Mr. Strictly Business

by Day Leclaire

  “Fine. Are you willing to discuss it here and now?”

  Good question. She’d planned this as a romantic evening rather than a business meeting. But with two high-powered careers, finding a balance was paramount. “Let’s discuss work over wine and then see if we can’t move on from there.”

  He gave a brisk nod. “Agreed.”

  She almost laughed at the mannerism. It was so Gabe Piretti, master negotiator. “Okay, here goes. Have you had a chance to look at my accounts?”

  “I have.”

  He seemed troubled, so she gave him a gentle bump. “Did you find something wrong? Dina is always so meticulous, I can’t believe she made a mistake.”

  “No, everything looks in order. It’s just…” He hesitated. “You remember I told you that Natalie’s deduction about a competitor being responsible for your problems felt wrong?” At her nod, he continued. “Your books appear in order. But they feel wrong to me. Off, somehow.”

  “Have you spoken to your mother about it?”

  He shook his head. “Not yet. I need time to go through them a little more thoroughly first. I’ve been a bit distracted because of this upcoming buyout, so I haven’t been able to give it my full attention.” The wine arrived, was poured and tested, then accepted. “When’s your next event? I want to make sure I schedule it in my PDA.”

  She played with the stem of her glass. “Two days. It’s a small one. Under normal circumstances I wouldn’t have taken the contract, but with all the problems I’ve been having, I didn’t dare turn them down.”

  “Smart.”

  “After that there’s a charity function later in the week. And Dina tells me that some of the people who called after the Marconi party wanting to cancel have changed their minds. It’s clear that word is getting out, though I suspect some of the turnaround is thanks to your mother’s way with people.” She shifted closer to Gabe. “You’re like that, too.”

  He draped his arm around her, and she rested her head on his shoulder. “Dad wasn’t. He tended to be gruffer. No nonsense.”

  She toyed with her wineglass. “I’ve seen that side of you, too, particularly when it comes to business.”

  “It runs down the Piretti line.” A slow smile built across his face and a distant look crept into his gaze. “It’ll be interesting to see which of our sons and daughters carry on that tradition. Or maybe they’ll be more like you. More passionate. Determined to take on the world.”

  “Oh, Gabe,” she whispered.

  He stiffened. “Damn. Damn it to hell.” He gave a quick shake of his head. “I’m sorry, Catherine. That wasn’t deliberate, it just popped out. I wasn’t thinking.”

  “Don’t. Don’t apologize.” She eased from his hold. “Don’t you see, Gabe? It’s part of who you are. Part of what you come from. You’re a Piretti. Your family has been in this part of the country since the first settler felled the first log. You told me yourself that Piretti’s was originally a sawmill.”

  “Times change,” he said with a hint of imperiousness. “Now Piretti’s is what I say it is.”

  “Your empire was built on a foundation of those who came before you,” she argued. “You may have changed the scope and context of your family’s business, but it’s still a family concern.”

  “It’s my concern,” he corrected. “Where it goes from this point forward is wherever I choose to steer it.”

  “And in another thirty years?” she pressed. “In another forty? Who steers it then, Gabe?”

  “In another thirty or forty years I’ll have an answer for you,” he replied with impressive calm. “Or maybe I’ll follow Jack LaRue’s example and sell out. Retire and live large.”

  “I can’t believe you could simply let it all go after working so hard to build it up.”

  “Watch me.”

  She didn’t believe him. “I know you, Gabe. You still want children. That little slip tells me that much. And it doesn’t take a genius to see what course of action you’ve set. You think you’ll be able to change my mind.”

  “Cards on the table, Cate?”

  She snatched up her wineglass. “Oh, please.”

  “I do want children. Either you’ll change your mind about that, or you won’t. But understand this…” He paused, his face falling into uncompromising lines. “If it comes down to a choice between you and children, I choose you. Is that course of action clear enough for you?”

