by Meier, Susan
Attempting to return the room to its usual dignity and decorum, Tucker said, “I’m thrilled to have you in town.”
“I like New York.”
“You should keep a home here.”
Constanzo laughed. “I intend to enjoy not traveling when I retire.”
Tucker smiled. This was the kind of conversation he expected to have with a billionaire legend. Not a discussion about leftover Chinese food. A feeling of normalcy returned, including the urge to pounce.
Still, he wouldn’t jump the gun. He’d continue the small talk until Constanzo brought up the subject of his conglomerate again.
“You might try something like staying in Italy for six months and living in New York six months.”
He waved a hand and blew out a “pfft” sound. “Retirement is supposed to be about no plans.” He stopped, smiled at Olivia, then turned his attention to Tucker. “Maria tells me you want my company.”
“Yes, I do.”
“I have something I want, too. If you get it for me, I will negotiate exclusively with you for my conglomerate.”
Dumbfounded, Tucker fought a wave of shock. “So there wouldn’t be a short list? There would just be me?”
“For a year.” Constanzo laughed. “Even you have to admit if we can’t come to terms in a year, then there is no deal. But we will negotiate fairly because I want to retire next year. You will find me amicable.”
Fighting a feeling that this was too good to be true, or that there had to be a big, ugly catch, Tucker asked, “What do you want me to get for you?”
“You and three others expressed interest in my company.”
Tucker had figured as much, so he inclined his head.
“I checked all of your financials, then hired a private investigator.”
Not surprised by the review of his financials, but a bit put off by the P.I., Tucker said, “To see who could come up with the financing?”
“No. To see who can bring my son home to me.”
Tucker narrowed his eyes. This wasn’t a catch. It was a trick. “You don’t have a son. You never married. You have no children.”
Constanzo laughed. “I see you did your homework too.”
“We’re both smart businessmen. There’s no sense pretending we aren’t.”
Constanzo slapped Tucker’s knee. “That’s why I like you. You’re on top of things.”
“Yet somehow or another I missed the fact that you have a child. Either that, or you’re trying to trick me.”
“No trick. No one knows I have a child. Thirty years ago on a very busy, very hectic day, a girlfriend approached me saying she was pregnant. Believing she only wanted money, I had her removed from my office. She never tried to contact me again.”
Tucker sat forward. “And now suddenly you believe this woman’s claim, and you want me to find this child you’re not even sure exits?”
“Oh, he exists.” He glanced over at Olivia. “I’ve found him. I only need you to bring him home to me.”
“Constanzo, I—”
“—Don’t usually get involved in personal family problems to do a business deal?” He laughed. “Is that why you took Maria to lunch on Monday and promised to do something about her annoying cousin?”
“That was part of prying for information.”
“That was her undercutting her cousins.”
Tucker couldn’t argue that so he didn’t even try.
“Antonio’s mother—the girlfriend I spoke of—died when Antonio was a baby.” He reached into his pocket, pulled out an envelope and handed it to Tucker. “He’s in Italy now, but he grew up in foster care in the U.S.”
Tucker’s nerve endings puffed out. Foster care. The son of one of the richest men in the world had been raised by strangers. Had gone to sleep lonely. And probably grew up resenting the dad who’d abandoned him.
Which was why Constanzo wanted Tucker to be the one to talk to him. Without even knowing Constanzo’s son, he understood him.
“Your investigation went a lot further than I would have expected.”
“Yes, and you should be glad because until I went back as far as I did, other candidates to buy my company looked more promising.”
Tucker said nothing.
Constanzo sighed. “You’re the only one of the candidates who will know how to tell my son he has a father.”
“You’re saying he doesn’t know who you are?”
“No. He does not.”
“And you don’t want me to just drop in and say, hey, it’s your lucky day, your biological father is a billionaire.”
He rose. “I don’t care what you say. I leave that entirely to your discretion. With the stakes as high as they are I’m sure you won’t make a mistake.” He turned to Olivia. “Vivi, a pleasure to meet you. I think you will enjoy Italy.”
About to rise, Tucker stopped. “You want me to bring Miss Prentiss to Italy?”
He glanced at Tucker. “Why not?”
“Because she’s temporary, only standing in for Betsy, and she doesn’t know anything.”
“This trip has nothing to do with what she knows. You’re buying my company. Even you don’t know the things I’ll share if you win the chance to buy my enterprise.”
“Even so, she should stay here so that she has access to things I’ll need.”
“We have the internet in Italy, Tucker.” He laughed. “Besides, I now owe her for her hospitality. I pay her back at my home.” He grinned at Olivia. “My cook prepares a lasagna that will make you weep.”
She laughed.
He faced Tucker again. “I’m hoping to see you at my villa in the next day or two. Particulars are in the envelope. Good luck.”
He left the room and though Vivi popped out of her seat, Tucker watched the realization come to her face that it was too late. Constanzo had already reached the elevator. He pressed the button and the door swished open. There was no point in racing out to escort him.
