Now all she had to do was figure out how to find the happy balance between planned and spontaneous.
Maybe instead of worrying about what other people thought about her, she needed to start worrying about how she thought about herself.
Chapter 22
Brock
Brock had more than enough to think about and worry over as he went downstairs to check on his mom.
The simple fact was the matchmaking business was in trouble. Maybe not in Paris, France where Roman had created a virtually new market where he didn’t have any competition but online dating sites.
In Mistletoe, Montana that wasn’t the case. Not only did the Wilsons have to compete with the Deans, but the clients present in the wilds of the northern states weren’t as prolific as they were in Europe. People went to Paris specifically to find romance. They went to Montana to find the perfect stud horse for their mares or hunt.
Things were changing, but not fast enough. Brock didn’t want to admit it, but they needed to win that year’s competition – desperately.
At the same time, though, he didn’t want to see the Deans fail either. The only reason they even had problems with the other family was because of choices Roman made. Somehow Roman had left and messed things up for the rest of them and he’d still succeeded where he should have been struck by karma or something.
But Brock refused to harbor any resentment. Or he was trying his best to.
Roman jerked his chin at Brock from his position at the table as he sat with his back facing the large wall-to-ceiling windows. Winter was in full force outside with snow swirling around the dark green trees in the distance and creating a softly muting blanket of weather between there and the house. Roman’s hat sat beside him on the chair and he was bent over a calendar or notebook.
He’d been sitting there with Roman for almost an hour and he still hadn’t been able to broach the topic. It was now or never. Brock took a deep breath, glancing toward the living room as if his mom might overhear what he was about to say. “Is Mom asleep?”
“No, she’s in the bathroom doing her hair. She’s not going anywhere and yet she’s doing her hair. I’ll never understand women.” Roman sat back, resting his arm on the table and loosely holding the pencil in his fingers. After a second of silently studying his younger brother, Roman arched an eyebrow. “You look like you have a lot on your mind, Brock. What’s going on? Anything I can help with?”
Brock moved more fully into the dining area. He swallowed, uncertain how to proceed without upsetting his brother. The last thing he wanted was to make Roman mad and send him halfway around the world again. And yet… he needed to get his thoughts off his chest.
Brock pulled out the chair across from Roman and folded his hands together and set them on the table in front of his chest. “Yeah, actually. I think you can help.” He paused. It was now or never. He wouldn’t get another chance. “The thing is… I overheard the conversation you had with David and Mom the other night.”
He let that sink in. Roman blinked, pressing his lips into a thin line as he considered Brock. He tilted his head slightly forward. “Go on.”
“The thing is… I… Okay, I’m just going to ask it. What are you doing, Roman? I mean… I don’t want you to get butt-hurt and go running back to France for another twenty years, but at the same time… What. Are. You. Doing?” Brock gritted his teeth together, staring his brother down in case Brock decided to change his mind.
Roman held up a hand and shook his head.
“Okay, first of all, butt hurt? I didn’t get mad at anyone or have my feelings hurt by anyone to make me leave, Brock. Dad had pointed some things out and I realized I had to leave if Taylor was ever going to get a chance at real happiness. Dad didn’t think we’d be a good match.” Before Brock could mull over that revelation, Roman continued. “Second, what do you mean what am I doing? I’m sitting here working out my schedule for the rest of the month. Is that okay with you?”
A hard glint in Roman’s blue eyes warned Brock to tread lightly.
“I’m not sure why Dad would say that, but he’s not here now. I’m wondering what you’re doing to Taylor. I almost had her for a sister. We all loved her and then… what you did ripped the family apart. The entire town divided itself based on whose side they were on. Either you sided with the Deans and Taylor’s broken heart or you sided with the Wilsons whose son went on to do great things for Mistletoe even though he never came back.” Brock cocked his head to the side and folded his arms over his chest, leaning back in the chair. “See what I mean, now?”
“What does that have to do with now?” Brock dropped his hand to his thigh and tapped out a rhythmless beat with his fingers on the denim of his jeans. The whisper of touch on material split through the silence as the brothers watched each other.
“It pertains to now because I still care about her. I had to be a big brother from afar and throw off anyone who wasn’t good enough for her. I had to make sure she didn’t get mixed up with the wrong guys and let me tell you, there have been a lot who were interested. I don’t have to tell you, she’s a beautiful woman that anyone would be lucky to call their own. Plenty have wanted to. I scared them all off.” Brock shook his head. “I have no problem running you off, too. I don’t care if Mom and David think you belong together. I don’t believe in the magic of matchmaking like it’s the end-all be-all. We all have the freedom to choose and I don’t think you’re making any good choices. You don’t get to hurt her again. Or the rest of us.” Brock’s chest rose and fell. He hadn’t realized how invested he was in the topic until right then.
“I’m not planning on hurting her.” Roman swiped his hands down his face, sighing as he leaned back and stared at the ceiling. “You want to know the worst part of all of this? I can’t have her, if I want to win. I’m not sure I do want to win that bad, you know?”
Brock shot up to a standing position. He shook his head, thrusting his finger at the table. “You stay away from her, Roman. I’m serious. You have to win this competition. We need the work and it’s guaranteed five more clients, if you do. I know you have enough money to roll around in, but the rest of us don’t.”
