“Are we going to lose the contract?”
Stefan shook his head. “It’s complicated, and Alex Volikov is a pain in the ass.”
“How bad do we need it?” she asked, surprised she was actually interested.
“We don’t need it, but it would be a nice insurance policy for the plant in north Mississippi. But we can’t cut the price in half to compete with Maretti. We’re not going to. Maretti thinks if we lose this deal, we’ll take the company public to raise capital. That’s what he wants, not the Russian contract.”
“Why does Andreas Maretti want us to go public?”
“I’m sure he’d buy in,” Stefan said, rubbing his eyes. “But we’re actually pretty sure Judge Robicheaux’s behind all this.”
“Madlyn’s grandfather?” Jen said, sitting up straighter.
“The old man overheard Nic tell my father that he thought the stock would value really high for an initial offering because a lot of funds would want it for their portfolios to show they invest in domestic manufacturing. Good PR for them. An obscene amount of cash for STI.”
Her fingers pushed through her hair and Stefan paused, watching her closely. When she looked up at him finally, she only looked tired. He let himself relax just a little. He never knew how she’d react when he discussed the company with her, but right now, her eyes were clear if a little confused.
“Why would Madlyn’s grandfather care about STI?”
For a split second, he wasn’t sure what to say to her. He could answer the question several different ways, but he knew what her reaction would be to each answer, and he wasn’t prepared for any of that right now. He started to answer, when she asked,
“Do
you
want to go public?”
Grateful for the unexpected reprieve he jumped at it. “If we go public, we lose a lot of control. It will be hard to keep manufacturing domestically. We’ll probably end up manufacturing overseas within ten years just to keep profits where investors would demand. It might be a lot of money up front, but it’s not worth it in the end.”
Jen nodded. “I agree. I don’t ever want to manufacture my dad’s designs overseas. He wouldn’t want that either.”
“No,” Stefan agreed. “He wouldn’t.”
“So what are you going to do?”
He fought back a yawn as he wiped his hand over his face. “I’ve already done it. Matt is going to release a story in the morning that STI is going ahead with the expansion in north Mississippi and any contracts involving the Russians were strictly rumors.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Yeah, but Volikov will. I just told him to go fuck himself.”
“So we are going to lose the contract.”
“Not a chance. Now, enough shop talk. Get some sleep.”
“Stefan,” she stopped him when he turned towards the door.
He paused but didn’t turn around immediately. He closed his eyes and prayed just a little that she would let it drop. “Yeah?”
He turned when she hesitated. He found her watching him, brown eyes so careful. His hand tightened on the door frame. “We really need to talk,” she said slowly. “About us,” she added.
“Okay, but not tonight. I’m wiped, Jen, really.”
He held his breath and let it out when she smiled, her face going all soft and lovely. His entire body tightened and he held onto the doorway until he was sure he would continue out of it instead of doing what he really wanted to do, which was slide under those blankets and suck that slightly fuller bottom lip into his mouth and lose the rest of himself in her.
“Okay,” she said, easing down under the covers and pulling the blankets up. Her head touched his pillow and he thought he really was going to just drop dead right there. “Night.”
“Night,” he growled and stalked out of his bedroom while he still could.
“You’re gonna punch a hole in this thing,” Rogan said, coming downstairs from the apartment over the carriage house to the gym Stefan had built on the first floor. He caught the punching bag and held it still. Stefan continued to pummel it without saying anything, harder now that Rogan held it. “Oookay...” Rogan said, “Things not working out with the hottie you came home with earlier? I didn’t see her leave. Did the limo not impress her?” Rogan snickered. Stefan ignored him, hitting the bag harder.
Rogan wouldn’t let up. “I admit, I’m surprised you would bring a girl here. I thought this house was for Jen.”
Stefan froze, mid-punch, his eyes meeting Rogan’s across the bag. “That was Jen.”
Rogan laughed, then stopped when he realized Stefan was serious. “That couldn’t have been Jen. Her legs went on forever.”
