by Kelly, Erika
No more fucking around.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Since he’d come back from the bathroom—or wherever he’d gone—Ryan hadn’t taken his attention off his phone. Sophie watched from across the table, as he shoveled food into his mouth while reading the screen.
She couldn’t gauge his mood. He just seemed…distracted. “Is everything all right?”
“Hm?” His fingers tapped on the keypad.
“Ryan?”
Her sharper tone had his gaze flicking up. “Yeah?”
“Is everything all right?” She gestured to the phone.
“Sure. Yeah. Just…catching up with everybody. You know.”
“No, I don’t know.” And what did that mean, catching up with everybody?
His brow creased as he read a text that just came in.
“Did your teammates find out?” She couldn’t think of any other reason his phone would be blowing up.
“What?” His impatience felt like such an insult.
She understood if he was dealing with his friends finding out about his lie, but he didn’t have to be so rude. It wasn’t like him. “If there’s something going on, just go and deal with it.”
He stilled, phone propped in one hand, fork in the other. “Sorry.” He let out a long-suffering breath. “Let’s just eat.”
“We can get it to go. Would that work better for you? Doggy bags for my three star Michelin-rated dinner?” Her sarcasm went unnoticed. Okay, he had a lot going on. She’d give him the benefit of the doubt. “Did you hear from your coach?”
“No.” Terse, cold. The man had shut down. “So. Any news on your business situation?” With that tone, he might’ve been talking to the waiter about settling the bill.
She studied him a moment. He’d been all over her before the waitress had brought the water—had that freaked him out? He wasn’t used to losing control. Or maybe he’d talked to Emma. Maybe she was pressuring him to get back together.
You know what? It doesn’t matter what happened. You don’t treat someone like this no matter what you’re going through. He wanted to change the conversation? Fine.
Toying with the pecan-crusted Chilean sea bass, she set her fork down. “Not news, really. I talked to my brothers. They’re all on board with Abby’s plan. Which, of course, I expected.” Although, truthfully, little butterfly wings of hope had beaten underneath that expectation. She’d wanted at least one sibling on her side.
“What did they say?”
“I didn’t actually talk to them. I emailed Mark and texted the other two. So we didn’t get into it. They just said the offer was too good to pass up. Anyway, I’ve been thinking about it a lot, and it just seems like if I move forward with my effort to keep Crazy Hearts, then I pretty much lose my family.”
“That’s one way to look at it.”
“It’s the most important way to look at it. My family means more to me than a business deal.”
“I thought Crazy Hearts was about a great grandmother in England who’d made a cookie that was so good it was passed down for generations. When did it become a business deal?”
Right. She’d forgotten that for a moment there. “You’re right.” She sat back. “You’re totally right.” She picked up her fork, driving the tines through the soft white fish. “My sister just had a baby, and she’s having a hard time. She’s not getting much sleep, so she’s kind of…”
“Selfish?”
Her gaze snapped up to him. “Emotional.”
“Whatever. Your life, your choice.”
“Yes, that part couldn’t be clearer to me.”
“What’s not clear is why they can’t do their organic thing, while maintaining Crazy Hearts. It’s the reason Valentine’s has a reputation. No one cares about the other crap you sell.”
She hadn’t told him what Nestlé had offered. “It’s a stupid amount of money.”
“How much?”
“A lot.”
He shrugged. Whatever. “At least you’ll all be set for life.”
“That’s a stupid thing to say.” Why was he talking like this? “I should be happy with the cash, live a life of leisure?” Anger rippled beneath her skin. “Besides, I’ll be sick knowing someone else is running Crazy Hearts. Maybe even changing it.”
“Well, Sophie, it’s really not that complicated. You either give your consent and get on board with their new brand of organic and sustainable products and stock up on Crazy Hearts at CVS every February like the rest of the world, or you figure a way to buy out your siblings and run it yourself.”
Irritation blasted through her. “Not complicated?” Why was he being such a jerk all of a sudden? “Right, of course. Such a simple choice between buying a company I have no clue how to run and alienating my siblings, or kissing my family’s legacy goodbye.”
“And enjoy a lifetime of financial freedom.”
“I already have that. It doesn’t buy nearly as much as you think.”
He held her gaze, and for a moment she thought she might have broken through. That he’d come back. He had that look in his eyes—like he was really seeing her.
Joy bloomed in her heart. She wanted him to talk it through with her. She needed his perspective. “I know nothing about running a business.”
But just when she thought he was leaning toward her, that he was about to reach for her hand, he pushed back in his seat. “You should talk to my buddy Jake. His family runs Cellular Integration. They started out making cell phones, but they’ve expanded into other businesses. It’s family run, just like yours. Jake’s been involved since he was a kid. In fact, you and Jake have a lot in common.” A smile crept over his features. “I’ll have to hook you two up when we get back.”
Her fork clattered on her plate. “What the hell does that mean?”
“Just what I said.” He shrugged. “He can talk to you about running Crazy Hearts, give you a chance to see if it’s something you can handle.”
“You said hook me up. With a stupid smile.”
