“Lianne, I’m sorry, but we have a professional relationship. That’s all. I admit that what happened in the canoe today was irresponsible and wrong, but can we all agree that it should never happen again? I’d like us to continue working together.”
Seb stiffened beside him but didn’t say anything.
“That’s what you want?” she asked, looking him right in the eye and holding his gaze. “Will, is that what you really want?”
No. That wasn’t what he wanted. Will wanted to run to her, and he wanted to tell her she was beautiful and perfect and amazing, but he couldn’t give her false hope. Their withdrawing was to protect her.
In the long run, at least.
So instead he held perfectly still and said, “Yes. That’s what I really want.”
Her brow furrowed, but she nodded. “And, Seb, that’s what you want, too?”
“Yes,” his brother answered gruffly.
“All right. You’d better get to work then. I’ve got things to do in here. I’ll e-mail if I have questions about anything.” Without waiting for them to reply, she whipped around, unlocked her front door, and stepped inside. She didn’t look back at them before closing the door.
“Shit,” Seb said from beside him, staring at the space Lianne had just occupied.
“Yep,” Will agreed.
* * * *
It had been three days—
three days
—since the incident on the canoes, and Lianne was still pissed off.
She’d walked around the house muttering the occasional curse every time she saw either Will or Seb’s face in her mind. She’d be looking for stains to squirt on her laundry, and Seb’s smile would suddenly appear.
“Asshat!” she’d shout.
She’d be taking her baked pasta out of the oven, and the twinkle in Will’s eyes as he’d suckled her breast was suddenly everywhere.
“Penis head!” she’d yell.
And it went on and on until finally Jamie got fed up and told her to cut that crap out.
Now, she was checking her morning e-mail and had to refrain from shouting out a fresh expletive. Will’s and Seb’s faces popped up in the Savage Valley Chamber of Commerce newsletter that she received every week, and she quickly hit
delete
without reading it.
She was supposed to have met them the day before to review an early list of potential distributers, but she’d chickened out. She’d given them some excuse about having a last-minute private consultation with a client, which was totally bogus, and she knew they probably knew it was totally bogus, but she just couldn’t face them.
She couldn’t imagine looking at them and not seeing their rejection of her. Who the hell did they think they were? Did they think that just because she’d never had sex with anyone that she was going to turn into some needy, desperate, warped version of herself the second that she did?
And why were they taking everything so seriously anyway? She thought they were having a good time on the canoe. It wasn’t like they’d never had casual relationships with women before. She knew they had. She hated that she knew, that she’d been obsessed enough to find those things out about them throughout the years. She thought she was over her schoolgirl fantasies, but now she realized they had never gone away. She’d just gotten really good at pretending they didn’t exist, and now she felt like the biggest fool in the world.
On the porch, she’d admitted everything to them—
everything
—and they still said no, still said they didn’t want her. She couldn’t look at them, which meant she couldn’t meet with them yesterday, which meant that she was behind on her work.
“Bastards!” she shouted to the empty house.
Her next e-mail popped up onscreen, and Lianne had to do a double take when she saw who it was from.
To Miss Lianne Seward:
Having recently spoken with my daughter, it has come to my attention that you are currently the founder and owner of a small business in Savage Valley and are looking to expand in the near future.
I took the liberty of perusing your online store and found myself quite intrigued by the unique yet thoughtful array of products available. And you make all of the products yourself, it seems. I had my assistant order samples for the office, and she herself particularly enjoyed Lianne’s Honey Salve as her hands had begun to dry out with the cold weather.
I’d like to propose a meeting with you. Say this Thursday? Eleven a.m. at Savage Hunger? Please bring your business proposal. Jamie told me of your visit with the local bank and their “partial” belief in your vision. As you know, NormCorp would have no difficulty in fronting you the monies and space necessary for this type of endeavor, not to mention our vast outreach in the business world, and I find myself thrilled with the idea of helping to bring your vision to life. Your honey products are just the thing Savage Valley needs to make a name for itself.
