The Sapphire Affair (A Jewel Novel Book 1) (7 page)

CHAPTER NINE

Her stepfather held his arms out wide, beaming as Steph walked up the steps to Tristan’s, his favorite brunch spot on the island. No surprise that brunch was his favorite meal. That was a fitting choice for a man who liked the finer things in life. Wine, art, caviar, trips, and very pretty women.

But he also liked his kids. He practically bounced on his sandaled feet as Steph headed to him. The second she reached the top step, he wrapped his arms around her and held her close.

Like he’d missed her.

Like she was his precious girl.

She caught a faint whiff of his woodsy aftershave, a familiar scent from her youth. His arms wrapped around her were the definition of safety. So many times growing up, he’d comforted her with a hug when she’d fallen, gotten hurt, lost a game, and so, some kind of muscle memory kicked in as he embraced her.

Family.

She’d never known her own father. Eli was as close as she’d ever come to a dad. Perhaps that’s why the way it ended hurt even more, knowing he’d absconded with the money her mom had given him to start his business. Steph’s brain told her Eli was a con man, a thief. Trouble was that standing there in his strong, warm hug, she desperately wanted her brain to be wrong. How could she love and loathe this man so much at once? Her muscles tensed with simmering frustration over how he’d hurt the person she loved most at the same damn time that she was actually happy to see him, too. She was tired of the push-and-pull tug-of-war inside her heart, of trying to sort the truth from the lies. If she was to have any peace, she had to find out which was the real Eli.

“It’s been too long,” he declared, breaking the embrace and dropping his hands to her arms, smiling widely as he seemed to drink her in. “You don’t look a day over twenty. How old are you now? Eighteen? Fifteen?”

“Eli,” she said, rolling her eyes.

“I know you’re twenty-eight, sweetheart. Let’s catch up on everything. I want to hear every detail of what you’ve been up to,” he said, and in mere seconds, the maître d’ swooped by and seated them at the best table on the terrace. The restaurant had just opened for brunch and was already bustling.

As soon as he walked away, the restaurant owner marched over and beamed. “Hello again, Mr. Thompson,” he said.

“Good to see you, Tristan. I’m still noodling on our conversation from this morning.”

“Excellent. Let it marinate some more. As long as you need. I do think it can be good for both of us.” The tall, salt-and-pepper-haired man turned to Steph and dropped a chaste kiss on her cheek. “And welcome back, Miss Steph. What a pleasure to see you again, too.”

“Thank you so much, Tristan. I see you’re as busy as ever,” she said, flashing a quick smile to the man she’d known for years—a local friend of her stepdad’s.

“I can’t complain one bit,” he said, handing them menus, then bowing briefly before he scuttled away.

“Can’t complain my butt,” Eli muttered.

She arched an eyebrow in question.

“He complains about everything,” Eli whispered.

“Are you doing business with Tristan?” Steph asked.

Eli flicked open his cloth napkin and waved it once, before spreading it across his lap. “Potentially. He wants me to back a new venture of his, but then again, doesn’t everyone?” he said, with an
it’s-good-to-be-the-king
look in his eyes.

“I don’t know. Does everyone?” she asked drily, her lips quirking up as she teased him.

“Some days, my dear, it seems that way. Everyone lining up to ask for a little of this, a little of that,” he said, rubbing his thumb across two fingers.

“Do you ever say yes?” she asked as she spread a champagne-colored napkin over her lap.

He lowered his voice to a thread. “Rarely. I’m actually trying to be retired. To devote my energy to my charitable endeavors.”

She furrowed her brow. Two things didn’t add up. She’d never known him to be terribly interested in charity, plus, he was still working. “But you run a nightclub,” she said, zeroing in on one logical fallacy.

“The club is hardly work. That’s nothing but passion. I’m usually there in my office every day at this time, and it feels like pure pleasure.”

“The club is doing well, I hear,” she said, damn curious if the missing money had funded his passion.

“It is. You should come by and see it. Dance a little, feel the Sapphire energy. It’s wonderful. Come by tonight. Jane Black is in town, and she’ll be singing a few of her hit songs. I know you love her music.”

A ping of excitement zipped through her. “I do love Jane Black,” Steph admitted begrudgingly, because these moments made her mission tougher. He knew her likes, he knew her dislikes, he knew her.

