Before I Do Amazon

by Freethy, Barbara

  "Do you bike in the gym or outside?"

  "Both." He shot her a quick look. "Do you like to ride?"

  "I did a lot of spin classes when I was rehabbing my leg, but I didn't ride outside. Too much traffic in the city."

  "There are some great rides outside of the city and down the coast."

  "That would be more fun. I don't like having to worry about cars. I get distracted very easily by pretty scenery," she added with a self-deprecating smile.

  And if he biked behind her, there was no doubt he'd be watching her instead of the road. "You should probably stay away from city streets then."

  "Exactly."

  "Your dad lives here?" she asked as he turned into an underground parking garage for a very tall building near downtown.

  "Forty-eighth floor, which is the top floor—the penthouse. My father likes to be on top of everything that he does."

  She eyed him with a speculative frown. "What is between you two? I know you didn't want to work for him and that you blame him for some of the problems in your parents' relationship, especially his inability to take your mom where she really wanted to go, but there's more, right?"

  "A lot more, years of bad conversations and misunderstandings." He shrugged, not sure what else to say. He couldn't explain a lifetime with his father in a few minutes.

  "And what?" she pressed.

  "Have you ever had anyone in your life who made it their goal to take you down, to try to make you feel like a lesser person?"

  "Carter did that, and I let him do it for too long, almost a year. I didn't realize it at the time. He claimed he was giving me helpful tips and constructive criticism. But I finally figured out that he just didn't like it when I came off better than him. Is that the problem with your dad?"

  "Yes. He's been putting me down my entire life. Whatever I do is not good enough. As his son, I'm a reflection of him, and he wants to make me into what he considers to be his perfect mirror image. But I'm not him. I don't want to be him. And at this point in my life, I don't really care if we ever have a relationship."

  "You must care somewhat or we wouldn't be going to this party."

  She had a point. "It's more that I'm just tired of fighting."

  She gave him a doubtful look. "That doesn't sound like you, Nick. You'll fight forever for what you want."

  "Well, then maybe I just want to call a truce. I don't want to hate him. I don't want to work against him. I just want there to be nothing between us, not even anger."

  "So you are trying to make some sort of peace with this appearance. I think that's good. Anger eats away at your soul. It's not good for you."

  "I agree. It's just not that easy to get rid of, especially when the anger goes back a long time."

  "Maybe getting the property your mom wanted, fulfilling her dream, will make it easier to let go of the resentment you have towards him."

  "It feels like it should help, but I don't know." He pulled into a parking space designated for visitors and shut off the car. "It's not just that he didn't take her on the trip, Isabella. That disappointment for her just symbolizes all the other times he let her down and let me down. It's not like I can't understand that that particular trip didn't work out for many different reasons."

  "It was just the last straw."

  "Yes," he said, meeting her sympathetic gaze. "If you want to know the real reason I'm going to this party, I'll tell you."

  "Well, good, finally!"

  "My father is my Achilles heel. Having any sort of emotion towards him or about that relationship weakens me. I don't like having any point of vulnerability. I need to cut the ties of anger, resentment, dislike and think of him as a stranger who means nothing to me."

  "That's not going to work, Nick."

  "I think it will."

  "You're always going to have an emotional tie to your father. I have a tie to my dad, and I haven't seen him since I was thirteen years old. He didn't try to make me over or make me feel less of a person; he didn't care enough to even think about me."

  "I'd prefer it if my father were absent from my life."

  "That's easier to say when it's not true. But it's not just the part in your statement about your father that bothers me; it's that you consider caring about someone to be a weakness. You can't go through life like a robot. Business isn't everything. You could be the richest man in the world. You could have a thousand hotels, but it wouldn't change the fact that you need to love well as much as you need to live well."

  Her passionate words made him want to love her, but love was weakening. It was painful and sometimes crippling, and he'd seen too many people falter in their careers and in their lives because they cared too much about what the wrong person thought.

  Maybe if it were the right person…maybe then love would make a difference.

  "Let's go to the party," he said abruptly. He got out of the car and waited for her to do the same.

  She slammed the door as she exited. "I didn't think our conversation was over," she said with annoyance.

  "For now it is."

  "Just for the record, Nick, I don't like it when people tell me I'm done talking. Carter used to cut me off all the time. When he decided he'd had enough of a subject, we were done. That doesn't work for me."

  He nodded, seeing the seriousness in her eyes. "Got it. And just for the record, Isabella, I heard everything you had to say. I just need to think about it."

  His words dimmed the anger in her eyes.

  "Okay, good."

  He smiled. "Are we good, because there are going to be enough people at this party who don't like me. I'd prefer that the woman I'm with doesn't feel the same."

  She sighed and gave him a frustrated smile. "I wish I didn't like you. That would make it easier."

  He knew exactly what she meant.

  * * *

  Nick's father was tall; he hadn't lied about that. Isabella looked at the dark-haired, blue-eyed man who stood out in the crowded living room, not just because of his height, but also because of his manner, his charisma. Maybe the attention was centered on him because it was his birthday, but it was more likely it was because of the kind of man he was.

