Читать книгу Reunited with the Lassiter Bride - Barbara Dunlop - Страница 9
ОглавлениеEvan stood in the high-ceilinged foyer of the Lassiter mansion, gazing in amazement as a transformed Angie descended the grand staircase. She looked beautiful, feminine and deceptively sweet. Her chestnut hair was half up, half down, wisps dangling at her temples and curling enticingly along her shoulders in a silk curtain. The color was lighter than he remembered it, and he instantly realized he liked it this way.
“You’re wearing pink,” he couldn’t stop himself from observing.
“Now who’s stating the obvious?” As she covered the last couple of stairs, Evan noticed her simple, white pumps that matched a tiny purse tucked under her arm.
“I’ve never seen you in pink.” The dress was snug in the bodice, with cap sleeves and flat lace across the chest. It had a full silk skirt and a discreet ruffle along the hem. She wore simple diamond stud earrings and a tiny diamond pendant on a delicate gold chain. She truly could have stepped out of the 1950s.
“I hate pink,” she noted as she came to a halt on the ground floor. Then she donned a brilliant if slightly strained smiled and pirouetted in front of him. “But do you think this outfit will get Kayla the dream Malibu wedding her mother wants for her?”
Evan wasn’t sure the outfit would get them a wedding. But it was definitely getting him turned on. He’d seen Angie in no-nonsense suits, opulent evening gowns and the occasional classic black cocktail dress. But he’d never seen her looking so alluring and demure, and so incredibly kissable.
“If it doesn’t,” Evan found himself responding, “nothing will.”
“Good.” Her expression relaxed, and her smile looked more natural. “Then let’s get this over with, shall we?”
He held out his arm to escort her, but she didn’t take it. She walked pointedly past him, drawing open the front door and marching onto the porch.
“He needs to believe we’re still friends,” Evan cautioned as he trotted down the staircase after her.
His dark blue Miata convertible was parked halfway around the circular driveway. He’d picked Angie up in this spot countless times, taking her to dinners, to parties, occasionally away for the weekend. And for a few heartbeats, it felt exactly like old times. He had to stop himself from taking her hand or putting an arm around her shoulders. Touching her seemed like such a natural thing to do.
“I can act,” she responded breezily.
He slipped past her to open the passenger door. “I’m sure you can.”
She slid into the low seat, pulling her dainty shoes in behind her. “Conrad knows we’re coming?”
“He knows. I imagine we’ll get an earful about some of the stories in the tabloids.”
“I can cope with upset people.”
“Can you keep your cool when they come after your family?”
“Of course, I can.”
“Angie?” Evan cautioned.
She stared straight ahead. “Don’t call me that.”
“You want me to call you Ms. Lassiter?”
“My name is Angelica.”
He waited for a moment, until curiosity got the better of her and she raised her eyes to look his way.
“Not to me it isn’t,” he told her firmly. Then he pushed the door shut and rounded the hood of the car.
He knew he shouldn’t goad her, and he probably shouldn’t use her nickname either. But they’d been lovers once, best friends, engaged. They’d been mere hours away from getting married. They’d laughed. They’d fought. And she’d cried naked in his arms. He wasn’t about to pretend it had all never happened.
They both stayed silent as he pulled onto Sunset, pointing the sports car toward the Pacific Coast Highway.
“You can do it for one night,” she told him as he navigated traffic beneath the bright streetlights.
“Do what for one night?” He wondered if she was aware of the many interesting ways that statement could be taken.
She’d probably slap his face if she knew what he was picturing right now.
His mouth flexed in a half smile at his own thoughts. If this really were the 1950s, she would slap his face, but he’d kiss her anyway, pinning her hard against the nearest wall. Then she’d quickly capitulate and kiss him back, because she was only protesting out of a duty to be a good girl, not because she was unwilling.
“Call me Angie,” she answered, startling him out of the daydream.
“I can call you Angie for one night?”
“While we’re at Conrad Norville’s pretending to be friends. But that’s it.”
“I don’t think you can control what I call you,” he countered casually.
She fussed with the hem of her skirt, and there was something defiant in her tone. “I can control what I call you.”
“Call me anything you like.”
“What about incompetent and irresponsible?”
“Excuse me?” He swung a glance her way for a second before returning his attention to the winding highway. “You’re planning to insult me in front of Norville?”
“Not Norville. I had a phone call this morning. Somebody looking for a reference on your work with Lassiter Media.”
“Who?” Evan immediately asked.
“Lyle Dunstand from Eden International.”
Anger clenched his stomach, and his tone went iron-hard. “You’d actually undermine my business out of spite?”
