by Sara Celi
“Please, stop it.” My brother’s voice sharpened. “Sit down.” He rapped the conference table with his index finger knuckle. “Now.”
“You can’t order me around. And if you think—”
“Ainsley, don’t make me tell you again.” Ashton’s words cut through the air and pinged off the walls. “Have a seat.”
“No.” I stared him down until he shifted his gaze toward one of the tall windows. By then, the tension in my shoulders had taken hold, causing a persistent ache to spread to the base of my skull. “Don’t talk to me like I’m your child, Ashton. I’m your sister, and you better remember that. Family is the only thing that never fades”
A beat passed between us before the color drained from his face. “You’re right. I’m sorry.” He gulped down a deep breath and revised his tone. “Now, will you please sit down?”
“Fine.” With a heave, I followed Ashton’s instructions and plopped down into the chair he’d pulled out for me.
Ashton slipped into a place across from me, and Trevor claimed the chair next to him. Behind them, the skyline of the city stretched out before the Hudson River. It might be winter in New York, but the sun shone across the city. What a fitting backdrop for all of this.
“Okay,” I gritted out after another awkward moment passed. “Why is he here?”
Ashton cleared his throat. “As you know, we’re underwater. The company is sinking, and fast.”
I glanced at Trevor. “Does he really need to hear this?”
“He does.” My brother pursed his thin lips.
“In that case, right about now, I’m regretting the fact that I trusted you to run the company after Dad died. You were always the smart one, though.” I gave him a rueful smile, needing to lash out at him for ganging up on me with Trevor McNamara—of all people. “So confident. So sure that you could handle a company worth half a billion dollars just because you are a Ross.”
Ashton twisted his lips to one side of his mouth. “You’re upset, Ainsley. I get it.”
“I’m upset? I’m upset? I’m more than just upset. I’m furious. I’m livid. You told me this company is in ruins, and that our lives are in shambles. Everything that we have is at risk.” I glanced at Trevor. “And I assume that’s why you’re here, isn’t it?”
Trevor nodded. “Yes.”
“Well, you can leave, because I promise you, you are just wasting your time. This doesn’t concern you. I’m sure you’re just here to pick up whatever scraps you can find, anyway. Isn’t that what you do? That’s the family business? You like to buy companies that are in trouble and then sell off the pieces.” I slapped my hand on the table and gave Trevor my hardest glare. “Just because I live in Palm Beach, that doesn’t mean I’m clueless about how things work in your world. I’ve read plenty about your antics over the last few years.”
I knew how I sounded—like an entitled bitch, but I didn’t care. Trevor needed to depart my father’s offices. Right then. No more hesitation. He should get up from his chair, wipe that smirk off his face, and leave us alone. He was the very last person that I wanted to see in my father’s beloved headquarters. The memory of his family’s rivalry alone was enough to endure.
To say nothing of the last time I’d seen Trevor, at the Whitney Museum two years before.
I shoved that reflection to the back of my mind. I wouldn’t let it fog me up. Besides, what had happened that night had been a mistake. For both of us.
“You’ve been busy,” I added.
“I’m glad you’ve kept up with me,” Trevor replied, as if what I’d just said didn’t bother him at all. Instead, he kept his expression totally unreadable. “It’s flattering.”
“Don’t kid yourself.”
Trevor grinned. “I like this fire inside of you. It’s better than I remembered.”
“I don’t care what you like.” I remained fixated on him, ignoring his handsome features and the way a single lock of his thick hair fell over his brow… just like it had that night. “I care about what you’re going to do. If you think you can buy this company and sell off the pieces…”
“Ainsley, stop.” Ashton held up a hand. “Stop. Please.”
“Fine.” I propped my forearms on either side of my chair and settled further into it. I’d hurled enough insults at Trevor, anyway. “I’m listening.”
“Good.” Ashton motioned to him. “Yes, Trevor has decided to help our company stay afloat. He’s offered to take on Ross Publishing and pay off the outstanding debt in exchange for becoming the controlling partner and de facto owner.”
