Give a Little (7 page)

Very traumatic indeed.

Her mobile rang, startling her. She looked at the screen, almost expecting it to be that Italian devil.

It was a different sort of devil. Pursing her lips, she picked it up. “Fraser. Isn’t this a sweet surprise?”

“I hear you’ve been sniffing around Stallon-E,” her rival said without preamble.

“I don’t sniff, darling,” she said in a blithe, uncaring tone, not surprised that he’d found out. Nothing was sacred in their circles.

“I know what you’re up to, Summerhill, and it won’t work.”

“Of course you know what I’m up to.” She looked outside as her driver pulled over in front of Goddess of the Night, where she was meeting her sisters for Tuesday night drinks. “I’m not hiding the fact that I want to invest in Stallon-E. It’s not a criminal act.”

“How did you find out about my interest in them?” he demanded.

“Likely the same way you found out about my interest.”

“The CEO Jeff Toland mentioned it to me.”

Ah—the man who’d gone over from Ford and the only member of the managing team she had information on so far. She’d tried to contact him, but they hadn’t managed to connect. “Interesting.”

Fraser paused. “Are you denying your interest in the company?”

“Not at all.” She nodded at Nigel as he opened the door for her. Sliding out, she strode toward the entrance. “But I’m not confirming it either.”

“I need this one, Summerhill, and I’m not letting you steal it out from under me,” Fraser warned.

She lifted her brows. He must be in trouble if he admitted that he needed the deal. “Are you in financial straits, Fraser? Do you need a loan?”

“Just stay out of my way, here and in Italy.”

Italy? She stopped abruptly outside the door. Was he going to the Stallon-E headquarters? “When is your meeting? I’ll try not to be in your hair.”

“Oh, you mean you don’t know?” he said sarcastically. Then his voice lowered. “I won’t let you bugger up my deal, Beatrice.”

“Darling, it’s not your deal until the ink’s dry.” She ended the call and blinked. How had he managed to get an audience with the company? They’d proven impossible to penetrate. Frowning, she strode into the bar.

Viola was already there with their distant cousin Sebastian. Vi had a club soda and lime, her drink of choice since she’d become pregnant. She was gently showing, noticeable only to those who really knew her, but her radiant glow gave her condition away.

It was a lovely thing, seeing her favorite sister so happy and in love. She’d been miserable for so long; if anyone deserved to have her dreams come true, it was Vi.

It made Bea wonder if there wasn’t more to life than conquering the world. Lately, she wondered what it’d feel like to grow a baby inside her, to sleep next to a man who’d pledged his heart to her forever.

She shook her head. She was acting maudlin. Maybe her mother was right and she
did
need a vacation.

Beatrice detoured to the bar to order a martini before she joined them. Carrying it to the table, she smiled at her sister before raising an eyebrow at Sebastian. “Nothing better to do this evening?”

“What could be better than annoying you?” Sebastian said with his usual pep. He lifted his glass to her. “Cheers, darling.”

She rolled her eyes, trying not to like him. The thing was: He’d helped her sisters when they’d needed it, and part of her would be forever grateful to him for that.

But the savvy businessperson inside didn’t trust him. He’d shown up so suddenly after he’d inherited the title from Reginald. She’d had him investigated and there was no monetary reason—Sebastian had plenty in the bank.

He claimed he was there to get to know his family. He also claimed that he’d never had any idea they’d existed.

Only Sebastian also had secrets.

She knew what they were—Wellington, her private investigator, had had no trouble uncovering them. She hadn’t told anyone what she’d discovered, not out of respect for his privacy, but because she wanted to see if he’d ever reveal them.

If she found out he’d insinuated himself on her family with nefarious reasons in mind, she’d eviscerate him.

Giving him a toothy smile meant to intimidate, Bea set her outer clothes on the bench and slid into the booth. “Who’s coming tonight?”

“Ros is nesting with Nick, so she’s out,” Vi said, moving over. “Gigi said she’d come. I didn’t hear from Portia or Summer, but I imagine they’re in, unless they get distracted at home.”

Bea sipped her drink. “Have you ever thought about how good Reginald’s death was for everyone?”

