A Breath of Jasmine (The Merriams Book 6)

by Ava Miles

  “Did you see the report about the first person outside of mainland China dying from this virus?” she said without preamble.

  “In the Philippines,” he responded. “Aunt Clara, Uncle Arthur, and I discussed it over breakfast. We all agree the news continues to be alarming.” His aunt had freaked out a touch, and his uncle had needed to put his arm around her. He’d never seen fear in her eyes before, and it had shaken him.

  “Closing factories in China will continue to have an effect on oil prices.”

  Was there worry in her eyes too? She looked nowhere near as alarmed as Aunt Clara, thank God. He couldn’t handle that. “I know that, but it’s short-term. They’ll get this virus under wraps and things will go back to normal.”

  “I hope so. Now, what do you need?”

  I missed you. “I see files out on your chaise.” He gestured to them. “You said you take Sundays off.”

  “We take Sundays off.”

  “Your brain needs to rest, and so does mine.”

  Layoff plans were up next, and he was already dreading it. They hadn’t finalized which divisions he’d be merging, but they were close. Of course, they still had to figure out how to keep the skincare line. He knew she was working on it and trusted that.

  “My brain is planning to rest shortly, don’t you worry.” She brushed her black hair back over her shoulder, and he fought the urge to thread his fingers through it.

  “I have a better idea. Come to Ferrari-Carano with me today for a private wine tasting. Alice and Hargreaves are off on their own adventure. Why shouldn’t we have one?”

  “That is not the agreement.” Her regal stare had him giving her his best glower.

  “Oh, come on. You love wine, and before you make any decisions about us, we should spend time together outside of work. We’ve already established we work well together.” So much so he didn’t want to contemplate their time coming to an end.

  “You have been on your best behavior,” she agreed, “and it hasn’t gone unnoticed. Even at evening meals you remain incredibly amiable around the chaperones.”

  Like he’d had a choice, but if he had to “suffer” them, at least they were entertaining. Aunt Clara had announced she was in charge of after-work cocktails, and she presided over the time like a grand dame of Paris. Uncle Arthur grumbled about everything from the news to the smell of Indian food in the house. Much to his umbrage, Hargreaves and Alice had made it for lunch twice this week in addition to dinner that first evening. The dynamic duo continued to be a surprise, prepping food elbow to elbow in the kitchen and laughing while they sampled one of the new cocktails they’d concocted.

  “Then coming with me today seems safe, right?” He leaned against the doorway. “I promise I won’t touch you unless you ask me.”

  Her mouth quirked. “No need to worry about that quite yet.”

  How many times had they looked at each other this week? Too many to count, and both of them, he knew, had been thinking about that kiss in the kitchen—and a hell of a lot more. Whenever they linked arms for their walk, he could feel a frisson of tension go through her from that simple contact. Still, she’d made her boundaries clear. She had to come to him.

  “But you’re thinking about it. Admit it.”

  “I admit nothing—yet—but I am enjoying your company.” Her smile was as sudden and welcome as the sun on a foggy day. “It’s been good to see you again.”

  While the words were guarded, he considered it the highest praise. “I feel the same way. So come with me.”

  He took her hands spontaneously like he’d done in days past. She didn’t fight him. “You’ll love this place. It’s very European. I want you to see how great this area is.” Because he hoped they might live here together. He wanted to show her she could be comfortable in the Bay Area. Happy.

  “Wine tasting in the country sounds lovely,” she said, squeezing his hands briefly with a smile. “On one condition.”

  His mouth went dry at her capitulation. He could already envision himself seated across from her as the wine tasting commenced, his eyes on her lush lips. “Name it.”

  “Invite Clara and Arthur. Maybe even J.T. and your parents.”

  He grimaced. “Not that. Come on, Francesca. You know you can be alone with me. It’s a public place.” Of course, he’d arranged for a private tasting for them.

  “Still… That’s the only way I’ll agree. Take it or leave it.”

  She was fighting a smile. Yeah, she knew he’d do anything for her, and she was enjoying it.

