Spring Romance: NINE Happily Ever Afters

by Tessa Bailey

  “No, not really. I’ve met Mr. Shaunessy a few times. I went to prom with his son.”

  Alice’s expression was strange, like she’d swallowed wrong—but the feeling seemed to pass quickly. “Okay, then, we’ll start there.”

  * * *

  It took nearly an hour to go through the file of Liam Shaunessy that was stored completely in Alice’s head. First, it was his basic history. Where he went to school, how he came to HBHC, his ascension to the board. Next came the personal. He was married with two kids, both boys, which I already knew. He lived in Cape Hill and enjoyed golf and duck hunting.

  Finally, we moved onto social politics. There’d been a squabble between his wife and another board member’s over an interior designer, something about using the same upholstery patterns. As a result, they didn’t speak to each other, and it was imperative they not be seated together at any events.

  I wanted to rub away the pain it caused in the front of my forehead, but I sat dutifully and listened as Alice laid out all the skeletons and drama associated with the Shaunessys. Thankfully, her desk phone rang with an urgent call, and I was dismissed until our appointment tomorrow.

  I practically leapt from the chair and hurried toward the door—

  “Marist?”

  I froze, halfway to freedom, then slowly turned to face her. She clicked a button on her phone to mute the call and picked up a black journal, a place marker ribbon trailing out the bottom.

  “Can you drop this off at Royce’s desk before you go? It’s some of my ideas for his party.”

  I took the journal with a tight smile. “Sure, but where—”

  “His office is three doors toward the elevator.” Her focus shifted to her computer screen. “See you tomorrow.” She pressed the button on her phone and went back to her conversation. Task accomplished, I ceased to exist to her at that point.

  I folded my arms over the journal as I strode down the hall. It was quiet on the floor. Most people had their doors closed, either in meetings or out, which made sense. It was close to lunchtime. The desk across from Royce’s office was empty and not in use. Had they not hired an assistant for him? Or did he not need one?

  The door to his office was ajar. I went to knock, but my knuckles hovered at the wood when his brusque voice rang out. “And how long is that going to take?”

  A male voice was piped through the speakerphone. “If you want me to move on it now? A few weeks. It might raise flags.”

  “I don’t care,” Royce said. “Just get it done.”

  My hand moved of its own volition, nudging the door open.

  The layout was the same as Alice’s office. The back wall was all glass and had a view of the harbor, but otherwise they were completely different. His furniture was masculine and traditional. Ornate scrolls were woodworked into the side of his dark oak desk. Like his room at home, the space was devoid of personal items. Only one piece of framed artwork decorated the wall, and I recognized the crimson Harvard logo.

  Maybe he didn’t hang artwork on the walls because, like the jewelry store, it couldn’t compete with the most beautiful thing in the room—him. Royce stood at the side of his desk and leaned over it, his hands in fists resting on the top. He wasn’t wearing his suit coat or his tie; both hung on the back of his chair. The sleeves of his shirt were undone and rolled back, his collar undone.

  With his terse conversation over, he stared down at the desktop, head hung and lost in thought. The corded muscles traveling along forearms twisted, the line broken only by the expensive watch on his wrist. The sight of him so contemplative and backlit by the windows was breathtaking. It looked as if the fate of the world was on his shoulders.

  I snuck my phone out of my purse, hurrying to capture the image. In my rush, I’d forgotten to put it on silent, and the electronic shutter clicking made his gaze snap to me. His eyes were wild and furious until he realized who he was seeing. His expression quickly morphed to confusion.

  I lowered my phone and tried to act natural.

  “Marist?” He straightened from the desk. “What are you doing here?”

  “I had an appointment with Alice. She asked me to bring you this before I left.” I held up the journal and gave it a small shake.

  “What is it?”

  He hadn’t invited me into his office. It felt rude to charge in, so I stayed in my place. “She said it was ideas for your party.”

  “Oh.” He held out his hand, curling his fingers in a come closer gesture. “Shut the door.”