  "That's him. That's Thomas Hunter," Nick said.

  "I figured. You have similar features." She saw the tense lines around his eyes and mouth, and she impulsively took his hand in hers.

  For a moment, he looked startled. She thought he might pull away, and then his fingers closed around hers.

  "I've got your back," she said softly.

  His gaze darkened. "I don't think anyone has ever said that to me before."

  In that moment, she realized another truth about Nick. He'd grown up lonely, without a strong team behind him. No wonder he'd had to build such a strong wall around his heart and his emotions. He saw caring as a weakness because he'd felt weak as a child, wanting his parents' attention and love. But his mom and dad had apparently been too caught up in their own battles to see that their child needed more than he was getting.

  She was very lucky that her mother had put her first even though it had made her life a lot more difficult. And while she hadn't been as close to her mother because of her many jobs, she'd always known that her mother was working to make her life better. She suspected that Nick felt his father had only worked to make his own life better.

  "Nick."

  The loud, booming voice of Thomas Hunter made Nick stand even straighter, and Isabella felt herself doing the same thing as if she, too, needed to square her shoulders and lift her chin and prepare for battle. This wasn't her fight, but she'd just declared herself as Nick's backup, so she needed to be ready.

  "Dad," Nick said shortly. "Happy Birthday."

  "Thanks for coming," Thomas said.

  An awkward moment followed his words. The two men had made no move to physically connect with each other—no handshake, no hug, no slap on the back. The two feet of air between them couldn't be breached.

  "Nicholas, how lovely that you could
come." The woman standing next to Thomas didn't have the same reservations about touching. She came forward and extended her arms to Nick.

  He let go of Isabella's hand to accept the woman's embrace, but he didn't really soften or smile. He was just being polite, she thought.

  "Erica," he said. "You look beautiful as always."

  "You're so sweet to say so."

  Erica was a beautiful blonde with a stunningly pretty face. She was probably mid to late thirties. And it would have made more sense to see her with Nick than with his father, but obviously having a young, pretty girlfriend was part of Thomas Hunter's persona.

  Erica stepped back and put her arm around Thomas's waist. "Your father and I were hoping you would come."

  "Well, I'm here. This is Isabella Martinez—my father, Thomas Hunter, and his girlfriend, Erica Fox."

  "It's nice to meet both of you, and Happy Birthday, Mr. Hunter," she added with a smile.

  "Thank you," Thomas said. "Let's get you two some drinks." He motioned for a waiter. "Daniel will take care of you. Anything you want."

  Isabella had a feeling that what Nick wanted was to be gone, but he did manage to order a gin and tonic from the waiter while she asked for a glass of wine.

  "I have some people coming later that I want you to meet," Thomas said as the waiter left and Erica drifted away to speak to other friends. "David Adams from the Danforth Hedge Fund has an opportunity he wants to speak to you about. I think you should seriously consider it."

  "I'm aware of his opportunity. I already told him I wasn't interested."

  Thomas frowned. "How could you not be interested? The possibility of tremendous financial return is right in front of your face."

  "It would require a larger investment than I'm willing to make right now. That money is earmarked for other ventures."

  "You're not still talking about Argentina?"

  "Plans are moving forward," Nick said evenly.

  Isabella could see the strain in Thomas's eyes at that piece of news.

  "It was a picture in a magazine that she liked, that's all it was, Nick. She never meant for you to build your whole life around it. I thought you would have figured that out by now. There's no room for sentiment in business."

  "I'm going to buy the land in Argentina next week."

  Thomas blew out an angry breath. "Well, fine, do it already. Then maybe you can move on."

  "Like you have with Erica?" Nick bit out.

  Isabella tensed, feeling the air grow thicker between them. They hadn't raised their voices, but their conversation was drawing the attention of some of the other guests, something she was sure that Nicholas would not want. It was time for backup.

  "I'd love to see more of your beautiful home, Mr. Hunter," she interrupted. "Would it be possible to get a tour?"

  He stared at her like she'd just asked him to show her the moon. Even Nick seemed bewildered by her sudden entrance into the conversation. She wasn't surprised. Their discussion hadn't really been about the land in Argentina but a lifetime of dissenting opinions and the inability to connect with each other.

  "Of course," Thomas said finally. "I'd be happy to show you around.

  "Great." She was thrilled that the waiter arrived at just that moment with her wine glass. "We'll be back," she told Nicholas.

  "Take your time," he said shortly, draining his gin and tonic in one long swallow.

  * * *

  "There are three bedrooms and a den. This is the master suite," Thomas said as he led her into the massive and luxurious bedroom. One thing both father and son shared was a love for the finer things in life. "Erica did the decorating. That's how we met. She's an interior designer."

  "She did an amazing job. I love the colors. So many people just use white. Or they pick off-white and think they're being adventurous."

  He smiled, starting to relax. "Where did you meet my son, Isabella?"

  "At my dance studio. I'm giving him tango lessons."

  Thomas couldn't have looked more shocked. "Seriously?"

