Persuading Her: A Modern Persuasion Retelling (Pemberley Estates Book 2)

by Keena Richins

  "Oh, yes, do tell us how to cook like Italians!"

  Rick leaned forward as if he had a great secret to tell. "Well, one trick I learned, and it's a very tricky one, but if you heat up a pot of oil and carefully dump a bag of frozen french fries into it, after a few minutes," he paused for a moment, "you'll get cooked ones."

  The table roared with laughter at his joke and he couldn't help glancing over at Anne, alone with the boys. Her back was to him so he couldn't discern if she enjoyed any of his stories. Not that he cared, of course. She could have been in those stories if she hadn't rejected him for a better life. And what great life did she gain? What would her proud father and godmother say seeing their grand lawyer-to-be practically being a nanny in her brother-in-law's house? How much was she utilizing that fancy college education now?

  Anne abruptly stood up; he immediately focused on his plate, stuffing his mouth with salad. But she only gathered the boys, encouraged them to thank their grandparents for the food, and announced she was taking them outside.

  "That's fine!" Charles called and the rest of the family waved goodbye.

  Swallowing quickly, he leaned over to Louisa. "Does she always eat with the kids?"

  "Oh, yes," Louisa answered, her voice far too loud. "She prefers being with the kids. She's amazing with them."

  He forced a smile even though inside, that old anger burned. Was she really okay being all alone with the kids? He didn't like how the family practically ostracized her, treating her like a hired nanny instead of a relative. But, it wasn't his place to say anything nor was she his concern. Not anymore, at least.

  "But what about Rome?" Mary asked once the kids and Anne had left. "My husband says it's a bunch of old stuff that isn't worth seeing for an anniversary trip." She glared at her husband who focused on drinking deeply from his cup.

  "It IS a bunch of old stuff," Rick said. "But it's older than any of your ancestors' ancestors that have lived on this land. When you walk through Rome, you're not seeing decades go by, but centuries. It's a humbling experience. And the way their water system has survived these thousands of years--"

  "Really?" Charles asked, leaning forward, his drink forgotten. "They still work?"

  "Yes. You can go up to a two-thousand-year-old fountain and take a long sip of fresh, cool water from the mountains miles away. You might even get some new ideas for your invention. My company has a facility in the area, too. I could see about getting you onto a tour."

  "That would be fantastic!"

  "I'm not going on a tour of a boring building on my vacation!" Mary announced, slamming down her fork. "It's a vacation, an anniversary gift, not a job!"

  Rick raised an eyebrow as the tension thickened once again. This must be the main cause of the domestic dispute. The wife wanted to go to Rome for an anniversary but the husband wasn't keen on it.

  "Our facility," Rick ventured, "also has a spa attached to it. You could treat yourself to that while Charles was on the tour?"

  Mary paused. "Well, I guess I could be okay with that."

  Rick raised his glass. "To Rome, then?"

  Charles raised his glass. "Sure, why not?"

  "Why not?" Mary asked in disbelief but Rick, not wanting to endure another one of her tirades, stood up. To think, she could have been his sister-in-law. Maybe he was glad Anne had rejected him after all.

  "Lunch was delicious," Rick announced. "Thank you so much for your hospitality but if you don't mind, I need to take a few more pictures and then be on my way."

  Charles rose to his feet. "Yes, please, take as many pictures as you need."

  Louisa also stood up. "I can help you if you want."

  He paused, not really sure he wanted her tagging along with him. "I think I can manage."

  "Trust me, you'll need me."

  Rick raised an eyebrow. She really didn't take no for an answer. "As you wish, then."

  Chapter 6

  Once again in his car, Rick navigated the bumpy dirt road up the short hill and resisted the urge to check his rearview mirror for a certain someone. Which, of course, would be Louisa. She had practically glued herself to his side the entire time, totally unlike someone else, a someone who he hadn't seen once after lunch. But he didn't care anyway. He shouldn't care. He wouldn't care. And with that firm resolve, he kept his thoughts on the beautiful scenery and how he'd describe the area to his boss, Emma.

