Читать книгу Desire September 2017 Books 1 -4 - Yvonne Lindsay - Страница 23

Fourteen

“I do want to apologize for the mix-up,” Don said as he led Royce down an ornately paneled hallway into an office.

“What mix-up?” Royce asked.

Don let the heavily carved door close then studied Royce for a moment. He had a feeling this wasn’t going to be a very comfortable conversation. And he could think of only one subject that would warrant this type of formality from his host.

“Of having your father here without any warning.”

Bingo.

Don stepped into the room, gesturing Royce toward a chair while he took the one behind the large desk. “Not all of our guests are as courteous as Jasmine about letting us know who they are bringing with them.”

Royce felt the unease that had been simmering since he’d first caught sight of his father rise a little higher. Not for himself, but—“I don’t like the idea of him having access to Jasmine.” Especially without him there to run interference.

Don offered an approving look. “We agree. Marilyn will be watching over her until you return. I assure you, she’s quite capable of handling men of his ilk.” He grinned. “Jasmine can, too, though she’s often polite to a fault.”

He studied Royce for a minute more before he asked, “Does he know about the two of you?”

“What?”

“That your relationship has become personal as well as professional?”

Royce wasn’t sure he wanted to address that issue yet. Something had been bothering him since this conversation started.

“How did you know he was my father?” Royce asked. “That’s not something I advertise.”

“I don’t blame you. He’s not the kind of man I’d want to claim as a relation, either.”

Royce met the other man’s gaze in surprise. It wasn’t often he had conversations with people who would admit to disliking his father as much as he did.

Don explained. “I’m a very thorough man. I know a lot about you, Royce. I’ve kept you on my radar for a while. With your meteoric rise on Savannah’s business scene, it was inevitable we would do business with each other at some point. When your proposal came in, we had you investigated.”

“Why?” But there was something Royce wanted to know more. “Actually, right now, I just want to know if my father has ever tried to do business with you.”

Don nodded slowly. “He has attempted to work with us in the past. And, yes, I did investigate him just as thoroughly. But I didn’t find the connection at that time.”

He smiled at Royce. “I didn’t need to investigate to see your relationship with Jasmine. It’s all in her face, though she tries to hide it.”

Royce could see it, too, every time she looked at him. He was deeply worried his own feelings showed just as clearly, and he wasn’t ready for that.

Don leaned back in his chair, causing it to creak. “As to why we investigate the personal backgrounds of potential business associates, I like to know who we’re working with. Not just what you’re capable of in a business arena, but who you are as a person. Unusual, but that’s just how my wife and I like running our company. It works for us.”

Royce wasn’t sure how he felt about that. He could understand the concern, but the idea that his personal life had been scrutinized wasn’t something he was comfortable acknowledging.

“Of course, we don’t usually share that knowledge with our employees or contractors,” Don said, “but in this instance, I felt it was particularly important.”

“Again, why?”

“Well, I doubt this will make you feel any better about my snooping, but we happen to have taken a special interest in Jasmine Harden.”

Royce wasn’t above digging for his own information. This he wanted to hear. “My event planner?”

Don cocked his head to one side. “Is that all she is?”

“You tell me. You’re the one hunting for info.”

“Touché. You’ve just never been known to date much. She’s never dated any of her clients.”

This was getting more bizarre by the minute, but the fact that Don was concerned about Jasmine oddly reassured Royce. “I guess the real question is—is there a problem with anything you found out?” He might as well know if his history was about to stand in the way of his future.

“You’ve done very well for yourself—and in the best way possible. The only complaint I could find out about your company, or you for that matter, is that it isn’t very child friendly.”

“It’s a business.” Not a day care. But, for once, he kept that part to himself.

“I get that,” Don conceded. “And a better understanding of a healthy work environment and happy employees will come to you with more life experience—but it’s not a concern for us when it comes to doing business with you.”

The proposal.

Don continued, “I’ll be honest. I was skeptical at first. You see, we believe business should have a soul.”

Royce shot his host a questioning look. The phrase sounded vaguely familiar. Royce wondered if it was something he’d read on Don’s company website.

Luckily, Don was willing to enlighten him. “We believe that all of our business efforts should be done with our fellow man in mind wherever possible—helping take care of those who can’t, keeping the environment stable and as unharmed by our work as possible, providing safe working conditions—and by extension, creating better living conditions for those who can’t afford to do that for themselves.”