Sincerely,
Ulysses C. Norman
Lianne had to blink a few times before her mind could fully process what her eyes had read. It was the friendliest Mr. Norman had ever been to her. She’d only met him for a couple minutes at a time when he’d drop Jamie off in Savage Valley or pick her up during the summers she’d spent in town. He’d hardly even looked at her those times. Plus, with everything Jamie had told her about her father and with everything Lianne had heard from townspeople of late, Lianne’s initial reaction was to dismiss the e-mail and put foolish notions to rest.
But then, she was the one who had chastised Will and Seb for having a closed mind and for judging people before really getting to know them. She could at least have lunch with the guy and see for herself, in person, if his offer was genuine. Although, she couldn’t think of any other reason why he would want to meet with her.
She was Jamie’s best friend after all.
Jamie
did
live at her house.
Maybe this was her father’s odd attempt at getting closer to his daughter? Maybe this was his warped way of reaching out?
There was also a small part of Lianne’s mind that couldn’t deny the relief she felt. If Mr. Norman
did
fund her instead of the bank, if she
could
escape years of humiliation by not having to deal with the twins and their rejection of her, she would be a fool not to leap on that opportunity.
A vision of Seb and Will filled her mind. Only this time there were no smiles or twinkling eyes. This time there were only their cold, dispassionate expressions as she’d admitted her feelings on the porch.
Without further consideration, she popped her knuckles and began pounding out her reply.
Skyler Fischer watched the woman enter Savage Hunger. He’d nearly choked on his coffee when he saw her approaching from Main Street. Even bundled up with a scarf around her neck and a knit cap, she looked exactly like Ulysses’s daughter. He’d heard it said before, but the resemblance was simply astonishing.
Of course, before he’d come to meet with her, he’d done his research. He knew that when Jamie refused to work for her father, Lianne had offered Jamie a room in her parents’ house. He also knew that the two had been friends for many years even when they’d been attending different schools. He’d heard from one of the ladies at the salon that they’d known each other ever since they were about twelve, when Ulysses insisted his family live in Savage Valley long enough each year to maintain a residency in the small town. He hoped he could find a way through the course of their conversation to work in Jamie’s daddy issues. It could prove to be Lianne’s Achilles’ heel if he played it the right way.
The girl’s eyes scanned the room, probably looking for Ulysses. Of course he’d led the girl to believe she’d be meeting with him personally. He stood up from his chair and motioned her over. She heaved a large leather bag back up to the top of her shoulder and frowned, but then she began to make her way over, nodding at acquaintances as she passed. Skyler reviewed Ulysses’s instructions in his mind. They were rather short and to the point.
Offer Lianne the money.
Do not let her refuse.
Call when she has agreed.
The girl sat down across from him. “Ulysses said he’d be meeting me.”
“Yes, unfortunately, there was urgent business he had to attend to. He sends his deepest regards and hopes that you will forgive the last-minute change of plans.”
Skyler noticed her tense shoulders and the annoyance that flitted across her brow. “It’s not really okay, but I guess there’s not much for it since you’re here and he’s not.”
He smiled, liking her blunt assessment. After the waitress had come by and they’d exchanged a few mild pleasantries, Lianne waved her hand in a dismissive gesture.
“Look, I don’t really know you that well, Mr. Fischer, but I do know that your boss doesn’t have the best track record with his daughter. His absence today makes me doubt the wisdom of my agreeing to meet with him. Then again, I’m not really that surprised that he didn’t come. I was hoping he would, but he hasn’t. So before I go into my spiel, I want to ask you, is this a waste of time? Are you here to break the news gently?”
Skyler sat back, impressed by her straightforward approach and unflinching gaze, and he was interested to see where she would take this. “What news do you mean?”