  “Fine. You win. I’ll go ask Uncle Arthur and Aunt Clara, but I draw the line at a full family outing.”

  He’d never have a chance to get her alone. With the older couple, he could persuade them to go to the gift shop or something while he took her on a stroll on the spacious grounds of the vineyard. The weather was cool, but the sun was out.

  “Let me know when it’s time to leave.” She already was closing the door on him, amusing herself plenty.

  “See you in a bit, sweetheart,” he said with a naughty wink.

  When the door closed, he could have sworn he heard her laugh. Good. It would be easier to win her over if she was in a good mood.

  Heading downstairs, he found his aunt and uncle sitting on the couch. She was knitting another sweater, this time in a rich purple, while he scowled at his tablet.

  “You two up for a wine tasting today? I talked Francesca into coming.”

  Uncle Arthur let out a laugh. “But she insisted we join you, eh? She’s warming up to you, but you have a ways to go yet. I told Clara you’d better make a move today with Alice out of the house. She’s a dear girl, but she’s always underfoot when you start stalking Francesca at cocktail hour.”

  He gave his own scowl. “I don’t stalk her.” Moving behind her while she looked out the large windows at the ocean wasn’t stalking. He simply wanted to be close to her.

  “You do a little, Quinn, dear, but it’s understandable.” Aunt Clara set aside her knitting. “When is this tasting?”

  He’d arranged it for two and would have to call the winery to add two more guests momentarily. “Ferrari-Carano is over an hour from Stinson Beach. We could leave at one if that suits you.” God, when had he become so accommodating?

  “That suits us fine, dear. This one keeps mumbling at the news.”

  “It’s depressing, Clara. Everything is going to hell in a handbasket. The more I read, the more I come around to your opinion about this virus, and I don’t like it one bit.”

  “I don’t know if it helps, Uncle, but when I talked to Trevor, he likened it to the way Ebola spreads quickly but never really moves beyond a small area, mostly in central Africa.”

  “It doesn’t make me feel better. It’s still killing people and wreaking damage right and left.”

  Aunt Clara patted his arm and kissed his cheek. “We know, dear. I’ve never been much for praying, but I’m finding it as much of a comfort as my knitting these days.”

  God, they all needed to get out of the house. He was done with all the doom and gloom. He had a woman to romance.

  “I’ll see you both in an hour.”

  Taking the stairs again, he strolled to Francesca’s door and knocked. She opened it faster this time.

  “We’re leaving at one,” he said. “No need to change. You look absolutely beautiful.”

  “Thank you, but I’ll change if I decide to.” She gave him one of her regal regards, although he thought he detected an edge of playfulness. “See you at one.”

  Feeling like a caged tiger, he retreated to his office and decided to call Connor, something he’d been putting off.

  “Hey,” his brother answered. “You’re calling to tell me that you’re reversing my decision on new offshore drilling, right? It’s the right move, Quinn.”

  When had his brother become so magnanimous? Right. Since he’d turned his life around. “It was hard to do.”

  “I imagine it was, but you’re in charge. You have
to make the best decisions to steer Merriam Enterprises back on track. I expect Francesca is repositioning everything around oil despite all the industry worries over this virus in China. That’s a good call too. I’m sorry I left things in such a state. I’m still working on forgiving myself for that.”

  Forgiving himself? Man, it choked him up to hear that. Connor had already been through enough suffering and grief. “You just be happy. Keep doing good things out there. We’ve got this.”

  “You say ‘we.’ How is it going on the personal front with Francesca? Unless that’s too personal.”

  “She’s still deciding. The chaperones are never far away.”

  “That matchmaker trio has had a better streak than most professional athletic teams. Trust in them.”

  Oddly, he did, which was why he hadn’t balked too much about including them in the wine tasting. “Will do. You guys good?”

  “We’re terrific. I feel like a different man. Louisa’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and I’m so glad she feels the same way about me. She says hi, by the way. Can’t wait to see you at the wedding. You planning on asking Francesca? Mom, Dad, and J.T. said they loved her. I know the rest of us will too.”

