Huh. How about that for convenient? Maybe Aero Jantzen and I could meet up for lunch sometime to discuss our mutual friend Ryker, or, hey, maybe even after we weren’t sharing the management responsibilities of one of America’s favorite teenagers and his shaky future. I know at that point I’d have more time for gelato or macarons or grabbing falafel with a friend, rather than living off the BGG vending machine during stints of working through lunch or late-night paperwork slogs.
Granted, BGG did vending machines well. It was more like one of those Automat things from the 1960s where behind each little door was a clean plate of freshly cooked food. None of us starved or went nutritionally deprived. But still … vending machine was the theme du jour here.
My mind floated into fantasy land. Lunch with Aero Jantzen. A stroll through Old Town Pasadena. A test drive of the Tesla model in the showroom. Maybe an art-house movie, with a repeat of that kiss while we sat on the back row of the theater, with no one watching us, and …
That kiss of his gave me all the more motivation to get out of a business arrangement with him and into something less formal.
My phone rang.
“Jillian Price.” It was the standard BGG phone answering response. If I ever got out of here I was going to say “hello” like a normal person.
“Ryker thinks he wants to sign this contract and won’t listen to me.” Speak of the devil. Aero Jantzen’s voice was on the line. But it wasn’t the suave, banker voice of Swept Away. He was shouting over a bunch of circus-like background noise. “We’re at the Santa Monica Pier, and he’s on the Ferris wheel. He gave me a time limit to come up with a convincing reason not to sign away what looks like his life, if I’m not misreading the contract. Criminy. Just because he likes to drink prune juice doesn’t mean he should be the celebrity face of it.”
Prune juice!
Aero muttered something else, but it got garbled by static. “How soon can you get down here?”
“You said Ryker gave you a time limit?” I had that appointment with the realtor, but …
“He gave me three.”
“Three minutes?” No way could I get there from Hollywood in three minutes.
“Three trips on the Ferris wheel.”
“I’ll leave now.”
CHAPTER SIX
I had no idea how long the duration of a Ferris wheel ride was on the Santa Monica Pier, but I did know enough about Aero Jantzen from our short conversations that he wouldn’t go down without a fight. The banker’s sharp mind would figure out some delay tactic.
By the time I got there, Ryker was off the ride and he and Aero were dueling with corn dogs. Perfect.
“If I win,” Ryker said, parrying and thrusting, “I sign. If Jantzen wins, I don’t sign.”
I walked up and took away both corn dogs, taking a bite off each of the tops of them. Ryker’s face fell in disappointment. “The winner got the corn dogs, too. Dude.”
Because of the chewing, I signed my demand to see the contract. Aero handed it over.
A short glance told me everything I’d need to convince Ryker of his mistake.
“Look here, kid. It’s exclusive.”
“So the only drink I can endorse is PruneTastic?”
“Right. But it doesn’t only rule out drinks like Mountain Dew or—”
“Gross. That stuff is the color of Montana’s yellow snow.”
I didn’t let his tangent suck me in. I forged onward. “It also keeps you from endorsing any other product of any kind.”
“Any kind?”
“Sign this and you will have to pull all your horse feed commercials— and everything else.”
Ryker’s face fell. “No more horseback riding?”
“Not for commercial purposes.”
“Fine. Call them, Aero. Tell them no.” He ripped the contract with a dozen quick tears and then scattered the pieces on the ground. Litterbug.
“Pick those up.” Aero looked at Ryker and pointed at the mess. “Smoky the Bear would not approve.”
“Smoky the Bear says only I can prevent forest fires.”
“So you’re saying you want to cause a forest fire on the Santa Monica Pier?” He raised the stink-eyebrow at Ryker, and it appeared to be eerily effective because Ryker bent over and got most of the pieces. I stopped a blowing one with my high-heeled shoe and tossed it in the trash.
Ryker stuck out his lower lip, looking petulant. “PruneTastic is fantastic. Nobody ever lets me do what I want.”