  He was rather proud of how well he kept his thoughts under control for the whole hour, except it was ruined when he drove up to HER house. No, his sister's house, he firmly corrected himself. The haughty family had been kicked out of their own home due to financial misplanning, according to Louisa. Rick, on the other hand, had tons of savings. Not as much as Brandon, but enough that he could survive for a year or two if he suddenly lost his job. The thought bolstered him for a moment and he boldly parked his car in the driveway but ended up darting to the front door as though the memories would rise up like ghosts and chase him down. Using the key his sister gave him, he let himself in and hurried to the kitchen.

  "Sophy! He called, eager to get a conversation going to distract himself. Unfortunately, his yell echoed with no reply. Undaunted, he headed for the backyard, yet found no sign of his sibling. He ventured upstairs only to find the same result. As a last resort, he checked the garage and found no rented car in residence. Apparently, they had gone out for the day.

  For some reason, his old anger flared up as memories of empty foster homes and being unwanted flooded his mind. The reactionary response was to leave. If they didn't want him, then he'd be gone. No one could abandon him if he abandoned them first.

  He paced for a moment, trying to cool down. Despite his illogical feelings, he knew deep down that Sophy wasn't like his old foster homes. She cared about him and hadn't abandoned him. She simply had a life and he was acting like a little, angry kid desperate for validation.

  Frustrated with himself, he stormed back into the kitchen and, this time, spotted a note lying conspicuously on the countertop. The note's contents were sparse, detailing they had gone on an errand and would be back soon and to not worry if he arrived before them. The feeling of abandonment left; someone cared enough to leave a note.

  Keeping the note, he pulled out his laptop from his briefcase and plopped onto the comfy couch in the family room, stretched out his long legs and cracked his knuckles in preparing to write a killer email. It took about a half an hour to arrange all the pictures and to craft the right words to present Charles' place as an ideal candidate for his boss. He hoped she'd like it. Not only was the place fantastic, but he liked Charles and wanted him to see success.

  With the important email sent, he focused on catching up on other work. An hour later, he heard the creak of the heavy garage door opening for an oncoming car. Excited to see his family, he closed his laptop and hopped off the couch, heading for the garage but when he opened the door, his sister's peel of laughter filled the garage. They had apparently divested themselves of their rental car and now were the proud owners of a sleek, sporty car. However, Al, with his long legs, was having a difficult time getting his large frame out of the small car and Sophy, instead of being helpful, was laughing so hard, she had to lean against the car for support.

  "Oh ho!" Al cried when he spotted Rick, "give this old mate a hand, will you?"

  "Sure." He extended a hand but before Al grasped it, he winked up at Rick and said, in a lower voice, "Make it look difficult." He gave a nod to his still laughing wife.

  Rick grinned. Al was faking the difficulty. Giving a conspiratorially wink back, Rick grabbed his hand and pretended to pull as hard as he could, both of them groaning dramatically. Sophy doubled over in laughter.

  "You two," she gasped between laughing, "are terrible!"

  Al finally 'popped' out of the small car and clapped a hand on Rick's back. "Thank you, boy. Never would have made it out without you."

  "Guess you'll have to return it, then," Rick joked.

  "Return it? Rick,
do you know what this is? It's a genuine 1950s car, albeit made 50 years later."

  "He's been dreaming," Sophy managed to get out as her laughter calmed down, "of getting one of these since we saw one in Italy. Reminds him of his first car in college."

  "That it did," Al said. "Beautiful car it was back then. Got me a beautiful wife, too!"

  Sophy shook her head. "And so starts the mid-life crisis."

  "Mid-life?" Al balked. "Sophy, I'm still a sprightly young sap!" He then took a look at Rick, obviously twenty years younger, and gave him a playful push. "Stand over there. You're making me feel old."

  Rick laughed but complied. "And what about you, Sophy? What will you get for your mid-life crisis?"

  Sophy grinned. "A bike, I guess. That's all I had while in college."