My eyes widened. Ashton didn’t react to this. Instead, he got up from the table, walked over to the long console desk on the side of the room, picked up a bulky file folder, and came back to the table with it. The thick stack of papers made a hard thud when he plopped it in the center.
“Just a few of the many documents we’ll have to file for this to happen.” My brother sat in his chair again. “Trevor has offered twenty million for the company, as well as a guarantee to pay the outstanding fifty in debt.”
“Twenty million? Twenty million.” The number was so insulting, and so low, that I knew this all had to be a joke. “You’re kidding. Dad always said this company was worth three hundred fifty, even on its worst day. And just before he died, Forbes gave us a five-hundred-million-dollar valuation, remember?”
Ashton shook his head. “Dad was lying. He often overstated things—you know that. He had a knack for acting more important than he was, and when people gave our assets an overstated value, he never bothered to correct them.”
“Ross Publishing is behind, and by quite a bit,” Trevor said. “That can’t be denied.”
I gaped at him. Oh, god, he’s not joking, is he?
“This company failed to understand the meteoric rise of social media and independent publishing. Instead, the business model relied on a few bestselling authors with large social media followings and marquee titles to prop up the crashing sales.” Trevor spread one of his wide, tan hands. “It worked for a while, but that was a long time ago. The name doesn’t go as far as it once did.”
I sniffed. “Plenty of people would beg to differ on that.”
“Oh, really?” He locked his stare with mine. “Is that so?”
“But what about the praise for all our newsletters? Our social media campaigns? The success of our authors? We’ve published all of those bestsellers.”
Ashton shrugged. “Inflated accolades.”
“Much of what has been said in the news about this company over the years has been incorrect. It’s not nearly as solvent as the public thinks,” Trevor said.
“And you have the solution?” I spat out the words and drew my arms closer to my body. Suddenly, the room seemed cold. Very cold.
It might warm up if he’d make his exit.
“Nothing is guaranteed in life, but I’ve made enough good deals to know when I can repair something, or when it’s a worthy investment,” Trevor said. He fixed me with a steely, hard stare “And this is.”
“Well, I’m so glad to hear that.” I coated every word with sarcasm. “I’d hate for the Ross family to be an unworthy investment. Especially for someone like you.”
Trevor chuckled under his breath. “What you really need is someone to wipe out all those millions of debts. You all have no way to pay for that. None. Whether you want to accept it or not, you need me.”
He was right, even though I didn’t want to admit that to him. But when I looked at Ashton, he nodded in agreement.
“This is our best option,” Ashton said in a low voice. “I don’t see any other way out.”
“And after the debts are clear, we can sell off the skyscraper and split what remains.” Trevor scanned the room. “You can walk away with nothing hanging over your heads, and you’ll save the family name.” He rubbed his eyebrows. “That’s not such a bad offer, is it? In fact, I’d say it’s a very generous one.”
Now, Trevor gave me a full smile, one that
showed off whiter and straighter teeth than I remembered. In fact, his jaw was squarer, too…
And yes, in a way, it was an attractive offer. Trevor had a reputation built on a steady diet of company acquisitions, real estate purchases, and rotating dates with Hollywood starlets. He’d graced more than one magazine cover, and two years earlier, International Entrepreneur had called him the most eligible bachelor in American business under the age of forty.
That’s why I couldn’t shake the notion that there had to be something in all of this for him, something more than just the latest business deal. A man who could get anything didn’t do things because he “felt like it.”
“What’s the catch?” I whispered. “You aren’t proposing this out of the goodness of your heart—if you have one. I know that much.”
Trevor leaned forward. “The catch, my dear, is you.”
The way he said this made my stomach lurch. What in the world could that comment mean? The words alone were loaded enough, but his tone backed up the hints that he wanted to play a deeper game.
“Please,” I said, trying to keep the word as even as possible. “Do elaborate.”
