by Anna James
“Don’t you think I know that?”
“We wouldn’t be in this mess if you’d—”
“If I what, Dante? Are you really going to blame me when you did everything you could to force me to leave?”
He threw his hands up in the air. “Are we going to argue or try and salvage this mess?”
She shook her head. Arguing wouldn’t solve anything. They had to save this account. No way would she let Mal win. Not after everything he’d put her through. “Has John signed a contract yet?”
“Mal is having it drawn up as we speak.”
“I’m not letting that bastard get away with stealing our client.” Dante was right about one thing. They couldn’t lose the Brown account. His was the second largest portfolio Baker managed; Trey Jackson’s being the biggest. Losing the income Brown’s account generated would place a huge financial burden on the company.
She yanked the phone receiver from the base and punched in John Brown’s number. Relief flooded through her when he answered her call. “Hello, John. It’s Sophia Hamilton.”
“What can I do for you, Sophia?”
“I understand there’s been some trouble with your account since I’ve been away and I wanted to reassure you I’ve returned and will be handling your finances personally from now on.”
“I’m sorry, Sophia. I’ve decided to go with Myer and Kane.”
“John, Baker Investments has handled your finances for years.”
“Indeed, and you’ve done a great job, but, the last few months… To be honest, Sophia, with all the upheaval since your father’s death, I’m not confident the company will be around much longer.”
Sophia’s eyes widened. He thought the company would go under? Did their other clients have the same perception? Dante had said they were leaving because Baker had lost their expertise, but the situation was much worse. “No, John. It’s not true. Baker Investments is as solid as ever.”
“Not from what I’ve seen or heard, besides, the problems started before your father’s death. One of your top advisors took a position with your competitor.”
Sophia gritted her teeth. So, Mal was telling everyone he’d left voluntarily. Scumbag! “If you’re referring to Malcolm Foster, he didn’t leave on his own. He was fired.” The momentary silence following her statement sent a zing of satisfaction buzzing through her.
“Regardless, Allen’s left my portfolio in shambles and I’ve lost thousands.”
Her hands tightened into fists. What a mess. Why hadn’t she seen it before now?
You were too busy sniping at Dante, her brain condemned.
She had to reassure John and the other clients intent on leaving, changes had been made. “I assure you, I’m here to stay and I’ll take personal responsibility for your investments. No one else will touch your account without your approval. Let me prove to you Baker Investments can still provide the service and financial expertise you’re accustomed to.”
“I don’t know, Sophia. I’ve already agreed to the proposal Malcolm Foster made.”
No, no, no! Malcolm would not get her client. She wouldn’t let him win. “I’ve reviewed your portfolio and prepared recommendations to address the losses incurred while your account was under Allen’s management. I’m sure you’ll be pleased with my suggestions. I’m available to meet with you right now if it’s convenient. If not now, I’ll make myself available to meet your schedule.” She held her breath and willed him to agree to the meeting.
“Do I have your personal assurance you’ll manage my account moving forward?”
“You have it, John.”
“I’m not making any promises, but I’ll agree to meet with you before I sign with Myer and Kane.”
The breath whooshed out of her and she smiled. “That’s all I ask. What time are you available?”
“Two o’clock. My office. Don’t keep me waiting.”
“I won’t. Thank you, John. I can promise meeting with me will not be a waste of your time.”
“Well?” Dante said the moment Sophia ended the call.
She glanced up and caught him staring down at her. “He’s agreed to meet with me at two o’clock.”
“Fine. We’ll leave at one-thirty.”
She could insist on handling the meeting on her own, was more than capable of doing as much, but she didn’t want to argue with him, besides, they needed to start working together and show a united front to their clients. “Okay.”
Dante strode out the door without another word.
The next four hours were spent reviewing the McCormick Foundation portfolio and getting up to speed with the investments Malcolm and Allen had chosen.
“Ready to go?”
Dante’s curt voice startled her. Clearly, he was still ticked off. No matter, she wouldn’t let him draw her into another argument. “Yes.” After gathering her things they headed out.
“How long are you going to stay mad at me?” he asked as the elevator doors slid open. He gestured for her to step in.
“I’m not mad.”
He lifted her chin and waited until her eyes met his. She stared into their fathomless blue depths. Lord, he had the most amazing eyes. She loved when they went all smoky and then blazing hot when he wanted her. No. He was her business partner. With monumental effort she broke the contact and took a much needed step back.
He offered an apologetic smile. “Yes, you are, and you have a right to be. I shouldn’t have blamed you.”
“Dante, we’re both to blame for this situation. We’ve been so busy bickering and throwing accusations at each other we’ve alienated our customers and allowed our competitor to swoop in and steal Baker clients away. If we continue down this path we won’t have any customers left.”
“You’re right. We need to start fresh.” He extended his hand and flashed a devastating grin. “I’m Dante Leone and you are?”