  "And you were the prettiest woman I ever saw on a bike," Al crooned, walking over to her and giving her a kiss.

  Rick glanced away, envy rising within him. Even worse, Anne and her chocolate eyes floated before his eyes. He squashed the memory. Alas, like a ghost, it flickered into view. He immediately envisioned Louisa instead. Now there was someone who would be loyal and wouldn't change her mind after being pressured by the family. He could trust her with his heart.

  He paused at the thought, stunned. Him and Louisa? She was too young, probably barely in her twenties, when he was twenty-six. Then again, his sister was married to someone more than seventeen years older than her and they were the happiest couple he'd ever seen.

  "So," Al began, an arm around his wife and steering her toward the door, "how was your trip? Did you find a keepsake?"

  The memory of Anne popped into his head. He replaced the image with Louisa. "Not the invention itself, but I might have found something else worthwhile. I sent an email to my boss and now I have to wait for her verdict."

  "Ah," Al said, "Waiting. That the hardest part of any job."

  Rick couldn't agree more. Twenty hours later found him checking his phone for the thousandth time, knowing it was silly to expect a reply so soon, but unable to hope for it anyway. He knew Emma wasn't known to respond to email quickly. Her co-worker, Mr. Knightly, however, was often very much on top of things and was known to respond to emails within minutes. Maybe he should have sent it to him? But, that could have offended Emma since Rick worked directly under her and not Mr. Knightly. No, best to be patient and not act like he was the big boss, demanding unrealistic expectations.

  "One day," the memory of his friend Brandon popped up, "You'll be one of the bosses."

  Rick shook his head and laid back on the couch. He wasn't sure he'd like being a boss. Staying in one spot, working with people that may resent him after a while--that was like being stuck in a foster home all over again. And coming home to the same, empty house, filled with meaningless keepsakes that celebrated a life alone?

  No, that wasn't the life for him. He needed to stay on the move where disapproving people couldn't follow him.

  "What's the frown for?" Sophy asked and he looked up to find her standing over him, a worried look on her face. He immediately put on a smile and help up his phone.

  "Just failing to wait well."

  She laughed. "The movie not helping?" She indicated the nearly finished film playing. He couldn't even remember the title of it.

  "I was never much into watching TV." Especially not in the middle of the day.

  She plopped down beside him. "I think that's genetics."

  "You don't either?"

  She nodded. "I've always needed to be doing something."

  "Huh." He drummed his fingers for a second. "You don't think it was due to being a foster kid?"

  She raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

  He shifted his weight, suddenly uncomfortable. She, technically, was never sent to a foster home. The friend who had always taken care of them during their father's sporadic last years had gladly kept her when their father died. Rick, on the other hand, had been forced on. He didn't want to confess how much that still angered him, that they chose to keep her and not him. True, he and the friend had never gotten along well, but Rick had never imagined he'd be torn from his sister simply because of a dislike.

  However, Sophy stared at him, expecting an answer.

  Rick cleared his throat. "Well, you know, if you weren't useful, they could make you move on." He hoped that was vague enough.

  "Oh." Her gaze dropped to her hands. "I guess that could have been a factor. I always did want to please my foster parents. But, Dad was always fixing things--"

  "He did?"

  "You don't remember?"

  "I only remember him drunk, yelling, and smashing things."

  "Oh, sorry." She had been seven when their mom died, not three like him, and, apparently, remembered happier times. "He wasn't so bad when Mom was alive. I don't remember very well anymore, but I do remember helping him with projects, like fixing the sink or building something in the garage. He built that treehouse in the backyard and the old dollhouse I used to play with."

  Rick fell silent, wishing he had better memories of his parents or at least one memory of his mother. The old anger began to burn so he checked his phone, hoping for a distraction.

  "You're really anxious for that reply from your boss, aren't you?"

  He ducked his head. "Yeah."

  She was silent for a moment. "If your boss likes it, will it require you to leave?"