“You don’t get to notice how long her legs are,” Stefan warned him.
“No way. That was Jen?” Rogan grinned. “Paris was good for her.”
“Yeah,” Stefan said, slamming his fist into the bag again. He could bloody his knuckles all he wanted but it wasn’t going to help. He needed to run. Stefan crossed to the refrigerator, pulled out a bottled water for himself and tossed Rogan a Long Neck.
Stefan tried to change the subject. “Angie still in Houston?”
“No, Miami. Working on Nic’s latest hotel.”
“She file the paperwork?”
Rogan’s expression went dark. “Can’t file it if I don’t sign it.”
Stefan leaned back against the counter. “Man, we’ve been through this.”
Rogan shrugged, finishing the beer in record time. “She’s not divorcing me.”
Stefan almost laughed at that. He’d known Rogan most of his life. Rogan was the third oldest of eleven kids raised in a one bathroom house. He was nothing if not patient, but Angie sent Rogan off the rails like nothing Stefan had ever seen. Until today, Stefan had never quite understood how Rogan could lose it so bad. After watching Jen catwalk towards him at the airport, Stefan was starting to have sympathy for his oldest friend.
“How are you going to stop her?”
Rogan’s expression went darker. “She’s my wife. I know how to handle her.” He grabbed another Long Neck then stopped in the middle of popping the top. “How in the hell could that be Jen?”
“She’s lost a few pounds and all her clothes are black.”
“How do you lose weight at pastry school?”
“Ask her.”
“She like the house?”
Stefan snorted and slammed the water bottle into the garbage can then grabbed another one. “She doesn’t hate it,” he said bitterly.
“What the hell does that mean? Did you show her the ovens? She should have burst into tears over that kitchen.”
“Not so much.” Stefan finished the second water and grabbed his gravity boots and strapped them on. He needed blood in his brain. “Nothing ever goes as planned with Jen.”
Stefan reached up for the pull-up bar, then folded in half to swing the boots up until they attached. Then he dropped, letting his back stretch out before he started upside-down abdominal crunches.
“You’re not human, you know that?” Rogan told him. “How can you do that without throwing up?”
Stefan didn’t say anything, just concentrated on the up and down. The sit-ups weren’t the same as running either, but hanging upside down usually cleared his head.
But not tonight. Nothing was working tonight.
“She really didn’t like the house?” Rogan demanded.
Stefan paused mid-crunch. “She looked like she was about to be sick and she tried to run away.”
“What did you do?”
“I didn’t do anything,” Stefan exploded. “You know, I had a plan. I had a really great plan. And before I can get it off the ground, she leaves for six months.”
Rogan just shook his head. “Man, told you a long time ago you can’t plan this.”
Stefan’s eyes narrowed. He planned everything. He didn’t like wild cards and chance. He needed to know what was happening and ninety-nine percent of the time he was in complete control of his world. In fact, the only part of his world he couldn’t seem to nail down was Jen. “Well, it’s blown to hell now anyway. I guess I’ll do like you and wing it.”
“Worked with Angie.”
Stefan started crunching again. “You’re separated, remember?”
“No, she thinks we’re separated. I’m just letting her have some time. Trust me, she’ll be back. We had dinner about a week ago and she’s miserable. She just won’t admit it.”
“You had dinner? Like a date?
“Yeah. So what?”
“You’re separated but you’re still going out?”
“Yeah. A lot. We’ve been out more in the last few months than since we had Zack, which is the whole problem anyway. I don’t pay enough attention to her. Got too busy at work and didn’t realize it. It won’t happen again. Same thing with Jen. You just need to be straight with her, you kept her in the background for years and now...”
“She was just a kid,” Stefan snapped. “What was I supposed to do? She’s still too young.”
“She’s always going to be too young for you. Get over that.”
