“Hey,” Nico answered. There was laughter and even music in the background, but it didn’t sound like he was at a club. Someone’s house?
“Hey,” Evan replied. “I’m home. Where are you?”
“Marguerite’s place.” Someone said something to Nico Evan couldn’t quite hear. “Got to go. See you later.” He hung up.
Evan stared at the phone in his hand. Nico was at Marguerite’s apartment? At eight o’clock on a Friday night?
What the hell was going on? And why was there music?
Not that he was jealous of his baby brother. But were they having a party? Without him? They both knew he was returning tonight.
This was why he’d made the right decision all those years ago. He should be spending his Friday night out with business associates, wining and dining, building his networks of contacts, working ever closer to his goal of creating a multinational empire. Medevco was the closest he had come so far to starting something that might actually still be a major corporate player in people’s lives twenty years from now. And while much of its product success was due to Luke and his technical genius, Evan had brought in the investors who provided the money to keep the company growing. He’d partnered with Grayson Monk and his venture capital firm. He charmed the banks. He made the rounds of Wall Street firms. He was going to bring Angus Horne on board for their biggest round of financing yet, thus solving several of their growing pains.
That’s what he was good at. That’s how he provided value for the people in his life.
Evan grabbed a beer out of the refrigerator, slammed the door shut and headed for the back door and the mile walk to the carriage house. He could drive, but the thought of being behind the wheel again so soon made his spine ache. Besides, he could use the exercise. And the cool night air.
By the time his destination was in sight, he had worked up a sweat and finished the beer, which provided him with a thin layer of calm. Until he got close enough and saw a sheriff’s car pull away from the converted stables that held garages for various winery vehicles, with Marguerite’s apartment above.
He broke into a run, somehow not tripping on the cobblestones that made up the courtyard entrance. The ground floor front door was unlocked, and he took the stairs two at a time to the residential quarters on the second floor, bursting into Marguerite’s living room and almost falling on his face at his abrupt stop. He windmilled his arms to keep his balance.
Three heads swiveled as if one to gape at him.
“Why was? The sheriff here?” he gasped between gulps of needed oxygen. “Again?” His vision recovered enough to take in the sight before him. Marguerite was standing in the middle of the room, her arms akimbo as if striking a pose. A young Black woman about Nico’s age sat on the sofa. Nico lounged in an armchair opposite, while the empty chair next to him held what looked like a pile of dresses. The low coffee table held three wineglasses and a mostly empty wine bottle as well as bowls of popcorn and potato chips. Music softly played in the background.
He had interrupted some sort of gathering.
Marguerite recovered her aplomb first and lowered her arms. “Hello, Evan. Welcome to my home. As for your questions, the sheriff was in the neighborhood and stopped by to take Nico’s and Gabi’s statements,” she said as if that explained everything. She frowned and plucked the empty beer can from his nerveless grasp, holding it up. “Seriously?”
“What? Why? Who?” His lungs still felt as though a brush fire had been kindled inside them.
“Nico and Gabi.” Marguerite indicated the young woman next to her. “Evan, this is Gabi Watkins, Nico’s friend. She’s a college intern at Dellavina Cellars. Gabi, this is Nico’s brother, Evan. The new owner of St. Isadore.” Gabi waved hello as Marguerite continued, “They were out for a bike ride this afternoon, and men in a car harassed them. The sheriff has a description and license plate number and said he would keep an eye out.”
“Wait. Slow down.” He got his breathing under control. “One thing at a time. Bike ride?” He turned to Nico. “You were supposed to shadow the accountants while I was in the city.”
Nico’s lower lip jutted out. “That’s what you took away from what Marguerite said? I didn’t do as you told me?”
“I said one thing at a time. That was the first thing.” Evan ran a hand through his hair. Why was it so hard to hold a simple conversation with his brother? He never had this problem talking to his staff.
“Maybe ‘Are you okay?’ should be the first thing. Or ‘Sorry that happened to you.’” The darkness clouding Nico’s expression was turning into a full-blown storm. “No, the first thing should have been ‘Hi, Gabi, nice to meet you.’” He got out of his chair and extended his right hand to Gabi. “Come on, let’s go.”
“Nico—” Evan sputtered.
“Nico.” Marguerite’s soft tone seemed to cause Nico to visibly relax. “Evan just got here. Give him some time to catch up. Gabi, why don’t you see if a friend is available to pick you up?” She pointed at Evan. “You. Come with me, please.”
“You know I’m the boss, right?” Evan grumbled, but he followed her.
Marguerite led him to a small balcony off the dining room. After sliding the glass door shut behind them, she turned to him with a magnificent scowl on her face. “Of course, I know you’re the boss. Until now. I quit.”
“Good. So, as the boss—” His ears caught up with her words. “Wait. You what?”
* * *
“You’ll probably fire me anyway. I’m just saving you the trouble.” Marguerite took a deep breath, willing her voice not to tremble. She was taking a huge risk. He might indeed demand she leave St. Isadore. But she had spent the last two hours getting to know Nico better and he deserved a champion. Which meant inserting herself into the brothers’ private lives. “We agreed that after we signed the agreement our relationship would be professional only. But this is about your personal life.”
