Sine Qua Non

Chapter Three

After that emotionally charged argument they’d had at the restaurant, the two of them circled around each other like wary cats in that big house. Nicholas seemed to know he was in the wrong; he’d arranged for a grocery delivery of some of her favorite things the next day. She would have rather had an apology but he’d always been bad at that. Even when he was a boy, he’d been overly solicitous, nearly transactional. Something else he must have learned from his father.

She suspected it was less that he was sorry for what he’d done and more that he was sorry she was mad at him. And that should have made her angry—god, it had made her so angry when she was younger—but now it just made her sad, because it meant that nobody in his life had ever loved him enough to show him that forgiveness didn’t need to come with strings attached.

You’re one to talk.

Jay rubbed at the back of her neck, futzing with Arthur’s schedule for the twentieth time. After her last screw up, she was taking no chances, double-checking all her work. Which meant that she was often completely drained by the end of the day, but it was worth it to remain in good standing.

She wouldn’t have felt so awful if there hadn’t been another text message from her mother waiting for her that morning. Don’t bother responding to this message, Justine. I can see you’re doing just fine without me.

It hadn’t occurred to her that her mother would be reading The Hollybrook Herald , though of course, it should have. Her mother would have recognized those diamonds instantly.

Maybe she was more like her mother than she’d thought. After all the times she had accused Nicholas of trying to buy her, she had sunk to the same manipulative depths by turning his desire against him. It had been easy. And it had hurt him—that was what surprised her most.

The betrayal in his eyes. The anger .

As they had driven to work that morning, she had gotten the sense that he was still angry with her. She had worn a keyhole blouse and a short skirt, and all he had done was glance briefly at her legs at a red light until she had made a show of tugging down the hem in the parking lot.

Then he made a low sound in his throat, which could have been approval or rebuke.

Before she could escape the car, he reached over and snapped one of her stockings against the back of her thigh right in the middle of the lot. Hard.

Jay yelped and glanced over her shoulder accusingly. He had one arm draped over the steering wheel. The other was resting on the center console, flexed like he might just grab her again.

“Don’t think you can get out of this by flashing your garters at me.”

Jay was pretty sure she had stopped breathing. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Is that how you’re playing it?”

He gave her a slow once-over that made her think of all the times he’d yanked her into dark rooms and shoved her up against the wall. “Or maybe you’re tired of discretion and want Daddy to throw up your skirt where everyone see.”

It felt like he’d doused her in cold water.

(You used to be such a good girl)

When she slammed the door on his laughter— damn him , she thought angrily—her face was flaming, and when he came in a few minutes later, she couldn’t bring herself to look at him.

Coward.

She was relieved when the time came for her morning 1:1 with Arthur, if only for the reassurance of hearing one person tell her that she wasn’t a total fuck up today.

“I’m glad to hear that,”

she told him, with a light laugh to cover just how relieved she really was. “And there’s no other opportunities that I could work on? I know you’re handling a lot of international clients right now. I could handle some of their portfolios if you want.”

“Everything’s fine, Jay. It’s all done and dusted. Was there anything else?”

“Um, yes, actually. Is it okay if I use about a week of PTO?”

“Of course. Have you taken my advice to heart and finally booked yourself a relaxing vacation?”

“I don’t know how relaxing it will be.”

She fiddled with her notepad. “I’m going back to San Francisco for a few days. My old landlord wants my things out so he can sell the place and strike while the iron is hot.”

“That’s too bad. Where do you live?”

“South of Cesar Chavez, by Bernal Hill.”

She blinked and caught herself. “I mean, Mission. It’s where all those murals are, if you’ve been.”

“Yes, a long time ago. I had friends who lived in the Haight. I’ve heard the city’s gotten quite expensive.”

“It has. There’s too many people and not enough affordable housing.”

Jay thought wistfully of the anonymity of the city, and how refreshing it had been to walk through crowds unnoticed. Her only regret was that there had never been enough time and money to stop moving and enjoy it. She sighed. “It’s really too bad. I liked it there.”