She was silent for a moment. “Relax, Evan. I told them you’d done a fantastic job under trying circumstances. I gave you complete credit for last year’s expansion into Britain and Australia, and I said your instincts for people were second to none.”
His anger dissipated as quickly as it had formed.
“My point is,” she continued. “I’m treating you with respect and professionalism. You could at least do the same for me.”
“I didn’t give anyone your contact information,” he assured her. “I was hoping they’d avoid checking with Lassiter.”
“I can’t see that happening. You were with us for several years.” She angled her body to face him. “So, you’re opening up the consulting agency again.”
“I have to earn a living.”
“My father left you a lot of money.”
Evan coughed out a cold laugh. “Like I’m going to touch Lassiter money.”
She seemed to consider his words. “Are you angry with him?”
“Hell, yes, I’m angry with him. He used me. He messed with my life like I was some pawn in his private game.”
“He assumed we’d be married by the time he died.”
Evan twisted his head to look at her again. “And that makes it better? He sets me up as CEO in order to test your loyalty to him, and then he cuts me loose to do what? Play second fiddle to my own wife at Lassiter?”
She seemed to consider his statement. “Are you saying you’d have a problem working for me? If we were married, I mean?”
“Yes.”
“But you’d have been okay with me working for you?”
He gave a shrug. “It might not be logical or fair. But, yeah, I could live with that.”
“Now who’s living in the 1950s?”
He didn’t disagree. “It’s a moot point. Neither of those things is ever going to happen.”
“Because we’ll never be married.”
“Stating the obvious again, Angie.”
“Angelica.”
“You said I could have one night.” He wheeled the car into a left turn, and down the private road that led to Conrad Norville’s estate.
* * *
They met Conrad in the great room of his oceanfront residence. Even though Angelica had spent years living in the Lassiter mansion, she was taken aback by the size and opulence of the home. The great room was accessed through a massive foyer and a marble pillared hallway decorated in ivory and gold. The room was huge, rectangular, with a thirty-foot ceiling. Its beachside wall was completely made of glass. In the center of the glass wall, several panels were drawn aside, turning the patio into an extension of the house.
The patio itself was beautifully set up for entertaining, with different tiers that held tables, comfortable lounge furniture groupings, and gas fire pits surrounded by padded chairs. The lowest tier jutted out over a cliff, offering a spectacular view of the rocks and waves, while a side area held a swimming pool, complete with a pool house and a massive wet bar.
As Conrad shook her hand in welcome, he gave Angelica’s outfit a critical once over. He didn’t make any comment, and she couldn’t tell what he thought.
“Your family’s been in the news lately,” he stated, giving a signal to a waiting butler who immediately moved forward with a silver tray of drinks.
“Things have stabilized now,” said Angelica, standing next to the open doorways, appreciating the fresh ocean breeze. “I think we’re all ready to move forward on a positive path.”
“You never want to become the story.” Conrad took a crystal glass from the waiter’s tray. It contained a small quantity of amber liquid.
“Being in the media wasn’t something any of us enjoyed,” Angelica agreed.
The butler offered her a drink, and she took it, guessing it was probably single malt, since Conrad owned a distillery in Scotland and often sang its praises. She hated single malt, but she’d drink it if she had to.
“Is your daddy a crazy man?” Conrad asked, studying her expression while he waited for her answer.
Though they’d tried to guard the details of J.D.’s will, with Conrad’s industry and social contacts, he’d likely have learned more than most people outside the family.
Before she could answer, Evan stepped in. “J. D. Lassiter loved his family very much. It’s one of the things I admired most about him.”
“My stepkids are leeches,” said Conrad, switching his piercing attention to Evan. “No good, blood-sucking losers.”
Angelica glanced at Evan, but he didn’t seem to know how to respond to that either.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” she offered into the awkward silence. “Do they live here in Malibu?”
Conrad gave a gruff laugh. “Can’t afford their own houses. At least not the kind of houses they think they deserve.” He upended his glass, swallowing the entire shot.
Angelica took an experimental sip. It was single malt all right—bold, peaty scotch that nearly peeled the skin from her mouth.
Evan finished his in one swallow.
“They’re both in Monaco right now,” said Conrad, signaling the butler to bring another round. “Some fancy car race through the city. Nothing but girls and all-night parties, I’m guessing.”
“Kayla Prince runs an art gallery,” Evan offered. As he spoke, he shifted a little closer to Angelica.
She assumed he was trying to perpetuate the ruse that they were still good friends.