“I know you do,” he said with a smile. “So stop by. I’ll make sure you’re on the VIP list. I have to head over to Little Cayman tonight, so I won’t be there, but my manager, Ferdinand, is. If you need anything, he’s the man with the snake tattoo on his left arm.”

“Duly noted. Sounds like he’d be hard to miss, then. And I’m glad the club is doing well,” she said, though that wasn’t entirely true. If it were doing well at her mom’s expense,
glad
wasn’t the right word. The word rhymed with
glad
, though, and had an
as hell
following it.

“It’s a dream nightclub,” Eli said. “Plus, it feeds my charity work. I donate all my profits.”

“You do? That’s really great,” she said with a brief smile. She’d never known this side of him, the charitable one.

“Indeed. I have many causes I support, but for now, look at the menu. Everything is amazing, as you know.”

A few minutes later, a waiter arrived with glasses of water and to take their orders. Eli chose a mimosa and eggs benedict, while Steph opted for eggs and toast.

“You should get a quiche. Or a salmon omelet. Don’t get something you can eat at a diner,” he said.

“I wasn’t aware that eggs and toast were gauche diner food. But I’ve filed that away now,” she said, tapping her temple as the waiter left.

“That’s not it. I just want you to enjoy yourself. You should always enjoy yourself when you’re with me,” he said, tucking his hands under his chin and shaking his head in admiration. “I can’t believe you’re really here. You’re sure you’re not just an apparition? A figment of my happy imagination?” he said, waving a hand like a magician with a scarf.

My God, that’s what the man was—a damn wizard. So charming. So ebullient. Pretty much the happiest person you’d ever meet in your life.

“It’s really me. In the flesh,” she said, gesturing to herself like she was posing for a selfie.

“I’m simply delighted. Do you have any idea how happy it makes me to hear from you?”

“A lot?” she asked playfully, letting herself enjoy this moment.

“More than I can even measure,” he said, reaching for his glass. “Tell me everything. How is your company? Is that jerk who tried to hurt your tour business suffering?”

“I don’t know. I don’t talk to Duke, so I don’t have a good sense on a scale of one to ten of his daily suffering.”

“Let’s hope it’s a ten,” he said, narrowing his eyes and brandishing his teeth, as if he were ready to gnash Duke to a bloody pulp. “I wish you’d have let me help you with that fiasco.”

Steph gaped at him, staring at him like an oddity. “You didn’t offer,” she pointed out incredulously, because she wasn’t going to let him play revisionist historian.

“You didn’t ask,” he said.

Touché.

“Fair enough,” she said. “Besides, my mother helped me out, and I’ve been rebuilding.”

“Good. I’m thrilled.” He leaned back in his chair and glanced briefly at the crowds click-clacking by—businessmen and -women streaming in and out of banks. “But do you need anything now?” He waved broadly behind him. “My bank is right over there.”

She shook her head. “Thank you, I’m good. And speaking of my mom, there’s something I wanted to bring up,” she said, straightening her spine, readying for her mission. This was why she came to the Caymans early. To right a wrong, and the simplest way to do that was to ask.

After all, he’d given her the permission seconds ago.

He raised his eyebrows, waiting.

She drew a quiet breath, letting it fill her lungs, with strength, she imagined. Then, calmly, she asked, “I have a request. There’s something I’d like you to do.”

He cocked his head. “Of course. What is it?”

He sounded so damn genuine. Like he really would do anything she asked.

His eager reply further emboldened her.

“It’s about the money Mom invested in your fund when you started it. I think you should pay her back. You would never have had the hedge fund without her. She made it possible for you to start a business that made you rich. It’s only fair to return the seed money, especially now that you’ve retired,” she said, making her argument crisp and clear, laying out the facts.

But his response was a dismissive laugh. “That’s silly, dear. She has her jewelry sales.”

Her brow knit together. Seriously? That was his answer? She shoved aside the curl of annoyance in her gut, keeping her voice even as she tried again. “Eli, she helped you in a big way when you needed her, and she’s trying to rebuild her business now after the divorce. Don’t you think it would be the right thing to do with the money?”

“She doesn’t need
my
money if she’s busy selling jewelry again. She’s always been so talented with her little artsy tinkering.”