“Good luck on the move. I hope you manage to enjoy yourself at least a little bit while you’re away. There’s certainly plenty to do.”

And I can afford it now , she thought guiltily. Even without Nicholas constantly spending money on her, living with him rent-free was saving her a ton. She’d never had this much in her accounts in her life. Damon had been as controlling with her allowance as he had been with everything else.

“You can go ahead and put your PTO in when this meeting is over,”

Arthur said, cutting into her thoughts. “I’ll approve it by the end of the day. Oh, and since you’ll be leaving us for a little while, I’m adding something to your schedule. It was supposed to be for next week, but you can just move it up, timeline-wise, if you want to participate.”

Her phone buzzed. “The Administrative Lunch?”

she asked, glancing at the notification.

“Yes, it’s part of the quarterly offsite budget. All you have to do is save your lunch receipts and send them to accounts receivable. Since you and Annica are the only C-suite administrative assistants, you’ve been placed on the same ‘team.’ It’s thirty dollars per person.”

“Wow,”

said Jay. “That’s generous.”

“It was Nicholas’s idea.”

Arthur leaned back in his chair, closing his laptop. “It’s a slow day and I don’t have much on the schedule. You might consider going today.”

“Thanks, Arthur.”

Jay tried to sound upbeat as she walked out, privately wishing that she could have postponed the lunch until after she’d gotten back.

So you could sit and stew at your desk?

She had always wondered if she should have asked Annica out for coffee to thank her after her orientation, but her demeanor didn’t exactly invite confidence, and any overtures of friendliness that she had tried to extend that went beyond bland corporate professionalism had been rejected, so eventually, she had stopped trying because it was making her feel pathetic.

Nicholas referred to Annica as “the automaton”

at home, which was just another example of the way he demeaned the women around him. When she’d told him that was cruel and that if he did it too often, he might call her that to her face, he’d said “beep beep” in a dead monotone.

Don’t think about that , she thought, shoving that thought from her head before a nervous laugh could escape her.

She scooted her chair over an inch, tilting her head so she was hovering in Annica’s periphery. Her eyes flicked in her direction and she reluctantly removed her headphones. “What?”

“Do you want to do lunch today?”

Her eyebrows came together and her mouth pursed. For a moment, it almost looked like a sneer, but it disappeared so quickly that Jay wondered if she had imagined it. She typed out something on her screen and asked, without looking at Jay, “Why?”

Oh my god, she’s going to say no. How humiliating. She straightened her mug and candy dish, trying to speak around the nervous lump in her throat. “For the offsite? It’s supposed to be next week, but I’ll be on PTO. Arthur suggested we move it up,”

she added, embarrassed at this feeble attempt to inject authority into her request.

That seemed to sell Annica on the idea. She minimized the window on her screen that she had been typing into. “Okay. We can get sushi.”

Jay wasn’t really in the mood for the inevitable oshinko or avocado rolls, but since Annica seemed to know what she wanted, she wasn’t going to argue. She was mostly just relieved that she hadn’t refused point-blank to go. “Do you want to go now?”

“Give me an hour. I’m working on something for Mr. Beaucroft. We can go at noon.”

“Okay,”

Jay said. “An hour it is. I can’t wait.”

Annica put her headphones back on.

She kept them on until 11:59, when she abruptly grabbed her purse off the floor and stood up without any pretense. Jay, who was going through a document, looked up, startled. She barely had time to lock her computer and bolt down the hall as Annica headed for the door.

As they went through the main work area, she threw a glance towards Nicholas’s office, noting with surprise that his desk was empty. He must be at another meeting . She was relieved. That was a good sign. Maybe they were starting to see him as less of a liability. The news that the board had been considering replacing him had been a terrible shock.

She turned back to Annica cautiously. “I don’t think we’ve ever gotten lunch before.”

“You haven’t been here very long.”

“No, I guess not.”

Jay started to fold her arms, then caught herself and lowered them to her sides. What does that have to do with getting lunch? “I grew up here, though.”

