Beauty Claimed

by Allyson Lindt

  “Do you think Justin—”

  That was its own can of worms.

  “No. I don’t,” Tara said. “I’ll ask around, but no promises.”

  “Thank you. I’d hate to disappoint the guests.” Which was code for I’d hate to give people another reason to gossip about the family. “Are all right?”

  “I’m fine.” Tara’s tone shifted in an instant, cheer shoving away the threads of weariness.

  Nathan braced himself for what would follow. What always followed her mother’s concerned question.

  “Are you certain?” her mother asked. “You sound tired. Is there something I should know about?”

  Tara met Nathan’s gaze, and her eye roll mimicked his. “No, Mom. There’s no news to share. I’m not expecting. It’s not a hormone swing. I’m just tired.”

  “Take care of yourself. And let me know if that changes. I’m always here for free babysitting. My sixtieth birthday isn’t far off.” The woman was relentless about the fact that both of her children were in their thirties and hadn’t shown any inclination about giving her grandchildren.

  “You’ll be the first to hear the news besides Nathan. Love you, Mom.” Tara disconnected.

  She leaned back in Nathan’s arms, but the moment was gone. He wouldn’t push her. She was dedicated to her family, and while he didn’t understand the concept, he respected her relationship with them. However, he hated seeing her this stressed out over things that she couldn’t control.

  CHAPTER TWO

  NICK’S EYES BURNED with exhaustion. Between connecting and international flights, to get from Salt Lake City, Utah to Milan, Italy, he’d been traveling for more than fourteen hours.

  He was grateful he’d found a cab at midnight. He was almost as glad that he’d thought to pull up his hotel information on his phone before he waved the driver down. The man didn’t speak much English.

  As they headed toward Nick’s hotel, he called his sister. Fiona was in California for an implementation, and it was barely three in the afternoon for her.

  “Shouldn’t you be asleep?” she said when she answered.

  He smiled at her teasing. “I’d like to be, trust me. I just got in an hour ago.”

  “How was your flight?”

  Bumpy enough it made sleeping difficult. But he’d arrived safe, so there was no reason to worry her. “Status quo. How are things going there?”

  “Nothing’s fallen apart in the last twenty-four hours. We hired these people for a reason.”

  He rubbed his eyes, trying to get some moisture back into them. “I know.” Four months ago, when Fiona started traveling and working remotely, he was on the opposite side of this conversation. Convincing her nothing would fall apart if she wasn’t in the office every day.

  Then again, things almost crumbled a couple of times, and it was only the two of them back then. Now they had twenty employees, and were struggling to keep on top of finances, development schedule, and customer expectations.

  “Get settled,” she said. “Nothing will burn down while you’re gone.”

  “All right. But not because you told me to. I was going to anyway.”

  “Right.” Fiona laughed. “If I get emails from you in the next eight hours, I’m going to know better.”

  “No middle-of-the-night messages, I promise. Talk to you soon.” They both hung up.

  Nick was grateful to be on speaking terms with Fiona again. Things were still strained between them, but he was trying his damnedest to wrap his brain around the fact that his sister was in a committed relationship with two different men, and everyone was okay with it.

  She wasn’t always patient with Nick’s attitude. Then again, he didn’t understand how she was dating a man who had almost ruined their company. But Fiona was smitten with Wyatt, and the guy had almost gone to prison for her, despite being innocent. It was one of those ultimate redemption arcs.

  There was still a lot about the situation that Nick didn’t like. It was her life, though. As long as she remembered to keep business and lust separate going forward.

  The cab pulled to a stop in front of the hotel, and the driver tapped the total on the display. Nick paid him, along with a decent tip. The driver looked at the number and rambled off a string of gratzis, as he unloaded Nick’s bags.

  Nick wasn’t sure what to make of the profuse gratitude. He offered another smile, shouldered his luggage, and headed into the hotel. He was grateful the clerk spoke English. Nick might as well be a zombie, for as well as jet lag let his brain function.

  By the time he got to his room, he was ready to sleep for the next week. He stripped off his clothes and collapsed on the mattress.

  Minutes ticked away, creeping toward an hour and then past.

  His body’s insistence on staying awake might be because it was still the middle of the day for him, or because too many things needed his attention.

  Nick gave up on bed. He set up his laptop on the hotel desk, and logged in to get some work done. Most people thought this was the boring stuff—reviewing budgets, making numbers balance, and doing magic with math to make the business stay solvent.

  He loved it. Or, most of the time he did. Right now it would take actual magic to make things come out even.

  He and Fiona wrote an app they described as GrubHub for Cookies. It let people get their sweet tooth fix from bakeries, without having to leave the house.

  They’d done some custom work for one of the bakeries they were hoping to sign on, that managed contracts, and that part of their business was what took off. It led to several new clients, and a significant partnership with Rinslet Media. It was the reason he was in Italy—he was installing the contract software for one of Rinslet’s contestants.

  And in the process, hoping to get his foot in the door with her family’s tech company.

  The partnership with Rinslet was both a boon and a curse when it came to Nick’s business growing. They paid for specific milestones and the next one was several months off.