As the elevator door closed behind Constanzo, Tucker ran his hands down his face. Suddenly the Echo deal falling apart meant nothing. He had an opportunity to get Constanzo Bartulocci’s entire enterprise. But, to get the chance for exclusive negotiations, he had to integrate Constanzo’s son into his life. And he had to take Olivia Prentiss with him. Had to. A wealthy man like Constanzo Bartulocci didn’t do anything without reason. He might be trying to make it look casual that he’d invited Olivia along, but after a few seconds to let it all sink in, Tucker knew better. There was a reason.
“I’m not exactly sure why Constanzo wants you on this job, but from the fact that he so clearly handpicked me, I’m guessing there’s a reason he’s insisting I take you.” He motioned her back to her chair. “Sit down. Let’s see what’s going on here.” He ripped open the envelope.
“You’re doing it? You’re going to Italy to explain to an orphan that he has a dad?”
“There was never a doubt.” He glanced at her. “He’s offering me exclusive negotiations on a multi-billion-dollar conglomerate.”
“Because you were a foster child?”
The words rankled. He should have been pleased that for once his status had gotten him something. Instead, he thought of Olivia’s mom and dad. Her arguing sister and brother. He wondered what it might be like to grow up surrounded by people who loved you enough that they traveled thousands of miles to see you simply because they missed you.
And got angry with himself. He’d forgotten all this, let it go. One episode with a quirky family shouldn’t make him long for things that couldn’t be. No one could change the past.
His gaze fell to the documents in the envelope. Pictures of a young man with Constanzo Bartulocci’s eyes. A birth certificate that named the baby’s father as unknown. But a DNA test that proved Constanzo was the father
.
“Well, I’m not sure who his P.I. was but he’s thorough.”
Vivi rose from her chair and sat beside him so she could see the papers. “Why do you say that?”
He turned to hand the DNA test to her but their gazes caught and those weird feelings swept through him again. The pinpricks of awareness. The warmth of excitement. The swirl of desire. Except this time they came with the knowledge that he was taking her to Italy. They’d spend seven hours alone on a plane, eat every meal together—
But Tucker dismissed those concerns simply by looking away. He might be attracted but he wouldn’t pursue it. She was his employee but more than that, she wasn’t his type. He liked sexy sophisticates. She was a family girl. Too sweet for him. Or maybe he was just a little too rough for her.
“To get DNA for the test, Constanzo’s investigator probably trailed the poor kid until he could get his used cup at a coffee shop or something.”
Vivi laughed. “Really? You think that’s what he did?”
“He certainly couldn’t ask for a lock of his hair.”
“Not unless he wanted to get arrested. Or alert Constanzo’s son that someone was investigating him. I’m guessing Mr. B. doesn’t want his name even mentioned until the road is clear for a congenial meeting.”
Tucker sat back on the sofa. She’d brought the situation down to its real bottom line, and quickly enough that Tucker wondered if that was why Constanzo wanted her to go to Italy. She’d probably said something while they were playing cards to make him think she was smart, intuitive, good with people.
And maybe she was. Tucker might understand being a foster child, but she understood being poor. She also knew about family.
“Are you sure you don’t mind me going to Italy?”
“Constanzo Bartulocci is one of the richest men in the world. You don’t get rich by being stupid or by not understanding people. He sees something in you. Something he thinks I might need. Wouldn’t I be a little foolish to refuse his backhanded advice?”
“I guess.”
He slid the papers back into the envelope. “Pack tonight. We’ll leave tomorrow after work.”
She rose. “Okay.”
He walked to his desk, dismissing her, but stopped suddenly. “And Miss Prentiss make sure your parents are on board with this trip.”
There was no way he’d take her anywhere if big Jim and narrow-eyed Loraina didn’t want him to.
CHAPTER FIVE
VIVI CALLED HER parents and made arrangements to meet them at a pizza place by their hotel for dinner. When she dropped the bomb about Italy, her dad went ballistic. Her mom absolutely forbade her from going.
“I’m twenty-two. You can’t stop me. Besides, you met him. He’s a wealthy man who can have his pick of women. Trust me. He doesn’t want the local street waif.” Even as she said the words, she knew they were something of a lie. Not a total lie, but kind of close. She didn’t know what had happened when Tucker Engle had bent to pick up his briefcase and suddenly they’d been two inches away from each other. But her attraction to him had turned her voice to a whisper and she’d seen the spark of something in his eyes.
Still, he’d ignored it. Pretended it wasn’t there. He might find her attractive but he didn’t want to. Which meant he wouldn’t act on the weird feelings hopping between them, and, technically, that was all her parents were interested in.
“You’re a very beautiful woman. You don’t think it’s odd that you go to work for him one day and three days later he decides to take you across the Atlantic?”
She brightened. “That’s just it. He doesn’t want me to go. He wants to buy the company of a man named Constanzo Bartulocci. Mr. Bartulocci dropped in today unannounced and gave Mr. Engle the chance to be the sole bidder on his company. But to get the chance to bid, he has to go to Constanzo’s estate in Italy.”