Right. Okay, so maybe his former agent hadn’t been solely to blame for Ryker’s weird career moves.
“You can drink it all you want, kiddo.” I started walking down the pier, not fazed by his whining. “You can even put on social media that it’s the best drink out there. In fact, you can even tell the world it’s the best drink this side of Montana’s yellow snow.” I whirled around and pointed at his chest with one of the corndogs. “Go ahead and do the endorsement for free. PruneTastic won’t complain. I’m just not letting you sign your life away to them. Got it?” Maybe missing my appointment with my realtor to see the space had put me in a cranky mood, but I wasn’t taking any of Ryker’s guff, especially when he had to realize we were only protecting him.
The kid took a corndog back from me and ate a big bite. “Fine.” He gulped it down. “I give in. But now the two of you have to get out of here. I’m meeting Phoebe in five minutes and you two are like embarrassing parents. Shoo.”
I glanced over and caught Aero’s eye. “Parents?” he mouthed. I shrugged.
“Fine. But no more negotiations involving product endorsement contracts without one or both of us there.” Aero put his foot down.
“Hold hands as you leave. I don’t want Jilly twisting her ankle in those shoes on this uneven surface.”
What? When I looked at Ryker to see if he was kidding, he winked.
“Go on. Hands, people. Hands, or I’m calling up one of those back pain meds and offering to—”
“Fine.” Aero grabbed my hand. “Bossy little—” He didn’t finish the phrase I was sure contained an epithet, and I pulled him out of earshot of our shared charge.
Speaking of charges, though, the touch of Aero’s skin on my palm sent one serious charge shooting up my arm. He looked really good today, hair a bit mussed from the beachside wind, his suit jacket that narrow cut, making his shoulders’ breadth even more obvious. I was just glad the beach’s breeze kept his scent out of my olfactories or I’d be in danger of losing some more of my already compromised defenses.
“What are we going to do about him?” Aero let out an exasperated sigh.
“Teenagers.” I shrugged. “We do sound like embarrassing parents. He’s right.”
“When I have my own kids, I’m not planning on encouraging them to go around manipulating strangers’ lives.”
“Good parenting plan.” I wobbled a little as my heel caught in a crack. Aero steadied me. Okay, so maybe Ryker was onto something with these shoes. “So, you’re planning on children? None yet?”
“No. I mean, yes. I want kids. Lots, if possible. Probably every only child thinks they want a dozen just to compensate in the next generation for their own lack of siblings. But no— none yet. You?”
“Kids might be risky for someone like me, though I always planned on having some. Frankly, up to now I couldn’t even keep a houseplant alive. I had to throw all mine away and buy the fake ones at Hobby Lobby.”
“Sometimes the silk ones look better than the real ones, though.” He didn’t judge. That was cool.
We got to our cars, and he took a call. It gave me a chance to shoot my realtor, Nina, a quick text of apology. When I looked, there was one already there, saying she needed to push our appointment back ninety minutes.
Perfect. I could still get there. I might have been beaming because Aero asked me what was so great as soon as he hung up.
“Are you busy right now?” I asked instead of elaborating. “I’m heading to Old Town.”
“Pas
adena?”
“Yeah. I’ve got an appointment to look at some property.”
“Oh, investing already. I knew you BGG lawyers had a good cash flow, but places in Old Town don’t come cheap.”
“Believe it or not, I’m looking at a spot for the idea you gave me.”
“The gallery?”
He’d remembered, and without even having to do some kind of hesitant search of his memory. My stomach flipped like it had just flown off a trapeze. What man had ever remembered something I’d said outside of a business context? Aero’s eyes just got bluer and his shoulders broader, and my knee may have wobbled a little as he stared down at me with that hopeful, encouraging gaze.