“You look like you grew up here.”

Making a face, she stepped around a spill on the sidewalk, bumping against Jay. She didn’t apologize. “I grew up in Ridgeview. It’s different.”

“Oh, my favorite vegan restaurant is there. Ridgeview’s really nice.”

“Not the part I lived in. It was a real dump. I hated my apartment. One of my friends referred me to this job. She works in Acquisitions, under Stacey. Her name’s Samantha.”

Jay shook her head, though the name sounded familiar “So you live in Hollybrook now? Do you like it?”

“I mean, it’s a job. The pay is competitive enough and the benefits are good. But nobody wants to be a secretary forever. My goal is to be in management.”

She stopped walking. They had arrived at Dragon Sushi. Jay looked at the sign and then at Annica, smiling uncertainly as the bell clanged over their heads to announce their arrival.

Did she . . . just insult me?

Maybe she hadn’t meant it the way it sounded, she told herself, not really believing it. Standing behind Annica in line while she ordered something called “the dragon roll”

and observing her posture, Jay thought she seemed almost angry. It reminded her of how her mother would come home in a bad mood when the tips were bad, as if her problems had to be everyone else’s.

As she and the cashier hashed out toppings, Jay tried to remember if Annica had ever told her about anything about her personal life at all.

“What can I get you today?”

She smiled quickly. “Just a plain avocado roll for me, thanks.”

The man arched his eyebrows. “ Just an avocado roll? Your friend got the dragon roll. Are you sure I can’t persuade you to try something more adventurous?”

“I don’t know.”

She saw Annica’s shoulders stiffen at the word ‘friend.’

“We make all of our sauces in house,”

he wheedled.

Annica was scrolling on her phone while the guy behind the counter made her rolls. Jay had the sneaking suspicion that she wouldn’t be happy about waiting, but when she tried to catch Annica’s eye, she refused to look up.

“I’m vegan,”

she said hesitantly. “That’s going to be difficult.”

“We’ve got vegan mayo and sriracha in the back. I can make you a customized red dragon for the same price, as long as you like it hot.”

“As long as it won’t be too much trouble . . .”

“It won’t be,”

he assured her eagerly.

“Okay.”

Jay dropped her change in the tip jar after he rang her up, embarrassed by his enthusiasm. “Thank you.”

“That was nice.”

Annica’s voice was flat as Jay joined her by the fish tank. “Is he a friend of yours?”

“No.”

Jay tugged at her skirt. “I really didn’t expect him to go through all that trouble.”

“I don’t think he sees it as trouble.”

They locked eyes briefly before Annica turned away to study a fake Chinese scroll mounted on the wall. The hostility of her unspoken accusation crackled like electricity against her skin.

Jay glanced back at the counter, her discomfort ballooning when she caught the cashier looking at the two of them. “I can’t believe I haven’t heard of this place.”

“Mhm.”

“The décor is certainly a choice, though.”

“I think it’s fine. They’re a sushi restaurant.”

Wow. Okay, then.

“Orders thirty-eight and thirty-nine!”

They walked up together to get their boxes. Oh no , she thought, looking down at her receipt. He put his phone number on it. She crumpled it up discreetly as they walked out, hoping Annica hadn’t seen, but then she remembered she needed it to get her refund back.

“Where do you want to eat?”

She flattened the receipt out again, folding it into a square. “Outside? Inside? If we sit near the window, we can people-watch.”

“Actually, I’d rather just eat at my desk.”

“Oh,”

said Jay. “Okay. No problem.”

“Thanks.”

She hates you.

Arthur looked up as the two of them came in. Jay thought he seemed a little surprised to see them back so early. Annica immediately slid her headphones back on and Jay gloomily noticed the pictures tacked up around her monitor—she was into sports.

Nicholas came out of his meeting while she was picking at the fillings of her last roll. She ate the last tasteless bite and dropped her empty package into the wastebasket beneath her desk.