“Bea.” Viola shook her head, but then she sighed. “It’s true though. His death not only brought us together but it opened doors for us all. I don’t know that I’d have left Charles otherwise, which means I wouldn’t have found Finn or opened my art gallery.”

“And Rosalind met Nick at the funeral,” Bea pointed out. “They might have met in other circumstances, but what are the chances they’d have gotten together?”

Vi faced Sebastian. “Gigi was the only one not really affected. Her troubles were her own doing.”

“Titania, too.” Bea glanced at the current Earl of Amberlin. “You wouldn’t be here either, though we haven’t concluded if that’s good or not.”

He held his glass up in salute. “I think it’s pretty excellent, personally.”

“Let’s not talk about Father.” Vi reached for Bea’s hand. “You’ve barely called me lately. What has you preoccupied? Are you working on a deal?”

“When isn’t she working on a deal?” Sebastian asked with a wry twist of his lips.

Bea arched her brow as she sipped her martini. “Who invited you again?”

He leaned back, his arm across the back of the booth. “So what do you have cooking? And do you need anyone with advertising experience?”

He didn’t just have advertising experience—Sebastian had owned one of the most prominent advertising firms in New York. He’d sold it a couple years ago for a small fortune, according to her sources.

She shook her head. “The deal I’m working on is for a cutting-edge automotive company. You don’t know about electric vehicles, do you?”

“No”—he perked up—“but you know who does? Luca.”

She frowned. That was one person she didn’t need to think about.

Gigi and Titania walked in right then, a study in contrasts. Gigi was elegant and perfectly put together; Titania wore Converse trainers and jeans.

“Hello, lovelies,” Gigi said, smiling brilliantly as she took off her layers and slid in next to Sebastian. Ever since her last film came out to great critical acclaim, she’d been even more shining and bright than usual. Of course, her husband Merrick made sure she stayed happy, as well.

Then she looked at Bea and frowned. “Why do you look like that?”

“Like what?” Bea touched under her eyes, in case her makeup had smeared.

“Like you’re about to eat the heart of your enemy,” Titania interjected, setting her ever-present camera case on the table.

“She was just talking about the deal she’s working on,” Sebastian supplied. He paused, and then with great emphasis, he added, “It’s an auto company.”

“Does Luca know?” Titania smirked.

Gigi elbowed their youngest sibling.

Sebastian grinned. “For some reason, I thought of Luca, too. What about you, Viola?”

Vi took her hand, ever her champion. “Bea can decide what’s right for herself.”

“Thank you,” she said, giving them all quelling, oldest-child looks.

“But if she knew better, she’d talk to Luca about more than business,” Vi added, squeezing her hand.

Bea frowned at the woman who used to be her favorite sister. “Traitor.”

Gigi flagged a waitress and then returned to the conversation. “You normally invest in internet businesses. Why are you interested in something as yesterday as an auto company?”

“They’re developing new technology that could revolutionize the electric car industry. Their product is beautiful, and if it performs the way it’s reputed to it’ll be a bigger hit than Tesla.” She drew in the condensation on her glass. “Unfortunately, we’re having a difficult time arranging a meeting with them.”

“Camping on their doorstep might work,” Vi said, grinning at Titania.

Their youngest sister nodded. “When in doubt, stalk. It’s the Summerhill way.”

“They aren’t in England.” Bea cursed herself for admitting that, because there was one obvious question that’d follow.

“Where are they?” Sebastian asked.

She glowered at him. “Italy,” she bit out.

Gigi raised a brow. “Did I hear you say Italy?”

“Don’t go there,” she warned the table.

The waitress came by and took a drink order. Bea expected them all to light into her the moment the girl had gone to fetch the beverages, but everyone was suspiciously silent.

Finally, Vi faced her, squeezing her hand. “The thing is, Bea, if you saw the sparks we see whenever you and Luca are in the same room, you’d have a hard time keeping quiet, too.”

Bea winced. “Can we stop saying his name out loud?”

Sebastian chuckled. “He’s not like a demon, showing up if you say his name.”

She wasn’t so sure.

“Good thing Bijou Taylor is Rosalind’s maid of honor,” Gigi said. “Or else you might have to stand with Luca.”