  I inhaled deeply, did as he said, and handed him the book, only for him to toss it with a thud onto his desk.

  “I’m sorry about the other night.”

  An apology from a Hale? I didn’t think remorse was something they could experience. I didn’t want him to read any emotion on my face. “Telling me to leave? Or the stuff that happened before?”

  He cocked his head to the side and shot me a look that said I was being silly. “I meant how I had to kick you out. I’m not sorry about anything else.” He made a face. “Well, maybe that we were interrupted.”

  He leaned back against the desktop and crossed his arms over his chest. As his unhurried gaze worked over me, I shifted my weight on my pumps. It was strange to be standing alone in his office in the middle of the workday.

  I didn’t belong here.

  He didn’t seem to feel any of the discomfort I did. “What was your appointment with Alice about?”

  “Prep work for the interview.”

  A muscle along his neck twitched. Or . . . had I imagined it? He painted on a smile. “I can help with that if you’d like. Come over tonight.”

  I tensed, unsure if I was even allowed to say no. “I have plans.”

  “This weekend, then. I’ll send my driver.”

  “You don’t have to do that. Besides, I like driving.”

  It was like I’d just told him his account was overdrawn. Skepticism wrinkled the bridge of his nose. “Really?”

  “You don’t?”

  “No. I mean, I don’t know. I don’t drive.”

  What? I’d assumed he had a whole fleet of sports cars, and some days his hardest decision was which one to take for a spin. “Like, ever? Why not?”

  He tossed a hand up in the air casually, then used it to rub the back of his neck. “I’ve always had a driver, so I guess I never saw the point in learning.”

  Shock bolted through me. “You don’t know how?” I would never want to be that dependent on someone else. “Oh, my God, you should learn. I think you’d really enjoy it. When I’ve got my favorite song on and it’s just me in the car? I love it. That’s freedom.”

  I snapped my mouth shut, realizing too late that I sounded like an idiot. But he didn’t act like he thought that. He considered my statement, and it seemed to grow more appealing each second. “Freedom, huh?”

  “Yeah,” I offered. “I could teach you. You help me with the interview, I show you which pedal’s the gas.”

  He arched an eyebrow. “I know which one’s the gas, thank you.”

  Royce pushed off the desk, rising to his full height. Even though I wore heels, he was still two inches taller than I was, and as he closed the distance between us, my eyes grew large. He was dangerous like this. Confident and powerful while in his own domain, all of Boston at his feet.

  His voice was smooth like the glossy lacquer on his desktop. “All right. Sounds like a deal to me.”

  I’d expected a handshake, but instead he brushed his knuckles across my cheekbone and lowered in, sealing our deal with a slow, lingering kiss.

  Chapter Ten

  Alice was able to cover a lot more ground at our next meeting, which was good. She had a work trip to the Chicago branch next week and would be out of the office until Wednesday. Coordinating the schedules of the eight current board members was no small feat, and the only workable date was Thursday.

  Which meant I’d have to clear hurdle number one and face the board in less than a week.

&nb
sp; I’d learned about almost all of the men who sat in the coveted positions—all but Macalister himself. I wasn’t sure if Alice was saving him for last, or not going to cover him at all. She was cagey whenever I asked for details about the interview. It was clear she wanted me to do well when I sat for it, but she also wouldn’t give me a clue about what kind of questions they’d ask.

  That made it nearly impossible to prepare.

  Friday morning, while I was stuck in Alice’s office learning that Mr. Powell raced sailboats and competed in regattas, my mother and Emily went to the doctor and confirmed she was pregnant. Apparently, the relationship between her and her professor had ended as quickly as it had started, and once she told him he was the father, he calmly offered her five thousand dollars to take care of it and not tell his wife.

  I loved my sister, but—Jesus. She had the worst taste in men.

  I was still incredibly hurt that she’d kept so much from me. She’d tried to talk to me, but I’d used my meetings with Alice as an excuse to avoid her. I just needed more time to get over it. Emily was fragile right now, and I didn’t want to say anything that would upset her.