He looked so put-out. “Can we not do drama right now? I’m saying my friend can help you. That’s it, okay?”
“You made it sound like you were setting me up with him.”
“No.” His shoulders went rigid. “That’s not what I meant.” He huffed out a breath. “You know what? Why the fuck not? I’m leaving, so it really doesn’t matter who you hang out with.”
“Why are you being like this? Just talk to me.”
“Jesus Christ, Sophie. Would you give me a break here? The last thing I want to do is talk. Can you just leave it alone?”
“That’s kind of hard to do when you’re passing me off to your friend. Look, obviously something happened when you went to the bathroom.”
“Nothing happened.” He sounded like he was placating her, and the idea that he would treat her like his needy ex—or all the other people in his life that wanted something from him—drove her crazy.
“Cool. So I imagined it then? That you went from practically having sex with me at the table to setting me up with Jake?”
His gaze, fixed on something just over her shoulder, narrowed, and he sat perfectly still. After a tense moment, he exhaled roughly.
And then, as if looking into a camera lens, he let loose his signature smile. Oh, my God. All that was missing were the damn aviators. “Not passing you off, babe. Just trying to help you out.”
She thought she’d known him. That they’d had some kind of special connection. God, was she stupid. You don’t know someone in three days.
She looked at the third course samplings set before her. Not even halfway through her feast, and she’d lost her appetite. She’d so looked forward to the desserts. “Are you going to snap out of it any time soon?”
He maintained that stupid smile. His phone buzzed, and he read the screen. He snickered and then started tapping away.
This was not her Ryan. Her Ryan wouldn’t engage in a text conversation at the dinner table of a three-star restaurant.
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br /> She’d had enough. “I don’t know what happened in the fifteen minutes you left the table, but I do know I’m not going to sit here and let you treat me like crap.” She reached for her clutch, slid out of the booth, and took off.
Eyes stinging, she blinked back the tears.
This was why she didn’t sleep with guys right away.
Had she held off a couple days, she would’ve seen his true colors.
“Can you keep a secret?” Cradling the phone between her shoulder and her ear, Sophie pushed the elevator call button.
“You know I can, sweetie.” Even though only eighteen months separated her mom and her aunt Georgie, the sisters couldn’t have been more different. Where her mom had lived in Beverly Hills, presiding over charitable organizations and running a corporation, her aunt lived on a ranch in Montana. She rode horses, hiked, fished, and skied.
Sophie hadn’t known her aunt well until she’d moved in after her parents had died. In those two years, Aunt G had felt more like a mom to her than her own. Maybe because she’d been older, and her aunt had spent so much time with her. In any event, she knew she could trust her with the news. “We have an offer to buy Crazy Hearts. And Abby and my brothers want to take it.”
“Really?” After a moment, her aunt said, “How do you feel about that?”
“I hate it.” Tears blurred her vision. The bell dinged, and the doors parted. She stepped inside.
“And you’ve talked about it with them?”
“Yes.” She blinked several times to clear the moisture so she could see which button to push for her floor. “I even called Barry, just to see if I had any say in this.”
“Oh, my love, you absolutely have a say. What did you learn?”
“That, according to the trust, it isn’t about a majority rule. All five of us have to agree.”
“And you shared this with your sister?”
Interesting how she didn’t include her brothers. “Yeah.”
“I’m going to guess that didn’t go over well.”
“She thinks we’d be stupid to pass up an offer that not only isn’t even close to the value of the business but will never come our way again.” She let out a shaky breath. “I know they think I’m an unsophisticated businesswoman for not understanding why this money—and, Aunt Georgie, it’s a lot—is so much more important than a cookie. And I’m sure I am. But, come on, Crazy Hearts? I have to do something.”
“Of course you do.”
“I’m not going to take my brothers and sister to court or anything, but I do want to explore my options.”
“And what does Barry say about that?”
“He told me I can use my shares to buy them out, but…do you think I can run Crazy Hearts on my own?”
“Sweetheart, I don’t know enough about it, but I think you can do anything you set your mind to.” She paused. “And, most importantly, I think you can hire the people necessary to run it, so yes, I think you can run it on your own.”
“God, when I think about the amount of money. It’ll basically set up a Valentine dynasty.” She forced a laugh.
“What do you think your parents would’ve done?” her aunt asked quietly.
And just like that her rocked world settled comfortably back into place. “They wouldn’t sell. They would never even consider the offer.” She knew it without a doubt.
“I’m pretty sure that’s why they set up the trust the way they did, sweetheart. That’s what your mom told me. So one generation can’t undo the work of the ones before it.”
“That’s exactly what Barry said. But, um, there’s something else. Abby and my brothers want to rebrand the company. Become sustainable and organic, which would mean they couldn’t produce Crazy Hearts in the same facility.”
“Ah. That would be a problem.”
And here’s the tricky part. “It would mean I’d have to build my own plant. Unless I wanted to change the cookie. You know, make it organic.”
“Is that what you want? To go in the same direction as Abby and the boys? Or do you want to keep it the same?”
“I could look into changing it, but I can’t see the harm in a cute little cookie. We’re not talking about a staple food of the American diet. We’re talking about a beloved Valentine’s Day treat.”
