Chapter 3
NATE
Once in a blue moon, I had a good morning. I generally didn’t trust optimism, but I’d woken up to an email from Emma, and seeing her name on my screen first thing had put me in a great mood.
I’d rolled over and grabbed my phone to check the time, but instead, I’d found a long-winded message from her. One of those stream of consciousness emails I loved receiving so much, but only when she was the sender.
Among other things, she’d written that she was going on a work trip and really didn’t want to go. Apparently, she wished we could just run away together instead. Go someplace warm and quiet with a terrible Wi-Fi signal and zero responsibilities.
A slow smile had pulled at my mouth as I’d typed back that we could. Any time. Any place. I’d do it.
It wasn’t the first time I’d told her that, and every time I said it, it felt true in the moment, bone-deep and reckless, but I also knew better.
This relationship existed between cyberspace and reality.
It was probably only perfect because it was contained, untouched by logistics, daily irritations, and the inevitable erosion that came with two lives trying to merge into one.
Still, the thought of running away with her had lingered like a pleasant lie I had no intention of correcting.
Once I’d gotten to the office, things had continued progressing smoothly. Every one of my meetings had gone well.
Portfolio adjustments landed without resistance, two new investors signed preliminary agreements, and a client who normally treated financial advisors like disposable assistants actually thanked me for my time.
By noon, I was even only on my second cup of coffee, which bordered on supernatural in my world.
My inbox remained manageable. My calendar wasn’t trying to assassinate me. It was, objectively, an excellent day, but it collapsed the second I walked into the conference room.
My sister-in-law, Jane, had sent lunch over, courtesy of Thayer Steelworks, which meant it was food worth pausing for. I grabbed a to-go container from reception and headed toward the main conference room.
Alex and Will, our brother and COO, usually commandeered the long table for midday strategy sessions and we were due for one today.
I pushed the door open, already loosening my tie and about to ask what crisis we were solving over grilled chicken and expensive salads when I suddenly stopped. My entire body went dead still.
A fiery, red-headed woman took up the chair at the foot of the table. The one where I usually sat, and she didn’t even glance up at first. She was scrolling through something on her tablet, her hair spilling over the back of my chair like it was staging a hostile takeover of the furniture.
Kate fucking Vanderhaul.
Alex was seated at the head of the table in his usual spot, and he looked up as the door swung shut behind me, immediately catching my expression. The corners of his mouth twitched with poorly disguised amusement. He waved toward our guest like she was here on his personal invitation.
“Nate,” he said cheerfully. “You remember Kate Vanderhaul from Vanderhaul & Marksmith, don’t you?”
Kate finally lifted her gaze. Her dark hazel eyes locked onto mine with an unmistakable challenge. One perfectly groomed brow arched like she was daring me to pretend we’d never met.
“I’ve been trying to forget,” I muttered.
Will coughed into his drink, laughter suppression for sure. I moved toward the table, but every damn step felt like a mile. I dropped into the chair beside Alex instead, deliberately pulling the to-go box toward myself like the food might serve as emotional armor.
Across from me, Kate set her tablet down with surgical precision, her mouth curving into a smile that suggested she found me deeply entertaining, but I ignored her and opened my lunch container, focusing on the chicken.
Alex launched into the briefing with the same calm tone he used these days when he was about to propose something ludicrous. I was getting used to it.
“We’re moving forward with the Hinds acquisition,” he said firmly, which wasn’t a surprise at all. “You should all know from the get-go that it could make us obscenely rich or it could shatter the company completely.”
I sighed, but under Alex’s leadership, Westwood and Sons had never done safe.
We did calculated, high stakes, and occasionally terrifying.
So far, every risk had paid off in a big way, though, which made it hard to argue with anything he proposed, so just I nodded, already shifting into numbers mode.
While mentally mapping risk buffers and exit strategies if things collapsed spectacularly, I also wondered why the fuck Kate was in the room for this. I just didn’t ask because I knew he would get there. Plus, I didn’t want her to think I cared about her at all.
“We’ve partnered with smaller firms before,” he said. “That part isn’t new, but we’re considering a different structure this time.”
I looked up and frowned, still not saying a word.
Alex met my gaze, explaining without having to be asked to do it. “This isn’t a standard acquisition. Hinds has made it clear that he won’t consider any offer that doesn’t meet his conditions.”
Right. He probably wants an acquisition bid that looks less like conquest and more like succession planning. Complicated but manageable.
“To do that, we’ll need partners,” Alex said. “Especially if we want to keep his business running, which we do.”
“Hinds is one of the wealthiest men in the world.” Will took over from Alex. “The catch is that he’s single with no kids and no wife. In short, he’s an eternal bachelor with a list of strings attached to selling his business that Alex and Zach are still trying to figure out.”
“Once we do, we’re putting all our eggs in one basket.” Alex steepled his fingers as I absorbed what he’d said, trying to calculate the scale of our exposure. “Vanderhaul & Marksmith will be included in the partnership to acquire Hinds’ company.”