Trevor raised one eyebrow. “It’s no secret that I’ve known your family for years.” He shifted his weight in his seat and gave Ashton a puzzled look. “How long has it been? A decade? Two?”
“About that,” Ashton affirmed. “At least.”
“Stop drawing this out.” I pounded my fist on the table. “I’m sick of it.”
“Come on.” Trevor cocked his head. “You mean you don’t want to take a trip down memory lane?”
I winced. No, I did not want to do that.
Don’t let him see how much he rattles you, Ainsley…
“I’d hardly call it memory lane,” I said. “You don’t mean enough to me to be anything I would remember.”
Trevor bit back a smirk, then let a loud laugh escape his lips. “Is that so? It won’t be that way forever, princess.”
I stiffened at the pet name. I didn’t like how it sounded on his lips.
He went on. “This time, I promise you, you are going to remember me.”
The three of us fell silent. We had history between us, and it weighed down the room like a heavy burden on each of our backs. For me, it felt mostly like revulsion. I didn’t have the pleasure of feeling that way about many people, but I did about Trevor McNamara.
“So,” Ashton said, breaking the awkwardness. “Now that we’ve got it all out there, how is everything else going? I was sorry to hear that your Aunt Margo died earlier this year.”
Leave it to my brother to avoid conflict by making small talk.
“Thanks.” Trevor glanced for a moment at the Warhol on the far end of the room. “Cancer is cruel. Breast cancer, especially.” When he looked back at Ashton, and then at me, his expression had resumed its trademark stoniness. “Margo did a lot for me. I owe her everything. I’m sure you can understand why it was a huge loss.”
“We do,” Ashton said.
We? I clenched my jaw. Ashton should speak for himself. I didn’t understand a single thing about Trevor McNamara. Never had. Probably never would. But then I rethought the moment. Even if I didn’t like Trevor, his aunt’s death had been tragic. I relaxed my shoulders a little bit.
“So, that leads us back here. To today. What do you want from me?” I asked. “Besides basically everything?”
Trevor flipped open the large file still lying on the table. “It’s no secret that I have access to anyone and anything that I want. Business has been good for me.” He took a few of the top pages from the file and set them aside. “But I still lack the one thing that I need to make it in this town.” He lifted his gaze and met mine, penetrating me. “And that’s a name. Legitimacy. A place in high society.”
“You’re from Queens.” I swallowed and decided to play the one card I had left. “The outer boroughs. You might have lost the accent when you gained your degree from Harvard, but it’s still there. It surrounds you like a stench. Like bad cologne. No matter what you do, it will never leave you.”
“A big piece of you enjoys this, doesn’t it?”
“Yes.” I kept my steely gaze locked with his. “You’ll never be like us, Trevor. You’ll always be a man from the outer boroughs. All the money you can find won’t change that. In fact, that’s the one piece your father could never play during his competition with my dad.”
Trevor stiffened. “I expected you’d say something like that. You know, you New York blueblood families are all the same. You think you can keep those of us who are up and coming in business out forever. You think you can hold things against us. I’m here to tell you that you can’t.” He folded his arms on the table. “But in this situation, you need me. I’m going to bail you out. Keep you from a lifetime of embarrassment. I’m the one who can help you maintain your position, but I want something in return.”
I quirked an eyebrow.
“Marriage,” Trevor announced with a tone of sadistic satisfaction. “I want you to marry me, Ainsley.”
Be bold. Take risks. Don’t be afraid of unknown outcomes. I lived my whole life like that. But even I had to admit, this might have been the most audacious question I’d ever asked. And one I never expected to ask as part of a business deal.
But life was full of twists. This certainly counted as one.
Ainsley’s eyes bulged, and her mouth dropped open. “Excuse me?”
She asked the question loud enough that I suspected everyone who worked at Ross Publishing heard her. Rather, I should say, who still worked at Ross Publishing. It wasn’t many.
