Jane hung up the phone before she said something she could never take back.
Her childhood room suddenly felt too small, choking the life out of her. A memory surfaced of her father.
“Knock, knock.” Daddy walked in with an apron over his work clothes. He held a tray in his hand, and a rose was laid across the plate of eggs and French toast. A giant cup of coffee sat on the far right side. “I figured you’d need this.”
She didn’t trust herself to speak, so she nodded her head and looked away.
“They don’t deserve you, sweetheart,” he whispered once he set the tray on the bed and tilted her chin toward him. “Girls are fickle creatures. I love all three of you, but sometimes, we say things that are hurtful. Things we don’t mean. Promise that you’ll see through that and try to keep the family together.” He coughed; the tray trembled in his hands as he sat on her bed. “Just promise to try. Family is all we have.”
“I promised to keep everyone together,” Jane whispered aloud as the memory faded.
But was that what her dad had meant? To be a maid to her own family? No. And she’d already made her decision to stand her ground. So, with shaking hands, she grabbed a suitcase and started packing.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Brock frowned at the text.
She was late.
He tried not to be irritated. After all, he needed her if their plan was going to work.
Brock was checking his phone again when the door to his limo flew open, revealing a flurry of leopard print and expensive perfume. She flashed him a knowing smile and slid across the smooth leather seat. Her bright red lipstick was like a homing beacon in the dark car.
“Well,” she huffed. “I’m listening. What exactly do you need from me?”
Everything. He leaned back and took a deep breath then faced the one woman he knew could help keep his family in charge of Wellington, Inc.
But this wasn’t business.
No. This was personal.
Brock exhaled and faced the one woman he knew who could easily destroy a man with a simple snap of her fingers, and said, “I love her.”
Her eyebrows shot up to her hairline and an excited smile crossed over her soft features. “Really?”
“Yes.” He swallowed. “So damned much I can’t lose her. But I also love my grandfather.”
“Which leaves us at an impasse.” She tapped her chin with a long red fingernail and smirked. “I do love a good romance.”
Didn’t he know it. Rumors had been rampant over the last few years on how she’d set up her own grandsons and basically forced them into blissful marriages, all without missing a beat.
Which was why he’d come to her.
Wellington, Inc. needed her partnership in order to please the shareholders, and if she agreed to help him with Jane he’d owe her. This would give her more power than she already had, but he knew she’d like that, and he was betting it would make her more willing to form an alliance with Wellington, Inc., if only because she’d feel she had the upper hand.
Besides. He would do anything. Anything.
For Jane.
“What will you give me if I help you?” She sobered, her expression suddenly all business.
Brock met her stare and paused, then said, “A damned good show.”
At that she threw back her head and laughed. “Like grandfather, like grandson?”
“I’d like to think I’m less stuffy…”
“Oh honey.” Her voice dropped into a husky whisper. “You have absolutely no idea.”
Yeah, that was too much information.
“So you’ll help me win the woman I love?”
“Oh, I’ll help you all right, and I’ll do it out of the goodness of my heart.” She patted him on the shoulder. “And for the simple fact that while I despise your family as competition, I would be bored to tears without it—plus, that grandfather of yours.” She rubbed her hands together and smirked. “He’s quite…wonderful, isn’t he?”
“When he isn’t trying to control everyone and everything? Yes.” Brock spoke without thinking.
“Oh honey.” She patted his hand. “That’s just us grandparents worrying about the future. Besides, something tells me that my involvement will make him happier than you could possibly imagine.”
“Oh?” That piqued his interest. “How so?”
Her smile was warm. “Because it will make you happy—and despite what you think—that’s all he’s ever wanted.”
Brock didn’t know what to say to that.
She seemed to pick up on his hesitation and shrugged. “You’ll have to make sure the media believes it. I hope you haven’t been having any secret rendezvous with the girl, or texts since you’ve returned from the ranch that they can grab a hold of.”
He exhaled. At least he’d done that right. “No, no. I’ve been waiting until I spoke with you. Until you agreed.”
She harrumphed. “Well, now that I have, it’s just going to get harder. No direct contact.” She drew out the word ‘direct.’ “Until the night of, got it? No funny business. The last thing we need is for this to look like a set-up.”