  She nodded, not going into the reasons behind Nick's decision to learn the tango. "He'll be very good once he manages to loosen up and not worry about being perfect."

  Thomas stared back at her. "He's talked to you about me, hasn't he?"

  "A very little bit," she said honestly. "But I can see there's tension."

  "That's putting it mildly." Thomas paused. "Is he unhappy that I'm with Erica?"

  "He never mentioned her to me."

  "I know she's a lot younger than I am, and most people think she's some sort of a trophy, but the truth is she just makes me feel like there's more to life. I like her positive attitude. She has so much self-confidence. I never have to worry about having to constantly pump her up, make her feel worthy. That can be exhausting."

  She had the feeling he was talking about Nick's mother now.

  "Are you and Nick serious about each other?" he asked, abruptly changing the subject.

  "Oh, no. We're just—friends."

  "Too bad. You seem like a smart woman."

  "How would you know that?"

  "You separated us before we could make a scene or throw a punch at the other." He gave her a dry smile. "We've never gotten along. I try to help Nick, but he wants nothing to do with me."

  "Maybe you should stop trying to help him and just be his father."

  "What kind of father doesn't try to help his kid?"

  "I don't know. I'm not the expert on fathers. My dad wasn't even around when I was growing up. But I will say this. I think the fact that Nick is here shows there's hope for a better relationship—if you both decide you want to try for that."

  "I hate to see him make mistakes because he's trying to make something up to his mother. She wouldn't have wanted him to do what he's done."

  "Be successful?" Isabella challenged. "She wouldn't have wanted that?"

  "She wouldn't have wanted him to chase a foolish dream she had one day sixteen years ago."

  "I don't know if the dream was foolish or if Nick is still chasing it, but from what I can see of his business, it's not just about his mother's dream vacation spot. He's built a successful chain of hotels. He's young to have accomplished all that he has. And if you want my opinion—"

  "I have a feeling you're going to give it to me even if I don’t want it."

  "I do have a tendency to butt in," she admitted.

  "What's your opinion?"

  "Nick takes after you, not his mom. He may have taken a different path, but if you really look, I think you'll see that your son is more like you than even he wants to be."

  Thomas grinned. "I know he sure as hell doesn't want to be like me. I like you, Isabella. I hope you stick around, and I'm not just talking about the party."

  She was saved from answering by Erica's appearance in the bedroom. The younger woman gave them both a somewhat suspicious look.

  "I thought you two got lost," she said, putting a possessive arm around Thomas. "Nick is looking for you, Isabella."

  "Thanks for showing me around, Mr. Hunter."

  "Please call me Thomas."

  "I will. I'd better find Nick."

  She was on her way back to the party in the living room when she saw Nick standing by the window in the den. He was gazing out at the view, and there was something about his hard profile that made her heart turn over. She knew now that the hardness was a cover for a kind, loving and loyal heart. But Nick rarely let down that cover.

  "What are you doing in here?" she asked.

  He jolted at her words, then turned his head. "Taking a break. I didn't think the apartment was that big. You've been gone a long time."

  "I was talking to your dad."

  "About what?"

  "You."

  He frowned. "You could have at least tried to pretend I wasn't the topic."

  "Since you're pretty much the only thing your dad and I have in common, I didn't think you'd believe me." She paused for a moment. "He loves you, Nick."

&n
bsp; Nick immediately shook his head. "He loves his idea of me, not who I really am."

  "I don't think you show him who you really are."

  "I used to. It didn't go well. It doesn't matter. I'm not going to change his mind about me, and he's not going to change my mind about him. Coming here was a mistake."

  "No, it wasn't. You have to keep trying."

  Nick gave her a sharp, warning look. "Isabella, you can't fix us, no matter how hard you try. Our relationship broke decades ago."

  "Your mom was a bridge between you two, and when she died, you lost your bridge. But maybe someone else could help connect you."

  "Someone like you?"

  "Or Erica, or one of your other friends. I'm just saying I think you could have a relationship if you could find your way out of the past, forgive each other for some of the disappointments."

  "I don't need a relationship with my father."

  "Don't you? I wouldn't say anything if I thought you were happy with the way things are between you, but you're not. And we're here in your father's house. So why not talk to him?"

  "I already spoke with him. He's trying to get me to make an investment I don't want to make."

  "So don't talk business."

  "We have nothing else in common."

  She wondered if that were really true.

  "I don't want to talk about him anymore."

  "Then let's mingle."

  His expression filled with distaste, and she couldn't help but laugh. "It is a party, Nick. That's what you do. There must be someone here you'd like to talk to."

  "I'm talking to her," he said, gazing into her eyes. "Let's get out of here."

  "After we get some food, I'm hungry."

  "I'll buy you dinner anywhere you want."

  "There's a beautiful buffet in the next room. We're here, Nick. Let's give it thirty minutes before we bail."

  "I thought you had my back."

  "I do. I'll be right behind you. Trust me, Nick. It's going to be fine. You might even have fun."

  Chapter Fourteen