Maddie stole a look at her sister. Schuyler looked thoroughly stricken.
“I’m sorry,” Maddie conceded. “I must’ve misunderstood.”
They rode in silence for a few moments, until Schuyler bounced back.
“We really did cause a commotion over you two matching up at the Ping-Pong table.” Schuyler shifted in her seat so that she was facing Maddie, and continued as if she hadn’t heard a word Maddie had said. “Mads, you two would be so perfect. If you start dating now, you can bring him to the wedding. You’ll look so good in pictures. Like Barbie and Ken.”
Maddie rolled her eyes. “I’m about as far from Barbie as a Tonka truck.”
“Stop being so hard on yourself,” Schuyler said. “He’s totally into you. I can feel it. And with a little...” Schuyler reached out and gently toyed with a lock of Maddie’s long blond hair. “With just a little spiffing up, you could totally put Barbie to shame. Barbie ain’t got nothin’ on you, sister.”
Maddie made the mistake of glancing at Schuyler and saw her make a gesture that was a combination of double finger guns, a shrug and pursed lips.
“What?” Schuyler laughed. “Don’t look at me that way. It’s true. But don’t be insulted. That wasn’t a dig at your looks. You’re gorgeous, Mads. But you could be like Hollywood-level gorge if you just made a few changes.”
Okay. Here we go.
Maddie felt her walls going up. Schuyler was the pretty sister. Maddie had always been the smart sister. Not the smartest sibling—her brothers had that sewed up. Valene was the baby, so, somehow, she escaped being compared to any of them.
Lucky Val.
Too bad society often valued looks over substance. Not that Sky lacked substance. She just... Well, sometimes Schuyler got away with things because she was pretty. She smiled and batted her big blue eyes and men turned to putty in her hands.
Sky wasn’t manipulative. Not exactly. She didn’t have a mean bone in her body. What she did have was this almost childlike, free-spirited quality and a general lack of self-consciousness that allowed her to get away with things that Maddie would never even dream of trying.
Maddie didn’t have time to worry about the latest fashions and lipsticks. Classic wardrobe pieces and a no-nonsense grooming routine had always served her well. She wore her long, thick blond hair one length so she could let it dry naturally and pull it back from her face, which was always makeup-free, except for a swipe of clear lip gloss on special occasions. She had been blessed with good skin. So, why take a chance of clogging her pores with makeup she didn’t have time to mess with anyway?
“Comparing a woman to Barbie isn’t exactly a compliment, Sky. And last I heard, Ken wasn’t interested in Barbie. I don’t think she’s his type, if you know what I mean. Not that there’s anything wrong with Ken’s preference. You know, love is love is love. I believe in live and let love, whatever floats his boat. Right now, my preference is to focus on work.”
Yeah, and look where that had gotten her. A first-class ticket to nowhere. For a split second her life flashed before her eyes and she didn’t like what she saw: still single; the spinster sister. Her nieces and nephews would call her Crazy Old Aunt Maddie. Only, instead of cats, she’d have a whole herd of corgis.
When she glanced at Schuyler, her sister was frowning.
“If you ask me,” Schuyler said, “I think you’re protesting too much, sister dear.”
Maddie felt heat bloom at her chest and begin to work its way up.
Maybe, she was protesting too much. She was giving herself away. So, she seized the opportunity to grab the layup her sister had presented like a gift.
“I don’t remember asking you, Sky. In fact, I have no idea what you’re talking about. What am I overprotesting?”
“All I’m saying is you’d have to be dead not to notice how drop-dead gorgeous Zach McCarter is. Or oblivious. Maybe my sister is oblivious.” Schuyler directed the comment to Carlo in the back seat, as if Maddie wasn’t even there. “A hot guy is interested in her and she’s oblivious.”
Carlo didn’t answer.
Maddie stole another glance in the rearview mirror and was relieved to see that Carlo’s earbuds were still in place. He was the one who seemed to be oblivious. Thank God.
