Considering the fact the man had at one time been on the presidential detail of the Secret Service, Simon took that comment with the credence it deserved. “What you have is an unfulfilled wish to go undercover and it comes out in the different roles you like to assume here.”
Jacob's gray head cocked to one side. “Could be. Or could be I'm just a crabby old geezer who's lucky to have an eccentric millionaire for a boss.”
Simon didn't have a chance to answer as the first few bars of Beethoven's Fifth played over the house-wide sound system. He did not like doorbells.
“I'll get it. I think Amanda could do without another dose of your company manners.” And he wanted to be alone when he greeted her. He didn't want any distractions when he discovered if his reaction to her in Eric's office had been an anomaly.
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Amanda's hand clenched and unclenched on the handle of her briefcase while she waited for the door to open.
Okay, the guy was a genius and so sexy he made her heart imitate a Morse code operator, but that did not mean he would succeed in scotching the deal. If he was so smart then he would definitely see the benefits of merging with Extant.
She had a briefcase full of reports and graphs that he'd have to be a fool to ignore.
So, stop worrying, already
.
He was just a man with some preconceived notions she needed to help him reprogram.
The door swung open.
Simon Brant stood with his strong, masculine hand curved around the edge of the door. “Amanda. Welcome to my home.”
How did he do that? Five words, none of them remotely sexual, and her insides were turning into warm honey.
Just a man.
Uh huh.
Right.
Her professional, let's-talk-the-deal smile fought with her rebellious lips' urge to pucker up and beg for the gorgeous man's kisses. Oh, man, she was losing it.
“Mr. Brant.”
Firm lips curved in a smile, revealing perfectly even, white teeth. “I thought it was Simon.”
“Simon,” she conceded. “Thank you for inviting me.”
He inclined his head and stepped back, indicating she should come inside.
She stepped over the threshold of the door and for one disconcerting second felt as if she'd made an irrevocable decision that would change the rest of her life. Shaking the feeling off as highly fanciful, she extended her hand toward him. “I look forward to showing you the many benefits of the proposed merger between Brant Computers and Extant Corporation.”
Simon took her hand, but he didn't shake it. He squeezed her fingers and bent forward. For one incredulous moment, she thought he was going to kiss her hand, but he didn't. He simply dropped his head forward in a cross between an Oriental bow and an Old World gesture.
He straightened and dropped her hand. “Jacob's prepared lunch. It's waiting for us in the great room.”
Was that a veiled hint about her slight tardiness?
He turned and led the way down a hallway, his feet making no sound on the hardwood floor while her shoes tapped out a firm tattoo with each step.
The hall took a sharp right and she stopped in awe at the entrance to the room. It gave the term
great room
new meaning. It was huge, at least twenty by forty feet, but it wasn't the size that had her so captivated. The entire forty-foot wall opposite the entrance was glass with a view of the Sound and Mt. Rainier off in the distance.
Simon stopped and turned to her. “Like it?”
“It's fantastic.” No wonder the guy preferred to work out of his home, with a home like this.
“Other than the necessary structural bracing, this entire side of the house is made up of reinforced glass and windows.”
“How many floors are there?”
“Three. The pool and gym are on the floor below us. Jacob's living quarters, the kitchen, guest room, and this room are on this level, and my living quarters and lab are upstairs.”
Her gaze slid around the room they were in. Its simplistic design and furnishings had Oriental overtones, but nothing glossy and lacquered. It was all fruitwood, simple lines and natural hues for the upholstery. “This really is magnificent. You must enjoy living here quite a bit.”
The house was much bigger than the home she had shared with Lance and in many ways more grand, yet it still felt like a home. It reflected its owner's complex, but deceptively simple-appearing approach to life.
“Thank you.” He took her arm and led her to the dining table in front of one of the massive twin stone fireplaces at either end of the room. “Let's have lunch and you can tell me a little about yourself.”
She allowed him to seat her, feeling strange about a business associate observing the courtesy. In LA, she was used to being treated the same way as her male counterparts in the corporate world.
Flicking her cloth napkin open and then laying it across her lap, she said, “I'm not all that interesting, but I don't think you'll find the same true of Extant's proposal.”
His smile flashed along with a determined glint in his gray eyes that gave her pause. “I prefer to know a person before I discuss business with them. It probably comes from working for a family held company.”
“I see.”
“Good.”
She looked down at the pasta in pesto sauce attractively presented in a flat china bowl. “This looks wonderful.”
“Jacob's rather proud of his culinary talents.”
“He's a unique individual.” She meant to be diplomatic.
He laughed, the sound affecting her already off-balance equilibrium. “That's one way to describe him. Cantankerous is another.”
She didn't bother asking why Simon kept such a rude man working for him as she took her first bite of the delicious pasta. She thought it was probably just as hard for a recluse genius to find household help as for a cranky old man who cooked like an angel to find a job.
“So, tell me about yourself, Amanda.” It was a line tossed out as easily as a common greeting, and yet his intent stare and deep, controlled voice made her feel like he was asking for more than a rundown on the highlights of her résumé.