  Nick had hired several people to meet deadlines and demand, including those for deals that had fallen through. He’d budgeted for some negotiations to fail, but they’d lost a big client after the ink was dry, and that hurt. It would cost more to let team members go for a couple of months, than to keep them on, but he was struggling to find the money, regardless.

  Fiona didn’t know. On the one hand, he figured only one of them needed to worry about this—she had her own concerns. On the other hand, he was having a hard time letting go of blame. If she hadn’t been fucking around...

  They’d still be stuck in a contract with a company who was looking to screw them at every turn.

  He hated to admit it, but that was the reality of the situation.

  Now, Nick needed things with this Tara Bianchi and her family to work out. If he didn’t find another revenue source soon, he’d be letting everyone go, not just a few extra developers.

  TARA WOULDN’T TRADE her family for the world, but there were days she wished their name didn’t carry so much weight. Or at least that her mother didn’t care what people thought of them.

  She rubbed a piece of lace between her fingers and let her irritation and disappointment show.

  “This isn’t what we ordered.” When she was frustrated, her mother’s Irish accent slipped into her Italian. Something she needed to keep in check today. She’d discovered years ago people didn’t take her seriously if they thought Italian wasn’t her native tongue.

  “Says right here. White lace. Geometric pattern.” The decorator’s assistant showed her the invoice.

  Tara already had it memorized. She’d stared at all of this paperwork more than was sane over the last couple of months. She jabbed the line item beneath lace. “On top of black cotton blend. Heavy-weight. Where are the black tablecloths?”

  “I... I’ll call and find out.” The woman was already pulling out her phone as she walked away.

  Tara clenched her fist and forced herself to calm down. There w
ere always hiccups before her mother’s charity dinners, and this one was mild. Tara had half a dozen options to quickly replace black tablecloths if she needed.

  She waved down the florist as he pushed by with a cart of arrangements for the podium. “Leave the centerpieces on the table by the west wall. I’ll place them later.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He nodded and continued with his task.

  Tara had been helping her mother with these dinners longer than not. Most of the events rubbed Tara the wrong way. She liked the cause, but not the spending hundreds of thousands to garner donations of maybe the same. If she had it her way, she’d donate the cash spent on the event, and be done with it.

  But events like this drew attention and spread prestige to causes.

  “Hey, Bella.” Nathan startled her when he rested his chin on her shoulder. “Whipping the castle into shape?”

  His voice and presence were calming. She rested some of her weight against him. “Am I not a benevolent ruler?” She disliked thinking of herself as royalty, but the press had spun her as a princess for as long as she could remember.

  “There is none more kind and generous than you.” He stepped into view. “You look stressed. What can I do?”

  “Tell me you’re hiding a bottle of wine in your jacket?”

  He shook his head. “But I’ll buy you a drink if you can break away for half an hour.”

  “I can’t. I have to find black tablecloths, and shift the schedule tonight because the caterer will be late, we still don’t have a replacement for bachelor number thirteen—”

  “Pick me.” Nathan raised his hand.

  She snorted a short laugh. She was so glad he was here. Her concern was fading with each passing moment. “You want to put on a tuxedo and become a piece of meat to be auctioned off to the highest bidder?”

  “When has that ever been a problem for me?” he teased.

  “I’m serious.”

  “So am I. Prance me out there, and I’ll sell my soul to some lucky patron for a night.”

  This was a tricky line to walk. Most of the community knew she and Nathan dated other people, but no one else believed the couple would last. Tara refused to hide her lifestyle because people were judgmental. In a case like this, she had to consider appearances.

  No one on stage tonight was being sold off for a long-term relationship. And Nathan’s relationship with Tara wasn’t a secret, so this wasn’t deceptive.

  “You in there?” He watched her patiently.

  She nodded. “Weighing the pros and cons.” For instance, most everyone loved Nathan. He was the sexy scruffy American. Nice enough to be safe, but wicked enough to be fun. “Okay. If you’re willing, that would be wonderful.” She was fortunate to have him.

  He kissed her on the cheek. “Point me in a direction so I can help now, and keep me busy until I need to head home to grab our clothes.”

  “Thank you.” She gave him an assignment. She tried not to watch him walk out the door, but it was nearly impossible to ignore how good he made a pair of jeans look.

  He went where she asked, and together they wrangled most everything into shape over the next few hours.

  Nathan ducked out about an hour before the doors were set to open, and returned a short while later with her gown and his suit.

  She was certain she missed something in the setup.

  “It doesn’t matter at this point,” Nathan said. “Everything looks perfect. Go change. You’re going to rock this.”

  She gave him a grateful smile, and a long kiss. She grabbed her dress from him, and ducked into an empty room to change. It was tempting to take him with her, but if he helped her put on her gown, they’d spend more time undressed than she could afford.

  Tara pulled up her hair, and re-touched her make-up, before sliding into the blue satin gown with the low-cut back. She’d never cared for the vibrant color until Nathan told her he liked the way it brought out the blue in her eyes.

  The fabric hugged her body, flaring enough at the hips for her to walk, but not quickly.