“I agree. So we’re talking about a new facility.” She paused. “Which would mean you’d have to split off completely from your sister and the boys.”
The idea of her siblings hating her sliced deeply. “I have no idea if I could afford to build a new one. Plus, hiring people, taking on all the administrative stuff. I mean, God.” Pressure built inside her chest. “It’s too much, right? It’s way beyond what I can handle.”
“Well, hang on. I don’t know how you feel about living in Montana, but I happen to have that big events building just sitting here on my property. What do you think about that?”
The car settled and the doors parted. Sophie strode out into the softly lit hallway. A fuse lit deep in her belly, sending warmth along her limbs. “I like it.”
“Building’s yours if you want it. You know the house is plenty big enough for you to live here with me, too.”
“I think I’d want to live on the mountain.” Oh. Living in Montana. She’d never even imagined living there, but it would be perfect for her.
“Yeah. I can see that.”
“But I don’t want my family to hate me.”
“Sweetheart, you’ve waited an awfully long time for your sister and brothers to bring you into the fold. Maybe it’s time you lived your own life. Take some chances, see how things turn out.”
Fishing her card out of her clutch, she swiped it and let herself into her room. “If I move away, I won’t ever get a chance to be included in their lives.”
“And how much longer are you willing to wait for that to happen? You’re almost twenty-two.” Her aunt went quiet. “I had the impression you didn’t exactly love living in that house.”
The ache of that loneliness filled her. “I hate it.” Sophie had grown up there, and it had never felt like a home. Sixteen-thousand square feet of high ceilings and huge rooms just highlighted the fact that she lived there alone. Her siblings didn’t want to sell it, but that was because they had memories of big Christmases and birthdays and their friends making use of the game room and theatre, the pool and tennis court. But Sophie didn’t have those memories.
She could distinctly remember sitting at the kitchen table dying her Easter eggs, while Dorothea, the housekeeper, kept her company as she cleaned the kitchen, humming some tuneless song.
“Then let it go. Stop waiting for them to finally see you and start living your own life.”
“It’s hard.”
“I know. But when you’ve reached your limit, it won’t be hard anymore. Is there anything I can do?”
“You’ve just done it. I have a lot to think about. Thanks, Aunt Georgie. I’ll talk to you when I get back.”
“Love you, angel.”
“Love you, too.”
Sophie unzipped her dress and let it drop to the floor. She kicked off her shoes, one flying under the desk, the other to the foot of the bed. As she headed into the bathroom, she peeled off her bra, flipped on the lights, and started the shower.
Her thoughts immediately went to Ryan. He must be on his way back to the resort. He couldn’t possibly think she’d welcome him into her suite, not after he’d tried pimping her out to his friend. What a jerk.
As she stepped into the tiled shower stall, closing her eyes as the water streamed down her body, she thought of his exasperation when she’d pressed him in the car.
I don’t know, and I don’t care.
Not a half hour later, he’d tried to get her off at the table. He wanted to have fun. Sexy times. He wanted to get away from his problems. And you just won’t let up.
Mortification slammed her hard.
No matter how many excuses she came up with for Ryan’s bad behavior toward her—his coach, his ex
, practically having sex at the table—one thing she had to face was that she hadn’t let up on him since she’d met him. Why did she keep pushing him so hard?
Maybe he was finally just pushing back. His way of telling her to mind her own business. Because he sure wouldn’t come right out and say it. Not his style.
She lowered her head, letting her hair stream down, curtaining her. She could keep telling herself she was just having fun with a guy who made her feel like a goddess, but it wasn’t true.
The truth was she had hope. Hope that he felt the same way—that he wanted more.
Stupid, stupid girl.
A gust of cool hair whisked around her legs, and she jerked up to find the shower door open. Ryan stood there. Her Ryan. He looked miserable. She turned off the faucet. “What the hell are you doing?” She shoved the hair off her face and covered her breasts with an arm.
Snatching the towel she’d placed on the lid of the toilet, she quickly wrapped up in it. He stepped inside the shower stall, fully clothed, and tugged her into his arms. Turning into her neck, he said, “I was a dick.”
Her anxiety finally crashed. “Yeah, you were.” She didn’t lift her arms. “You done now?”
He tightened his hold. “Yeah.”
“What happened?”
He sat on the bench that ran the length of the stall, reached for her arm, and tugged her closer. Settling her on his lap, he pressed kisses to her cheek. “Got a message from my agent. He wants to know if I’ll be back for the next game.” He leaned back against the tiled wall. “I feel like shit for letting everyone down.”
“So go back.”
“I am.” Each word snapped out of his mouth loaded with anger and frustration.
“But?”
“But there’s this fucking wall of resistance in me.”
“Come on, Ryan. You’re a smart guy. You know exactly why you pulled a runner this week.”
He stroked wet tendrils off her forehead, her cheek, her shoulder. “I couldn’t have picked a worse time to start questioning my choices.”
“That’s the first time you’ve admitted it.”
He exhaled roughly. “I can’t let everyone down.”
