A Forbidden Love (Eligible Billionaires Book 9) (8 page)

“Great. I’m very interested in looking into some local acquisitions for TF and—”

Ilana’s phone buzzed and she slipped it from her purse. She mouthed “sorry” and turned and walked away from Amanda and Devon as their conversation turned to real estate.

Ilana found a quiet corner and pressed a finger into her opposite ear so that she could hear. “Hello?”

“Ilana? Ilana Rashnikov?”

She closed her eyes. Irritation now edged her fear.

“I told you that you have the wrong—”

“Reynolds, then. Ilana Reynolds?”

Ilana’s heart beat fast. “Who is this?”

“Don’t hang up, please. This is your uncle.”

“I don’t
have
any family,” Ilana whispered into the phone, straining to hear above the din of the gallery. “So why do you keep calling me?”

“I told you in my voicemail. Because we’re family, and I need to speak with you.”

“I don’t
know
you, I don’t know my father, and based on the things he did to my mother”—she kept her voice low—“and all the other people he hurt, I don’t want to.”

“I won’t go away. Your cousins won’t—”

Longing curled through Ilana.

“I have cousins?”

“Your mother never told you? I would’ve thought…but no, I suppose…” A long sigh on the other end of the line. “Yes. Yes, Ilana, you have cousins.”

Her heart lurched in her chest. She’d always felt alone in the world. She’d always wanted a brother or sister or…cousins? As in more than one? Yes, cousins would do.

“They’re all around your age.”

“I…” She glanced around the gallery. Devon, still deep in conversation with Amanda, caught her eye and raised an eyebrow, as if to ask
is everything okay
? And everything was okay…except it wasn’t. Her entire world had flipped over. Again. She supposed if you got flipped around enough, you’d eventually get to standing. “I…”

“They want to meet you, Ilana. I want to meet you. Your aunt wants to meet you.”

Ilana’s heart cracked. She put a hand to her forehead. Family. She missed her mother, and while Devon was becoming important to her, and was quite possibly her future, Family was something else entirely, something she’d thought she’d never have…an extended family. For decades it’d been only she and her mother. Why had Mama kept all of this from her? My God, what had Mama been trying to hide and why?

“I…I have to think about it. I need to process all this.”

“I want you to join us for dinner.”

“All of you?”

“I’ll send a car for you. To the Center, tomorrow at six. We’ll eat at our home, in Malibu.”

Ilana closed her eyes. Malibu? Why hadn’t Mama told her that she had an aunt and uncle who lived so close? Malibu was just a few miles away…what if she’d met her uncle or aunt or
cousins
before and simply not known they were related to her?

“You have the address?”

“Yes, my driver will pick you up. I’m very pleased, Ilana, and your aunt and your cousins will be as well.”

After her uncle hung up, Ilana put the phone back in her purse and walked toward Devon. He reached out and pulled her close to him.

He nuzzled her neck. “Who was that? I’ve never seen you look this serious.”

She wanted to tell him, she did. She trusted Devon, she might even love him, but her mother’s words—
Don’t ever tell anyone about your family
—echoed in Ilana’s mind. The alarms of her childhood sounding like a firehouse call to an emergency.

“Just…a thing for the Center. No big deal.” She glanced down. A slick oily feeling curled around her gut. She’d just lied to Devon. But she couldn’t tell him yet. She’d never met these people. What if she didn’t want to have anything to do with them…what if there was a reason that her mother had kept her away from them? She would tell Devon eventually, just not now. Devon planted a kiss on her forehead.

“Tough being the boss. Work never ends.”

Ilana nodded.

“Did you want to go to Nobu with me tomorrow night? After the Center closes?”

Ilana’s heart thudded. Lie upon lie upon lie. Her lungs filled with a deep breath. “I can’t,” she said, fiddling nervously with the leather tab on the zipper pull of her purse. “I have to…I have dinner plans with some friends already.”

Not a complete lie, really. She did have dinner plans with her aunt and uncle, and she hoped that they would become friends. Maybe they’d someday even feel like family, although she had a hard time believing that anyone would ever feel like family again.

“No problem.” Devon pulled her closer to his side.