“One of those snooty, high-brow places?” Conrad asked. “Always trying to get me to spend millions on some nouveau crap. Can’t even tell what’s in those pictures. A monkey might have done it for all I can tell.”
“I once bought a water color painted by an elephant,” said Angelica.
Her instinct was to defend Kayla, but she didn’t want to risk an argument with Conrad. She decided it was better to distract him with a new thread of conversation.
Evan gave her a puzzled look, but Conrad jumped right in on the topic.
“Could you tell what it was?”
“Blue and pink lines. The elephant’s name was Sunny. Cost me five hundred dollars.”
That got a grin from Conrad. “The elephant’s probably more talented than that artist, and he charges millions. One of the kids bid at an art auction last month, and I nearly had to mortgage my house.”
She found herself glancing around while she tried to imagine how much you’d have to bid at an auction to warrant a mortgage on this particular house.
The butler returned, and while Conrad was distracted, Evan smoothly switched glasses with Angelica, discreetly downing her drink. She couldn’t help finding the action chivalrous. She attempted to refuse a second drink, but Conrad insisted, so she accepted, declaring the scotch delicious.
“You probably want to see the patio,” Conrad said to Angelica, sounding like he didn’t particularly want to show it to her.
“I would love to see the patio.”
He gestured. “Well, come on outside. Evan here says you’re going to convince me the scandal is over, and it’s safe to be associated with the Lassiters.”
“The scandal is over,” she assured him as they stepped outside.
Soft, recessed lights came on in the perimeter gardens, whether triggered by motion sensor or an alert staff member, Angelica couldn’t tell.
“And you’re at the helm now?” Conrad asked her.
“I am.”
Conrad looked to Evan.
“She’s at the helm,” Evan agreed. “And she’ll do a fantastic job.”
Though she knew he was only playing a part, Evan’s words warmed her.
Conrad got a cagey expression on his face. “Angelica, while I’m deciding whether or not to lend you my mansion, what would you say if I told you Norville Productions had a series we think would be perfect for Lassiter Broadcast System?”
“I’d tell you at LBS we have always created our own programming.”
“And if I reminded you that I have something you seem to want?”
She paused. “I couldn’t offer you quid pro quo, but I can tell you I’ll get your idea in front of an acquiring executive, and we’ll take a look at it.”
“But no promises?”
“We’ll give it full and fair consideration.” She was sincere in that. Just because they’d never commissioned a third-party program for LBS didn’t mean they never would.
“And your brothers?” Conrad took a healthy swallow of his new drink. “Are they aware that the scandal is over?”
“They are. They’re each involved in the corporation in different ways.”
“But not on the media side?”
“Not on a day-to-day basis,” said Angelica. “But the family it united.” It was a bit of a stretch. There were certainly some fences left to mend, but Angelica was confident her brothers wouldn’t say anything publicly that would disparage her father or the family.
“And Jack Reed?” Conrad asked, giving yet another nod to the butler.
Angelica hadn’t even touched her second drink. Luckily, while Conrad momentarily turned away, Evan once again deftly switched glasses with her, drinking it himself.
“Jack is completely out of the picture,” she said. “There was some confusion about his role at first, but he was also acting on my father’s wishes.”
Conrad arched a bushy brow. “Your father wanted his company to be taken over and split apart?”
The butler returned, and they all exchanged their empty glasses for fresh drinks.
“My father,” Angelica admitted with frank honesty, “set it up to test how I would react if that became a possibility.”
Conrad cracked a grin. “A wily old coot, was he?”
“I would say so.”
Evan joined in. “Everyone passed the test with flying colors. The family pulled together, and Lassiter Media is going to thrive.”
“They didn’t pull together right away,” Conrad noted.
Evan gave a shrug and took a hearty swallow of what was now his fifth glass of scotch. “Nobody does the right thing right away.”
Conrad gave a wheezing laugh at that.
“First we look at the angles,” Evan continued. “Then we decide what we want. Then we decide what’s best. But the last decision is the only one that counts.”
Angelica forced herself to take a sip of her drink. She wished the glass contained a liquor she enjoyed. She needed something to counteract her burgeoning appreciation of Evan. He sounded quite sincere in his defense of her behavior.
“And what about you two?” Conrad asked, glancing from one to the other.
“We’re friends now,” Evan offered simply.
“No, you’re not,” Conrad countered with conviction, his bushy brows coming together, creasing his forehead.
Angelica stilled, worried they were caught.
“In a relationship like yours,” he continued, “you either love each other or you hate each other. There’s nothing in between.”
“You can’t believe what you read in the tabloids,” said Evan.