Her eyes narrowed. “Did Mr. Norman have second thoughts? Am I going to spend an hour telling you about my business only to find out that you’ve known from the very beginning that there was no need for me to do so?”
“First of all, Miss Seward, thank you for your directness. You’ve made my job a lot easier. Second of all, while I can certainly understand your concerns, I am happy to assure you that the circumstances here are quite the opposite of what you imagine.”
“How do you mean?”
“You see, Ulysses is keen to make amends with his daughter. He knows that you have been a dear friend to her. He regrets that their relationship has fallen into such disrepair. He was hoping that through you, he could begin to have a bit of communication with his daughter again.”
One of her eyebrows shot up. “Oh really?”
“Of course, he’s not the type of man to come out and say those kinds of things to me, but I’ve worked for him for many years now. I’ve learned to understand what he’s saying even when he’s not saying it.”
“Ahh.” She frowned, watching him for a long moment, sizing up his words and what they could mean for her. “So what exactly did he say?”
“That I should offer you whatever you ask for and to call him the moment you’ve agreed to let him be your financial backer.”
She let out a whoosh of a breath.
“But what he
didn’t
say”—he leaned in, holding her gaze, making things uncomfortably intimate between them—“was that he misses her, that he would do anything to patch up the mess between them if he was a man who knew how to do such things, that he hopes you will help him. He hopes desperately for this. He’s willing to put anything and everything into your business for the chance at fulfilling this hope. Business is the one thing in this world that Ulysses C. Norman
does
understand. He hopes there is a bridge he can build to his daughter, and he wants your company to be the first brick that he lays, Miss Seward.”
He watched her closely throughout his speech. Her delicate brow was wrinkled. He’d noticed her swallowing deeply as he spoke. Suddenly she leaned forward, placing her hand over his. “Mr. Fischer, I need you to be completely honest with me.”
“Of course.” He didn’t break eye contact. He knew that was key in convincing others of sincerity.
“I’ve heard things about Mr. Norman. From what Jamie tells me, there are a lot of valid reasons why I should say no and not dip my fingers into a place they don’t belong. But I do care about Jamie. I know how unhappy she is with the way things stand between her and her father.
“And also, for personal reasons, working with NormCorp could…could…well, it could make things easier.
“So what I need know is do you believe what you just told me? Do you honestly think that’s what motivated Mr. Norman to e-mail me and send you here with such an impossible offer? Are you telling me the truth?”
He continued to hold her gaze. He held it for a long, long time. Long enough that the slithery thing that moved and whipped and thrashed around in his chest could settle down again. He let it slide away. He ignored its similarity to the way a conscience felt. He couldn’t let himself examine it. There were too many other things at stake. He
had
to convince her. He had to make her believe the version that would make her say yes, that would make him look good to Ulysses, that would get Skyler out of this shit hole of a town. He needed Ulysses to know that he was good, that he could do anything, that he could be trusted with any task, no matter how impossible.
So he let the real version of Ulysses’s motives slide away, all the while holding Lianne’s gaze. Then he said, “Yes. I am, Miss Seward. I’m telling you the truth.”
Her hands flew to her mouth, and he thought she was covering a smile, a trembling, joyful, relieved smile. “I know I don’t have to tell you that Mr. Norman would not appreciate our discussion of his hopes and dreams, and he would especially not appreciate his daughter becoming privy to those hopes and dreams.”
She nodded fervently, and her eyes were shining. Was she really about to cry? “Are you okay?”
“Yes. Mr. Fischer, yes, yes, yes.” She laughed outright, grabbing his hands and squeezing. “Yes!”
“Yes?”
“Yes! I’m saying yes!”
“You accept?”
She nodded. “I do. I very much do.”
So caught up in his conversation with the girl, he hadn’t noticed the two identical men entering the diner. He noticed them now, however, as they were marching toward him at an alarming rate, wearing matching expressions of fury.
“I think we may have incoming, Miss Seward.”