She fought against giving in to the compulsion to share on a personal level with him. “I've been working for Extant Corporation since graduating from college with a degree in business. This is my second year in the corporate planning division.”
“Are you married?”
Her fork paused midway to her mouth. “I don't see how that relates to the merger.”
One black brow rose. “I thought I explained I like to know the people I do business with.”
“I believed you meant my business background.”
He poured wine into her glass and then his own. “Did you?”
No she hadn't. Not really, but it was so ludicrous to think he wanted to know about her. She wasn't the type of woman to inspire personal interest from a man like Simon, from any man for that matter. Or so her ex-husband had taken pains to point out. “I assure you the most interesting aspects of my life relate to my career.”
“I'm
interested in
your marital status.”
“Why?”
He shrugged. “It seems relevant to who you are. I'm single and I've never been married. I rarely date and I spend long hours in my lab ignoring the rest of the world.”
“Oh . . .” What was she supposed to say to that? She couldn't begin to understand why he was telling her this stuff. He must be very serious about wanting to personally know the people he did business with. She supposed that made sense considering most of his current business associates were family or employees for his family's company.
“I'm not married.” She didn't add that she was divorced. “I don't have time to date.” Something flickered in his eyes at that. She supposed he was noticing, as she was, that they had quite a bit in common. “And I'm focused almost exclusively on my work.” In fact, her only friend outside work was Jillian.
Which reminded her. “Do you have a television?” She couldn't believe she was asking him this. It was totally unprofessional, but then the man insisted on having a business meeting in his home and grilling her about her marital status. He couldn't be
that
concerned about professional behavior.
His black brows rose. “No.”
She couldn't quite stifle a sound of regret. Jillian was going to be so disappointed.
“I believe Jacob has one, however.”
“Jacob?” Asking Simon to allow a thirty-minute break in their meeting so she could keep her promise to Jillian was not nearly as intimidating a prospect as asking Jacob for the loan of his television.
“Yes. He likes British comedies.”
That would mean he had cable. He'd definitely get Jillian's soap opera. “My best friend is a regular in a daytime drama. She wants me to watch her show today. She's really proud of her scenes.”
It had been worth asking, to see the bemusement on Simon's features. He'd been knocking her off-balance since they met and she found herself relishing this small opportunity to get her own back again.
“You want to watch a soap opera?”
“Yes. My friend said it was only the first thirty minutes I needed to see. I hate to ask for a break like that and realize it isn't quite professional, but I promised.” Waiting for Simon's answer, she realized she would never have made the same request of his cousin, Eric Brant.
“What time is the show on?”
“At one o'clock.”
Simon twisted his wrist so he could see the face of his ultra-sleek hi-tech watch. “That's in less than an hour.”
“I suppose you want to conclude the meeting as soon as possible so you can get back to your project.” She'd just have to have Jillian Fed-Ex the tape of the program.
Simon shook his head. “It's important to keep promises to friends. I don't mind taking a little break. I've never seen a soap opera, excuse me, daytime drama before.”
That didn't surprise her, his intended desire to watch Jillian's show with her did. “You don't have to watch it with me,” she assured him.
“I wouldn't miss it.”
“Thank you.” It seemed to be the thing to say. “Would you like me to start going over some of the figures for the merger?”
“I prefer not to discuss business while I'm eating. Tell me more about you. Your best friend is an actress?”
“Actor.” She smiled. “Actress is considered a sexist term and she'd tear a strip off you if she heard you using it.”
“It's fortunate she isn't here to have heard my
faux pas
then, isn't it?” Silver flecks of humor twinkled in his gunmetal gray eyes.
“She's a little militant,” Amanda admitted.
“What about your family?”
“What about them?”
“I presume they aren't all actors.”
Actually they all had a fair amount of acting ability. “My parents own a real estate agency in Carlsbad. My brother is a lawyer.” And the most accomplished actor of them all.
“No sisters?”
“No. What about you?”
“No.”
“No sisters?”
“No brothers either.”
She knew his father had died in a plane crash with Eric's father several years ago. “What about your mom?”
Simon's face went blank. “She died of ovarian cancer when I was ten.”
She sensed the loss still affected him deeply and that touched her. If her mother died, would her father and brother even bother telling her about it? Yes, for appearance's sake, probably. Not because anyone in her family felt that connected to her. She was the cuckoo, unwanted and unloved by her parents, dismissed by her brother.
“I'm sorry,” she said to Simon and meant it.
“Thank you.”
“Eric told me you got your Ph.D. when you were nineteen. That's very impressive.”
He shrugged. “Intelligence is something you are born with. My mother and father encouraged me not to squander mine.”
“But to have accomplished so much by such a young age.”
Instead of answering, he reached toward her and she watched in mesmerized fascination as his darkly masculine hand came closer and closer to her chest. She couldn't seem to open her mouth to protest, nor could she move.
He stopped, his fingers a centimeter from her body. “You've got a noodle here.” Then he pulled the offending piece of pasta off the lapel of her jacket without so much as brushing her chest with the backs of his fingers.