“Yeah. The gallery.” Saying it aloud, especially to Aero, made it feel real, truly real, for the first time. “From what you said when we met, I started thinking, and then it all sort of started gelling in my mind, and here I am today, checking out rental space.” I looked up at those electric blue eyes and gave a soft shrug. “Thanks for the nudge.” I knew it was going to sound cheesy before I said it, but it came tumbling out anyway. “You said you specialized in hopes and dreams. Maybe you really do.”
The cheese just slathered all around now, like nachos from the vendor cart by the Ferris wheel, but I loved cheese, so there it was. I watched for Aero’s reaction, hoping he liked cheese too.
“Are you being serious right now? You’re actually opening an art gallery after our conversation?” He looked stunned, not cheese-repulsed, bless him. “And it’s in Old Town Pasadena. Wow. I’m heading there now. Maybe we should ride together.”
That I wasn’t expecting. “Uh, okay.”
“Your car will be fine here. I’ll pay the meter up. Let’s go.”
I tried to protest and get to the meter first with my debit card, but he waved me off and paid it up, bless him again. Then he got my door for me. What a gentleman in all the ways. I shushed the little butterflies singing opera in my chest.
The whole way to Old Town I kept eyeing his hand, wishing he’d reach over and take mine— without being blackmailed into it by a spoiled kid matchmaker. He didn’t. But he did ask me to pick my favorite radio station. I found one that played Sinatra and set the volume loud enough that I could sing along and have my off-key moments drowned out by Frank at the same time.
“My grandma would like you.”
“She would?”
“She had a thing for Frank back in the day. Still does, as far as I know.”
“What does your grandpa think of that?”
“Grandpa put up with it. He had better blue eyes than Old Blue Eyes, she always reminded him, so he never felt threatened.”
So that was where Aero got his. “He’s gone now?”
“For fifteen years.”
“Is she lonely?”
“She doesn’t say anything. She wouldn’t, of course. I live with her, you know.” Huh. I’d kind of pictured him as the swanky bachelor pad type, not the lives-with-his-grandma type. “The house is way too big for one person.” He gave a dry laugh. “It’s too big for twelve people.”
Oh, really? So I guess that made him the moneyed mansion type. Come to think of it, I could picture that Aero even more easily.
“You’ll have to show me sometime.” Did I really just say that? My face flushed hot.
“Sure.” He shot me a glance with a smile that made me stare at his lips and remember how his kiss had felt. Dang it. Just when I was starting to be able to focus at work again.
Traffic was light for this time of day, and we were there in half an hour. Nina was already waiting in front of the building, talking on the phone, pacing back and forth.
“Oh, good. You’re here. I really want you to have this, and out of the blue I had another person call me about it just now.”
I didn’t know if this was a sales tactic, but Nina didn’t need to use one on me. I’d had my eye on this place for two weeks, and I was ready to sign rental agreements right now.
“Come inside and take a look around.” She stuck a key in the lock and typed a code on the lockbox. “Is this your husband? Boyfriend?”
Did we look like a couple? My eyes flickered to Aero, and his mouth just tugged a half smile. At least he didn’t look alarmed.
“This is Aero Jantzen.”
Nina’s head popped up. “Oh! Hey. From New Holland bank.”
How did she know that? The financial world might be smaller than I realized.
“That’s right.” He held the door for Nina and me as we stepped inside.
“You’re her financial backer, then.”
Now he got the awkward grin. “We work together.”
“It’s complex,” I added. But before I could explain, we were inside the big, empty room that I’d only seen by peeking through the windows, and enchantment silenced me. I gaped at the soaring tray ceilings papered with creamy white, textured tiles; deep mahogany panels on the walls; beautiful art deco-style pendant lights; wall sconces putting off an incandescence that created the perfect warmth— not too bright, so as to damage the paintings and fade them, but not dim either. The place had a sophistication; it was enveloping and gallery-like.
“Come and see the other facilities.” Nina led us from room to room, each one a little different but great for what I needed. Between the wood panels and molding were plain plastered areas painted dark green and perfect for art display. Its hallways were already wide enough for wheelchair access, as was the restroom. Thank you, kind former-renter for preparing this just for me.