  The shawl Tara draped over her shoulders and arms would mostly conceal the large tattoo covering her back. A shame, because she liked to show off the collaborative work. But it was November and it would get chilly tonight.

  She stepped into heels that matched her dress and grew a couple of inches. It would make her taller than most of the people here, which was fine with her.

  When walked into the hallway, a sharp whistle greeted her.

  Nathan leaned against the far wall, trailing his gaze over her. “Probably a good thing you’re the mistress of ceremonies tonight,” he said.

  “Why is that?”

  “You would break bank accounts if you were on the auction block.” He held out his hand. “Shall we?”

  Her cheeks heated at the compliment. Her face must be bright red. She couldn't have gotten her father’s darker complexion like her brother did; she had the same pale skin as her mother.

  They strolled into the main room, to greet guests and mingle.

  The next couple of hours were a blur of making sure each course was served on time, that the right people got any specialty menu choices, and keeping any tension from her face each time someone stopped her to chat, complain, or congratulate her on the evening.

  As dessert and coffee were served, she took the stage. “Thank you everyone for coming out tonight. I know it’s taxing to have to spend an evening drinking and dining, but we appreciate your sacrifice.”

  Her teasing drew a smattering of laughs, which helped relax her. Time to make an impact for the evening.

  She started down the list, introducing bachelors one at a time. They were all handsome. Half of them were a decade younger than she was, which made them at least twenty years younger than most of the women who bid on them.

  She could secure a night with any of them if she wanted, without bidding. It was rare that she found herself pursuing a man besides Nathan though. Actually, she’d only been with other women since they started dating. Most men she ran into tended to be like those up for sale tonight—arrogant, aggressive, and certain they knew better what was good for Tara than she did.

  When she got to Nathan’s name, her voice stuck. She licked her lips and took a discreet sip of wine before continuing.

  “Next up we have a last-minute addition, and I think you ladies are going to like this.”

  The words ran together in her head as she introduced him, and she wasn’t surprised when he was greeted with a round of cheers. It was getting late, and most everyone was several glasses of wine in.

  Bidding picked up quickly, and Tara’s gut sank when the person leading the drive was Gina.

  Tara and Gina dated for a while after Tara and Nathan opened their relationship. Gina and Nathan got along fine, and things seemed to be going well, until Gina walked out one day. She accused Tara of being cold and indifferent, as if she’d let her heart be put to sleep.

  The words had hurt more than Tara liked to admit, and her response was to accuse Gina of being clingy and incapable of sharing. Neither was true, but the argument wasn’t so easily taken back.

  When Tara called Sold, Gina was the winner. Tara hoped she and Nathan had a lot of fun. And that she could ignore the unreasonable jealousy raging inside.

  CHAPTER THREE

  NATHAN DOWNED THE LAST of his coffee, made sure the percolator was set to warm, and headed downstairs to the tattoo parlor beneath Tara and his apartment. He wanted to talk to her, but it would have to be while they worked. The dinner yesterday knocked a day off their shooting schedule, and today was make-up filming.

  He made sure ink was in place, needles were sterile, and the cameras were set up where they needed to be.

  But before the shop opened, before cameras rolled, he’d make sure Tara was all right. He heard the catch in her voice last night when she said Sold. When Gina dropped a ridiculous amount of cash for Nathan’s company for a night.

  And Tara stayed too late, and was to
o busy at the reception hall, for him to pull her aside and check in with her. She’d brushed him off with an, “I’m fine,” before collapsing in bed, curled up in his arms.

  His phone buzzed, and he fished it from his pocket.

  I’m releasing the list today.

  Nathan rolled his eyes at the message. A few months ago, he and this guy, Lenny, hacked a user database for the largest adulterer dating sight in the world.

  It wasn’t anything new for Nathan. Before he met Tara, he’d earned his way doing investigative work for people. Nathan had a knack for getting strangers to surrender details when it came to things like passwords. It was amazing what people let slip when they were comfortable and didn’t think anyone was paying attention.

  He’d gather login info, give it to a client who suspected their significant other of cheating, and let them work things out from there.

  This hack was one Nathan was proudest of. He didn’t have to get access to the database itself. He’d flirted with one of the developers whose personal machine had remote access. Once he was on the guy’s computer, he set up a back door for Lenny to get in.

  Nathan had just wanted to prove he could do it. Once Lenny had the info, he wanted some sort of virtual blood money from the owner for the data.

  Whatever. Leave me out of it, Nathan typed.

  A response came through seconds later. You probably want to check the names out first.

  Nathan rolled his eyes. Another reason he didn’t like working with Lenny. He tended to cry wolf and build tiny things to sky is falling proportions. I don’t care, Nathan replied. Do what you want. I’m done.

  Nathan’s name wasn’t on the list. Tara’s wasn’t. No one they cared about. And the world didn’t give a fuck about a list of affluent men looking to cheat on their wives. It would make gossip blogs for a few days and then blow over.

  Don’t say I didn’t warn you. Ciao, Lenny wrote.

  Nathan pocketed his phone.

  “What’s on the schedule for today?” Tara’s question from behind startled him.