His boyish charm disarmed her and she couldn’t help responding to his gesture. Taking his hand in hers, she replied, “Sophia Hamilton.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Sophia. What do you say we join forces and go knock the socks off of John Brown, before he signs with our new arch nemesis?”
Arch nemesis? Did that mean he believed her account of what happened with Malcolm? She hoped so. “John won’t be the last client Mal tries to steal, will he?”
Dante shook his head. “No. I don’t believe so.”
The elevator doors opened on the parking garage level and a faint gas-fume stench filled the air. Her nostrils scrunched up at the offensive odor. “Well, he’s not getting this one. Let’s go. I’m driving.”
Chapter Eight
Dante followed behind Sophia as she strode through the parking garage with determination and purpose. Her cry of anguish caught him off guard. “What’s wrong?”
His hands clenched into tight fists when he saw her standing in front of her car shaking from head to toe.
Sophia turned to him with tears in her eyes. “Who would do this?” She laid a tentative hand on the smashed-in front-end of the shiny, red BMW convertible, and then lifted it to touch the destroyed windshield. A soft moan escaped from her when she caught sight of the word Bitch scrawled across the front hood of the car in shiny black spray paint, the bottom part of the letter “B” missing as if the perpetrator had deliberately omitted it or ran out of paint.
Who indeed? Mal was his first guess and made the most sense. He’d have to be furious at the possibility of losing John’s business. What better way to eliminate the chance of saving this account than to stop Sophia from getting to the meeting? She’d have to report the incident to the police, call a tow truck. Dealing with the situation could detain her for hours.
The bastard had another thing coming if he thought he’d win this battle. As far as Dante was concerned, this was war and he’d be damned if he’d let Mal win. He pu
lled his keys from his pocket and tossed them to her. “Go now or you’ll be late.”
“But—”
“You’re the person John wants to meet with.” He gestured toward her car. “I’ll take care of this. Meet me back here when you’re through.”
“Are you sure?”
He nodded. “Go.”
Dante glanced up when he heard the soft tap on the door and motioned for Sophia to come into the office. He glanced at his watch. She’d been gone almost three hours. That had to be a good sign. “Sit.” He pressed the speaker button so they could both hear the person on the other end of the call. “Do you have any idea when the cameras will be repaired?”
“No, sir,” the security guard replied. “Building maintenance had to order some replacement parts and we’re waiting for them to come in.”
“What about the safety of our employees?”
“Oh, the camera at the outside entrance of the parking garage is still working. We can track everyone who goes in.”
“Then please explain how someone got in and destroyed Ms. Hamilton’s car and you can’t tell me who it is?”
“The person must have gone through the main entrance of the building. We’re checking the records now.”
“Good. I’d like a copy of the footage, too.”
“Yes, sir, Mr. Leone. I’ll have it for you by tomorrow morning.”
He disconnected the call and focused on Sophia.
“So, no luck finding out who demolished my baby?”
He grinned at her use of the term “baby” to describe her car and she smiled back.
“The chances of identifying the person are slim to none. There are three different companies working in this building.”
He nodded. “I still want security to check the records. We may get lucky.”
“I doubt it.”
“Don’t you find it odd yours was the only car damaged?”
“I didn’t really think about it until now. You think someone targeted me?”
Dante nodded. “Given the timing, it’s too much to be a coincidence.”
Her lips tightened. “Malcolm.”
“It’s possible.”
Sophia shot from her chair and then collapsed down into it. A low moan escaped from her white lips. She leaned over and held her head in her hands. “Damn it!” Dante heard her mutter under her breath. He hurried to her side and squatted down beside her. “Are you okay?”
Lifting her head, she gave him an ironic smile. “Yes. I’m just a little light headed. I stood too quickly. It happens sometimes when my blood sugar level drops. I can’t believe that son-of-a-bitch would trash my car. Of all the nerve. I—”
“Forget the car for now, Sophia, and tell me why your blood sugar level would drop.”
Sophia reached in her purse, pulled out a small box of raisins, opened the lid and dumped the contents into her mouth in one shot. After a minute she said, “I’m just hungry. I didn’t eat lunch.”
He reached down, grasped her hands in his and slowly lifted her to her feet. “Come on.”
“Where are we going?”
“To get something to eat and then I’ll take you home.”
“Dante, I’m fine. I’ll grab a cab home and eat there.” She moved with fluid ease to the door.
He cut her off halfway to the exit. “Or we can grab a pizza at the place around the corner, the one that serves the thick crust you prefer,” he shook his head. “Although I can’t, for the life of me, figure out why. Compared to the New York style…” The half-smile tugging at her lips made him grin again. They’d debated this subject many times before.
A memory of the night they’d first met flashed through his mind. He’d been drawn to her by her breathtaking smile and shimmering emerald green eyes the moment he caught a glimpse of her sitting in the front row of the asset management seminar Baker Investments had cosponsored along with other financial companies. Her sparkling laugh had sent the blood coursing through him, igniting a fire deep within.