It just kept getting better. We followed her back through an orderly maze of rooms to a small room hung with deep green velvet curtains.
“This will be ideal for your star painting, I believe.” Nina pressed back the drapes and there was a spot just the right size for Woman Draped in Red. I could picture her there already, the culmination of the whole gallery experience for patrons. Getting emotional wasn’t my thing— I was a lawyer, after all— but man if I didn’t get a little misty-eyed as I looked around.
“What was this place in the past?” Aero asked.
“A law office.”
At that, I popped out with laughter. “That’s great.”
“You’ll feel right at home.” Aero got the joke and came over to stand by me. I could feel his strength beside me, and somehow it lent me bravado.
“I’m ready to sign.”
Nina clapped her hands and started going through her briefcase.
I pulled out my phone and opened my email.
“You’re not posting on social media about your rental, are you?” He leveled a skeptic’s eye at me. “Because you don’t seem like that girl.”
“No, I’m hitting send on a draft email I wrote earlier.” My finger hovered over the green box that would change my life forever once I pressed it.
“What does it say? Can I ask?”
“I’m giving my two weeks’ notice at BGG.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
“This calls for a celebration,” he’d said after I sent the life-altering email and finished the paperwork with Nina. “Let me take you to dinner.”
Dinner with Aero, our eyes meeting across a candle-lit table, our knees potentially brushing against one another, his nearness, his conversation, his blue eyes piercing to my very soul … I about melted under the heat that ignited in me.
“Yes.”
Six minutes later we sat just as I’d pictured, three doors down from my new, yet-unnamed gallery at a table in Hyatt’s Kitchen. I gazed at him across our table so small our knees touched. Cha-ching. Believe me, I didn’t complain about the close quarters. In fact, I may have rested my leg right up against his, pulsations revving in me in a steady stream.
Aero offered me a bite of his salmon. I took it straight from his fork, chewing a little self-consciously as he seemed to watch my mouth. Maybe it was for my reaction to the taste of his seafood, but there were a whole heckuva lot of other reactions going on inside me as well, believe me.
“
So, I guess this means you and I won’t be working together.” Did he say that with a hint of disappointment? I couldn’t tell. “What’s Ryker going to do without one of his parents?”
The better question was, what was I going to do without the near-guarantee of interacting with Aero Jantzen now and then? Even though I’d only spent an hour of Swept Away time with him and then the time at the Santa Monica Pier and dinner tonight— the biggest night of my new career— the thought of not getting to see him left a gaping hole inside me. It was ridiculous, I knew, to be forming an attachment to him. I barely knew him, for heaven’s sake.
Although I knew certain things about him, like the facts that he loved his grandma and was firm with teens who had a financially self-destructive bent. Not to mention, we’d tossed a lot of personal stories back and forth while we were stuck, run aground, in the tunnel of love, answering each other’s random questions both shallow and deep, which gave me what I’d term some background on the guy’s life and his likes and dislikes. I knew about his sense of humor and how he’d reacted to his worst dates ever.
The thought of not getting to continue peeling back the layers that made up Aero Jantzen bothered me a lot more than I would have expected. He’d invaded my thoughts and burrowed under my skin in a supremely short amount of time.
We were discussing Ryker’s latest commercial contract threats. Aero rolled his eyes skyward. “He’s going to stray, you know. Next thing, he’ll threaten to endorse Viagra. Or that grabby tool for people who can’t bend over and pick things up anymore.”
“Or the Clapper.”
“See? Exactly. He’ll become star of ‘As Seen on TV’ everything. You’re leaving him in danger. And I’m no lawyer. I’m good with financial contracts, but I’ll miss the clauses like those that bind him into exclusivity.”
“So, you’re saying you’ll miss me?” Where that had come from, I didn’t know. Suddenly whenever I encountered Aero Jantzen I could flirt? The ensuing bat of my eyelashes I swear was not premeditated.
Mergers & Acquisitions Page 5
