Chapter 9
It didn’t matter that he’d tried to prepare himself to see her, because Nick was still stunned speechless for just a moment when Berkley walked into the restaurant.
He’d chosen this place specifically—he knew it was her favorite.
And she looked good enough to eat. As always. Not that he should be thinking about her in anything other than a professional manner. He just hoped she agreed to work with him.
And not just because his sister was going to be pissed at him if he couldn’t salvage this.
He wanted to spend time with Berkley. Get to know her more. Had wanted that from the moment he’d met her.
But her smile was neutral, nothing like that first genuine one he’d been hit with a year ago—and never recovered from. “Hopefully you haven’t been here long,” she murmured.
He stood, waiting for her to sit, and shook his head. “Just got here. Thank you for meeting with me tonight.”
“It’s fine. I was just leaving a birthday party, so it was good timing.”
Her dark hair was down in soft waves and her green eyes held him captivated—as always. In a dark green sweater dress, shimmery tights and heeled boots, she could have been coming from a date. Something he didn’t want to think about.
“Before we start, I want to apologize…” He paused as their server stepped up and took her drink order, flirting a little too heavily for his liking.
Not that it should matter, but he didn’t have to like it. Still, the server didn’t know this wasn’t a date.
“So… You wanted to apologize?” There was a hint of mischief in her dark green eyes as she watched him across her sparkling water.
He cleared his throat. “Yes. To be blunt, I was a dick this morning.”
Her eyebrows raised a fraction. “Did your sister tell you to say that?”
He snort-laughed at her bluntness. “No. I realized this all on my own. I…wasn’t trying…
Okay, I was price shopping. But that’s not personal.
And it has nothing to do with you. My sister has recently pointed out that I need to let her do her damn job and I should have.
She’d already researched your business and you were correct in assuming that it was a done deal.
” He paused, trying to gauge her expression.
“We would still like to sign that contract if you’re open to it. ”
She cleared her throat, still watching him warily. Which, fine, fair. “The price might have gone up a little.”
Also fair enough. “You can just call it the asshole fee for my behavior.”
She let out a startled laugh and he drank in the sound. Full-bodied and so genuine, it infused him straight to his bones. “I mean, I wasn’t going to say that out loud,” she said, still laughing lightly. “Even if I was thinking it.”
“Look, it’s clear we got off on the wrong foot.”
“We?” Her expression sobered.
“Fine. Me. I very clearly let my relationship with your ex-husband color my view of you, and for that I apologize.”
She looked surprised, probably because he was being so blunt, then she snorted softly.
“What?” he asked.
She sighed, lifted a shoulder. “He screwed half the nurses at the hospital, yet you judged me as the bad guy in the relationship. It’s frustrating because you’re not the only one…” She shook her head. “Never mind, that’s not professional to talk about.”
“He really cheated on you?” When Clover had told him that, he’d been curious about the details. Also, what kind of moron would cheat on someone like Berkley? He hated cheating regardless, but Henry had to be the worst kind of stupid to look for someone else.
She gave him a look that said exactly how much she thought of his question. “Uh, yeah.”
Okay, so his sister had been right. Clearly he didn’t know Henry Moore at all. And at this point, he realized he had a huge blind spot and needed to pull his head out of his ass.
“But I definitely don’t want to talk about him. I would, however, love to talk about the Carmine Mansion.”
He smiled at the enthusiasm in her voice. “I knew you wanted the job.”
“Of course I want it. But I know my worth.” She said it almost defiantly, as if daring him to contradict her.
“And I respect that… Is JR King Auctions really thieves?”
“Oh yeah. They’re the worst.” She shuddered slightly. “They’ve scammed more people than I want to think about. One day they’re going to mess with the wrong person and hopefully get sued. Or just get their asses kicked.”
He liked how blunt she was about things, how she didn’t hold back with her honesty.
And yeah, he realized how very wrong he’d been about her.
His first instinct when meeting her had been spot-on.
She was the real deal, a genuine person who made his heart race out of control simply by being in her presence.
They spent the rest of dinner talking, partially about the contract, but a little about her family and his sister. Just surface stuff, but she’d definitely thawed on him.
He wasn’t certain he deserved it, but he’d take it.
Because his sister had been right. As always.
She’d reamed him out again today and he’d realized that he might lose her not only as a partner if he didn’t start treating her like they were equals, but in subtler ways too.
Because all the shit she’d tossed at him yesterday morning had hit its mark.
Even if he didn’t want to dwell on it—he needed to acknowledge it. And do something about it.
“Oh, my sister said she saw you,” Berkley said as the server dropped off her dessert, a chocolate ricotta cake. She got a little powdered sugar on her bottom lip and he had the sudden urge to reach out and swipe it with his thumb.
Or his tongue.
Hell. He tightened his jaw, forcing his expression to relax. He wanted her more than was sane. More than he’d ever expected to fall for someone. “Ah, yeah. For a case she’s working.”
“Oh.”
She didn’t ask more, but he didn’t want a lapse in conversation so he opened up more than he normally would have.
“This guy that I was about to do business with… He was killed. Ah, murdered. I don’t really know the details, but I called him while your sister was at his place, I guess.