“What are you talking about? You have a portion of whatever I brought in. My software program sales were all reinvested into the business.” Roman tucked his jaw as he narrowed his eyes at his brother.
Brock shook his head, huffing as he did so. “No. That’s where you didn’t do your due diligence. You left, right?”
“I don’t know how I could forget. It keeps getting crammed down my throat. What does that have to do with any of this?” Roman’s anger was evident in the squaring of his shoulders and the clenching of his hands.
“When you left, Dad refused to include your earnings in with the business overall growth and income. There’s a bank account with you and him on it and we can’t touch it. Even Mom can’t. All of your clients, everything, is off-limits to us. So, while you’ve been growing the international part of the business exponentially, we’re not benefiting from it unless you mention Mistletoe, Montana in your media or publicity spots.”
Roman’s lips parted and he sat back down, shock slackening his strong jawline. He shook his head. “No. That money, those resources, were all for the family and the business. There are some great things in there that could have turned things around here. I thought you guys just didn’t want to grow.” He shifted his gaze from Brock’s face to somewhere overhead. “He really taught me a lesson, didn’t he?”
“What? Why would Dad split you and Taylor up, if he was just going to cut you out of the family and the business? I don’t understand.” Brock leaned forward. He needed to understand. He had to.
Roman turned from the table, spinning the chair to face away from Brock as he stared out the window. “Dad… He didn’t want the families linked with marriage. He hinted at something that happened before he married Mom and he didn’t want me to marry Taylor. I think he lied and told me I wasn’t a good match for T
aylor and I was going to ruin her life, if I stuck around and married her. He was so convincing. I was so scared. I didn’t want to hurt her, but I also didn’t know how to break it off in person. How did I tell her we couldn’t be together and then have to see her every day? I would have had to be here and watch her marry someone else.”
He raised his hand to his temple and leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his knees as he hung his head. “I couldn’t do it. I wasn’t strong enough for that. I can do a lot of things that most people can’t, but that? I couldn’t do it. I still can’t. If I win the contest, I’m stuck with Olivia for at least six months. If I lose… you’re saying, the family business suffers more than I thought.”
“You’re the one who offered to be a suitor. You didn’t even ask any of us. We know the ins and outs of this lifestyle in a small town. You can’t expect to do everything yourself. We work together here. You don’t even come to the meetings once a week. We work together. You would know that, if you were really trying to fit in here.” Brock sagged back into the chair, defeated with fatigue. He’d been so worked up about everything for so long, he wasn’t sure how he should feel after sharing the problems with the man causing the issues.
How Roman took the information would determine how things worked out. “I understand things haven’t been easier because of me. I thought I was helping, but it sounds like I didn’t do anyone any favors.” Roman stood, moving to the side of the table where Brock had set up camp. Roman leaned down, clapping his hand on Brock’s shoulder and waiting for Brock to raise his eyes to meet Roman’s gaze. “I’m sorry, Brock. I thought I was doing more than I was. I’ll try harder.”
Brock lunged from his seat, catapulting himself into Roman’s arms. He clapped Roman on the back with both hands, patting him and relishing the strength of his brother. “It’s good to have you back, Roman. Just in case no one has told you. We’re glad you’re back more than anything else.” They finally let go of each other.
Eyes bright, Roman nodded cautiously. “I came home to recover from my divorce, but I think deep down I knew I’d left things a mess and I had to fix them before I could try to recover from anything.”
“Well, let’s get to fixing things. I hate to break it to you, but you’re stuck with Olivia, unless she chooses Stephen. We need those clients, so I’m rooting for a Wilson win.” Brock shook his head again and moved to stand beside Roman.
“What if I could get more clients of that same caliber for next year? Would that help with the need to win so bad?” Roman furrowed his brow.
Brock nodded, slowly. “Yeah, I’m just not sure why anyone would want to work with losers, though. Our upcoming fiscal year is usually easy to predict based on if we win or not.” Not to mention how Austin’s mood would be for the first six months of the year.
“Okay, I get it. I’ll see what I can do.” Roman nodded at Brock, his expression serious and unrelenting.
That’s what the family needed. Someone to step in and lead. Someone who could take over with a willingness to change and adapt for the betterment of the family.
Would Roman be able to let go of Taylor and pull through for the family? Or was he going to be selfish and throw everything away because he had his own success.
Hopefully, Brock could count on his brother. He needed to rely on someone. There was no one else left.
Chapter 23
Taylor
The planner was like a missing appendage Taylor had cut off herself and then was lucky enough to have sewn back on. Like a romance without two players, just one pining for the other.
She gripped the edges of the hard-covered planner she’d purchased and pieced together as she strode toward the front doors of the Wilson Matchmaking offices.
A week. It had taken her a week to get back on track with everything – planning, scheduling, eating, exercising, everything. She could actually sleep again now.
What was she thinking when she’d dropped her planning? Probably the same thing she always thought, it was either-or. It wasn’t relax a little bit on the planning, it was completely cut herself off from it or immerse herself completely.