“Don’t talk about me like I’m not here,” Maddie protested. “And don’t pull Carlo into this. FYI, when I’m in the office, I focus on my job, I don’t ogle my coworkers.”
“Are you really so focused on your work that you can’t see what’s right in front of you?”
Even though Maddie’s eyes were glued to the road, she felt her sister’s gaze boring into her as the heat that had been confined to her chest crept up her neck until it burned her cheeks.
Schuyler clapped her hands. “Oh, my God. You do see him. You like him, don’t you?”
For a fraction of a second Maddie felt all her defenses give way and every schoolgirl emotion wash over her face. And even though Schuyler could only see her in profile she obviously saw it, too.
“You are totally into him!” she said. “Carlo, she likes him.”
All Maddie could do was shake her head like an idiot.
“Mads, it’s okay. There’s nothing wrong with having a crush on a guy. I mean, especially at your age.”
Maddie slanted a look of death at her sister.
“Thanks for that, Sky. You always know how to make me feel good.”
“I didn’t mean to upset you,” Schuyler said. “You know what I mean.”
Yes, she did. And her sister was right. She was twenty-nine years old and single with no romantic prospects. It shouldn’t matter. It didn’t matter because she was married to her job. Yet, she couldn’t even admit that she had a crush on Zach McCarter. And why not? Carlo wasn’t listening and Schuyler was a safe confidant. For all her free-spirited ways, she’d also proven herself to be trustworthy—a virtual vault...after she wore you down and made you confess.
For a moment, Maddie let herself wonder if the coworker excuse was simply another part of her defense mechanism.
It was. She had enough self-awareness to admit that. But it was also true that if she admitted her attraction to Zach and things got weird, she might lose one of the firm’s best brokers.
There she was overthinking it again—
But that’s why she was good at her job. She thought things through. Where Schuyler would leap and hope the net appeared, Maddie looked at pros and cons from every angle before taking one step.
The overriding fact was, she and Zach had worked together for five years. Albeit, they’d been in different offices. They’d had five years to flirt. They’d had five years to act on any possible feelings or chemistry or electricity—whatever you wanted to label it. If he’d been interested, if he’d had any feelings for her, he would’ve acted on them by now. He hadn’t. Clearly, he wasn’t interested.
Even though she’d crushed on him from afar, that ship had sailed. Her father had pitted them against each other and she was going to win the promotion. So, it would be an exercise in frustration to try and start up something now. Even if it wouldn’t be wildly inappropriate for the brand-new president to date one of her employees, she wouldn’t have any time for a new relationship—or even a date. She would have her hands full with work.
Maddie knew the only way to get Schuyler off her back was to give a little, but lay down the law.
“Of course Zach is gorgeous. Everybody knows Zach is gorgeous. Zach knows Zach is gorgeous. He’s simply not my type.”
“I don’t know, Mads,” Schuyler said. “I felt some serious chemistry zinging back and forth between the two of you.”
Enough!
For a moment, Maddie was tempted to lash out, to tell her sister that she had much more important things to worry about than handsome faces and zinging chemistry. But she caught herself before she did. She bit her lip a little too hard to make her unkind words dissipate. And good thing. It was her fatal flaw—when she got defensive, when she felt lik
e she’d been backed into a corner, she tended to come out swinging. Being mean to Schuyler would be like kicking a puppy, which she would never do. Her sister didn’t have a mean bone in her entire body. If Maddie knew what was good for her she would try to be a little more like her impractical, impetuous little sister.
Really, she knew it was futile to wish she could be more like Schuyler, who lived for the moment and put her heart’s desire above all that was practical—hence, her determination to go against their father’s wishes and follow a lead she believed would prove that their family, with its Fortunado last name, was related to the infamous Fortune family.
Maddie steered the car off the high road and onto the street of the Westlake neighborhood home she was sure was perfect for Schuyler and Carlo. And not a moment too soon.
“We’re here,” Maddie announced as she flicked on her right signal and turned onto the brick driveway of a house that looked like a smaller reproduction of a Spanish castle.