He narrowed his gaze. “I doubt I’d fire you for voicing your opinion, personal or not. Go for it.”
“You must stop treating Nico like a child. Or like someone you pay.” She folded her arms across her chest, the better to hide her still quaking fingers, and gave him her best glare. “You’re his brother, not his boss.”
She expected his anger to flare or perhaps his disdain. Instead, his eyebrows rose as his gaze swept over her. “I’m familiar with casual Friday, but this is the first I’ve heard of formal Friday. St. Isadore tradition?”
What was he—? “If this is an attempt to deflect the conservation away from you and Nico—”
He waved a hand at her outfit. “You look great, by the way.”
She glanced down and her cheeks filled with heat. “Right. Sorry. I was trying to take Nico’s and Gabi’s minds off what happened. Aracely dropped off some dresses for me to try on for the event, so we were playing fashion show.” She smoothed her hands over the full skirt of the 1950s-era emerald green cocktail dress she wore. “You should see Gabi in this Pucci minidress that used to belong to Aracely’s grandmother.”
He ran his gaze over her one more time, slow and deliberate. “I like what I’m seeing now. Since we’re being personal.”
Her cheeks were hot enough to start a brushfire. “We’re talking about you, not me.”
He cleared this throat. “Go ahead. You called me out here to yell at me.”
“Not yell. I just don’t understand why you and Nico constantly go from zero to being at each other’s throats in five-point-six seconds.” She tried to search his gaze, but he evaded her attempts.
“I wasn’t at his throat. I asked him a reasonable question.” He leaned against the sliding glass door. The lamp glow from inside threw his muscled physique into silhouette.
“They were scared today. Badly. You didn’t even ask how they were.”
“You all seemed perfectly relaxed when I came in.”
“After I distracted them and got their minds off what happened! You need to pay more attention to him.”
He straightened up. “I do pay attention. Why do you think he’s here? Why do you think I bought St. Isadore?”
“Honestly? I have no idea.”
“It’s for him. He flunked out of college and needs an occupation. That’s why we’re here. For Nico to learn a business. Get his hands dirty. You say I’m not his employer. But I am.”
“Wait. You bought St. Isadore for Nico? As a...toy?” Her voice rose on the last word. All of her hard work. Her family’s history. But to Evan, St. Isadore was nothing but a plaything?
“No, not as a toy—”
“You run a tech company. Why not find a job for him there? You think you can throw anyone into running St. Isadore?”
“I threw you into running St. Isadore.”
She scoffed. “That’s different.”
“How?”
“Because I...” She stopped, worrying her lower lip with her teeth. Earlier, she’d wondered if she was the right person to oversee St. Isadore. But she’d raised her hand for the job. Evan barely acknowledged Nico’s presence. She doubted if he had even asked Nico if this was what he wanted. She tilted her chin high and met his gaze. “Because I know what it entails. I have experience.”
“Exactly. And so will Nico if he would wake up.” He made a sweeping motion with his hand, indicating the bulky shadow of the winery in the near distance. “How many kids his age are given such an opportunity? He’s squandering it.”
“He took one afternoon off to spend time with a woman he likes.”
“And then one afternoon turns into a week. Then a month. Before Nico knows it, the year will go by and he’ll have nothing to show for it.”
“He might have a relationship to show for it.”
Evan laughed, a deep belly guffaw. “Right. That’s supposed to make up for wasting the chance to learn how to run a company from the ground up. What’s he going to do when she goes back to school? You said she was an intern, right?”
“Yes, but you’re missing the point—”
“She’ll go back to her classes and friends. Nico will be nothing but a brief memory. And he’ll have no education. No school no school of hard knocks.”
“You don’t know that—”
“You think I need to pay attention to Nico? I am paying. Attention and money. Lots of money. This place sucks up resources like a tornado. But I’m willing to throw cash at it so Nico has a future. A future that wouldn’t be his if I didn’t care so much.” He gave Marguerite a firm nod.
She regarded him for a beat. “Can I speak now?”
“What more needs to be said?”
“Do you genuinely think Nico should be, what was it, stuck inside all day with accountants—?”
“Shadowing accountants. So he can learn. Man, I wish I had done that when I started out. If you can’t read a spreadsheet or understand a financial report, you are—”
She cleared her throat, cutting him off. “I thought there was nothing left to be said.”
He held both his hands up in a gesture of apology. “Sorry. You were saying.”
“Is this what you did when you were Nico’s age? Spent your time indoors pouring over numbers instead of going out? Falling in love?”
He grinned. “I fell many times. Several times a night. I’m all for Nico enjoying himself as much as he wants.”
Good thing she gave him her verbal notice and could consider herself officially unemployed. This was definitely not terrain she should be exploring with her boss. No matter how interested she was in his side of the conversation. “I’m not talking about sex. I’m talking about love.”
“There’s not a lot of difference between the two at the age of twenty-one.”
“Of course there is! Nico and Gabi are exhibit A.”
