Rules of Negotiation (13 page)

Yes, he was good, but Tori had seen the best in action. Her father, Thad, had been devilishly handsome. Unlike Brit, who worked the dark and sexy angle, Tori’s father had a quick smile and roguish charm that women couldn’t resist. Like her mother, Tori loved him fiercely, though she always doubted he loved her back.

After he left, she knew the truth.

Tori hadn’t been surprised when he left. She’d always known she and her mother were too plain, too boring to keep her father’s attention for long. It was her mother who never seemed to recover. Always reserved, Jeanne had simply grown colder over the years, as if she had given up on people completely.

Tori had never forgotten her father’s lesson. And if Brit Bencher thought he was going to take her for a ride, he had another thing coming.

Chapter Thirteen

It was all Brit could do not to jump up and down as he watched Tori and Melissa talk during the rest of the game. He didn’t understand what was going on with Tori—she refused to look him in the eye and kept scooting away from him on the bench. But he told himself that was irrelevant. What mattered was that his plan was working. Tori and Melissa had begun engaging in that mysterious female bonding that a wise man didn’t try to understand. And once they did, there was no way Tori would be able to resist helping get Melissa a job.

He could barely retain a whoop of triumph.

Turning his attention to the field, Brit tried to pay attention to his nephew. He cheered at all the right times, gave the kid a thumbs-up sign when he walked off the field, and even went down to the bench along with Ross for a pep talk during the seventh-inning stretch. Yet throughout it all, Tori seemed to linger in the corner of his eye. Like a train wreck you try to ignore, but keep looking at through the rearview, Tori’s bright halo of hair and wickedly intelligent eyes kept calling him. Even when he was talking to Luke, he found himself glancing up at her, watching the way her breasts moved when she wiped the sweat from her brow, or the sparkle in her eyes when she laughed at something Joe said.

“You’ve got it bad, don’t you?” Ross chuckled over Luke’s head. Like several of the other boys, by the seventh inning Luke was more interested in his drink box and snack than in any coaching. The two men drifted toward the trees and left the boys to their sugar-fest.

Brit ripped his gaze away from Tori’s sweaty brow, briefly imagining the sheen of sweat that would cover her body later that night. He shook his head and tried to recall what his brother had said. “What’s that?”

Ross laughed. “Exactly my point. Who is this girl?”

“A lawyer,” Brit said.

“Not just any lawyer, apparently. Someone important enough to bring to Alessandro’s, and now to Luke’s game. Why haven’t you said anything about her? Are you two serious?”

Brit winced. Somehow, in the midst of his planning and scheming, he hadn’t considered what his family would think if he brought Tori to Luke’s game. He was lucky Tori herself hadn’t drawn any similar conclusion. “Good lord, no.” He looked over his shoulder to make sure Melissa hadn’t approached from behind and dropped his voice. “I’m hoping she can help Melissa. Without Melissa knowing.”

Ross’s eyes widened. “You’re kidding. She’s a…spy? A plant?”

“No, nothing like that! She happens to be the one person in the world who knows how to contact Garth Solen.”

“
The
Garth Solen?” Ross rolled his eyes. “Good grief, didn’t you do enough damage already by sending in Melissa’s resume?”

Brit paused and scratched his arm. He couldn’t quite meet his brother’s eyes. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Tori knows Solen, Melissa wants to work with Solen. I thought I should get them together.”

“Without telling Melissa.”

Brit nodded.

Ross blinked. “And for clarification—did you ask Tori out
before
or
after
you found out about her connection to Solen?”

“You’re making this sound bad,” Brit grumbled.

“I’m making this sound bad?” Ross said in disbelief. “You’re leading Tori on, on the off-chance that she and Melissa will hit it off, and somehow she’ll be able to get Melissa a job with Solen?” Ross shook his head. “That’s bad, even for you.”

“First of all, I don’t need her to get Melissa a job. I need her to give me Solen’s number.”

“And then
you’ll
get Melissa a job?”