His eyes slid in her direction like he’d sensed her attention and Jay shifted uncomfortably in the too-hard seat, crossing her legs as she recalled his earlier threat. That was a mistake; his smile sharpened. If a wolf could smile, Jay thought, it would look a lot like Nicholas.

Then someone called his name and he turned away and she could breathe again.

A message popped up on her screen from Arthur. How was lunch?

Great! she lied. Thanks again for letting me move the date up.

Annica got up and Jay watched her go before reaching absently for her bottle of mineral water. It slipped from her fingers and spilled—all over her desk and keyboard. Because of course it did.

“ Shit .”

Jay lifted the keyboard out of the creeping path of liquid before it could short out. There was a roll of paper towels they kept between their desks, next to the tissues and the sanitizing wipes, and she tore off a generous wad as she began mopping, much to the amusement of her nearby neighbors, and probably Nicholas, too, since he saw and noticed everything.

I’d better make sure I didn’t get any water on Annica’s desk.

Annica hadn’t bothered to lock her computer before leaving and as Jay leaned over to clean the dividing line, she could see that she had a group chat open. That was a surprising rebellion for a woman who acted like a buzzing phone was an unforgivable noise violation.

I shouldn’t read that , she thought, but her eyes had already focused on the window.

The weather in Palm Springs is AMAZING . Bride is being a total B, though. How’s work on your end? Still caught up in the grind?

Wow, Annica had friends. Looks like she passes the Turing test, after all, Nicholas.

Her amusement quickly faded when her eyes caught on the next line.

Ugh, don’t ask. Was almost forced to eat with LMS today.

I’m sorry , her friend wrote back. Fake-ass bitches are the woooorst.

You should see her with our boss. So disgusting. “Yes, Mr. Beaucroft?”

while wearing the shortest skirts you can imagine. He was actually playing with her hair the other day.

The friend had sent a frowny face. Maybe little miss slutshine will get her slutty ass fired.

I have a whole week free of her , Annica had written, less than five minutes ago. She just put her PTO on the work calendar today. Thank GOD.

Down the hall, Jay heard the telltale bang of the bathroom door. Annica was coming back.

Jay tore off another sheet of paper towels and got on her hands and knees to catch the spills that had started dripping from the edge—and then remembered the throwaway comment about her short skirt. She scrambled upright just as a man from sales, hovering near the copier, swiftly began walking away like he hadn’t just been looking at her ass.

Annica paused, looking down at her with a frown. Gauging the distance between her and the computer screen, and clearly wondering what she’d seen.

All of it , Jay thought, sliding the graying paper towel along the edge of her desk. I saw all of it.

“Do you need help?”

Annica quickly leaned over to minimize the chat window.

“No.”

Jay barely recognized the sound of her own voice. “I’ve got it.”

Her eyes flicked to the raised mezzanine. Nicholas had an elbow propped on his desk, and was leaning over to watch her. When she glared at him, he picked up his phone.

Hers buzzed. The wet T-shirt contest was yesterday.

I’m not in the mood, Nicholas .

She set her phone face-down firmly where he could see it. She felt miserable, sick, and hot.

Little Miss Slutshine—was that really what they were calling her?

She dropped the wad of paper towels in the trash and plopped back into her chair, opening up the spreadsheet of international clients that Arthur had insisted were fine not to check.

Little Miss Slutshine , she thought again, miserably. It was so awful, it was almost funny.

*****

Whoever had upset Jay was clearly someone whose opinions she valued. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have gotten nearly so upset. Which meant that whoever was spreading rumors was either his charming stepmother or someone at work, or else she’d lied to protect her friends.

Ex-friends.

His anger at the stunt she’d pulled in the car shifted into irritation that she felt the need to hide things from him. To manipulate him. Maybe his sweet little bird wasn’t quite as sweet as he’d thought. But then, he’d always gotten a different side of her than everybody else. Nicholas suspected that very few people had gotten a glimpse of the bitter Jay revealed by her journal.

