It was obvious Jacqueline thought ísa would be well entrenched in the corporate world by then, with no desire to leave. Which told ísa exactly how well Jacqueline knew her. Because ísa would rather take up chewing nails as a fun downtime hobby.
“I’ve already committed to teaching night classes at the school. I won’t pull out of that. I gave my word.”
“If you’ll recall, I’m the one who taught you to keep your word.” Still clearly in a good mood after her bout of familial blackmail, Jacqueline put her hands on her hips. “How many hours will that take out of your schedule?” When ísa told her, she said, “Done. I’ll have Annalisa bring in the contract.”
ísa was entirely unsurprised to discover the contract had already been drawn up. Jacqueline had been sure she’d win. She always won. Except when she didn’t care about the outcome. Then she just pulled out of the fight. As Catie’s father had discovered when he’d made noises about a custody battle.
Jacqueline had taken the opportunity to sign over full custody to Clive.
It was forty minutes later, after ísa had read and signed the contract, insisting on a number of changes along the way—all of which made Jacqueline beam like a proud lioness—that she couldn’t stand it any longer.
“Who was the man I met as I came in?” she asked in a voice as casual as casual could be while her heart thumped and her thighs pressed tightly together.
“Noticed his blue eyes did you?” Jacqueline asked, her own gaze on the contract as she checked that ísa had signed everywhere she was required to sign.
Obviously, the Dragon didn’t trust her progeny with the killer instinct not to wriggle out of the agreement unless it was ironclad.
“You have good taste,” Jacqueline continued. “Have fun, but don’t let him distract you from the job. And for God’s sake, don’t start believing you’re in love with a nice piece of ass like I did with Clive and make the mistake of marrying him. Sleep with him and get him out of your system.”
“Mother.” That was pushing it even for Jacqueline.
Not appearing the least abashed, her mother put down the contract at last. “Sailor Bishop’s a new contractor—landscaping. Some excellent ideas, so if you do sleep with him, try not to dump him until after he’s completed the job. I once made that mistake with another contractor—he kept breaking down into tears on the job and couldn’t even give me a concise site report.”
ísa wondered if Nayna had ever had a conversation like this with her mother. “Maybe we should talk about my duties as VP,” she said, the topic of Sailor Bishop fraught with far too much danger.
“I was getting to that. I want you to handle the Fast Organic project from here on out.” Jacqueline began to bring up the files.
And ísa decided there was a silver lining to being blackmailed into being a VP: given the workload, she’d have no time to give in to the temptation to see Sailor Bishop again and finish what they’d started.
* * *
SAILOR COULDN’T STOP THINKING ABOUT his redhead… and that single flash of hurt he’d glimpsed in her expression before she went all mad Fury on him. What Cody had done, the cruelty and planned humiliation of it, had really, badly hurt her. Enough that the shadows lingered to this day.
He stabbed his shovel harder into the earth, his shoulder muscles tight. “Asshole.”
Sailor truly didn’t consider the other man a friend of any kind. The idea of being associated with a guy who’d done what Cody had was abhorrent to him. Sailor’s mother and father would tan his hide if he ever disrespected a woman that way—hell, Sailor would tan his own useless hide.
But Cody, it appeared, had gotten away with it.
Sailor had never heard a word about anyone confronting the other man on the subject. He’d considered doing so himself, but he’d been on his own confused path back then, and getting arrested for assault had simply not been on the agenda. Not even for a beautiful redhead whose tears haunted him.
Only now she wasn’t a mysterious redhead.
She was ísa, his glorious, fiery spitfire with skin of moonlight and a heart that carried scars still from that night. Scars that had almost put a halt to their relationship before it began.
So, even though he had a hundred things on his plate, he picked up his phone and managed to find someone who had Cody’s number. The other man was understandably startled at hearing from Sailor but agreed amazingly quickly to meet up with him for a drink after work.
Sailor was waiting in dirt-streaked khaki shorts and a light brown Bishop Landscaping T-shirt, dirt-caked work boots on his feet, when Cody drove into the small parking lot behind the bar where they’d agreed to meet. The other man parked his shiny white Audi in the spot next to Sailor’s battered truck, Cody’s car the newest model on the market.
Sailor knew that because his brother Jake was a gearhead. Jake was mostly into grunty muscle cars, but he kept up with all kinds of car news and had a habit of sprinkling car facts into the conversation. He’d also left a couple of his magazines behind at Sailor’s place the last time he’d hung out there.
So Sailor knew the car Cody was driving was worth in the vicinity of a hundred thousand.
He’d have been impressed if he didn’t know the Audi was courtesy of Suzanne’s parents’ money. Cody did work—as a financial consultant, whatever that was—but it was in Suzanne’s family’s business. As far as Sailor was aware, the other man had never held a position totally independent of his fiancée’s family company.
Getting out of the vehicle, the suit-and-tie-wearing male with a modelesque jawline and impeccably cut hair of rich brown shot him a smile. “Hey, Sailor. It was great to hear from you.” There was something too enthusiastic about the greeting, directed as it was to a man Cody had only ever run across when their teams played one another.
“I have to tell you,” Cody continued before Sailor could respond, “I haven’t had a chance to catch up with the any of the boys for a while. My fiancée, Suzanne—you might’ve seen her at some of the interclub functions—likes me at home.”
Sailor wondered exactly how long a leash Suzanne permitted Cody. From the way Cody was tugging at his tie, it looked like the other man was contemplating an escape. Sailor didn’t think he’d get very far before he remembered the fancy car and the fancy house and the fancy yacht. “I’d say it’s good to see you Cody, but it isn’t.”
Face falling, Cody appeared to only then notice the otherwise empty parking lot. “Hey, is the bar not even open?” A hint of trepidation.
“No. It opens in an hour.” Which was why Sailor had asked to meet now.
Cody took a step back. “Look, Sailor”—he lifted up his hands, palms out—“whatever you’ve heard, I didn’t do it. I haven’t even thought about you in months, not since that last game.”