His
money? Ha. The jury was out on whether it was even his money at all. “Her
little artsy tinkering?
Her little artsy tinkering funded your company that you just retired from. And you made sure she got
nothing
in the divorce,” she said, a bead of anger coiling through her. Screw her sentimental heart. Her brain quickly erased the question of which Eli was real. He was a rat bastard right now, but if she didn’t get ahold of her roiling emotions soon, her recon mission would go bust.

She reminded herself to breathe. To focus on her prana or something. Whatever that was.

Eli waved a hand in the air, erasing it all. “Bah, that’s crazy. It was a completely fair settlement. But let’s not talk of such unpleasant matters, my dear. Look, our brunch is here,” he said, his eyes lighting up as a new waiter served them their plates.

“Hey, Steph,” the waiter said as he set down her eggs. She glanced up to see a guy who had helped out at Devon’s from time to time was serving them. His eyes sparkled brightly.

“Good to see you, Reid,” she said, rising to give him a quick hug. “What have you been up to? Did you ever get the boat you had your eye on?”

“I did. I’m hoping to start a charter fishing business soon,” he said, and her mind flicked back to Jake. Maybe someday, Jake would return to this island and charter a fishing boat from this waiter.

“You’ll have to let me know if you do, so I can refer tourists to you.”

“That would be excellent,” he said with a wide smile. He turned to her stepfather and gestured to his food. “Bon appétit, Mr. Thompson. It’s always a pleasure to see you here at Tristan’s.”

“And you as well, Reid.” When he walked away, Eli tipped his forehead to the waiter. “Everyone here loves you. You really should move here.”

“Yes, I should. But I like Miami, too. Because I like my mother. She’s not the kind of person who hurts someone she loves,” she said, her voice calm, her tone deliberately low. But her eyes locked with his as she aimed to deliver a crystal-clear message.

He picked up his fork and looked at her, speaking firmly. “What happened between your mother and me is between us. We’ve put it behind us. Let’s you and I do the same. Let’s move on and forge a new relationship.”

Her jaw dropped as she reached for a piece of toast. “Are you kidding me? It’s behind you and her? Hardly.”

“It absolutely is. Shelly and I have moved on. So let’s focus on other matters,” he said, digging into his eggs benedict.

“Eli, you need to play fair. Why can’t you at least return the money she funded your firm with?”

“Sweetheart,” he said, admonishing her.

“Or is that money someplace else?” she asked, pressing the issue, refusing to let it go.

“Steph. Let’s have a nice meal together,” he said, taking time to punctuate each word. He pointed to her plate and her untouched food. “Eat your eggs and toast. And let’s set a time for dinner. I want you to meet Isla.”

“Is that your new girlfriend?” she asked as she picked up her fork.

“Fiancée. And she’s amazing,” he said as he finished chewing. “You’ll love her,” he said, his voice laced with admiration and reverence. “I feel like she’s my soul mate.”

Steph wanted to gag, or pretend to gag. Just so he could see how ridiculous he sounded. Yet, she also knew that he meant it. The man fell in love at the drop of a hat and was convinced every woman he screwed was the love of his life.

“That’s great,” she said through clenched teeth. She bit into her toast so she wouldn’t accidentally spew words of utter frustration all over the table.

“You know what’s really great? We connect on every level.
It
has never been better,” he said, whispering as he waggled his eyebrows at the word
it
.
Oh Lord. Oh dear. Please stop.
“At my age, too! Can you believe it?”

“It’s truly astonishing,” she said, deadpan, as he simply beamed in amazement of his own supposed prowess.

“I’m just a lucky son-of-a-bitch. To have love and passion like this. Have you ever just had that kind of instant chemistry with someone?” he asked, snapping his finger.

Her mind wandered briefly to yesterday, and the way Jake had pressed his hard body against hers by the wall. Her stomach loop-the-looped like a hang glider as sparks raced through her. Their chemistry was instantaneous. It was electric. She craved more of it and hoped he’d follow the trail of clues to find her again this afternoon. If he did, perhaps they could explore more of their chemistry.

Wait.

She shouldn’t be thinking about him while talking to her stepdad. She certainly didn’t want to be lusting after Jake in the same breath as Eli waxed on about his bedroom escapades.