“It’s not what I read. It’s what I see. Picture after picture tells me you two had it bad.” His wrinkled hand gestured back and forth between the two of them. “I’m no fool. You’re makin’ nice now, but it’ll go off the rails in the blink of an eye. The story will hit the tabloids, and this wedding and my mansion will be smack dab in the middle of a scandal.”
“You’re right,” said Evan, and Angelica shot him a look of amazement. But then his hand closed around hers with a reassuring squeeze. “Truth is, we’ve been thinking about getting back together.”
He raised her hand to his lips and gently kissed her knuckles. A familiar buzz of awareness traveled along her arm to her heart, and she had to struggle to mask her reaction.
“You have not,” said Conrad. “Nobody keeps a secret like that in this town.”
“We do,” said Evan, sounding completely convincing. “Look at her, Conrad. I’d have to be a blind fool to give her up.”
Conrad’s gaze took in every facet of Angelica’s appearance. She told herself to hold still and try to look like some kind of 1950s dream girl, the kind you forgave, took back and married, even when she messed up your life.
Conrad finished his drink, and Evan followed suit.
“You’ve got me there,” said Conrad.
“I think you’ve had enough to drink, sweetheart.” Evan lifted the glass from her hand and drank it himself.
Angelica focused on looking calm, serene and in love.
“I’ll be damned,” said Conrad, his expression relaxing for the first time since they’d arrived.
“I’m no fool,” said Evan.
“I guess you’re not. So, you’re telling me I don’t need to worry about wading into a scandal?”
“I’m assuring you this won’t blow up in your face.”
“What was that date again?”
“Last weekend of the month.”
“This month?”
“I realize it’s short notice. I told you about the fire at the Emerald?”
“We’d need extra staff and security,” said Conrad.
“We’ll take care of all the details,” Evan assured him.
Angelica held her breath.
Conrad nodded his head. “I’ll leave the details to you.”
“Thank you so much,” Angelica reflexively gushed, reaching out to shake Conrad’s hand with both of hers. “Kayla will be so excited.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Conrad gruffly brushed away the thanks and seemed to mentally withdraw.
“We’ve imposed on you long enough,” said Evan polishing off the last drink. “Thank you for this, sir. Is there a staff member we can contact?”
“Albert will bring you a business card.”
The butler, who had remained nearby, came forward to give the card to Evan.
“Goodnight, Conrad.” Evan tucked the card into his suit pocket and shook Conrad’s hand.
Conrad gave Angelica a parting smile. “I guess I’ll be seeing you again soon.”
“You will,” Angelica agreed. “I’ll look forward to it.”
Evan put his hand at the small of her back and guided her back through the great room toward the hallway. As soon as the front door was closed behind them, he leaned down to whisper. “You were amazing.”
“Are you okay?”
“How do you mean?”
“You drank six single malts.”
“Oh, that. Getting him a little drunk seemed like a good strategy, and I couldn’t very well throw you to the wolves.” Evan blew out a breath as they approached the car. “But I am a little woozy. I think you’d better drive.”
“No kidding.”
He walked her to the driver’s side door, extracting the keys. “Do you know how to drive a stick?”
“I can manage.”
“She’s peppy,” he warned.
Angelica’s back was to the car door, and she couldn’t help smiling at the warning. “I’ll be fine.”
Then he went silent, and she suddenly realized just how close to her he was standing. The warmth of his body swirled out to meet her skin. She picked up his familiar scent on the breeze. He smelled good, so good, and she felt herself sway involuntarily toward him. Her hormonal reaction to Evan hadn’t changed one bit.
That was bad.
“I mean it,” he said in a gravelly voice. “You did great in there.”
“So did you,” she told him sincerely.
He inched ever so slightly closer. “We make a good team—you and me.”
“You’re drunk, Evan.”
“Maybe a little.”
“Your judgment is impaired.”
“My judgment is perfect. You’re incredible, Angie. And I wanted you just as badly sober as I do now.”
Before she realized what was happening, his lips were on hers. Magic exploded inside her brain, colors flashing, music playing, the taste of Evan overwhelming her senses. The kiss went on for long minutes before he finally pulled back.
She was breathless, and not nearly as horrified as she ought to have been. She had to get it together here.
“That did not demonstrate good judgment, Evan,” she told him tartly, holding out her hand for the car keys.
He just grinned and dropped the keys into her palm. “Sure it did.”
* * *
The Lassiter Media building’s twenty-seventh floor patio, with its adjacent café, was normally open to all the company executives. But today, it was closed for Angelica’s private meeting with her brothers and cousin. Together, the four controlled the broader Lassiter conglomerate group.