So she asked me down to talk about what I knew of him. ”
“Oh my gosh, that’s awful.”
“Yeah. I honestly didn’t know the guy well. Not that I’m downplaying his death, but I’d only met him a couple times.”
She nodded and looked as if she wanted to say more, but then frowned as she looked past him.
He followed her gaze, saw her friend Silvia passing by the open doorway from the courtyard. The dark-haired woman glanced over at them and looked almost…panicked. Or maybe just surprised.
Silvia hurried over to them, her smile strained as she looked between both of them—frowning at him in confusion. “Hey, Berkley. Surprised to see you here.”
“Oh, right. Ah, Silvia this is Nick Storm. My new…”
“Client.” He held out a hand for Silvia, who was clearly dressed for a date in a body-hugging caramel-colored leather skirt, black undershirt and spiked heels. He had a sister, he knew what a ‘date look’ consisted of.
Silvia gave him a polite enough smile and returned his handshake before giving Berkley a hug. “I’m here on a date. I’ll fill you in later,” she whispered before hurrying away.
Once her friend headed back through the door that led to the seating area in the courtyard, the easy camaraderie that had wrapped around them earlier during the meal was gone and the polite professional with clear walls was back in place.
Not that he blamed her. He’d been icy toward her for the last year anytime he’d seen her and it had been based on shitty information.
Info he’d had no reason to distrust… Though considering the source, maybe he needed to run his head through a brick wall.
“Clover’s taking up a couple new challenges at work so I’ll be taking point on this contract.” He’d apologize to his sister later for making this decision without telling her, but he needed to make things right with Berkley.
And the only way to do that was to work with her. Fine, he wanted to spend more time with her. Clover would understand. Probably.
“I’m surprised you have time.” There was no rancor in her tone, just honesty.
He lifted a shoulder because she wasn’t wrong. This job wasn’t something he would normally oversee. “Technically this is out of my normal scope, but I love historical homes.”
“Almost sounds like a confession,” she whispered conspiratorially.
He grinned, surprised by how at ease he was with her. “My company makes money in modern construction and I make no apologies. People need places to live and we build quality homes that will stand the test of time… But I have a soft spot for historical renovations.”
“Me too. And since you’ve apologized, I can admit that I’m obsessed with the Carmine Mansion. I did some research on the previous owner, and Bessie Carmine had an amazing reputation.”
“Did you read the rumors of how she was suspected of burying lovers in the backyard? One theory is that she paid the owner of the company who installed the pool to bury bodies underneath it.”
Her eyes widened slightly. “You researched too?”
“Her reputation is part of the reason I bought the place. I’d seen some old pictures online from the parties she used to have and the contents alone are worth preserving—and hopefully we’ll make a profit on the eventual auction.
I just couldn’t stand the thought of someone coming in and bulldozing it without thoroughly cataloguing things.
Don’t get me wrong, I want to make money, but…
I just couldn’t let this opportunity go.
And thank you for the information about that fur coat. ”
She shrugged, but gave him a half smile that sent a punch of heat to his gut.
As they talked about the history of the home, he lost track of time until their server stood by their table, pointedly, and cleared his throat. “We’re going to be closing soon, so if you’d like to pay your tab—”
“Oh my god.” Berkley glanced at her cell phone, clearly as surprised as he was by the time. “I can’t believe how late it is.”
He slipped his card to the man, who practically sprinted away before he’d even pulled his hand back.
“I feel so bad,” Berkley whispered.
“I’ll leave a bigger tip than I was planning to.”
“I’m normally in my pajamas by this time… And as I’m saying that out loud, I realize how pathetic that sounds.” But she was grinning.
He laughed at her dry tone. “Then we’re both pathetic because I am too.” And he wondered what her definition of pajamas was. Probably a lot more decent than what he was picturing—or fantasizing about.
Which he had to stop doing, he reminded himself. They were going to be working together.
By the time he’d paid, the restaurant had turned off half the lights and he heard the distinctive click of the front door lock as they stepped out onto the front patio.
She snickered as he held out her coat for her to slip on. “They certainly weren’t subtle.”
He shook his head and fell in step with her, earning a surprised look. “What?” he asked.
“What are you doing?”
“Ah, walking you to your car.”
Her frown deepened. “You don’t need to.”
He scanned the dark, nearly deserted parking lot, then back at her. “And yet I’m going to.”
She bristled slightly, but then looked around as if seeing their surroundings for the first time. “Fine.”
So maybe they were back to strictly business. He knew he wasn’t going to win her over after one dinner, but he thought he’d made progress.
When they neared her car, he hung back so he wouldn’t crowd her. “I’ll email you the contract tonight. Just redline anything you want to change.”
“Sounds good. And thanks again for dinner.” She slid into her vehicle and didn’t waste time shutting and locking her car door.
He waited until she was out of the parking lot before getting into his own truck. As he did, an SUV he hadn’t even realized was in the parking lot started up and steered out in the same direction as her.
And that was why he’d walked her to her car. The lights in this lot were bullshit. It was probably just a worker from the restaurant leaving since they were closing, but even so. No way he was letting her or any woman walk to their vehicle alone, in the dark.