Rules of Negotiation

by Inara Scott

  It had occurred to both of them that Tori needed a new outfit for the game, so Brit stopped at a boutique not far from his apartment on their way out of Manhattan. Tori found a pair of black capri pants, strappy sandals, and a wildly overpriced T-shirt and convinced the clerk to let her wear them out of the changing room. She considered buying a hat as well, but since she’d already dropped enough on the shirt and pants to pay her mortgage for a few months, she decided to skip it, and dug an elastic out of her purse instead.

  The way her heart was beating as they approached the stands, you would think she was back in high school. Except this time she wasn’t nervous about talking to her crush, she was wondering how the hell she had ended up at a Little League game meeting his family.

  “Uncle Brit!”

  A small pack of children emerged from the bleachers as soon as Tori and Brit came into sight. Brit, looking painfully attractive in low-slung khakis and a dark gray polo shirt, broke into a wide smile.

  “Hey, you rugrats!” he called out.

  A small, black-haired girl reached them first, running as fast as she could on short, sturdy legs. Her face was tight with concentration, and she looked behind her several times, as if to make sure she was out in front. When she saw that her target was within reach, she squealed and threw herself forward in a flying leap. Brit scooped her up neatly right before she hit the ground, then flipped her upside down and tickled her belly before setting her gently into the grass. That was all the time necessary for the older kids to arrive. There was a tall, skinny boy in a baseball jersey, a younger boy wearing a pair of blue mesh basketball shorts, and a girl with chestnut pigtails, wearing matching pink shirt and shorts.

  They all started talking at once, the smallest one, Delia, tugging on Brit’s arm, the older ones trying to get his attention by speaking louder and louder. Tori recognized Ross, the brother she had met that first night at Alessandro’s, as he waved from the stands.

  She hung back, hoping to avoid making too much contact with the children. She loved kids, but this felt wrong. She was nobody, a woman whose relationship with Uncle Brit couldn’t be—shouldn’t be—explained. Worse yet was the thought that she’d have to look Brit’s siblings in the eye. Would they be pitying? Embarrassed for her? Judgmental? They were real, adult people, and they were going to spoil her perfect fantasy world where she could have an affair with a fantastic guy, create no emotional baggage, and go home the next day and never think about him again.

  “Hey, kids, this is Tori.” Brit motioned for her to come closer. She did, reluctantly, and gave a tiny wave. They barely looked at her before resuming the chorus for Brit’s attention.

  Brit threw Delia back over his shoulder and began moving the party toward the bleachers. He admired the butterflies on Julia’s shorts, gave Matt a high-five for getting the most rebounds in his basketball game the night before, and asked Luke if he was reading anything new.

  They beamed at him, and began shouting answers in reply. All at once. Tori kept to the side and tried to make herself invisible.

  It didn’t work.

  Ross jumped down from the metal bleachers and met Tori halfway. “As I live and breathe, it’s Tori Anderson, right? From Alessandro’s?” His considerable biceps strained the edges of an old T-shirt, and his grin could have melted an ice cube in thirty seconds flat.

  Tori cringed at the amused look in his eyes. At least he wasn’t looking at her as if she were a hooker. “That’s me. It’s Ross, right? Your kids are great.”

  “My kids are loud, ill-mannered, and completely in love with my brother.” He shook his head at the sight of Brit, who was now casually flinging the shrieking Delia into the air, while still managing to carry on a conversation with Luke. “Brit mentioned he’d be bringing a friend to the game, but he didn’t say it was you. It’s nice to see you again.”

  A moment later, another man and a woman started toward them. The man was tall, with dark brown hair that slid over his forehead and wire-rimmed glasses in a messy wave. His clothing was nearly as disheveled, with a hopelessly wrinkled madras plaid shirt tucked haphazardly into a pair of faded canvas pants. Tori liked him immediately.

  The woman, who Tori assumed was Melissa, had piercing blue eyes like her brother, and a thin, heart-shaped face with prominent cheekbones. A limp ponytail trailed down her back. She was too angular to be beautiful, though Tori could see she could have been striking had she not been quite so thin, or so clearly uninterested in her appearance.