  He didn’t give her time to say anything more. He took her wineglass from her hand and returned it to the table. And then he pulled her into his arms and kissed her. Kissed her in a way that had every other thought fleeing from her head. Kissed her with a thoroughness she couldn’t mistake for anything but total, undiluted passion. Kissed her until her entire world was this man and this moment.

  “No more excuses,” he growled, when they came up for air. He bit at her lip and then soothed it with his tongue. “No more barriers. I may have forced you to move in with me, forced you into this devil’s contract, but you accepted the terms and by God, you’ll honor them. I won’t have you walking away from me because of some trumped-up excuse.”

  She fought for breath. “It’s not an excuse.”

  He swore. “Anything and everything you use to shove a wedge between us is an excuse, and I’m not having any more of it. Try me, Catherine. Keep trying me. Because I swear to you, I will wipe each and every obstacle out of existence before I’ll ever let you go again. I made the mistake of letting you run last time. This time I will follow you to the ends of the earth. I will follow you to hell and back, if that’s what it takes.”

  She buried her head against his shoulder. “You’re wrong, Gabe. You just don’t know it yet. Next time, you won’t just let me go. You’ll throw me out.”

  Gabe couldn’t help but notice that the tenor of their relationship changed after that. There’d always been barriers between them, but now they were so high and clear that he found himself stumbling over them at every turn. Despite that, two things gave him hope.

  For one, Catherine continued with their impromptu dates, constantly surprising him with tickets to a play or dinners out or a picnic in their bedroom. Some occasions were brief, barely an hour, slipped into a narrow window in their schedules. Others were longer, partial days where they’d escape from work and spend endless hours enjoying each other’s company. It made him realize that they could change. They could work around two diverse and demanding schedules.

  The other thing that gave him hope was the nights they shared. For some reason, when they slid into bed and then into each other, all their differences, all their conflicts, faded from existence. There they joined and melded. There they found a true meeting of mind and body and spirit.

  Later that week, he surprised her by showing up at one of her events, a charity fund-raiser for pediatric cancer patients. He’d expected to find her in her usual position, quietly in the background directing and coordinating the smooth progress of the affair. Instead, he found her sprawled on the floor, reading to a crowd of children from a Mrs. Pennywinkle picture book.

  Tendrils of her hair had escaped its orderly knot and a succession of curls danced around her forehead and cheeks and at the vulnerable nape of her neck. Her eyes as she read were golden warm and sweetened with a soft generosity. There weren’t any barriers here. Here he found her at her most open and natural. He’d seen her like this other times, almost invariably around children, and he shook his head in amusement. How could she claim to never want a child of her own when he could almost taste her longing, and could see the sheer joy she experienced light up the room?

  She must have sensed him on some level because her head jerked up, like a doe sensing danger. Her gaze shot unerringly to his and for a brief second she shared that same openness with him that she’d shared with the children. And then the barriers slammed into place. He stood for a long moment, staring at her. It just about killed him that she felt the need to protect herself from him, and a fierce determination filled him.
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  Somehow, someway, he’d break through those defenses. He’d win back her trust, and this time he’d do everything in his power to keep it. He approached, keeping his demeanor open and casual. Leaning down, he gave her a light, easy kiss, one that elicited giggles from their audience.

  Catherine handed the book over to one of her assistants and excused herself. Not that the children let her go without a fight. She was swamped with hugs before they reluctantly allowed her to leave.

  He helped her up, drawing her close long enough to murmur in her ear, “Have I told you recently how beautiful you are?”

  Vivid roses bloomed in her cheeks. “Don’t exaggerate, Gabe.”

  He tilted his head to one side. “You don’t believe me, do you?” The idea intrigued him.

  “I’m attractive. Interesting looking, perhaps.” She stepped back. “But I’m not beautiful.”

  “You are to me,” he stated simply.

  To his amusement she changed the subject. “I didn’t expect to see you here. You never mentioned that you might attend.”

