cheese dressing and celery sticks, and she was a happy girl. She could only imagine the kinds of fancy dinners he had where she wouldn’t be able to pronounce the names of the dishes.

  Was she actually thinking about him as more than someone to help her get the business back on its feet? No. She’d been there once and never needed to venture into that terrain again. It didn’t matter that their one and only kiss had set her world upside down and her body ablaze. That she could still feel the softness of his perfect lips as he’d sucked gently on her bottom lip, then his tongue sliding into her mouth and making her toes curl.

  Picking up a magazine from the coffee table, she fanned herself. Nope. Never again.

  * * *

  Tanya held on to the driver’s proffered hand as she got out of the Jaguar. The sleek, low-slung vehicle had purred on the way over, making her wonder if she needed to change the muffler in her Camry because her car definitely didn’t sound like Miguel’s. She’d been disappointed that he hadn’t been in the vehicle when it had stopped at her front door and he’d called to tell her it had arrived.

  The butter-soft seats had conformed to her body, and she’d never wanted to leave the elegant interior. The vehicle had transported her to Pepper Pike, a suburb of Cleveland where only the wealthy could afford to reside. She hadn’t closed her mouth or eyes since entering the area. The homes closer to the road were beyond gorgeous. She loved her old Victorian, but no one would have to persuade her to live in one of these ostentatious buildings.

  They’d turned off the main road, climbed up a winding hill and arrived at a closed gate. The driver had placed his hand over an electronic pad and the intricately designed black metal had opened for him to drive through. It took them a few more minutes of climbing to reach the driveway of a stunning house that snatched her breath away. A two-story wooden structure surrounded by forest. The place seemed to blend into its environment and stand out at the same time.

  Miguel opened the door with a flourish, wearing navy blue trousers that no other man could make look as good along with a dark green-and-blue-striped button-down shirt. In her favorite black suit, she felt dowdy next to him. “Welcome to my home, Ms. Carrington.”

  Still not having recovered from the brilliance she’d witnessed on the way there, she quipped, “What, no maid?”

  His chuckle sent a thrill through her and she shivered. “She’s in the kitchen helping the cook to finish up. I wanted the food to be perfect for you. Come in and get warm.”

  Had he been that attuned to her that he’d noticed how she’d reacted to him? She stepped into the marble hallway and tried really hard not to be impressed with the chandelier, gigantic bouquets of fresh flowers on what appeared to be an antique table, gleaming wood banister leading to the second floor. Was that an original painting done by Bernard Vera, a local artist who’d recently become sought after? “You know I would’ve been happy with hot dogs and beans.”

  He proffered his bent arm to her. She hesitated for a moment before hooking her hand into the crook of his elbow. Her heart raced at the contact and she wasn’t even touching his skin. The idea hit her to turn around, hijack his gorgeous car and never see him again. Not a realistic scenario. Besides she was enjoying getting back into the friendship they’d shared.

  “I’m offering you a tour before you start begging and pleading for one.”

  He grunted when she poked him in the ribs with a finger from her free hand. “Not on your life. I would’ve just asked to use the restroom and accidentally found myself lost.” Glancing around, she doubted she would’ve had to pretend. The place was enormous. The living room through the first door on the left was big enough to fit everyone in her large extended family without anyone annoying the other. The luxurious white-and-tan furniture wouldn’t have survived her little cousins, though.

  To the right, a few feet down the hallway, was another living room. This one seemed more lived in with its olive green, warm browns and friendly cream furniture. Books filled every inch of the shelves along one wall. She remembered how much he had enjoyed reading. While she’d been focused on her textbooks, he’d had a novel in his hand. Must’ve been nice to be so naturally intelligent that he didn’t have to study all the time.

  She’d learned to appreciate reading for pleasure once she’d gotten married and had given up her part-time job at the restaurant in order to spend time with her husband. Who knew books could be more of a companion than her spouse had eventually proved to be? She refused to let thoughts of his lying, cheating ways into her life for another moment.

  A full dining room, four bedrooms—minus his, which she’d longed to see, but he’d skipped over with barely a mention—and a basement with a game-and-gym-combination room later, they stood at a nook in the kitchen with a table set for two. “Your house is beautiful. Not the bachelor condo you bragged about back in college.”

  The gentleman he’d always been pulled out her chair and she sat. “I have one of those, too. In the ci
ty.”

  “New York?”

  He chuckled as he passed her a bowl filled with salad. “I meant Cleveland. Sometimes I’d prefer not to commute out here.”

  Scooping out the vegetables, she asked, “Why? I’d never leave the place.”

  She glanced up just in time to catch his expression. Was that longing on his face? She placed the bowl on the table and picked up a bottle of dressing. “Can I ask you something?”

  “No, I don’t have a girlfriend or concubines.”

  Her hand tipped the bottle too far over and she ended up with an overabundance of dressing in her bowl. Her shoulders relaxed at his laughter as he switched salads with her.

  “That wasn’t my question.”

  He started in on his salad after bowing his head for a silent prayer. The move touched her. Her parents had always taught her the importance of being grateful for the food she ate. She did the same, then ate a forkful of greens before asking, “Why is there such a stark difference between your office and the reception area?”

  Once again, his laughter lifted her spirits. She could listen to it all day. Those dimples didn’t help. She’d never gotten a chance to kiss them during their single foray into romance. Her face heated at the direction of her thoughts and she rushed out her explanation. “I mean, if I were to guess, from the style of your home, your office—which reminds me a lot of the picture I once mentioned I wanted my future office to look like back in college—is the style you prefer.”

  “If you recall, I ripped out the page from the magazine and told you I’d decorate my office that way before you had the chance because I liked it even more than you did.”

  She pursed her lips to keep from smiling. “I remember you being a copycat and liking all of my ideas.”

  He waved a fork in a negative gesture and smiled. “It’s just that we had a lot in common.”

  Suddenly feeling playful, she asked, “How do you know I wasn’t faking it?”