  Brit’s words from the morning came back to her in a rush. No wonder he was so worried about her. Melissa looked like she was wasting away. It was heartbreaking, and Tori had only known her for a few minutes.

  Brit suddenly appeared by Tori’s side, the children still clinging to him like cheerful, screaming barnacles. “Joe, Melissa, this is a friend of mine—Tori Anderson. Tori, this is my brother Joe and sister, Melissa, and you remember Ross, from the restaurant.”

  Joe, whom Tori had already pegged as “the nice one” of the family, brushed his hair from his eyes and gave her a firm handshake. “Nice to meet you, Tori. You should know right away that Delia’s a dangerous little cuss. Don’t let her youth or innocence fool you.”

  The object of his announcement peered down from atop Brit’s shoulders. “Daddy, what’s dangerous mean?”

  “You,” Joe said, tickling her feet. She giggled appreciatively, and hugged the top of Brit’s head tighter.

  Tori laughed and nodded. “Thanks for the warning.”

  Melissa’s gaze swept from Tori’s toes to the top of her frizzy head. Her expression remained impassive, but Tori had the feeling everything about her had been analyzed and memorized in one penetrating look. “Nice to meet you. Are you new to the city?”

  “No, I’m visiting,” she said. “I live in Philly.”

  Ross smiled. “I met her a couple of weeks ago. At Alessandro’s.”

  Melissa raised an eyebrow at Ross, who started to say something else before Brit cut him off abruptly. “Ross, Joe, why don’t we take the kids and throw the ball around before the game starts?”

  Matt and Julia cheered, while Luke looked marginally interested. Ross turned to Brit with a hurt look. “But I was getting acquainted with your friend Tori.”

  Her face already warm from the humidity and growing embarrassment, Tori waved her hand at him. “Please, don’t worry about me. I was thinking about finding a spot in the shade until the game starts.”

  “Sounds like a good idea,” Melissa agreed, though her face showed nary a flush. “I’ll go with you.”

  Reluctantly, Ross nodded. He walked over to Brit and punched him in the arm as they walked toward the center of the field. Joe followed a few steps behind.

  “Sometimes they’re such…men,” Melissa said, making no attempt to hide her bitterness.

  “What’s the old saying? Can’t live with ’em, can’t shoot ’em?” Tori said.

  They began walking toward a large maple tree, its wide, spreading branches casting a pool of shadow over the edge of the ball field. Melissa stopped and raised an eyebrow. “You sure about that?”

  Tori grimaced. Melissa’s words dripped with sarcasm, but underlying it was an obvious, aching pain. Tori could understand why Brit wanted to kill the bastard who had cheated on his baby sister. “I suppose if you’re careful enough…” she let her voice trail off suggestively.

  The corner of Melissa’s mouth twitched in the beginning of a smile. “Don’t let Brit hear you say that.”

  “Oh, he’d understand,” Tori said, waving a negligent hand.

  “So, how did you get mixed up with my brother, anyway?” Melissa asked, the smile disappearing as she stared out at the kids.

  Tori paused, unsure what she was supposed to say. Brit had introduced her as a friend, which was not entirely true, but where was she supposed to go from there?

  She recalled the way Brit had introduced her to Ross at Alessandro’s, and decided to follow his lead. “We worked on a deal to
gether.”

  “Really? I don’t think Brit’s ever met a…friend…that way.” Melissa chose her words carefully.

  Tori laced and unlaced her fingers. “You must follow your brother’s friendships quite closely,” she said, trying to keep her voice light. “To know that sort of detail, I mean.”

  Brit and his brothers had formed a rough triangle, with the kids in between. Every now and again, Ross or Joe would look curiously over at Tori, and she gritted her teeth. Brit remained focused on the children. He had the same look that he had when they were in Central Park: relaxed, comfortable, as much in control with a group of kids as he was in the boardroom.