“Did you want to get married at twenty-two? I sure as hell didn’t. She should be out having fun, doing girl shit. Shopping, buying more of those shoes. A lot more of those shoes...”
“No one says you have to get married next week. Wait a couple of years before you actually marry her.”
“Uh, no. Waited six years. Not waiting any longer.”
Rogan’s head snapped back. “Dude, you don’t have to marry her for that.”
“Oh, fuck yes, I do,” Stefan roared back at him, as his feet hit the floor. “You think I’d do that to Robert? You really think so? Plus, Mac, with his mind control and bullshit radar... You really think I’m going there before she’s legally mine? Would you?”
Rogan’s expression went dark again. “No, man, I guess not, but...”
“You guess not?” Stefan cut him off. “Seriously? You guess not?”
“She’s not a kid anymore.”
“Is that right?” Stefan asked, pulling the boots off and resisting the urge to slam them against the wall. “Tell you what? I’m just gonna go back inside and do her right now. How’s that sound to you?”
Rogan stood up, his expression like pitch and his green eyes even blacker. “Point taken,” he grumbled.
“Don’t like that idea, do you?” Stefan smirked when his best friend shook his head slowly. “I promised him,” Stefan said in a low voice, watching Rogan flinch. “Can’t break that promise.”
“You’re not breaking it,” Rogan assured him. “You’ve waited until she’s twenty-two. You’ve quadrupled her trust fund. And you’re running a company to protect her interest in it. I think you’re slick with Robert, man. What else could he expect?”
“Yeah, whatever. Enough of this shit. I appreciate it, man. I do. But now I gotta go back into that house where I know she’s asleep in my bed and try to force myself to stay out of that room. It was easy to do that before when she was all quiet and sweet. Now she comes back from Paris all sleek, in those shoes and skin tight clothes and fuck me...”
Rogan paused at the door that led upstairs to his apartment. “I don’t envy you. But I know you. She’s safe as houses.”
Stefan shook his head. Safe? Not even close.
The next morning, Jen found Stefan in the kitchen blending one of his notorious protein shakes. The blender masked her movements as she sat down at the island and just enjoyed the view for a moment. He was wearing jeans that were so faded they were white in places and one of the knees was missing. The tan T-shirt had once been brown with a sailboat on the back. He’d cut the sleeves out now and it clung to the muscles of his back.
He barely reacted when he turned around and faced her. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Maybe she had imagined that kiss after all. It wouldn’t be the first time. She’d dreamed he’d kissed her after her prom and there was no way that was real. He’d looked at her like she smelled funny when he’d seen her coming down the stairs to meet her date. And last night she’d been really tired. Maybe the jet lag had her mind playing tricks on her again.
“Protein shake?” he offered.
She relaxed just a bit, unsure if she should be terrified or relieved that her mind was still playing tricks. There was no way this human iceberg in front of her had kissed her like that last night. And even if he had, she was following his lead and acting like nothing was wrong. “Do you have any real food?”
“Yogurt, fruit. That’s real food.”
“Eggs?” she asked.
“Hard-boiled,” he said, because anytime he bought a dozen eggs he boiled them and put them in the fridge. Sometimes she wasn’t sure he was human.
“Can I borrow your car?” she asked.
He went very still. “Excuse me?”
“Can I borrow your SUV?” she corrected. “I just want to run up to the grocery store and get a few things.” She’d promised Lizzie pancakes. Stefan wouldn’t eat them of course, but Rogan and Lizzie would.
“You don’t drive.”
Jen stiffened. “Yes, I do.”
“Since when?”
“Since Jared taught me how last year.”
“The hippie taught you how to drive?” She watched as his blue eyes frosted over.
“He’s not a hippie, and now that I’m back, I should probably get a car.”
“You want a car?”
“Yeah, I want a car.” She definitely wanted a car now with him acting like this. “You got a problem with that, Stefan? Lizzie has a car. You have two cars and a motorcycle and three bicycles that cost more than the other three combined. Why can’t I have a car?”