FIVE #2
“Both,” he said. “The purpose of what we’re doing is to make others believe we’re together. I should be able to talk about you with some authority.”
So the question was functional not personal interest?
“How do we plan to sell this?” she asked. “Who have you told about our deal?”
“Julius knows everything. Carver’s aware. Others, including Jenna, my assistant, have been led to believe we may have been seeing each other in secret for a while.”
“If we’ve chosen now to go public with our relationship, we must be serious about each other, see a future,” she said. What an odd conversation. She shook her head. “My family won’t believe it.”
“Of course they will,” he said. “You’ll make them believe it.”
“When would we have seen each other? When would—”
“You said yourself that Bram is out most nights. I assume when your father is not entertaining your mother that he too spends time at the office. We’ve managed to be together tonight without anyone knowing our plans.”
Glancing around the room, she acknowledged the looks they drew from other tables. “I think people know our plans… this won’t go unnoticed.”
“Good. Given my history with your family, we wouldn’t have conducted the initial stages of our relationship in public. Our presence here alone is doing half the work for you. We wouldn’t move from private to public until we were sure this was something we wanted to pursue.”
Which was pretty much what she just said.
“The world at large will believe we’re in a serious relationship,” she said, putting her cutlery together on her plate. “That we’ve had sex.”
Typical that moment should be the one he chose to pin his eyes on hers.
They’d almost met in the back of the limo earlier.
Almost. Spurn spent the majority of the journey on calls or talking to the driver.
Elton was his name, she’d learned that. There had been no need to look Spurn in the eye or imagine intimacy with him.
Sitting there, looking into him, even in spite of the table between them, she got a chill at the idea of him moving inside her.
The trill of her cellphone startled the moment.
Still, it took a second to tear her eyes away and open her clutch to read the screen. Ah, Daddy, perfectly on cue.
“It’s rude to answer your phone at the table,” Spurn said.
Was that his way of issuing a command?
She turned it toward him. “It’s my father.”
“Answer it.”
Doing as told, she swiped the screen and raised the phone to her ear. “Daddy?”
“Tell me this is a joke,” he bellowed down the line. “That this is some kind of sick joke you’re playing because I didn’t buy you a pony when you were a kid.”
“I never wanted a pony, Dad, and no,” she said, touching the edge of her plate. “This is not a joke.”
“You’re at dinner with him? Right now?”
Glancing up, Spurn watched her, prompting her to drop her gaze again. “Yes.”
“And now we know how he won the Lang deal.”
Something she had no clue about? Yeah, she was a mole. Didn’t take long for accusations to fly. Credit for sneaky was more credit than he’d ever given her in the past.
“Daddy, I—”
“Put him on the phone,” her father demanded.
Should she be terrified or relieved? Definitely the former.
“No.” A word her father rarely heard from anyone, and probably never from her. “I can’t.”
Her father scoffed. “Gianna Sear you will put that man on the phone now. You do not say no to me.”
No, she didn’t, and yet…
“You can’t talk to him,” she said. “You can’t.”
Movement opposite attracted her focus to her dinner-mate.
Spurn’s hand was open, hovering halfway across the table. “Give it to me,” he said.
His calm was impressive, though why wouldn’t he be chill? It wasn’t his family poised to implode. Her father was going off in her ear, ranting, shouting, raving. She drew on some of Spurn’s composure and lowered the phone.
“I don’t know what he’ll say.”
“It’s not your job to protect me, Gianna.”
And what choice did she have? Putting the phone in Spurn’s hand, she followed orders.
“Only my father calls me Gianna,” she whispered, “and he only does it when he’s mad. Gia, only call me Gia.”
He nodded once and her hand slid away. Her pounding heart shook the walls. These men knew each other from the boardroom, from opposing each other, competing.
This was different. This was personal.
Spurn lingered before speaking. “Conway,” he said, his voice somehow deeper and more impatient.
Transfixed, her pulse got louder. He was together, almost serene.
This was just another inconvenient moment in his day.
“Your daughter and I are consenting adults… There’s no need to discuss those details. ”
“Details?” she mouthed.
Spurn didn’t respond. Did he even see her?
Her question was a stupid question anyway, because really, on the heels of “consenting adults” her father could only be asking about one thing: sex.
“After dinner,” Spurn said. “I do… That is not the case… As planned.” Spurn hung up the phone and gave it back. “Would you like dessert?”
That was it?
“Dessert?” Astounded, she put the phone away. “What did he say?”
“We’ll meet in the week,” he said. “I told him I would bring you home after dinner.”
Reading between the lines, her father more likely demanded Spurn bring her home that minute. Spurn wouldn’t capitulate to her father’s command. Doubtful he’d capitulate to anyone. Damn, was that her respect for him growing?
What would it be like to never have to apologize for just being yourself?
Inspiration fired her audacity.
“Irish coffee?” she asked before she could talk herself out of it. His surprise was so instant that he had no time to restrain his smile. “My mother says it’s not ladylike.”
“Irish coffee it is,” he said and summoned a server.
This was strange. She couldn’t figure him out. Business wasn’t her business. Other than animosity, she had no idea of the corporate relationship between Spurn Global and Sear Incorporated.
Her family’s opinions didn’t always gel with hers.
Knowing that, she had to draw her own conclusions about Brogan Spurn.
Why had she believed otherwise? Suspicion would stay high.
She wasn’t dumb enough to believe he didn’t have motive for this farce.
Many motives, maybe. Speculation wouldn’t get her anywhere.
As long as she was in this relationship, she would live it one minute at a time.