  “I’m sorry,” Melissa said, “I don’t mean to sound like a prude, but it’s unusual for Brit to introduce us to someone. You must be very close?”

  Tori crossed her arms over her chest. “We’re not dating, if that’s what you’re asking. He didn’t bring me here to meet the family. I probably got in the way and he was being polite.” She smiled to try to make it sound playful, but knew she hadn’t entirely disguised her frustration.

  Why the hell am I here?

  Melissa’s eyebrows shot up at Tori’s blunt response. She turned to face Tori and started to reply, but then apparently thought better of it, and closed her mouth. They stood for a moment in silence.

  “I see,” she said after a pause.

  “I’m glad someone does,” Tori said.

  There was a brief commotion on the field as Luke got knocked in the shoulder by the ball. Tears ensued, though they dried up quickly as Matt teased him. Ross intervened, sending Matt to stand next to Joe and keeping Luke by his side.

  “So, what do you do?” Melissa finally asked.

  “I’m a lawyer,” Tori replied.

  “Is that right?” Melissa shot her a puzzled look. “A lawyer? Wow.”

  Tori stiffened. “What’s so unusual about that?”

  “Nothing.” Melissa paused, then laughed before she continued, “I’m sorry, I think it’s fabulous, actually. You see, Brit’s taste usually runs toward a different sort of woman. A less, er…professional sort. If you know what I mean.”

  “Oh. Well, I’m also a cover model for Vogue. In my spare time,” Tori added.

  Melissa chuckled. “I don’t mean to laugh, because you’ve got great legs, hon, but you’d need to add about a foot to each.”

  They shared a smile. “You’re probably right. I shouldn’t quit the day job. What about you?” Tori asked.

  “I don’t do anything,” Melissa said, flipping her hair over her back. She stared at the kids in the field, but Tori had a sense she was seeing something else. “I used to work in a robotics lab with my Goddamn-cheating-bastard-ex-boyfriend. Now I sit through endless baseball games and listen to Brit tell me how I should move on and start over.”

  “I’m sorry,” Tori said, struck by the raw pain in Melissa’s voice.

  “Yeah, not as sorry as I am.”

  …

  As soon as this torture was over, Brit Bencher was a dead man. This was not the weekend she signed on for. If she wanted family drama, she could have stayed home and watched her mother slip into dementia.

  She had wanted a weekend of no-drama sex. Apparently, Brit Bencher had something very different in mind.

  Somewhere around the third inning, the pieces had begun to fall into place. Delia started it, when she pretended to do a robot dance for Auntie Melissa. Shortly after that, Joe asked Melissa if she’d made any progress on the job front.

  Then Ross made a joke about Solen Labs, and how he doubted the place actually existed.

  That was when Tori knew that she was being set up.

  Brit was conveniently absent from her side for most of this time. If she didn’t know better, she’d say he was making a concerted effort to leave her with Melissa while he roamed the field with the boys.

  And, of course, now she did know better.

  As the game progressed, Melissa filled in the details for Tori about her breakup with her boyfriend. She’d apparently caught him with his pants around his ankles, with her best friend. They were on the kitchen table. This explained why Melissa was so thin—she couldn’t walk into a kitchen anymore without getting sick.

  It was a horrible story, absolutely dreadful, and Tori couldn’t help but feel sorry for Melissa, who seemed like a sweet person under her misery. She paid close attention to the kids on the field, and they seemed to look to her for approval. Everyone took turns competing to try to make her smile.

  None of that made up for what Brit had tried to do.

  She watched him on the field, a faint sheen of sweat glinting on his forehead, muscles rippling as he demonstrated a practice swing for Luke. He had that serious, patient look that made you want to trust him. Man or woman, no one was immune from that sort of cunning.

  Yes, he was good, but Tori had seen the best in action. Her father, Thad, had been devilishly handsome. Unlike Brit, who worked the dark and sexy angle, Tori’s father had a quick smile and roguish charm that women couldn’t resist. Like her mother, Tori loved him fiercely, though she always doubted he loved her back.

  After he left, she knew the truth.