  On Saturday, I arrived at the Hale estate after lunchtime. I’d spent the morning making my way through my family’s finances. The head in the sand approach wasn’t working. I told them I’d rather face it head-on, no matter how bad it was. I’d go into it with eyes wide open.

  Royce saw my Porsche pull up in the circle drive and came out to meet me. He wore shorts and a t-shirt, looking much more his age than when I’d seen him at the office two days ago. I’d snapped the picture of him that day for myself, but Alice posted it to my account. She’d tagged him in it and used a million hashtags, and as a result, I had a hundred new followers.

  All of Cape Hill knew we were dating. They believed the lie that Royce Hale was into me.

  Although, as he made his way down the stone steps and opened the passenger door of my SUV, he flashed a genuine smile, and I wanted to believe the lie too. Just for today, I told myself.

  It was a manufactured whirlwind romance, so why did I struggled to find the deception?

  “Hi,” he said as he climbed into the passenger seat. “You look nice.”

  Perplexed, I glanced down at my basic top and pair of jeans. I’d put on makeup, but nothing special. I simply looked like me. “Hey. Thanks.”

  He buckled his seatbelt. “Where are we going?”

  “The old mall that closed down. They have a big, empty parking lot you can practice in.”

  He nodded his approval, and then we were off.

  Royce was quiet for the first few minutes. An angsty love song crooned from my car speakers and I thought about changing it, but he didn’t seem to mind. He stared out the window and watched Cape Hill speed by.

  “Where did you leave it with Alice?” he asked finally.

  “She’s told me about almost everyone on the board, so I think I’m in good shape? I don’t know. It’s weird. Sometimes it feels like she’s purposefully keeping me in the dark.”

  He didn’t turn to look at me, so I couldn’t see his expression, but he kept his voice even. “Maybe she’s trying to protect you.”

  Well, that was cryptic. “Protect me from what?”

  “I don’t know. I’m not on the board yet. It’s not official until my initiation is done.” His words died off at the end. This was something he wasn’t supposed to say, or I wasn’t supposed to know.

  “Initiation?” I struggled not to roll my eyes. “Is there a secret handshake and decoder rings too?” I wanted to study him closer, but I needed to keep my attention on the road.

  He’d probably been aiming for a casual tone, but it came out forced. “Forget I said anything.”

  “Okay.” The silence between us dragged, and I felt compelled to fill it. “So, the only person she hasn’t talked about is your father.”

  The mood in the car plummeted further. “What do you want to know?”

  I shrugged. “Anything, I guess. I’m going to be honest—he scares the hell out of me.”

  Royce was quiet.

  The tension got to me. “So, do you like Alice?”

  “I do.” He sounded sincere.

  “How’d she get together with your dad? I mean, he’s her boss.”

  He relaxed on a breath. “She’s like him in a lot of ways. When she wants something, there’s no stopping her. That woman is relentless. For example, you say he scares you? Lots of people are terrified of him, but not Alice. She’d been working at the company a week when she walked into my father’s office and told him he needed to get rid of his brand manager. She asked him to fire her boss and showed him all the reasons why.” Royce fiddled with an air vent before continuing. “That took guts. He respects her.”

  Macalister’s marriage wasn’t about love but finding a partner he respected. They made it work. Did he assume the same would happen for his son and me?

  The conversation lulled for a moment before Royce added, “When they first got married, they used to fuck like rabbits.”

  What? Was he trying to deflect?

  “Lovely,” I gritted out. Macalister was handsome and powerful, but I couldn’t imagine wanting to sleep with him.

  “It drove Vance and me nuts, but it kept him occupied and off our backs.”

  I hesitated. “He always seemed pretty involved in your lives.”

  “Ever since my mom died, yeah.”

  The Hale estate used to have working stables because Elizabeth Hale loved horses. She’d been riding one when it spooked and threw her off. She hadn’t been wearing a helmet, and when she fell, her head slammed into a stump.