She hadn’t thought of that, but the thought of the international pop star on Luca’s arm didn’t set well either. The picture was too perfect for comfort. Bijou was exactly the kind of woman Luca would date: stunning, successful, and smart. Bijou’s star power would only enhance Luca’s—something he was sure to like.

She didn’t care.
Bea lifted her drink and gulped it. It warmed a trail down to her stomach, reminding her that she hadn’t eaten since this morning.

“You should ask Luca for help,” Sebastian said. “He’s Italian and knows cars. Plus you like him. Maybe he’ll give you a private tour, if you know what I mean.”

Bea spewed gin all over the table.

With a strangled sound, Titania made a cutting motion across her throat.

“What?” Sebastian said with a frown. “You guys all agree with me.”

“Yes,” Gigi agreed, patting his hand, “but we don’t have a death wish.”

Sebastian shook his head and then leaned forward, staring Bea in the eye. “You’re acting stupid.”

Shocked silence fell on the table.

Putting a stony expression on her face that she’d perfected over the years, Bea looked him in the eye. “Am I?”

“Yes,” he exclaimed emphatically. “I’ve been here for a few months, and I’ve watched you and Luca dance around each other like boxers trying to figure out each other’s game.”

“It’s true,” Titania interjected.

Bea faced her youngest sister.

She shrugged. “Well, it is.”

“You aren’t a coward,” Sebastian said. “Either you like him or don’t, but isn’t it time you decided? Because, frankly, some innocent person is going to get caught in the sparks you guys put off and get hurt.”

It wasn’t the innocent who’d get hurt in this. She sipped her martini, hiding the panic she felt whenever she thought of Luca.

Vi hooked her arm through hers, pulling her closer. “Would it be so bad to ask Luca for help with this company? You always say to use everything at your disposal to win what you want. Why wouldn’t you use Luca?”

She shook her head. “Because Luca is—”

“Italian,” Gigi said with a raised brow. “And he’d do anything for you.”

Titania shrugged. “If you don’t like him, what does it matter if you ask him?”

Logically, she knew they were right. She should just give in to him a little and ask him to get her an invitation to meet the Stallon-E executives. What did she have to lose?

Her heart, maybe her dignity. Definitely the safety net she’d worked so hard to build around herself.

Quite frankly, she wasn’t sure which was worse.

She wouldn’t lose either, she vowed, setting her glass down. She was stronger than that. She’d prove it, too—she’d call him tonight.

Was he home, and would he be alone?

She didn’t care, she told herself grimly. She was interested in talking about business.

Mostly.

The doorbell rang, and every muscle in Luca’s body tightened.

Beatrice. When she’d called to ask to come over, he hadn’t been sure if it was a hoax or his greatest dream come true. He still wasn’t certain.

Filling two martini glasses with ice to chill, he set them on the bar counter in the living room and went to let her in.

He opened the door, annoyed when he found her on her mobile. He smoothed the instant frown that pulled his brows, instead leaning against the frame like he hadn’t a care in the world. “Beatrice.”

She glanced up from her phone, her eyes spitting fire. “It took you long enough to answer the door.” Head high, she pushed past him and entered.

Smiling in anticipation, he closed the door and followed her into the living room. He caught her looking at the martini glasses as she took off her coat.

She glared at him over her shoulder as she tossed her things onto a side chair. “This is all that’s coming off tonight.”

“As you wish.” He caressed her neck with the back of his fingers, smiling when she shivered. He turned and went to the bar to pull out his finest gin. “A drink?”

“I didn’t come here to drink,” she said instead of answering.

“You say you didn’t come here to get undressed either.” He glanced at her as he pulled out a shaker and vermouth he’d bought for just this occasion, months ago when he’d been home visiting.

“This isn’t a social call,” she said, frowning as she watched him begin to make the drinks.

“It’s after eleven. What else could it be?” He glanced at her as he shook her martini vigorously. “But I’m going to respect your wishes and refuse to allow you to seduce me.”

Her gaze narrowed, but she said nothing as he tossed the ice out of the glass and filled it with cocktail.

There were ice shards floating on the surface. Dry, with three olives, he told himself as he speared them, just the way she preferred. He liked to give her what she liked.

Filling his own glass, he took her drink to her and then lounged on the couch.

She stared at the martini as though she expected it to attack.