He did a few laps in the pool to clear his head, sharpening his focus. He could see her moving beyond the clear glass windows, heading for the kitchen. She’d taken off her stockings and now her legs were bare beneath that slinky little skirt.

The air became colder and soon, his muscles began to burn. As he sliced through the water, he imagined her bound on one of the recliners, water beading on her cold, wet skin. Those long, beautiful legs wrapped around his waist as he—

Dammit. He stopped with a grimace and stepped out of the pool, toweling himself off on the deck as the cold air deflated his erection. He dropped the towel on the floor of the sunroom while latching the door, rounding the two corners that led to the kitchen. Jay had moved to one of the bar stools. There was a sweet, yeasty smell coming from the oven. She glanced up at him before glaring down at the pages of her book.

“It smells good in here.”

“It’s pumpkin manicotti.”

“Mm. Sounds good.”

“Who says you’re getting any?”

“Don’t be cross with me, blue jay.”

He bent over her, running his hand down her thigh as she pushed the book aside to keep it from getting wet. “I said I was sorry.”

Jay snapped the book closed. “You didn’t, actually. You tried to bribe me with a grocery order and then you took your shirt off. Now you’re getting water all over the floor.”

Nicholas spun her stool around. Her eyes widened as she took in his bare chest and tight, damp trunks. Those seemed to be of particular offense, from the way her color heightened.

Apparently, the cold hadn’t been as effective as he’d thought.

“I’m sorry.”

He brushed his lips over hers before kissing her full on the mouth. When she relaxed into the kiss just a little, he gave her bare leg a light smack before shoving his hand up her skirt and grabbing a full handful of ass and thigh, growling into her ear, “You little tease.”

Jay yelped when he pushed his hand beneath her underwear, tugging at his wrist. He let her push him away, watching her chest heave as she shot him a furious, thwarted look.

“I am not a tease . I was crossing my legs.”

“You know what you were doing.”

Nicholas went to the fridge and took out a cold water. “Don’t tease me at work again or I’ll do things that will make you blush.”

It had been intended as a playful warning but only seemed to rile her up further. She was standoffish all throughout dinner, sipping at the very expensive wine he’d brought up from the cellar in a nervous, dissatisfied way, evading all of his attempts at real conversation.

And whatever satisfaction that had sparked in him at finally seeing his stepsister look at him like a man was occluded by the knowledge that every time he had her, he was driving her further and further away.

Fuck it , Nicholas thought.

(What if we didn’t talk at all?)

He caught her on the way to her room that night, wrapping his fingers around her slender wrist and tugging until she was forced to turn around. “If you don’t want to talk to me, there’s other things we can do.”

Her eyes flickered up to his, wide with blown-out pupils and she made a sound like she might protest. “You don’t even have to look at me.”

Jay shivered. He hadn’t wanted to manhandle her, so his grip on her wrist was loose enough that she could have pulled away if she wanted, but she didn’t. She let him drag her into his bedroom and push her on the bed, her unresisting body belied by the defiance on her face.

“Are you just going to lie there?”

He mocked her gently as he pushed up her shirt and kissed along the underside of her ribs. “You’re only here because you want to be. Making me do all the work doesn’t make change how much you love being Daddy’s little slut.”

That seemed to throw a switch; her eyes flashed in the gloom, and she really looked at him for the first time since they’d started. Acquiescence suddenly became violent, active participation. She bucked beneath him so forcefully that it had taken some effort to pin her down, and she fought him on every thrust, making it impossible to be gentle.

On some level, he knew that this behavior was concerning. He should have stopped. A good man would have stopped. But he was not a good man, so he fucked her the way she seemed to want him to and then held her body against his in a crushing embrace when it was over and she let out a raw, heartbreaking sob.

“Shh,”

he whispered. He ran his fingers through her hair as she trembled, face buried in his shoulder. His other hand smoothed up and down her spine in small, soothing circles. “Shhh. It’s all right. Poor little blue jay. I’m sorry. Daddy didn’t mean to be so rough.”