Okay, this sounded familiar. The Jeffersons’ company was known for its environmental stewardship and humanitarian working policies, in addition to its philanthropic efforts.

“When you first applied,” Don continued, “I didn’t believe this was a philosophy you readily embraced, despite your own efforts to make your shipping company as environmentally friendly as possible. Don’t get me wrong—you’ve accomplished incredible things at a very young age.”

Don grinned at Royce. “I can say that from my very advanced age and not sound Scroogy.

“Then I found out about your work with Jasmine. I know you have a charity event you are planning together. One we are much looking forward to, by the way. Sounds exciting.”

Royce relaxed—a little. “Isn’t anything Jasmine plans exciting?”

“Just about...” Don smiled. “She’s an incredibly talented woman.”

That was an understatement. Royce had learned more about the hidden depths of Jasmine Harden than he’d ever dreamed he would. She was smart, sexy, bold yet gracious, tenacious and amusing. And the first woman he’d ever wanted to stick around for longer than a night.

“My concern might sound a little old-fashioned. But I would never presume to insist that you marry her or stay with her. That’s not anybody’s place,” Don conceded.

Royce acknowledged the sentiment with a nod.

“But she doesn’t have a father present, and Marilyn and I are friends of hers, so I do feel a bit of a responsibility to request that you treat her decently. That’s all any of us can expect.”

“It’s what any woman deserves,” Royce said tightly, thinking of the man in the other room.

Don’s nod was slow, almost contemplative. But Royce sensed it had nothing to do with studying him to get more inside information. Instead, the wisdom in Don’s mature gaze told Royce he had more than an inkling about the hardships and poverty he’d suffered as a child...and why.

“I agree,” Don finally said. “I’m glad to know we’re on the same page.”

* * *

Jasmine realized she was in for it when Marilyn smiled her way and asked, “So, Royce Brazier, huh?”

The older woman nodded sagely when Jasmine didn’t answer right away. Instead she snagged them each a pretty mimosa off a passing waiter’s tray. Jasmine sipped, grateful to have something to occupy her.

Under normal circumstances, she had no problem talking with Marilyn. They could cover a wide range of subjects without running out of steam. This time, she tried to act cool, but the blood rushed to her cheeks, anyway. She’d never discussed Royce like this outside of her family—and at home she was mainly deflecting her sisters’ teasing.

His father standing across the room made her even more uncomfortable. She twisted the emerald ring round and round her finger until Marilyn laid a hand over hers. Jasmine met the older woman’s understanding gaze.

“How did you know?” she asked.

Marilyn’s expression showed delight that she’d guessed correctly. “I have a feeling about people. He isn’t the first male client you’ve brought to our little get-togethers, but he’s the first one you’ve looked at like that. Or who has looked at you the same way.”

Suddenly Jasmine’s mouth felt like a desert. She took a quick sip of the fizzy drink. “Like what?” she asked, almost afraid of the answer. So far, there’d been no one to see her with Royce except her sisters. And they were biased.

“Like he discovered a diamond in the midst of his sandbox. I remember.” She leaned her head a little closer to confide, “Don looked at me that way, too.”

“Really?”

Marilyn raised her glass. “I was his secretary,” she said, then took a drink.

“No,” Jasmine breathed. Somehow, she’d never thought to ask how Marilyn and Don had met. She’d just assumed Marilyn came from an upper-class family that wasn’t from around here.

“Oh, yes, sweetheart. I married way above my class, which ended up being the scandal of the year. No one would mention it now, but they weren’t afraid to criticize then. To Don’s face, no less.”

“I can’t imagine.” Jasmine felt privileged Marilyn was actually bringing up something this personal. “That must have been incredibly difficult.”

“Don wasn’t as powerful then—but he also wasn’t as diplomatic. Or patient.” Her smile was gracious, knowing. “People aren’t quick to learn, you know. And Don doesn’t enjoy repeating himself.”

Jasmine doubted Royce would jeopardize his client relations to defend her like that, though she knew he wouldn’t allow others to be disrespectful. She had no idea where his happy medium would be between the two stances—and had no desire to find out.