  “I’ve been on the board of this particular charity for a number of years, but I wasn’t sure I could get away.” He cut her off before she could ask the question hovering on her lips. “And no, I had nothing to do with hiring you. That’s handled by a subcommittee. I did discover, however, that you’ve waived your usual fee and donated your services.”

  She shrugged. “It’s for a good cause.”

  “Thank you.” He could see her slipping back into professional mode and didn’t want to distract her. “I’ll let you get on with your duties. One quick question. What’s your calendar for tomorrow look like?”

  “I thought I might need a day off after the fund-raiser, so I kept it clear.”

  That suited him perfectly. After a few days of allowing Catherine to take the lead with their romantic outings, Gabe was intent on trying his hand at it. “Keep it that way, if you would.”

  She brightened. “You want me to plan something? Or shall we wing it?”

  “I’ll take care of everything. You just show up.”

  He gave her another swift kiss and then left her to focus on her event, though periodically through the afternoon he caught her glancing his way with a speculative look. Since they’d started in with the dates, he’d discovered that she preferred to keep their outings moving, no doubt so they wouldn’t have another incident like the one at Milano’s.

  Come tomorrow, he intended to change all that.

  All Gabe told Catherine in advance was to wear a swimsuit underneath her shorts and cotton tee and prepare for a day in the sun. When he pulled into Sunset Marina the next morning, she turned to him, her eyes glowing with pleasure.

  “We’re going for a cruise?”

  “I thought we’d take a ride through the Chittenden locks and onto Lake Washington. Or we can wander around the Sound, if you prefer.”

  “It’s been ages since I’ve gone through the locks. Let’s do that.”

  The day became magical. In those precious hours, Gabe didn’t care about the secrets that divided them, or the past or the future. The now occupied his full attention. It turned into one of those rare Seattle days where the Olympics stood out in sharp relief to the west and the Cascades held up their end to the east, with Mt. Rainier dominating the skyline in between. But as far as he was concerned the best view was the pint-sized woman who lazed across his foredeck. A hot golden sun blazed overhead, causing Catherine to strip down to her swimsuit, while a warm summer breeze stirred her hair into delightful disarray.

  Eventually, she joined him on the bridge, handing him a soft drink and curling up in the seat next to him. She examined her surroundings with unmistakable pleasure. “I gather this is one of the custom-designed yachts your company manufactures.”

  “One of the smaller ones, yes.” He shot her a swift grin. “It’s not a Piretti engine…at least, not yet. I’m hoping to pin Jack LaRue down soon. Then maybe I’ll have time to dig into your bookkeeping records and give them the attention they deserve.”

  She shrugged. “I’ll leave that to you. It’s definitely not my area of expertise, although it sure is Dina’s.”

  “Mom has a talent for it,” he agreed.

  “I guess that’s why it surprised me that she didn’t catch on to…What was the name of that guy who proposed to her a few months after your dad died?” She snapped her fingers. “Stanley something, wasn’t it?”

  The question hit like a body blow. “Are you talking about Stanley Chinsky?”

  She hesitated, reacting to his tone. “Um. Did he head Piretti’s accounting department at some point?”

  “Yes. He was also a board member.” Outrage filled him. “That bastard had the nerve to propose to Mom?”

  Catherine made a production of sliding her can into one of the drink holders, her gaze flitting away from his. “I gather she never mentioned it.”

  “No, she didn’t.”

  Catherine released a gusty sigh. “I’m sorry, Gabe. I didn’t realize or I’d never have said anything. She told me about it that night we had our heart-to-heart.”

  “Did she also tell you that Stanley attempted to rob her blind during his tenure as our accountant?”

  “Actually, she did. I think she blamed herself to some extent,” Catherine offered. “She thought her refusal of his proposal may have provoked his retaliation.”

  “The hell it did. He started stealing from us the minute my father died. If he proposed to her, it was only in the hopes of covering up his little scheme.”

  Catherine offered a tentative smile. “Dina did say it was a pretty clever one.”

  “It was. It took me forever to figure out—” He broke off. “Son of a bitch. Son of a bitch. Why the hell didn’t I see it?”