“That’s how I want it.”

Nicholas stilled, uncertain if he’d heard her correctly. He could feel her heart fluttering against his chest, like the wings of a small desperate creature. As his fingers traced back up her vertebrae, he felt her flinch, as if his tenderness was worse than his brutality. “You cried.”

“Yes.”

Her voice was muffled. She still wouldn’t look at him. “Isn’t that so screwed up?”

“Not if that’s what you want.”

He cupped the back of her head, stirring the warm roots of her hair. Her breath exploded against his prickling skin in a harsh burst as he resumed his gentle caresses. “Do you need something, little bird? Or do you just want this?”

“This.”

The word was effortful, like it had to be dragged from her.

“All right.”

He rested his chin on her head, rubbing the silky skin of her back. “I’ll just hold you.” She shuddered and he felt her nipples pebble against his chest. “Just relax,” he said, letting his fingers drift up to the back of her neck. “I’ll be right here.”

He wasn’t sure which of them had fallen asleep first. But when he was spurred awake in the middle of the night by the urge to take a leak, she had already slipped away and she would barely look at him at all in the car ride to work, and he did not know what he had done to cause it.

But he knew one thing he could do to fix it.

Nicholas removed his sunglasses as he strolled up to Accia, tucking them into his open shirt collar. The bougainvillea flowering along the sides of the building were in full bloom, perfuming the air with a heavy, familiar fragrance. Unlike when he’d come here for dinner with Jay, many of the outdoor tables were empty, and those who were here appeared to be having business brunch.

He was running ten minutes late: late enough to make someone wonder if he wouldn’t show up at all, while still leaving himself enough deniability to blame the whole thing on parking.

Tilting his head, he peered through the glass windows shrouded in their natural curtains of ivy and thought he could just make out the silhouette of his intended victim. It looked like he’d already ordered a drink, which probably meant he was nervous and wanted something to do with his hands.

This is going to be fun , thought Nicholas.

“Two for Beaucroft,”

he told the host. It was the same girl from the other night and she eagerly showed him to his table. The relief on Michael’s face was palpable as he sat down.

“Hey, man. The parking on this street is terrible, isn’t it? Thanks for setting up this meeting. I thought maybe you wouldn’t remember me. You were just a kid the last time I saw you.”

Flipping through the menu, Nicholas said, “Oh, I remember you.”

He lifted his eyes to study the other man and was pleased when he saw a brief flicker of unease on Michael’s face. “Oh,”

he said. “Well, good.”

Not for you .

Nicholas flagged down a waiter and ordered himself a glass of wine. Michael demurred, sticking with what appeared to be iced tea. Either he’s cheap or he’s watching his health .

“What are you having?”

he asked, not really caring.

“Iced tea. The wife thinks I drink too much.”

“You’re married?”

“Yeah. Do you remember Angie?”

“No,”

he lied, taking a sip of wine.

“I’m surprised to hear that. She was really popular in our grade.”

Michael picked up his glass of tea, pulling a slight grimace. “Angie was friends with Jay. We started dating after college.”

Nicholas repressed a sneer. Friends, my ass . “After Jay.”

“Uh, yeah. After Jay. I guess you’d call it a whirlwind courtship.”

He wondered how many blowjobs Jay’s old ‘friend’ had had to give out before enough blood left Michael’s brain for proposing to sound like a good idea.

Michael had been slim and athletic in high school, with a whole head of hair that was now slowly receding. A small paunch strained the buttons of his Hugo Boss dress shirt. Only someone petty-minded and shallow would call him unattractive and Jay, unfortunately, was neither of those things.

“Are you married?”

Michael asked.

“No. I haven’t had time to tie the knot.”

“Enjoy bachelorhood while you can, then.”

“I’ve been too busy to enjoy it.”

Nicholas stared into the depths of his wine, displeased, and not quite sure why. “Running my company consumes most of my time.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard your business has been doing very well.”

Michael took another compulsive sip of tea. “Quentin mentioned that you kept his hotel from going under during the housing crisis.”