Evan scoffed. “This is the first I’ve heard Gabi’s name. Sure, Nico might be infatuated. She’s very attractive. But love? They just met. He’s too young to know if it’s love.”
Marguerite stopped herself from rolling her eyes. “And what is the age for knowing your own heart, O wise one? Twenty-five? Thirty-two? Fifty-seven?”
“You know I’m right. You don’t want to admit it.”
“Have you ever been in love?” This time she caught his gaze. His eyes were dark and unreadable in the dim light. The longer their gazes held, the faster her pulse sped up. He wouldn’t break the connection, and she couldn’t.
He looked away first, to her satisfaction. Or her disappointment. It was hard to tell with her heart threatening to jump out of her chest. “Hasn’t everyone? After one breakup, I even grew a beard and bought out an entire liquor store of its whiskey.”
“I’m sorry. That sounds like it was painful.”
“Then I shaved and threw a party. My friends drank what was left in the liquor cabinet, and that was that.” He shifted his position to lean on the railing next to her. “What about you? When were you old enough to know if you were in love or only in love with the, let’s say, physical feeling?”
The night breeze carried his scent to her. Still the hint of basil and lemongrass but with a deeper, richer base note she was coming to think of as “Evan.” She inhaled deeply before she knew what she was doing. “I think...you’re born knowing. But it takes the right person to switch it on, no matter how old you are.”
“And have you been switched on?” he rumbled.
The night breeze had subsided, leaving the world still and hushed. Stars glowed high overhead in a moonless, dark indigo sky, leaving the light spilling from the sliding glass door as the only source of illumination. She was keenly aware that Evan was less than an arm’s length away, so close she could reach out and hold his hand.
Draw him to her.
She shook her head to clear it. “I’m not the subject here. Look, I don’t know the history between you and Nico. And maybe it’s the age difference that makes you two butt heads every time I see you together. But even as his employer, you can’t stick him in an office and walk away and not expect him to be resentful. You especially can’t fault him for spending time with Gabi. He has genuine feelings for her.”
The moment—if there had even been one—dissipated. He leaned away from her. “I know where those feelings originate, and it’s not his heart. It’s another organ. That’s fine, as long they both consent and take necessary health precautions. But spending time with her when he should be working isn’t going to pay his bills. He needs to learn that. And he’s damn lucky he has me to give him that opportunity.”
The wind blew Marguerite’s hair into her face, and she pushed it back with an impatient movement. “Okay. Fine. You’re his brother.”
“Yes, I am.” He threw her a side-eyed glance. “But. You’re not wrong. We do butt heads whenever we’re together. Tonight is the most relaxed I’ve seen him since he came out to California.”
“I spent the last two hours talking with him and Gabi.” She reached over to touch Evan’s hand but chickened out and drew back at the last second. “You should try it.”
“I didn’t mean to leave him here by himself for so long, but—” He shrugged. “Things at Medevco seem to be in constant crisis. We grew very fast. Now we need to secure another round of money so we can continue to expand, or we need to make cuts. And we’re not making cuts.” His tone was final. But she didn’t miss the almost imperceptible flash of concern in his eyes. Perhaps he was capable of deeper caring, after all.
“Nico knows how important your company is to you. He does. But while he’s here in Napa and you’re there in San Francisco, have you thought about having him work in hospitality or retail instead of accounting? The gift shop, for example. He likes people and he’s knowledgeable about wine. He’d need a refresher course on St. Isadore’s offerings, but then he’d be ready t
o give people recommendations.”
Evan shook his head. “I’ve got a better idea. Nico reports to you.”
“Me? You forgot. I quit.”
“Your contract requires a written letter of resignation with fourteen days of notice. Until I accept it, you’re still employed.” He smiled.
She laughed. “I guess we’re back to being professional colleagues.”
His little finger brushed hers. Accidentally, she was sure. Her heart skipped a beat nonetheless. “I like to think this conversation took place between friends,” he said.
“Friends?” Her laughter faded. “I don’t know. Work and relationships, even when it’s friendship, don’t mix well in my experience—”
He nodded. “Right. Our contract talk. I remember.” The deep rumble of his voice, accompanied by the devilish glint in his gaze, told her exactly what he remembered. Her knees turned to water. Thankfully, her fingers were locked in a death grip on the balcony railing. “Outside work. During work, I need to pretend I know what I’m doing when it comes to St. Isadore. For the sake of my poor, deluded ego.”
She laughed to buy herself time and give her legs a chance to recover their strength. “See, this is why I would never claim to be able to read you. You say things like that out of the blue.”
“So, what do you say? Friends?”
She shouldn’t say yes. Being friends with Casper had led to letting her guard down, only to be sucker-punched when he took credit for her ideas and used them to secure a more prestigious position, bad-mouthing her in the process. She thought Linus had cared for her as a family member instead of just a disposable employee, and it had nearly broken her when she discovered how wrong she had been.
But being friends with Evan had its appeal. Especially if it meant she could help him with his relationship with Nico. And she had to admit she liked spending time with Evan. She wouldn’t mind getting to know him better.
Who's the Boss Now? Page 6