She knew her sister well enough to know she was easily distracted by shiny objects. Right on cue, Schuyler’s eyes widened and her jaw dropped. “This is it? Oh, Maddie, it’s beautiful. It’s just perfect. Carlo, look!”
Carlo had pulled out the earbuds and was echoing his fiancée’s awe.
There was nothing like a piece of gorgeous real estate to reframe a conversation. Perched high atop a hill, overlooking Lake Austin, this house was a particularly stunning show-stealer. Carlo and his cousins had recently opened Mendoza Winery in the Hill Country and business was booming. Though this estate was at the upper end of the couple’s price range, the bank had prequalified them for it.
“This is it,” Maddie said, as she took off her seat belt. “First and foremost, the backyard is fenced in for the dogs.” Schuyler had recently rescued two little dogs named Stuff and Fluff. “It features four bedrooms, three baths, a gourmet kitchen, with a keeping room, a media center, exercise and sauna, wine cellar and tasting room, pool and spa, a guest apartment, and a three-car garage. Would you like to see inside?”
“What’s a keeping room?” Carlo asked.
“It’s an open-plan room that flows right off the kitchen,” Maddie said.
She let herself out of the car and joined her sister and Carlo, who were staring up at the house like they’d found the Holy Grail.
“Could you see yourselves here?” Maddie asked.
Schuyler nodded. “This is our house, Carlo.”
Carlo laughed. “It’s impressive, but we haven’t even seen the inside yet.”
“I know,” Schuyler said. “But I just know this is our house.”
“Well, come on in and have a look around.” Maddie took the lead and started toward the oversize dark wooden double doors.
This was why she loved her job. She was good at it. Matching couples and families with their dream homes was like a sixth sense for her. When she was doing that, and getting a reaction like she’d gotten from Schuyler and Carlo, she was in her glory. Setting up people with houses was so much more comfortable than allowing herself to be matched for a relationship—or pitted against the only man she could’ve seen herself getting involved with.
It was all for the best. She hadn’t always made the best decisions where men were concerned. A lot of time had passed since her last mistake. Nonetheless, it was a lesson learned. That’s why even if the electricity between Zach and her burned bright the way Schuyler claimed it did, Maddie had to pull the plug.
* * *
The GPS indicated that Zach’s destination was approaching on the left. He turned down the Tim McGraw song that was playing on the radio, flicked on his signal and slowed down before he steered the behemoth of a pickup truck he’d rented for the occasion onto the apron of the driveway, stopping in front of an impressive black iron gate. He pushed the button on the call box. After Zach identified himself, the person connected to the voice on the other end buzzed him in.
As he followed the long, winding gravel road past stands of pine trees and fenced-in pastureland, he took the opportunity to survey what he could see of the property—and it was vast.
With more than three thousand acres of unspoiled Hill Country farmland, the Pomodoro Ranch in Sisterdale was a gem. He already sensed it had been worth the nearly four-hour drive from Houston. Or at least it would be once he secured the listing. He silently vowed that he was not leaving here until he had a signed agreement.
That’s why he’d pulled out all the stops and had changed into boots, jeans and a chambray work shirt, which he’d washed three times to take away the just-purchased look of it. The ensemble was far from his usual style, but he figured Jim and Mary Ann Winters, owners of the Pomodoro, would be more comfortable with someone dressed in Texas casual than a guy who arrived in a convertible BMW and looked like he was ready to grab a nine iron and hit the golf course.
He’d also made sure his ride was as much of an accessory as the Stetson sitting on the seat next to him. The Ford F-150 wasn’t his Beemer by any stretch of the imagination, but it had proven to be a surprisingly comfortable ride.
The gravel road delivered him in front of a rambling wooden and brick colonial ranch-style house with an awe-inducing six-car garage and double beveled-glass front doors. Zach parked in the generous area in front of the house that was finished in pavers.