Of fucking course. That’s why she’s here. I kept eating, deliberately neutral, like this was routine instead of a sabotage of my peace.
“You’ll be working directly with Kate,” Alex said to me. “For at least the next three weeks, but possibly longer. We need a full investigation into Hinds’ business financials before we submit a bid, and both firms need to align on strategy.”
I chewed slowly, swallowed, took a sip of water, and said absolutely nothing. While I was used to his crazy schemes, I wasn’t used to being told I had to work with someone I detested for the next few weeks, but I wouldn’t refuse to work with her either.
Acquisitions often required partnerships. Especially if we wanted to keep the business in question running, which in this case, we obviously did. It wouldn’t matter that I couldn’t stand her. I would have to set my personal feelings aside and just get on with it.
As if trying to prove that she could do exactly what I’d just realized we would have to do, Kate slid seamlessly into the conversation.
“Our firm already has twenty years of financial history with Hinds. We can provide long-term behavioral patterns and risk tolerance metrics that could strengthen the bid.”
She was smart. That was unquestionable. I’d known it the first time I’d met her. Sharp, precise, and clearly fluent in the language of acquisitions.
Hell, I’d even heard rumors that she’d worked on the floor of the stock exchange for several years—a job that sounded like psychological warfare disguised as employment to me. I couldn’t imagine voluntarily subjecting myself to that level of chaos, but apparently, she had.
She smiled coolly. “If we coordinate our efforts early on, it increases the likelihood that Hinds will sign with us before competing consortiums have even finalized their offers.”
“She’s right,” Alex said easily.
I didn’t disagree, even if I hated that I had no reason to. Both of them were right. Un-fucking-fortunately.
The conversation shifted into timelines, data-sharing protocols, and preliminary-valuation frameworks. I listened but avoided eye contact with her like her snarky self-righteousness was contagious.
Alex looked between me and her when Will had finished summarizing his part of the strategy. “You’re going to have to come up with a stellar bid, guys.”
Will suddenly leaned forward, grinning at me like he’d just discovered a new hobby. “I think you’ll get along. What a great team. Nate and Kate. Natey and Katey.”
I looked over at him and scowled. “Shut up before I start calling you Willie.”
The room went quiet for half a beat before Alex cleared his throat, pretending he wasn’t entertained by the fact that those were the first words I’d spoken in this meeting.
I caught Kate looking at me as I turned toward my oldest brother, and there was the faintest hint of a smile tugging at her mouth too, something between amusement and being impressed, kind of like she appreciated the lack of diplomacy.
The moment our eyes met, however, it vanished.
Her expression reset instantly into polished stone, her gaze dropping back to her tablet like the reaction had never existed.
I stared at her for a second longer, suddenly aware that this partnership was going to be less about strategy and more about survival.
“I have a lot of work to do if you’re serious about this stunt,” I said, closing my lunch container and standing up. “Excuse me.”
Alex nodded like I was being entirely reasonable. Will looked like he wanted to say something else that would undoubtedly have been incredibly unhelpful, but Kate didn’t even look up from her tablet.
Thank God for small mercies.
I headed back to my office before anyone could stop me, and as soon as I’d walked in, I shut the door, drew the blinds, and slid out of my jacket.
The city hummed faintly beyond the glass, but the noise was muted and distant, which was exactly how I preferred my interactions with the world at large.
As I opened my laptop, I was already mentally compiling task lists. If Alex was going to gamble the company on Abram Hinds, I intended to know every decimal point before we placed the bet. Ten minutes later, I was interrupted by a knock on the door.
I sighed, not ever happy with an unexpected intrusion, but my concentration was shot now anyway. “Come in.”
The door opened and I glanced toward it just in time to see Kate Vanderhaul stride in with her bag hanging from a strap over her shoulder.
She shut the door behind her and crossed the room without hesitation, dropping into one of the chairs at the small table in the corner where I took private meetings.
I frowned at her. “What are you doing?”
“Oh, we’re sharing this office now,” she said pointedly, flipping her hair over her shoulder. She pulled a laptop out of her bag and opened it up in front of her.
The movement sent a wave of citrus and vanilla drifting across the room, the scent clean, warm, and unbelievably distracting. Her hair fell in thick, glossy waves down her back and she tucked a strand behind her ear, then immediately adjusted it again like it required constant supervision.
It got in the way. She was always touching it and it drove me absolutely fucking nuts, but at the same time, some deeply irrational part of my brain wondered what it would feel like to run my fingers through it.
“Your brother said it would be a good idea,” she said. “Otherwise, you’ll apparently avoid me like the plague. I wouldn’t mind that, but Alex seemed to think this would make sense, considering that we actually really do need to work together.”
My jaw flexed, my teeth grinding just enough to register the pressure. God, I hated this girl so much, but it looked like the universe—and Alex—were dead set on throwing her at me wherever I went. I just could not, for the life of me, figure out exactly why that was.