  She hadn’t died right away. It’d been three agonizing days for the Hale family as she deteriorated in the hospital before she was gone. I’d been six when it happened and barely remembered her, but she’d been nice and pretty, and Macalister hadn’t seemed so scary back then.

  Maybe when she died, all he felt he had left were his sons and his legacy.

  * * *

  After several laps in the parking lot, Royce said he felt confident enough to try driving on some back roads. I agreed. He’d been surprisingly easy to teach. I would have thought he’d shrug off my instructions, not just because he was older and a man, but because he’d acted most of his life like he was better than everyone else.

  My assumptions about him were wrong. He really had been acting, putting on fake bravado so he wouldn’t appear weak in his father’s eyes. Today he listened thoughtfully and took directions, and had no problem asking questions. There didn’t seem to be any worry that he might look stupid or make mistakes and I would judge him.

  Behind the vacant department store on one end of the mall, the parking lot let out into a neighborhood, and beyond that, away from civilization. The heavily wooded sections of the curvy road were broken up occasionally by farmland, but otherwise the trees, flush with the first leaves of summer, closed in around us.

  “I see what you mean,” he said abruptly. “It’s nice.”

  He subtly relaxed his grip on the steering wheel but kept his hands at ten-and-two. We weren’t going very fast as he navigated the curves and gently slalomed through the forest. I smiled. “I thought you’d like it.”

  He took his gaze off the road for a second, and when he turned his head to look at me and smile, his hands followed, moving slightly to the right.

  The road was narrow. A single strip of white paint outlined the edge of the pavement, and there wasn’t a shoulder. Only some gravel and grassy weeds. The car drifted just enough to edge off the pavement, crunching rocks and earth noisily under the tires.

  “Shit!” Royce’s focus snapped back to the road and he jerked the wheel.

  But he overcompensated, and we swerved into the oncoming lane. No one was coming—the road had been empty the whole time we’d been on it—but we were at the base of a steep hill and couldn’t see what lay ahead. He yanked the steering wheel back the other direction, once again with too mu
ch aggression, and the tires dipped off the road a second time.

  I punched the nonexistent brake in the passenger seat with my foot, wanting to slow us down, and Royce must have had the same thought. Only in his panic, he pushed the wrong pedal and the car lurched forward.

  The engine screamed as he slammed his foot on the accelerator.

  My hands flew out, bracing myself in my seat. “Brake!”

  He twisted the wheel wildly as we bounced further off the road, the nose of the car pointed straight for a line of trees that looked like they’d been there a hundred years. Tires churned on the uneven ground, and we swung wildly back toward the road.

  “Brake!” I yelled again. We shot across the pavement in a blink and were on the other side of the road, barreling toward a deep ditch. Oh, God. I shut my eyes and held my breath, preparing for impact.

  But abruptly, the car turned. It rumbled to a shuddering stop like it was on a hook being pulled the opposite direction.

  He’d finally found the brake.

  I heard the gearshift move as he put the car into park. It was silent except for the music wafting from the stereo, which was slow and smooth in stark contrast to the pulse hammering in my body.

  Air burst from my lungs as I opened my eyes. We were sitting on a grassy bank beside the creek, facing the opposite way we’d been driving and on the other side of the road. My Porsche seemed to have survived unscathed, we were all right, and to anyone who passed by, it would probably appear like we’d intentionally pulled off the road to park here.

  Royce didn’t look at me. He turned the engine off, pushed open his door, and climbed out. Was he running away? Where the fuck was he going? My seatbelt was made of concrete and weighed me down. I couldn’t move. I sat dumbfounded as he disappeared behind the back of the SUV.

  A shadow fell across me and then my door was tugged open, bringing in cool air and the scent of the woods. I lifted my gaze to stare up at him. He had one hand on the door frame and the other on the roof, trapping me in. His face was streaked with worry. “Are you all right?”

  I blinked. “I’m fine. Are you?”