She had to figure out how to find the half-happy medium instead of giving up all of who she was.
The well-built building was nestled on the commercial side of town and since Mistletoe wasn’t more than a few roads wide, the Wilson offices were just a couple streets east from Taylor’s house. There seemed to be a lull in the Montana storms that usually took hold in early December and didn’t let go until well into March.
The sun shone from a low point in the sky and stretched its bright rays across the chilly blue sky.
With sleep under her belt and a little more control at her fingertips, Taylor didn’t see why she’d been so upset with Roman. He’d been honest. Or tried to be.
He couldn’t know that Stephen wasn’t interested in her at all. It wasn’t Roman’s fault. He might have some kind of melancholic sentiments around her since coming home. He wasn’t really interested in her again. He was just wrapped up in the feelings that Mistletoe evoked.
She pulled her courage more around her and lifted her chin as she strode up to the door to the offices. Brock Wilson saw her through the window and approached from inside, opening the door for her and ushering her inside. “Taylor, wow. I’m surprised you’re here. Normally, the meetings are at the diner or library.” He looked closer at her, his brow furrowed like she might be sick.
She waved her hand and shook her head. “I know. The library is being inundated with elementary aged children for a read-along and the diner is hosting a tea time for the Mistletoe Mothers of Montana group. I opted out.” She smirked and hiked her tote bag higher on her shoulder. “I texted Roman and asked if we could just meet here since I’m not sure my sisters… are ready to welcome him just yet.”
“Ah, that makes sense.” Brock motioned for her to come inside and then closed the door behind her. “Well, I’m sure he’s back in the office or in the conference room. Let’s check there first, shall we?” Brock moved ahead of her, his broad shoulders and good looks standard to the Wilson family. One more reason Taylor thought it was best the two families stayed away from each other. Every guy there could snag one of her sisters’ hearts.
Hadn’t Taylor proved that wasn’t the best option for anyone?
Brock pushed the door open, letting her into a cozy conference room complete with mahogany table, high wing-backed leather chairs, thick carpeting, beverages and refreshment table on the side as well as a pen holder with multiple ballpoint pens bearing the Wilson Matchmaking logo.
Oh, that would be a good investment for the Dean family to get.
“Go ahead and make yourself comfortable. I’ll find Roman and let him know you’re here.” Brock moved back to the doorway.
“Thanks. No rush. I’m about ten minutes early.” She smiled and claimed a seat on the opposite side of the table from the door. She opened her planner, glad that this time around she’d added in a note section to eliminate the need to carry around a notebook.
The door opened and Roman stood there, staring at Taylor with confusion on his face. “Taylor? What are you doing here?”
Taylor glanced at her calendar and then back at him and then back down, placing her finger on that day’s column in the weekly planner section. “It says here we have a meeting. Remember? We texted about it?” She licked her lips, more cognizant than ever about the lines of his jaw, the way his bangs hung down across his forehead, and the crystalline depths of his blue eyes.
Dang, why was she there again?
She blinked, glancing down at the planner and struggled to refocus. “Okay, so, right. We need to plan out the announcement and then we need to discuss the follow-up interviews. I’m pretty sure I’m not too early. Is that right?” She wasn’t sure with much since she couldn’t think completely normally around him.
She’d been so discombobulated with her planner cut out of her life that she’d been less confused around Roman than
just feeling like she was on the edge of chaos.
Now, though, with Roman in the room and Taylor back to feeling more like herself, his magnetism was more overwhelming, more intoxicating. Taylor wasn’t sure she was happy with the way he was making her feel.
Roman closed the door, his shirt pulling taut across the muscles of his chest and showcasing the trim lines of his waist.
Maybe she needed to go back to the confused state she’d been in when she didn’t know what was going on.
Roman glanced from her face to the top of the table, his eyes darkening as he took in the presence of her planner. “You found your planner. What now?”
Taylor cleared her throat and folded her hands on the table as she refused to balk from the accusatory look in his eyes. “Yeah, I actually didn’t find it per se. I had to go out and purchase another one.” She shrugged. “How have you been?” What else would she say? She didn’t know what to say. She didn’t even know how to act exactly.
She reached up, brushing her hair off her forehead. “Look, I’m sorry for what happened last time. I wasn’t trying to be mean. I honestly… I saw Stephen and I asked him about it. He didn’t even reply really. But I just don’t think it’s possible. He didn’t seem interested when I confronted him.” Taylor had felt ridiculous saying it, too.
Roman sat across from her, leaning back, his collar falling open and showing the strong slope of his neck as his chest disappeared beneath the crisp white of his shirt. “So that’s it? You got your planner and everything’s back to normal and nothing has happened? What is going on with you?”
Taylor blinked, reaching down and playing with the corner of the planner for some courage. “You said we could be friends, right?” She didn’t wait for his answer as she plowed forward. “The thing is, Roman, I thought I had to change how I was because no one cared about me, no one liked me, but that’s just not the case. I didn’t like me. Me. I was having problems finding happiness with myself and I thought I could fix things by changing a huge part of who I was. But that’s not how this works.”
Matched With Her Cowboy Billionaire Ex-Fiance Page 18