At her request, they’d agreed to coordinate trips to L.A. Chance and Sage were in from Wyoming, where Chance ran the family’s Big Blue ranch and Sage took care of his own business interests. Dylan managed the Lassiter Grill Group.
They were at a dining table beside the fountain as Dylan popped the cork on a bottle of Chateau Montegro, a signature wine of Lassiter Grill. Chance was telling Sage about the adventures of a couple of the ranch cowboys.
Feeling like she needed to clear the air, Angelica broke into the lighthearted story. “Before we go any further, can you please let me apologize?”
They all looked at her, falling silent.
“This isn’t a celebration,” she reminded Dylan.
She forced herself to look at each of them in turn, Chance with his strong face and ranch-weathered complexion, Dylan with his ready smile and compassionate eyes, Sage with his closed expression and tight rein on his feelings.
“Please let me get this out. I am so profoundly and incredibly sorry for putting you all through this.”
Dylan was quick to speak up. “It isn’t your fault.”
“But it is.” She wasn’t going to back away from this.
“You got the short end of the stick,” said Chance. “The will took us all by surprise. I can’t honestly say what I would have done if I’d been shafted like that.”
“You’d have walked away,” Angelica told her cousin with conviction. She glanced at her brothers as well. “All of you. If J.D. had left you out of his will, you’d have accepted it and walked away.”
Sage spoke up. “That’s because we wouldn’t have been surprised. His relationship with us was a lot more strained than his relationship with you.”
“You mean he spoiled me.” She was determined to be completely honest here.
“He loved you,” said Dylan. “He loved you and you expected, you knew, you always knew above everything else that he’d take care of you. And he didn’t. Or it looked like he didn’t.”
“Ultimately, it was his choice,” said Angelica. “It was his money, his companies. He was free to leave them to whomever he pleased.” She swallowed a catch in her throat. “I should have accepted his decision right away.”
Sage reached out and put a hand on her shoulder. “Don’t beat yourself up, little sister.”
The unexpected endearment made her tear up. Sage wasn’t one to demonstrate emotion. “I’m so sorry,” she managed.
“Okay,” said Dylan, raising the bottle of Chateau Montegro. “You’re sorry. It’s done. We accept your apology.”
Both Sage and Chance nodded with conviction.
“We’re family,” said Chance. “It’s up to us to stick together now.”
The obvious love in their expressions made the weight slowly lift from Angelica’s shoulders. Her tears dried, and she managed a weak smile.
Dylan began pouring the wine.
“I don’t know why he even left me the twenty-five percent of Lassiter Media,” Sage said to Angelica. “I’m busy running Spence Enterprises. I’ll sign the shares over to you anytime you want.”
She shook her head. “No, you won’t. I’m through second-guessing our father. You’re a significant shareholder in Lassiter Media, and you’re staying that way. If I had to guess, I’d say he wanted to make sure you felt like part of this family. Besides, I want to be able to come to you for advice.”
Sage grinned. “You don’t need any of my advice on Lassiter Media. Evan’s the one who—” He abruptly stopped himself, looking apologetic.
“You’re allowed to say his name,” said Angelica.
“Have you spoken to him? I mean, since the day you took over?” asked Dylan, handing her a glass of the red wine.
“I have,” she confirmed. “We talked yesterday.”
All three men looked surprised by the news. They waited for her to elaborate.
“We’re standing up for Kayla and Matt,” she explained. “They’re getting married at the end of the month.”
There was a further beat of silence all around. All three men looked decidedly worried.
“It’s fine,” she assured them.
“How can it be fine?” asked Dylan.
She waved away their concern. “We’re friends—” She stopped herself, realizing that lying to her family was ridiculous. “Okay, we’re not friends. We’ve hurt each other in too many ways to ever even contemplate forgiveness. But we can pretend to be friends—we have to pretend to be friends—for Kayla and Matt’s sake.”
“You want us to talk to him?” asked Sage.
Angelica fought a bubble of laughter. “And say what?”
“If he steps out of line,” growled Chance.
“Stop it,” she ordered. “You guys like Evan. You’ve always liked Evan.” She straightened the silverware in front of her, telling herself it was vital to keep the honesty flowing. “There were times when you liked him better than you liked me.”
“Never,” said Dylan.
“It’s fine,” she assured them again. “It’s going to be just fine.” Her voice went softer. “But, thank you. Thank you for caring, and thank you for supporting me.”
Dylan raised his glass, and they all followed suit. “This is long overdue. To J.D.”
“To J.D.,” they echoed.
“To Dad,” Angelica whispered, her heart beginning to heal as she took a first sip.