Before he’d closed the door to the truck’s cab, a man in a cowboy hat, faded, work-worn jeans and a plaid shirt, who looked to be upwards of seventy, had stepped outside and was offering his hand.
“You Zach McCarter?” he drawled.
“Yes, sir. That would be me.” He met the man’s hand with a firm shake. “Mr. Winters, nice to meet you.”
“Thanks for making the drive all the way out here, son,” Jim Winters said. “The location scares off some people from the city. I guess you could say that’s the first test I’ve been putting Realtors through since I started interviewing brokers. But I heard you were the very best. Is that the truth?”
“I’ll do everything in my power to make sure you’re not disappointed.”
He wished he could say he was the best, but a certain competitive blue-eyed blonde had been giving him a run for that honor. Lately, the visceral reaction he felt when he thought of her made him realize that if circumstances were different—if he didn’t work for her father, if they weren’t competing for the same job that would make one of them the boss and leave the other gravely disappointed—he might want to see what else the two of them could excel at together. And it wouldn’t be anything that could happen at the office.
But he couldn’t think about Maddie right now. For the last few days, since their meeting with Kenneth, Zach had been telling himself to keep his mind in the game and his efforts focused on proving that he was the man for the job. And that started with landing this listing.
“You up for walking the land?” Jim Winters asked.
“I can’t think of anything I’d rather do right now.”
The older man nodded. “This ranch has been in my family for three generations. But my boys moved out years ago, and they have their own families and lives. Seems like no one is interested in ranching these days. That’s why Mary Ann and I decided the best thing we could do is sell the place. Do you think you can find me a buyer, son?”
* * *
Several hours later, Zach parked in an open space near the front doors of the high-rise building that housed the Fortunado office. He’d just gotten back to town after the listing appointment in Sisterdale. It was after business hours—if the real estate industry had business hours. All the top producers worked way beyond the usual Monday-through-Friday, nine-to-five gig. It was Friday night and he had about an hour’s work left before he could call it a day. It didn’t feel like a sacrifice to Zach. In fact, he felt more at home at the office than he did at his condo.
First, he wanted to change out of the Wranglers and chambray work shirt he’d worn to the appointment with Jim and Mary Ann Winters. His regular outfit of khakis and a button-down
was neatly hanging on hangers on a hook behind his office door. The way he looked at it, he wasn’t being disingenuous by wearing the Wranglers and Stetson, as much as he was giving the clients what they wanted. And it had worked. He’d landed the listing. His tenth listing this week.
As he unlocked the front door and secured it behind him, he noticed a light was on in the office across the hall from his. Maddie’s office.
It shouldn’t be a surprise. The only other person who rivaled him for hours worked was Maddie. He hadn’t seen her car in the parking lot, and thought she might have called it an early day.
Obviously, he’d miscalculated.
She was fierce, competitive and hungry—eager to take down her competition and slow to back down. Those were the perks that came from growing up wealthy and entitled. She possessed a confidence he’d never been afforded growing up in the foster care system. His father had worked himself to death—literally—leaving his mother to raise Zach and his brother on her own. She died two years later, when Zach was fifteen and his brother Rich was twenty-one. Technically, Rich had been old enough to be Zach’s guardian, but he said he wasn’t up for the responsibility. For lack of knowing better and trusting that her oldest son would do right by his younger brother, their mother had named Rich the beneficiary of the life insurance policy she’d had through her job. It had gone a long way toward putting Rich through law school. The deal was supposed to be once Rich graduated and got established, he would put Zach through college. But in order to get through law school, he’d said he needed to be free to pull all-nighters at the library without the responsibility of a moody, grieving teenage brother who skipped school and got into trouble.
His grandparents were dead and his one aunt and uncle had been estranged from his mother, so Zach had nowhere to go. Whether it was at the behest of the authorities or because Rich didn’t know how—or want—to fight for him, Zach ended up in foster care. He bounced around the system. He’d hidden how scared and abandoned he’d felt behind a facade of independence and toughness. The big takeaway from that three-year period of his life was that it was best not to depend on anyone.
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