  He looked up, aware of the half-hidden worry in her voice. "I'll have to get contracts signed, but I can do those in day trips. Don't worry, Sophy, I'll stare here the full week as promised."

  "Even though we bore you a lot?" She winked to imply it was a joke.

  He grinned back. "Well, you two do tend to live in your own world a lot."

  "Yeah, sorry, we've been accused of that before."

  "Really?"

  "Yeah. We were disinvited a few times since we made some people uncomfortable. They said we were "too happy" for them." She chuckled to herself as if amused at the insult.

  He drummed his fingers for a moment, then leaned forward. "What's it like, to be that close to someone?" He'd once had a taste of it, back when he was nineteen, but it hadn't lasted. Not like his sister's marriage.

  She smiled as if she saw heaven before her. "It's like having your shadow as your best friend." She covered his hand with hers and squeezed it. "I would so love to have you find someone like that one day."

  Chocolate eyes sprung up in his mind but he squashed the memory. "Maybe." He checked his phone again, no longer wanting to continue the subject.

  "Is this place really so special to make you this anxious?"

  "Heh, I just really like the place. It's a gorgeous, unique spot lost in the green hills. They don't even have cell service out there but have to trek up a hill for it."

  "What, no cell service? I thought this was America!"

  He laughed. "You should never go west, then. I hear there are lots of spots without service."

  "Try the rest of the world. We learned to never expect service no matter where we went. This place, though, sounds lovely. You make me wish we had gone with you. I'd love to have seen it."

  He drummed his fingers. "Well, what if I went again and took you with me?" He'd love to make his sister happy, even if it risked seeing a certain someone again.

  "Would they mind?"

  The thought of Anne sprung into view. He immediately replaced it with Louisa. "They're really friendly so I don't think so. I could text Charles and see if he's okay with it."

  "Is he the owner?"

  "Yeah, but his parents live there as well. It's a tight-knit family, something you rarely find these days."

  "Wow, this place must be unique for that to exist!"

  He grinned. "Yeah, it is a good spot." He started composing the text. "I don't know when he'll get the reply so it might be a while before we know."

  "Well, we have that concert tonight so today is no good anyway. Tomorrow is free, though, as well as the day after if he doe
sn't reply in time."

  Charles, however, replied within twenty minutes. Rick grimaced. The poor man was probably making the uphill trek hourly, anxious for a response as well. And then to get a text only to discover it wasn't the good news he hoped for? Rick wondered how Charles felt. However, his reply seemed inviting enough, asking them to come whenever they wanted. A few more texts and it was decided they'd go tomorrow morning.

  "A drive tomorrow?" Al asked as they sat around the dinner table. "Sophy, love, we can't go."

  She looked up at him in surprise. "Why not? The calendar said we were free."

  He pointed at Rick. "He's too big. He won't fit in our car!"

  Rick laughed. "You should have picked a bigger car."

  "Hey, I will have you know it can technically fit three if there were all as small as my cute wife." He suddenly snapped his fingers. "I've got it! I found some rope in the garage a while back. We can tie him to the top!"

  "Al!" Sophy managed before succumbing to laughter.

  "Or," Rick intervened, trying hard to not laugh himself, "You could all pile into MY spacious, five-seat car."

  Al frowned. "Now why would we do anything as sensible as that?"

  Chapter 7

  Sensibility won and all three lounged in Rick's car as they made their way toward the Musgroves' idyllic Uppercross. Rick's fingers tightened on the wheel as he drew closer to the place, anxiety rising with each mile. He tried telling himself he feared Sophy and Al might be disappointed, and that his anxiety certainly didn't have anything to do with a pair of chocolate eyes. Besides, she didn't live there. It had been two days; she might have left already. And it wasn't like he cared about her. Nope, not one bit.

  "This area is so beautiful!" Sophy exclaimed. "Almost untouched!"

  "There many roads out here?" Al asked. "Maybe we could do a drive on our own."

  "You should ask Charles Musgrove. I'm sure he'll have more suggestions than I could provide."