  The family telephone game was alive and well. No shock there. He expected Aunt Clara was sharing updates about him and Francesca in her weekly check-ins with his siblings. But none of his brothers or sisters had texted or called him about it. None of them had wished him good luck. It had been so different with Flynn. Clearly, his siblings felt more reserved with him, and hell, it was his own fault. Maybe it was time to turn that around as well.

  Silence hung on the line, and he remembered his brother had asked him a question. “I’m giving her a little more time before I ask,” he said.

  She could turn him down, after all.

  No, he wouldn’t think like that. He had to convince her to give him a second chance before the consultancy was over.

  “I know you’ll figure it out. All right, Louisa and I need to run. Her dad and brother are having us over for a bite. See you, bro.”

  “See you, man.”

  When he hung up, he took a moment to feel relief. Then he called J.T., thinking it would be good to connect with him. They’d been getting closer since he’d agreed to help out at Merriam. The call went to voicemail after a few rings, and moments after he set his phone down, he heard it ring again and picked it up.

  “Sorry, Caroline’s here and we were… You get the picture. What’s up?”

  He started laughing. “I apologize for interrupting. You go back to what you were doing.”

  His brother laughed too, and laughing together felt surprisingly good, even if it was only over the phone. “When Caroline got here, Mom told us we could stay in our room the entire time if we wanted, and then she laughed until tears ran down her face. Dad did too. It was weird, but kinda great. Anyway, why are you calling? You’ve been good about staying on radio silence. Any reason for the break?”

  Shit. What could he say? I thought I’d reach out to you and try to have a personal conversation, but it turns out I don’t know how. “Not really. Only wanted to thank you again for helping out.”

  “Oh, shit. You’re welcome. Your executive assistant’s efficiency continues to boggle my mind. Marian’s awesome, Quinn. I couldn’t do without her.”

  “I’ll give her a raise.”

  “And a bonus,” his brother added. “How are the plans taking shape? The oil market is rocky right now, but that’s only because this whole virus thing is weirding people out.”

  He didn’t want to talk about it again. “We’re mostly on track. I just told Connor I’m reversing his decision on new offshore drilling.”

  “How did he take that?” J.T. asked.

  “Good, actually. He expected it. Told me it was the right move.”

  “It is.”

  “I’m glad you agree. Layoffs are coming up, which sucks, but we’re going to keep it as minimal as possible.”

  He hadn’t told Francesca yet, but he planned to forgo a salary until they turned things around as a way of keeping more staff. Would others in his family be willing to do the same? Maybe he needed to ask them after he had a better sense about the numbers. They all had plenty of money to live on, and preserving as many of their employees as possible was the right thing to do.

  “I feel for you there. You’ll figure out the best way to handle it. Everyone trusts you.”

  Again, emotion lodged in his throat. “Thanks, man. That means a lot. Now, go back to your woman.”

  “She says hi, by the way. Hopes to see you on one of her other visits before the wedding. We could pop over for dinner with the family or you could come here. I know you’re busy—”

  “Not that busy,” he interrupted. “We’ll arrange something for next weekend. I’ll put Aunt Clara on it.”

  “She’s a marvel. Says everything is on track over there. Loves Alice, and I totally agree. She’s terrific.”

  Alice Bailey was continuing to impress the hell out of Quinn too. She’d conversed with Hargreaves in French while they made beef bourguignon the other night and then monologued about how she thought Star Wars was the best movie of all time, quoting the movie like a total geek and making everyone laugh at her Darth Vadar impression. Uncle Arthur had said she excelled in heavy breathing.

  “Glad Aunt Clara thinks we’re on track. Look, you need to go and so do I. Holler if you need anything.”

  “So far, it’s been relatively easy if a little tense. People know your absence means an overhaul. Our employees aren’t stupid.”

  Indeed. “No, they aren’t. I’ll see you soon, bro.”

  Then he thought about Francesca again, asking him to invite J.T. And it struck him that he might have been looking at things wrong. Maybe it would be nice if J.T. and Caroline came. They could all make an afternoon of it.