“With you?”
“Only because Mr. Bartulocci wants me to go, too.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m part of Tucker Engle’s team. With his regular assistant gone. I’m his go-to girl.”
When her parents still looked unconvinced, she sighed. “I am twenty-two years old. I had something really bad happen to me three years ago. I got beyond it. And do you know why? Because if I didn’t, if Cord had made me too scared to live, then he didn’t just steal my reputation from me. He also stole my life and, frankly, that’s something I refuse to give to him.”
Her dad tossed his napkin to the table. “You have a point.”
Her mother shook her head. “It’s just that Tucker Engle is so young.”
“Yes, he is young, but he’s a very smart guy. Before you found out how old he was even you told me I could learn from him.”
She reached across the worn table of the pizza place and caught her mother’s hand. “Don’t trust him, Mom. Trust me. I need to get out in the world to prove I’ve recovered.”
Twenty minutes later, she was walking home to pack.
The next day she brought her single piece of luggage and a toiletries case to work. Tucker had meetings out of the office all day in preparation for being away, so he had left the limo for her and told her he would meet her at the airstrip.
Traffic kept her on the road until almost seven, filling her with panic. But when she saw the long, sleek jet that stood at the ready, she forgot all about being late and gaped at it in awe. Tucker Engle owned that glossy little jet. For all she knew he also owned the airstrip.
He was a former foster kid who at thirty or so now owned a plane. Maybe an airstrip. It was phenomenal.
And she suddenly understood why she was so drawn to him. He’d done what she wanted to do. He hadn’t let his past hinder him. He’d gotten beyond it.
Technically, she might not be attracted to him as much as she admired him.
She thanked the driver who assured her he would see to her luggage, and casually headed for the plane.
A tall, blue-eyed pilot greeted her as she entered. “Good evening, Miss Prentiss.”
She smiled. “Good evening.”
“The flight is approximately seven hours. Accounting for the time difference, we’ll be arriving at Mr. Bartulocci’s private airstrip around 7:00 a.m. local time.”
“So, you’re basically telling me to sleep on the flight?”
“Yes, ma’am.” He motioned her toward the roomy six-seat cabin.
Tucker Engle sat at a compact workstation at the very back of the plane. Paperwork had been spread out on the table in front of his seat. Though he said good evening, he barely looked up from his work, confirming that he might be attracted to her but he wasn’t interested in her. Her parents had nothing to worry about.
She slid into one of the six butterscotch leather seats and buckled in. The pilots taxied to the runway and the plane took off smoothly.
She reclined her seat, preparing to fall asleep. But soft as it was, without a pillow or a blanket, she couldn’t quite get comfortable.
“There are blankets in a cupboard back there.”
She sat up and faced him. He angled his thumb toward the back of the plane. “And pillows.”
She unbuckled her seat belt and rose. “Thanks.”
She walked to the cupboard, but she didn’t open it. Her hand hovered over the door knob. “Would you like one?”
“No. I’m working.”
She nodded and returned to her seat with a pillow and a blanket. She turned off the light above her, reclined her seat and nestled into her covers.
She closed her eyes and took three long, calming breaths, but they didn’t help. She couldn’t imagine how someone went from being a foster kid to being a billionaire. She had had help from her parents, but still couldn’t live in New York City on her meager salary without roommates. Starting at the bottom, she had absolutely
no idea how to climb the ladder from where she was now to where he was now.
And that’s what she wanted. To be somebody. So that when she went back to Starlight everybody would see she hadn’t needed to fake an attack to extort money from Cord Dawson. She had always had the talent and drive to be successful on her own.
She sat up, swiveled to face him. “So how does somebody go from being a foster child to owning all this?”
He didn’t even look up. “Perseverance.”
“There’s got to be more to it than that.”
“There isn’t.”
“It’s not like I wouldn’t understand. I’m pretty smart and I really want this. Plus, it’s not like anything you’d say would shock me. I had a friend who was a foster child. And I also had some really crappy things happen to me at university.”
* * *
He knew she had. He remembered she’d been sued for slander. Even though the kid had dropped the suit, she’d probably been terrified.
He twirled his pencil between his fingers. He shouldn’t talk. He should keep everything between them strictly professional, but she’d opened the door and curiosity about that “something” about her wouldn’t allow him to let the opportunity to ask her a few questions pass. If she wanted to know his secrets, first she’d share hers. “I know about the lawsuit filed against you three years ago.”
Her eyes widened. “You do?”
“Like Constanzo, I go the extra mile with people who are going to know my business.”
She said nothing, but her face had gone pasty white.
“I understand the kid dropped the suit, but it would still be very difficult to be nineteen and have somebody sue you.”
She nodded.
“So what happened?”
“Happened?”
“No twenty-year-old boy files a slander law suit without good reason. So whatever you said, it had to have been a doozy.”
Her chin lifted. “I told the truth.”
“Then it couldn’t have been slander.”