Nicholas shrugged, though it was true that he had—after slapping the man with interest rates so high that they bordered on cruel. He owned Quentin’s ass. And knowing the men who had once courted his beautiful stepsister through the glossy centerfolds of their perfect lives were now completely at his mercy brought him no end of pleasure.

“I also heard from Amanda Strife that you’re the one who’s been buying up all that open land. Apparently, her old company sold its lot to you.”

There was a question burrowed in there like a tick. Nicholas set down his wine glass firmly.

“As fun as it’s been wandering down memory lane, what did you really want to meet with me about? You mentioned you had a business proposition for me. Spit it out. Go big or go home.”

Michael paused, and then moved his own glass carefully out of the way, too. It was called mirroring, which was appropriate, because its effects were just as revealing.

In a beautiful display of timing, the waiter chose that moment to come over and Nicholas was treated to the sight of seeing Michael stammer his way through his order while trying to mentally prepare his hard sell.

“I’ll have the carrot hummus and the Belgian endives,”

he said easily, when the waiter looked at him. He’d carefully studied the menu beforehand. “You were saying?”

“Uh, well, as you know, our fathers did business together. They had a contract, which lapsed a few years ago. Just before your father’s death, actually.”

Nicholas kept his face blank. “He funded a lot of our development projects in Hollybrook, which was great when the economy was booming. It really delivered on the returns. But now things are tight and there’s less to build. We’ve had to make significant cuts and you own a lot of the prime real estate in the area that’s currently zoned for business. I checked the property records.”

“Did you.”

“It’s my business to know,”

he said, a little defensively. “This town may have become a bedroom community but there’s a lot of people who would be very interested in taking advantage of some of those light commercial zones.”

“Nobody goes to the mall anymore?”

“Exactly.”

Michael nodded, like he hadn’t just been slighted. “I was hoping you’d honor your father’s business deal with us and front the money in exchange for a generous return on your investment and an offer for one of those empty lots. We could probably add some stock options, too.”

“I thought you said nobody wanted to build. Are you sure this project of yours wouldn’t just be bringing coal to Newcastle?”

“There’s an LA tech firm that would like to make use of that open space. Quentin’s cousin is married to their CEO. They want to turn it into an administrative hub. They’re thinking it might incentivize some of their executives to remain on as consultants when they’re put out to pasture.”

“Assuming I sell it to you.”

He took another sip of wine. “At a steep discount, it sounds like, given your significant cuts.”

Michael had the grace to blush. “I would consider it a personal favor, from one friend to another.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t ask Jay to come to me when you saw her at the farmers’ market since you two were such good friends.”

Their lunches arrived. The distraction was not enough to prevent the look of surprise, and then wariness, that flashed across the other man’s face. “She mentioned that? We didn’t talk for very long. The babysitter needed to leave, so my wife and I were in a bit of a rush.”

“Too busy for a personal favor, from one friend to another?”

“She was never all that interested in discussing business. I always thought that was strange, because our dads were so close. Most of the other kids in school were friends because of who their parents were. I thought that was why she went out with me, because of her stepfather. We made sense. But she always got upset whenever I tried to bring it up.”

You goddamn fool. “Jay isn’t that type of woman.”

“Look, I don’t know what she told you about what happened, but Jay isn’t exactly an open book. She left here without telling anyone.”

He paused, glancing warily at Nicholas, who said nothing. “She must have gone through some shit. Her face—it’s not the same. When we talked, it looked like she could use a friend.”

“And you thought you could be that friend?”

Nicholas speared an endive viciously with his fork. “Comfort her while she cries? I wonder what your wife would think about that.”

Some of the color leached out of Michael’s face. “I really think you have the wrong idea about me. I love my wife. Jay and I are over.”

“I’ve seen a lot of men like you in the industry. You love your little development projects until you decide the upkeep is too much trouble and it becomes cheaper just to scrap the whole lot and start over. That’s why I own so many empty lots, Valdez. Because men like you get bored.”