As if on cue, Royce’s father appeared beside Marilyn. He wasn’t as tall as his son, but their bearing was the same. Straight spine. Squared shoulders. Royce always looked as if he were bracing himself against whatever the world dared throw at him. His biological father looked like he knew what was coming and was prepared to take the hit. The gray creeping into his sandy hair reinforced the impression.

John Nave greeted them both but his eyes were trained on Jasmine. She shivered. Therein lay a key difference between the two men. Royce might be focused on his business, but his expression was still open. His father’s was cold and closed down tight, not letting even a glimpse of emotion through. It was as if he evaluated her solely on what she was capable of providing him—and didn’t care one bit about her as a person.

She’d never done business with Royce’s father. And she hoped she never did.

One look at Marilyn and she knew her friend was aware of who he was—and possibly the story behind his connection to Royce. But Marilyn’s smile as she turned to him was perfectly polite and diplomatic. “Mr. Nave, I’m surprised to see you here.”

“These little get-togethers are good for business,” he said, not bothering to look in Marilyn’s direction. “Right, sweetheart?”

Shock shot through Jasmine. “Excuse me?”

“I said—”

“I heard what you said.” Jasmine tightened the hand at her side into a fist, hoping it would help steady her...and her voice. “My name is Jasmine.”

As if he didn’t already know that. He nodded slowly, continuing to study her.

Jasmine glanced at her friend, who had let a frown break through her polite mask. Before she could say anything, John spoke again.

“There are also a lot of different kinds of distractions at these parties. Which are you?”

Okay, this was a bit much. She’d dealt with the public since she was a teenager and wasn’t about to be walked all over—no matter who he was. She gifted them both with the sweetest smile she could muster. “I think distraction is good for you every now and again.”

His eyebrow shot up, vaguely reminiscent of Royce when he was being obnoxious. “Not if you want to achieve success.”

“Depends on the type of success you’re aiming for,” she countered.

“Very well put,” Don said, as he and Royce joined them. Jasmine had been so focused on John that she hadn’t noticed their approach. “I couldn’t agree with you more, sweet Jasmine.”

The endearment sounded so much nicer like that.

Don gave her a direct smile and an encouraging look. “I’ve always maintained that your intelligence is way above average—just like my dear Marilyn’s.”

Don stepped through the middle of their little gathering to gift his wife with a kiss. Jasmine was relieved to have a break from John’s stare, though her tension was still through the roof.

“Darling, the caterer was looking for you,” Don said. “Shall we?”

Marilyn nodded, smiling her goodbyes as Don settled her hand in the crook of his arm and led her away. Jasmine couldn’t help but notice Marilyn didn’t glance toward John. She was probably afraid she’d stick her tongue out at him.

Jasmine wanted to flip him the bird.

After the Jeffersons left them, Jasmine noticed that John had turned his stare toward his son. “I’m disappointed in you, Royce.”

Heaven forbid we should make polite, pleasant conversation...

Royce wasn’t daunted, though. He cocked his head to the side, looking down at the older man. “I’m not sure why you’re bothering to think of me at all.”

“As my only progeny, you’d be surprised how often you come to mind. Though I’m disappointed after our last meeting.”

“Why?”

John shifted his gaze to Jasmine for only a moment. She could feel her thunderous emotions start to play out in her expression.

“I see you didn’t take my advice.”

“This is beginning to feel a little surreal,” Royce said with a quick look around. “This conversation makes no sense whatsoever. Since when have I ever listened to anything you’ve said to me, on the rare occasions when you’ve said anything? Why would I start now?”

John shrugged, not seeming the least offended. “I’ve always hoped my genes would prevail.”

“I believe the better genes did. My mother’s.”

Hear, hear.

“You can go so much farther, even farther than me, if you remain unattached. I mean, she’s pretty,” John said with a lazy gesture in Jasmine’s direction. “And I’m not saying they aren’t fun to play with...”

“Wow.” Jasmine was amazed at the scene playing out in front of her...with her as the object of attention. Or, rather, derision. And she was done being a passive bystander. “Royce, let me say I agree with you. The better genes do prevail in you.”

His father turned his hard gaze her way once more, but she wasn’t backing down.

“It’s a good thing your opinion doesn’t count. At least, not for long.”

Royce stepped forward, crowding into John’s space. “Actually, her opinion counts for a whole lot more than yours—and it always will.”