  “See what?”

  He turned on her. “This is your fault, you know. If I hadn’t been so distracted by you, I’d have seen it right off.”

  “Damn it, Gabe. Seen what?”

  “What my mother’s been up to.” He turned the boat in a wide arc and goosed the throttle. “The reason you’re going bankrupt is that my dear mother has been skimming the accounts.”

  Nine

  I t took several hours for Gabe and Catherine to work their way back from Lake Washington to Shilshole Bay and safely dock the boat at the marina. They arrived on Dina’s doorstep just as dusk settled over the city. She opened the door with a wide smile, one that faded the instant she got a good look at their expressions.

  She stepped back to allow them in. “I’m busted, aren’t I?”

  “Oh, yeah,” Gabe confirmed. “Seriously busted.”

  Her chin shot up. “Actually, I expected this confrontation quite a bit sooner. I’m a little disappointed in you, Gabriel.”

  “And you’d have gotten this confrontation sooner if I hadn’t been so distracted by Catherine.”

  Dina nodded. “I have to admit, I was counting on that.”

  They stood in the foyer, the three of them as awkward and uncomfortable as strangers. Gabe thrust a hand through his hair. “What the hell is going on, Mom? How could you do such a thing to Catherine? She trusted you, and you betrayed that trust.”

  In response, Catherine eased her hand over the tensed muscles of his arm. “There’s a good reason, Gabe. There has to be.”

  Dina smiled her approval. “Why don’t I make a pot of coffee while we chat?”

  “Chat.” Gabe stared at her in disbelief. “This isn’t some sort of afternoon social. Coffee’s not going to fix this. This is serious. This is jail-time serious.”

  An expression not unlike Gabe’s settled over her face, one of ruthless determination. “If you want your questions answered, then we’ll do it over coffee. Because I’m not saying another word, otherwise.”

  He turned to Catherine. “I’m sorry about this. I swear I had no idea.”

  She simply shook her head. “Let’s hear her out.”

  Dina linked her arm through Catherine’s and drew he
r toward the kitchen. “Don’t worry,” she whispered. “It’s not as bad as it seems.”

  “No, it’s worse,” Gabe broke in, clearly overhearing. “You and Stanley can have adjoining cells.”

  “Catherine isn’t going to turn me over to the authorities,” Dina replied with calm certainty. “Not after I explain.”

  “This better be one hell of a good explanation.”

  Dina made short work of the coffee. The entire time, she chatted about anything and everything except the reason they were there. Pouring coffee into mugs, she carried them to the table. “You both have had some sun today,” she commented, spooning sugar into her cup. “It’s nice to see that you’re spending so much time together and working things out between you.”

  “Mom.” Just that one word. Quiet. Fighting for patience. But with an underlying demand she couldn’t mistake.

  She gave her teaspoon an irritable tap against the porcelain edge of the mug and released her breath in a sigh. “All right, fine. Ask your questions.”

  Gabe reached for Catherine’s hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “You skimmed money out of the Elegant Events accounts.” He didn’t phrase it as a question.

  “Yes, I did.” Dina leaned back in her chair and took a sip of coffee. “I’m sorry, Catherine, but you made it quite easy. I highly recommend you take a few accounting courses so no one else takes advantage of you in the future.”

  Catherine lifted an eyebrow and to Gabe’s disbelief, he caught a hint of amusement at his mother’s outrageous suggestion. Though what she could find amusing about any of this he had no idea. “Why, thank you for your advice, Dina. I’ll get right on that,” she murmured.

  Gabe stepped in again. “You used the Chinsky method, I assume.”

  “Oh, yes. Stanley was an excellent teacher. I just followed his example and did to Catherine precisely what he’d done to me.” She shrugged. “And then I waited.”

  This time, he reached for his mother’s hand. “Are you hurting for money? Has something happened that you’ve been afraid to tell me? Whatever it is, I’ll do everything in my power to help. You know that, don’t you?”