“Melissa can get herself a job. I’m going to help break the ice. Besides, I’m not leading Tori on.” Brit scowled. “In case you might have missed it, she’s damned attractive. And she’s not interested in anything serious. We’re on the same wavelength.”

“Hmm.” Ross studied Brit. “You know, Melissa’s a grown-up now. We all are. There’s no reason for you to keep playing stand-in father.”

“I am not your father,” Brit said.

“I know that,” Ross replied, “but sometimes I wonder if you do.” He turned back to Tori, who was pulling her hair back from her face and laughing at something Joe was saying. “So you wouldn’t mind if I asked her out?”

“Don’t even think about it,” Brit snapped, louder and angrier than he had intended.

“That’s what I thought,” Ross said.

“Wipe that smug look off your face. You’ve got three kids and an ex-wife to deal with. You don’t need complications.”

“She doesn’t look complicated.”

“Oh, she’s complicated all right,” Brit said. “This morning she jumped down my throat when I even suggested that we were dating. And I had to practically beg her to stay in New York overnight, even though it was perfectly obvious she wanted me.” He was still mystified by her reluctance the day before. “I think she’s a workaholic, on top of it. Checks her cell phone every ten minutes, even when we’re at dinner. It’s like a tic or something. I don’t think she even knows she’s doing it.”

“That sounds terrible,” Ross said with a straight face. “You’re obviously sacrificing a lot for our sister. You should be proud of yourself.”

Brit fought with the urge to deck his brother, as he had so many times when they were boys. Instead, he contented himself with slapping him on the side of his head. “Shut up, will you?”

Ross grinned as he rubbed his head. “All right, tough guy. But when you get tired of dealing with all her complications, let me know. That’s what family is for.”

…

Brit rejoined Tori on the bench, wedging himself between her and a balding, middle-aged man who stood up and screamed at his son at regular intervals. Tori ignored him, moving her leg farther and farther away until she was sitting at an angle, her back almost completely to him. She seemed to be making a point of enjoying herself. With everyone but him. In fact, she seemed to have taken a sudden and complete dislike to the man who had brought her to this happy family gathering.

He told himself it was a positive development. She and Melissa were hitting it off and there was no chance she expected more from him than he was interested in giving. His plan was working. Yet for some reason, after an hour or so of the silent treatment, he was becoming annoyed. When Tori and Melissa wandered away to get a drink from a water fountain and Tori shot him a look of downright loathing, his irritation peaked. What had he done to deserve her distaste?

When they returned around the side of the bleachers, Tori and Melissa looked at each other and giggled. In case he hadn’t understood that they were laughing at him, Melissa shot a sideways glance at Brit, and the two of them erupted into peals of laughter.

Ross elbowed him and whispered, “I think your plan is working.”

“I can see that,” Brit said. He bared his teeth in an approximation of a smile and asked Joe about his latest project—a mixed-use housing development in New Jersey. As Joe began rambling about the challenges of securing funding for affordable units, his attention turned back to Tori. When she sat down on the other side of Melissa, as far away from him as possible, and sent one more withering look his direction, he’d had enough.

He excused himself to Joe, apologized to the Balding Screamer, and jumped out of the stands. “Tori, we’ve got that thing at four.” He nodded at Joe. “Tell Luke I thought he did a great job today.”

Delia rush out of the stands and caught him around the knee. “Don’t go!”

Brit threw her up in the air and gave her a last tickle before handing her back to Ross. Matt and Julia started to protest until he said, “I’ll see you two for dinner next week, remember? Grandma and Grandpa are coming to town.”

All three kids appeared mollified by the thought of seeing Grandma and Grandpa. Probably because Grandma and Grandpa usually brought presents whenever they returned from one of their trips.

Ever since his parents had retired, they’d been living the life they’d always wanted. Brit’s dad, John, spent time every day painting and drawing, while Brit’s mom, Phoebe, read through most of the great Russian authors. They sold the old brick house in Queens where Brit had grown up and moved to a tiny condo in SoHo. They went to gallery openings of obscure artists. His father’s uniform now consisted of a pair of paint-stained khaki pants and white T-shirts, while his mother wore flowing skirts, scarves, and caftans. They were happier than he’d ever seen them.