  Tori hadn’t been surprised when he left. She’d always known she and her mother were too plain, too boring to keep her father’s attention for long. It was her mother who never seemed to recover. Always reserved, Jeanne had simply grown colder over the years, as if she had given up on people completely.

  Tori had never forgotten her father’s lesson. And if Brit Bencher thought he was going to take her for a ride, he had another thing coming.

  Chapter Thirteen

  It was all Brit could do not to jump up and down as he watched Tori and Melissa talk during the rest of the game. He didn’t understand what was going on with Tori—she refused to look him in the eye and kept scooting away from him on the bench. But he told himself that was irrelevant. What mattered was that his plan was working. Tori and Melissa had begun engaging in that mysterious female bonding that a wise man didn’t try to understand. And once they did, there was no way Tori would be able to resist helping get Melissa a job.

  He could barely retain a whoop of triumph.

  Turning his attention to the field, Brit tried to pay attention to his nephew. He cheered at all the right times, gave the kid a thumbs-up sign when he walked off the field, and even went down to the bench along with Ross for a pep talk during the seventh-inning stretch. Yet throughout it all, Tori seemed to linger in the corner of his eye. Like a train wreck you try to ignore, but keep looking at through the rearview, Tori’s bright halo of hair and wickedly intelligent eyes kept calling him. Even when he was talking to Luke, he found himself glancing up at her, watching the way her breasts moved when she wiped the sweat from her brow, or the sparkle in her eyes when she laughed at something Joe said.

  “You’ve got it bad, don’t you?” Ross chuckled over Luke’s head. Like several of the other boys, by the seventh inning Luke was more interested in his drink box and snack than in any coaching. The two men drifted toward the trees and left the boys to their sugar-fest.

  Brit ripped his gaze away from Tori’s sweaty brow, briefly imagining the sheen of sweat that would cover her body later that night. He shook his head and tried to recall what his brother had said. “What’s that?”

  Ross laughed. “Exactly my point. Who is this girl?”

  “A lawyer,” Brit said.

  “Not just any lawyer, apparently. Someone important enough to bring to Alessandro’s, and now to Luke’s game. Why haven’t you said anything about her? Are you two serious?”

  Brit winced. Somehow, in the midst of his planning and scheming, he hadn’t considered what his family would think if he brought Tori to Luke’s game. He was lucky Tori herself hadn’t drawn any similar conclusion. “Good lord, no.” He looked over his shoulder to make sure Melissa hadn’t approached from behind and dropped his voice. “I’m hoping she can help Melissa. Without Melissa knowing.”

&
nbsp; Ross’s eyes widened. “You’re kidding. She’s a…spy? A plant?”

  “No, nothing like that! She happens to be the one person in the world who knows how to contact Garth Solen.”

  “The Garth Solen?” Ross rolled his eyes. “Good grief, didn’t you do enough damage already by sending in Melissa’s resume?”

  Brit paused and scratched his arm. He couldn’t quite meet his brother’s eyes. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Tori knows Solen, Melissa wants to work with Solen. I thought I should get them together.”

  “Without telling Melissa.”

  Brit nodded.

  Ross blinked. “And for clarification—did you ask Tori out before or after you found out about her connection to Solen?”

  “You’re making this sound bad,” Brit grumbled.

  “I’m making this sound bad?” Ross said in disbelief. “You’re leading Tori on, on the off-chance that she and Melissa will hit it off, and somehow she’ll be able to get Melissa a job with Solen?” Ross shook his head. “That’s bad, even for you.”

  “First of all, I don’t need her to get Melissa a job. I need her to give me Solen’s number.”

  “And then you’ll get Melissa a job?”

  “Melissa can get herself a job. I’m going to help break the ice. Besides, I’m not leading Tori on.” Brit scowled. “In case you might have missed it, she’s damned attractive. And she’s not interested in anything serious. We’re on the same wavelength.”

  “Hmm.” Ross studied Brit. “You know, Melissa’s a grown-up now. We all are. There’s no reason for you to keep playing stand-in father.”