He hadn’t wanted the evening to end when the workshop finished. They’d ended up at a nearby pizza joint feeding each other pizza and discussing—passionately—the merits of thin versus thick crust pies.
It had been one of the best nights of his life. That was the past; he reminded himself, and shoved the memory down into the deep recesses of his mind. “We’ll eat and you can tell me how the meeting with John went. We also need to discuss the McCormick portfolio. My guess is Mal will go after him next, if he hasn’t already.”
She peered up at him, hesitation in her soft green eyes. “Are you sure?”
“The McCormick Foundation was Mal’s account. He’ll be chomping at the bit to get it back.”
“No, I’m not questioning your assessment of Mal. I agree. He’ll probably go after McCormick next, and we need to be prepared. I meant are you sure about having dinner together?”
He shrugged. “You need to eat and so do I.”
Her hesitation evaporated and she tossed him his set of keys. “Okay. Nice ride, by the way. It handles well in the city. How does it drive on the open road?”
He wiggled his eyebrows. “Like a dream, baby, like a dream.”
She laughed and mumbled something under her breath about men and their toys.
He smiled, placed a hand on her elbow and guided her toward the door. “Let’s go.”
“The meeting went well,” she said after they got into the car and had pulled into traffic. “John was pleased with our revised recommendations to his portfolio.”
“Pleased enough to re-sign with us?”
Sophia reached inside her bag, pulled out a leaf of papers, and waved them in the air. “Already done.”
Dante flicked a brief glance in her direction. “He’s signed?”
She grinned. “I brought the contract with me. I didn’t want to give him time to reconsider Mal’s proposal.”
A horn blared and he refocused his attention on the road. “Good thinking.”
“Have you set up an appointment with Robert Pepperdine yet, or should I go ahead and contact him?”
Dante nodded. “We’re meeting with him the day after tomorrow at three o’clock in the afternoon.”
“Good. What about McCormick?”
“I’ve set up the meeting for the beginning of next week.”
“I’ll have my proposal ready by then.”
He maneuvered the car into a small spot on the street and they walked the short distance to the little bistro. He opened the door and gestured for Sophia to precede him, then followed behind. And froze.
Time rewound six years, or at least it seemed that way to him. The décor in the restaurant matched the one they’d dined at in Manhattan, the first night they’d met, right down to the tacky red-checkered tablecloths. Coming here wasn’t a good idea.
“Dante?”
He blinked. Sophia sat at a small table a few feet away. He strode over with purpose and took the seat opposite her.
The waitress dropped two menus on the table. Sophia picked them up and handed them back to her. “We already know what we want. I’ll have a house salad with balsamic vinaigrette dressing on the side and we’ll share a large deep dish pizza with everything on it, except anchovies.”
Oh hell. She ordered the same meal they’d shared six years ago right down to the exact same toppings on the pie.
Memories of the evening came rushing back. The pleasure he’d experienced when she’d smiled at him. The touch of her skin against his, the sweetness of her kiss as her lips brushed his. It had been the start of what he’d thought would be a promising relationship.
They’d been inseparable for almost four weeks, and then he’d learned the truth.
“We should go.” Sophia slid from the bench seat.
He frowned. “We haven’t gotten our pizza
yet.”
“I went up to the counter and canceled the order.”
She’d gone up to the counter? He’d been lost in his thoughts and completely missed her leaving. “Why?”
She winced. “There’s no point in staying when I can see you regret coming. I’ll grab a cab home.”
Damn it. Had he been that obvious? “Fine, we’ll leave if you don’t want to stay, but I’ll drive you home.”
“It’s not necessary.”
“I said I’ll take you home, and that’s what I intend to do.”
She shrugged her shoulders and turned to leave.
“Sophia.”
She stopped, glared at him then turned on her heel. They were high, thin spikes and he wondered how the hell she managed to stay upright in them, let alone saunter off. But, holy hell, they made her legs look great and her ass… Shit. He hurried after her.
By the time he caught up with her she’d reached the car. He opened her door. She slipped into the passenger seat and sat stiffly, staring straight ahead.
Tonight had been a bad idea all right. He should have left well enough alone, but instead he’d tempted fate. A big mistake.
“Where am I headed?” he asked as he pulled out into traffic.
She frowned. “To my house.”
He sucked in a deep breath. “I don’t know where you live.”
“How can you not? It’s not like you’ve never been to the house before. You were there after the funeral service.”
He flicked a quick glance in her direction. “You live in your father’s home?”
“Yes. Where did you think I lived?”
“I thought you had a place of your own.”
“I sold it last year and moved back in with Dad to help care for him.”
She’d sold her house and moved home to help care for Gil?
They continued on in silence, but her words echoed in his head. She’d sacrificed her independence to help care for her sick father. His mind couldn’t wrap itself around the selfless act. It didn’t seem in character with the Sophia who’d played games with him, who’d thought only of herself and not what others wanted.