Not that he begrudged them the change. But it would have been a bit easier to swallow if part of their joy hadn’t stemmed from their complete lack of parental duties. They seemed to revel in their lack of responsibility. When Brit told them about what had happened to Melissa, they made worried noises for approximately five minutes before his father asked if Brit had seen his latest effort in watercolor, and his mother wondered out loud if her new oil painting looked better by the kitchen, or in the bedroom.

When it came right down to it, neither of his parents were particularly…well…
parental
. As long as Brit could remember, John had been hesitant, nervous, and tense. He was by nature an absentminded man with no head for details, and no stomach for the loud and physical antics of three active boys. John had inherited Excorp from his father, and been strong-armed into running it when his father’s health had failed. It was a role that never suited him. By the time he was thirteen, Brit had become the default leader of the family, forced into that role by his father’s refusal to take it.

Yes, John and Phoebe were much happier now. They relished the role of grandparent, where they could swoop down and deliver presents, receive adoration from their grandchildren, and then leave before they were asked to assume any responsibility.

Delia squeezed Brit’s hand. “I wuv Grandma,” she said. “But I like you better.”

He mussed her hair and gave her another hug. “I love you too, pumpkin.”

Tori was standing next to them, her body stiff with some unnamed frustration. Still, she managed to give Delia a friendly grin and say good-bye to Melissa and the others with an easy, genuine manner that was belied by the tense set of her shoulders.

As they began walking back to the car, Brit tamped down his own frustration. He couldn’t afford to alienate her completely, not now, when he was so close to success. He tried for calm. Perhaps she hadn’t liked being left on her own with Melissa. Perhaps she had felt ignored. Women didn’t like feeling ignored.

He used his most soothing, appreciative tone. “Thanks for coming with me. They’re nice kids, aren’t they? They seemed to take to you right away.”

She did not look at him, but her sandals slapped against the sidewalk as her pace increased.

He cleared his throat. Things were worse than he had thought. It was like walking next to a time bomb. “Er, is there something I should know about?”

“I’m not discussing it right now.” She bit out each word with a tight, military precision. “If I discussed it right now, I’d have to kill you with my bare hands. I’d prefer to wait until we get back to your apartment, so I can use a knife, or a blunt instrument.”

“I see.” He nodded, his mind sorting through possible reasons for the fury that shook her narrow shoulders. “That makes sense.”

“I might break a nail.”

“Of course.”

They walked in silence to the car, which was parked a few blocks from the park under the shade of a large linden tree. Brit opened Tori’s door first, before walking around to the driver’s side. He pulled open his door and left it open for a moment to let the heat disperse. Tori sat down on the hot leather seat, her face slowly turning from pink to red.

“Looks like you’re ready to leave.” Brit slid into the car and turned the air-conditioning on full blast. They drove the twenty-five minutes back to his place in silence.

The bomb continued to tick while Brit racked his brain for the reason why.

As they pulled to the curb beside his building, a terrible, sinking feeling settled over him. She had figured it out. Somehow, in the midst of all that bonding with Melissa, she had figured out his plan. It was the only explanation.

Brit jumped from the car and handed the keys to the valet. Tori stalked up to the front door, gave the doorman a polite nod, and marched inside. Following a few paces behind, Brit grimaced as Seth’s eyes met his.

“Looks like you’ve got trouble, Mr. Bencher,” Seth whispered.

“You don’t know the half of it, Seth.”

They rode the elevator a few steps apart. A soft chime announced the penthouse, and Brit motioned for Tori to precede him. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t slam the front door. The stained glass is fragile.”

“I’ll slam it if I damn well please,” she growled.

“All right then.” Though it was hardly a good time, his eyes lingered on her backside as she marched up the hall. Tori pissed off was even hotter than Tori not pissed off.

He unlocked the door for her and watched the swing of her hips as she walked through the entryway. Her hair was fast escaping the bonds of her ponytail, and it settled around her shoulders like a cloud of light following an avenging angel. He caught the door that she sent flying back at him, and then entered the apartment behind her.