She just wasn’t ready to share all the secrets her mother had kept for all these years with anyone, including Devon and Amelia. She needed time to process and understand. Cousins? She had an aunt and uncle and cousins that she’d never met. Tomorrow she’d meet them all. All of them. Tomorrow night, she’d spend with family.

Travati Financial had become a behemoth and Devon and his brothers rarely dealt with real estate agents at this level. People brought TF hundred-million-dollar deals through high-end brokers and holding companies and attorneys, not little real estate offices on the corner. But Devon was doing business differently with this new division. He would handpick the buildings they bought and he would decide which businesses were allowed to rent in those buildings.

“Devon, so good to see you.” Felicia stood from her chair. She reached one hand out to shake his and ran the other over the top of her hair. This woman embodied everything that Devon had thought, before he moved to Venice, was completely L.A. Obviously dyed blonde hair, eyebrows that didn’t move, softball-sized and -shaped breasts that defied gravity, and ageless, unlined skin gleaming with shiny plastic transparency. Her suit, her towering heels, and her entire demeanor screamed sales. Dollar signs flashed in her eyes. She gushed, “I’ve heard so much about you.”

From whom? He doubted they had mutual friends, although he’d been referred to her by Sterling Legend. Her words meant that she’d been Googling him and his family. Researching who he was and trying to figure out how to get him to buy what she was selling. Her mouth had to be watering at the thought of the commissions his purchases would provide. And why not? This was her business.

Devon sat in the chair in front of her desk. “I reviewed the properties you sent. I know my attorney contacted you about two, but there’s a third I’m interested in. The Wave Building over on Hampton off of Rose.”

Felicia nodded, her talon-like fingernails tapping her computer keyboard. “Great building. Completely full. All the tenants paying full market value except one.” She pressed a few more keys. “A new business, but the current building owner won’t be accepting the assignment. The tenant will have four more months of the current assignment rate, as a courtesy really, then if they can’t pay market they’ll be locked out.” Her eyes didn’t leave the screen as she continued tapping on the keyboard. “Was a pet shop. Did adoptions, sold food and supplies. Owner retired to Belize. Now it’s an art center. For kids.”

Devon narrowed his eyes. The very reason he wanted to buy the building was that it housed Ilana’s business. “You mean the Children’s Enrichment Center?”

“You know it? Sweet, right? Local artists banding together to help children and community, yadda, yadda, yadda.” Felicia rolled her eyes toward the ceiling. “Too bad the business owners didn’t spend as much money on an attorney as they did on paints. Assignment isn’t effective without the written consent of the owner.”

“So the rent goes up—”

“After the six-month grace period. The business owner was completely surprised. Found out right before the Center opened. Really threw her, but business is booming at that place, from what I hear. Maybe they’ll make it. The location is so good that if the owner evicts them, they’ll have a dozen people willing to pay market rate for that location.”

“Right.” Why hadn’t Ilana mentioned the Enrichment Center was in danger? Did Amelia know? “I’ll have my attorney send you the offer.”

“Great. Was there another property?”

Devon stood to leave. “Not now, but keep sending them my way.” Why hadn’t Ilana told him? Even when he’d gone through all the options available to her to obtain nonprofit status or get grants or bring in an investor…she’d never once mentioned that the assignment of her lease hadn’t been accepted and the rent was going up nearly a thousand percent in four months. No, she’d kept all that to herself. Kept secrets from him.

An icy, uncomfortable trickle of fear trailed through his blood. Not exactly a lie, but an omission. Omissions led to trouble. Sergey had never lied either, only concealed the truth about all the women he escorted to the clubs Devon owned.

Devon walked out of the building into the Venice sunshine. He couldn’t possibly compare what had happened to him in New York with Sergey to what was going on now with Ilana. They weren’t even close. Sergey had pimped Russian girls; Ilana owned a business dedicated to helping children. Sergey was rotting away in a New York prison and Ilana was teaching voice to five-year-olds. Maybe she’d been embarrassed? Ashamed to tell him that she’d neglected to have an attorney review the lease? There had to be a reason she hadn’t said anything.

Then why did he feel lied to? Deceived, as though Ilana had purposefully kept the truth from him? Because she had, obviously. Devon glanced in the direction of the Center. No, now wasn’t the time to talk to her about this. And tonight she had dinner with friends. Tomorrow. He’d talk to her tomorrow. He strode down the street toward his townhouse and the conference call awaiting him.