Over the previous few months, Ashton had shrunk the full-time headquarters staff from 150 to less than thirty-five, asking all of them to do more with less. The move hadn’t worked very well and made morale nonexistent. Even I’d felt the drag on enthusiasm when I walked through the halls; this company was full of people who feared they’d be next to lose their jobs. The apprehension served in direct contrast to the company I’d read so much about over the years.
That Ross Publishing was supposed to be one of the best companies to work for in the city.
“You heard me correctly.” I kept my voice calm. I’d suspected Ainsley wouldn’t like this request, so I’d come to the meeting with plenty of documents, justifications, and arguments. “In exchange for taking on this company’s enormous debt, I want to marry you. In the fall, perhaps in November. Here. In New York City.”
At some point during my answer to her question, the color had drained from Ainsley’s face.
“This isn’t the worst idea in the world,” I said. “It’s only marriage.”
A business transaction, not unlike the hundreds I made every week.
“Only marriage? Only marriage?” She turned to her brother. “He’s joking, right? You aren’t seriously asking me to do this. This isn’t an option, so come up with something better.”
Ashton shrugged. “I don’t think we can. This is our best chance to save what our father created.”
The son of my one-time mentor had transformed from an arrogant, entitled snob into a sniveling, spineless caricature of himself. And what a shame. George Ross wouldn’t have liked that at all.
“As you said, I’ll never be fully accepted into New York and Palm Beach high society on my own.” My neck grew warm, and I pulled at the collar of my shirt. “A guy from the wrong zip code can’t get there from here, right?”
“Unspoken rules are the worst ones,” Ainsley replied. “You think you’re playing the same game as everyone else, and you aren’t.”
“There’s a history of bad blood between us. I understand that. I know this is not ideal, but neither is this company’s impending bankruptcy. Everything that your father built will soon collapse.” I gestured at the large windows behind me, and the skyline they framed. “Right now, the rest of the world doesn’t know what kind of trouble George Ross’s beloved company is in, and I’m sure that you don’t want them to find out.”
/> Neither Ashton nor Ainsley replied. I took that as a sign that I might be getting somewhere. I could work with that.
“So, what do you think?” I directed my question at Ainsley, then slid my gaze across her pouting lips and down her slim neck. Damn. I still wanted her. Maybe I always had. I cleared my throat, so she wouldn’t see the kind of response she had triggered in me. “As I said, it’s only a marriage. Nothing more.”
She stared at me for a few breaths, and while she did, I took the opportunity to further notice how much she’d changed since the last time that I saw her, at a charity cocktail party for the Whitney Museum two years before.
Living full-time in Palm Beach had been kind to Ainsley. Her blonde hair was longer, with streaks of platinum highlights, and she’d gained a few pounds to make her hard edges just a little softer. She also had a light spray of freckles across her nose, and her green eyes glittered brighter than I remembered. The passing of time had only made this ice princess hotter.
Not that I could afford to gawk at her beauty. Not this time. I stiffened my posture. She might be gorgeous, but this was business. Strictly business. I didn’t want to mix it with pleasure.
But maybe in the future…
“I appreciate your kind offer,” she said finally, venom coating every word. “But I won’t do it. I won’t marry you, Trevor McNamara, no matter how much leverage you think this situation gives you.”
With that, Ainsley stood from her chair and stormed out of the conference room, unceremoniously ending the meeting. Ashton gaped at her for a nanosecond, then cried out for her to stop. When she didn’t, he raced behind her, out the door, leaving me alone with nothing but my thoughts, the large stack of paperwork, and the bar at the far end of the room.
After a few minutes of thinking about the past, I got up from the conference table and fixed myself a bourbon. Just like my father, George Ross had always loved good liquor, and the selection didn’t disappoint. I poured about two shots worth into a heavy glass, added some ice cubes from the accompanying silver bucket, and walked the bourbon over to the large windows. As I sipped, I studied the city and counted all the buildings I could see that I owned.