He leaned forward, steepling his fingers together.

“I’ll sell you your lot, but on one condition—stay the fuck away from my sister.”

“What?”

“Jay.”

The word fell like a rock in the silence. “Keep her name out of your mouth. If you see her coming, head the other way. Your wife, too. She’s never liked Jay, despite what you think.”

“No, no, that’s not right. Angie and Jay were friends.”

“No, they weren’t,”

Nicholas said coldly. “And neither are we.”

Michael blinked rapidly, looking around—as if the waiter would save him, Nicholas thought, allowing himself the privilege of a smile.

“Did I do something to piss you off?”

“I thought my offer was generous.”

“It’s insane.”

Much to his amusement, Michael was holding his steak knife like it was a sword. “Did she put you up to this, or was this your idea?”

“The fact that you have to ask just shows how little you really know her.”

“Because nobody knows her as well as you?”

Michael shook his head, full of self-righteous disgust. “We always thought it was weird, how possessive you were of her. It went beyond obnoxious tagalong younger brother. You looked at her like—”

Like you used to? He smiled cynically at the other man. Like she’s the only one that matters?

“My god.”

Michael raked a hand through his thinning hair. Damp patches were beginning to form underneath his arms. “When I asked her why she left, she said it was because there was nothing left for her here. That people changed and moved on.” Michael looked at him sharply and he kept his face composed, even as he felt some dark piece of his soul fracture. “Was it you?”

“Was what me?”

“Were you the one who made her leave? She was wearing your mother’s jewelry, Nicholas.”

“So?”

“So some people think that means that she’s also sharing your bed.”

He lunged forward and Michael leaped from his chair with a yelp. But his goal was not the other man’s throat; it was his own wineglass. He swept it from the table with a single, well-placed knock and it shattered rather beautifully on the tasteful tiled floors with a sound that seemed to take at least a couple of years off Michael Valdez’s pointless existence.

A waitress immediately bounded over with a dustpan. “Are you all right, sir?”

“I’m fine. We’re both fine,”

he said, flashing a disarming smile at the woman while his eyes flicked to his pale companion. “I can pay for the glass.”

“Oh no, there’s no need,”

she said. “It happens all the time. I’ll go get you another.”

Nicholas maintained his smile until she brought him the second glass, topped off with a more than generous pouring of wine. Only when she was gone did he allow it to fall like the vast curtains of a stage, along with the last of his restraint.

“That was a very stupid thing to say to me.”

Michael looked away. “I didn’t mean it.”

“I believe you did, actually—because you’re still not over her. After all these years. How pathetic.”

Nicholas studied Michael over the rim of his new glass. “I might not be my father, but I am my father’s son. And I will shatter your fucking face if you speak to me—or her—like that again.”

“I . . .”

His mouth worked silently. “I understand.”

“I don’t think you do.”

Nicholas took a long, slow drink of wine. “Not if you’re asking me questions like that. In the future, I suggest you keep your suspicions to yourself. Otherwise, you and your family won’t be able to show your faces within fifty miles of here by the time I’m through with you, unless it’s in a hobo camp under some freeway overpass.”

Michael pursed his lips. “You know you can’t buy everyone. Your father found that out.”

“I don’t need to buy everyone. Just you. Now, take the deal. Don’t be stupid.”

The other man looked as if he wanted desperately to say something but couldn’t bring himself to do it. “Fine. I’ll get the contracts drafted up. My lawyer can have them ready to go by Monday morning. He’ll think it’s strange but . . . I’ll make sure he doesn’t talk.”

“And?”

Michael grimaced. “I’ll speak with Angie and stay away from Jay.”

“Good. It’s been a pleasure doing business with you. I’m sure your father would be so proud.”

He dropped his napkin on top of his plate, slapping down a sizable stack of twenties beside it. As he passed, he clapped Michael on his shoulder, digging his thumb right into that tender axillary nerve. “I’ll be waiting for that phone call with bated breath.”