*

Sebastian chased Rhapsody across the front lobby. Magenta paint from his paintbrush dropped in giant splats onto the floor. What the heck? Ilana turned toward the art room door. Amelia, her face looking like the storm clouds that had brewed over the Pacific last night, gave chase.

“Sebastian, we do not take our brushes out of the art room and we definitely do no run with them!”

He let out a loud whoop and giggled. He skidded toward the music room when his mother appeared in front of him, arms crossed and brows furrowed.

“Sebastian Xavier Franklin, you do what your art teacher says, or no surf camp for you this afternoon.”

Sebastian’s eyes widened. He stopped and quickly turned toward Amelia.

“Apologize.”

Sebastian’s chin dropped and his little lips pulled down into a sad face. “I’m sorry, Miss Amelia.”

“Apology accepted.” Amelia silently mouthed “thank you” to Mrs. Franklin, who’d returned to her seat in the waiting area. Amelia followed Sebastian and Rhapsody toward the art room. She paused beside Ilana. “Remind me after class I need to tell you something.”

“Sure,” Ilana said. Amelia scooted back into the art room for the last five minutes of her final class of the day.

Saturday marked the end of week one, and enrollment had exploded. Word was out that some of L.A.’s best artists were teaching children’s art classes in Venice, and parents were lining up to have their budding little Picassos and Pavlovas and Shakespeares taught by the best.

“Before we go, I need to add violin to Sebastian’s schedule.” Ilana looked up to find Sebastian’s mother standing on the other side of the front desk. Ilana pulled up the class schedule.

“I’m so sorry, but we’re full.”

“I was worried about that. Any chance a new class will open up soon?”

“I can’t say for sure right now. We’re discussing the schedule and possible additions next week.” She glanced up at Mrs. Franklin. “It’s amazing. We really didn’t expect this kind of demand so quickly.”

“It’s the quality,” Mrs. Franklin said, then leaned forward and continued in a whisper, “plus the price. You could charge triple and still be full.” Ilana swallowed.
Triple?
Hmm, she and Amelia would have to discuss upping class prices before the next session began.

Ten minutes later, Ilana said good-bye to Sebastian and his mother and the rest of the departing students and locked the front door behind them. She headed into the art room, where Amelia stood at the drop sink scrubbing paintbrushes.

“I’m gonna kill that Sebastian,” Amelia said, the smile on her face at odds with her words. She waved her paintbrushes toward the door. “Such a devil. And the girls? They adore him already.”

“Isn’t that always the case? Girls want the boys that are bad for them?”

“Until they don’t. Speaking of good guys, what are you and Devon doing tonight? Amanda wondered if you might want to have dinner. We’re doing a download of last night’s opening.”

Ilana’s cheeks heated. She wasn’t ready to tell Amelia about her family. “I’m not seeing him tonight, actually. Just…I have different dinner plans.”

“Hmm, sounds a little mysterious.”

“Not mysterious…just…Oh! I almost forgot. What did you want to tell me?” Ilana said, thankful to have a plausible way to get Amelia off the topic.

Amelia’s eyes clouded. She set the brushes beside the sink. “I need to go to New York for a month. I have to leave in a week.”

Air burst from Ilana’s lungs and her gut twisted. “Wait…what? Now? Why? How can you go to New York for a month?”

“One of Amanda’s friends has a big gallery in New York and they want to show my work. But they want me to come and do a whole meet the artist sort of thing. Then we’ll go to the Hamptons and—”

“The Hamptons?”

Amelia’s face lit with excitement as she went on. “Right. So I can make an impression on the collectors. Amanda’s going to host a party at her house, and—”

“Wait? So,
you’re
going to the Hamptons for
vacation
while I stay here and run the Center?”

The enthusiasm in Amelia’s expression faded. “The trip isn’t a vacation, it’s work.”

“Right.” Sarcasm oozed from Ilana’s voice. “Work. But is it work for four weeks? Or is some of it fun?”

“That’s beside the point. I have to do this for my career. I have an opportunity, a window right now. I have to do this. Besides this will help both of us, because anything that elevates me, elevates the Center.”