  “Ah… You wouldn’t want to go for a wine tasting this afternoon, would you?”

  “I can go if you need me to, of course. Business related?”

  Hadn’t his brother just said he wanted to spend the weekend closed up in a bedroom with Caroline? Why would he want to forsake a day of nonstop sex for a triple date? “Forget it. Have fun with your wife. I’ll be in touch.”

  “Wait! Were you suggesting we hang? Quinn, I swear I need a decoder ring or something to figure you out.”

  Embarrassment raced up his neck. “We can hang next weekend. I’m going now.”

  “First Connor and now you. The poets are so right about love. It makes a man—”

  He clicked off the phone, sat back, and gave in to laughter. Hadn’t he read Rumi to Francesca?

  His phone signaled a text from J.T., and he laughed when he read: Love you too, man. Can’t wait to hang.

  A trio of hearts followed the words. He shook his head, but a smile lingered on his face after the laughter faded. He missed this, joking around with his brothers and sisters. He’d pulled away from them, away from the world even. But J.T.’s quick and high-spirited agreement to cover for him had changed things. So had his talk with Connor at Flynn and Annie’s wedding.

  He thought about texting his other siblings, but if he piled it on too thick, they’d think he was cracking up after too much restructuring. He turned on his laptop and checked his email instead, although he was aware of how open his chest felt. J.T. was right. Love had changed him once, and it was happening again. Part of him worried what that might mean, but Connor had changed for love, and he sounded happier than ever. On some level, Quinn wanted that for himself.

  When one o’clock rolled around, he strolled into the family room. Francesca was having a cup of tea with his aunt.

  “Quinn, dear, are you ready to go? Francesca and I were just talking about Kenya. She’s been on safari numerous times. I told her she should come and meet the Maasai tribe we work with.”

  He raised his brow at Francesca. “I’m trying to picture you roughing it.”

  “I can show you the pic
tures,” she said in a playful tone. “Shall we go? Clara thought you might drive us all in the limo since Hargreaves isn’t here.”

  “Not on your life. We’re taking my Land Rover.”

  “Oh, you’re such a fuddy-duddy like Arthur,” Aunt Clara said, making an unladylike sound. “He’s off in the bedroom after I sent him there for excessive news mumbling. I’ll tell him we’re ready.”

  His aunt patted his arm sweetly as she walked past him. Then he swept his gaze up and down Francesca. “I like your wine-tasting outfit.” He let his gaze run over her silk dress in a shade of purple so dark it was almost midnight.

  She held out her hands. “I felt like changing. You look happy. Were you talking to your family?”

  He jerked back. “How did you guess?”

  “You used to call them on Sunday afternoons when we were together.” Her eyes narrowed. “Don’t you remember? I’d hear you laughing in the other room, and sometimes, I’d even… Never mind.”

  Actually, he didn’t remember any of this. “What?”

  She looked away, and her beautiful profile stopped his heart.

  “I’d curl up on your lap and listen to you talk to them.” Her mouth curved. “I loved seeing you like that. Back then, I couldn’t wait to meet them. Now that I have, I understand so much more about you.”

  The newness of his desire to reconnect with his family was gaining momentum in him, so he asked, “What do you understand?”

  She made a face before saying, “Why you were so funny and at ease with yourself. Why you were so kind and generous to the people we met out in the world, everyone from doormen to bartenders. Why you seemed so grounded.”

  “You used to say those were the things that made you fall more in love with me,” he said softly. “The little things that filled your heart.”

  The line of her throat moved. “You remember that, do you?”

  He stepped in front of her and reached for her hand, which clasped his briefly. “I told you I remember everything.”

  “Except talking to your family, it seems.” She studied him. “Has that changed?”

  Part of him didn’t want to tell her that some of the things she’d loved about him had fallen away. The other part knew he could keep no secrets from her. He didn’t want any distance between them. “I kind of opted out, you might say. Living in London, away from family, made it hard to stay close.”