SIX
THE LIMO RIDE back to the house was better than the one out. Might have something to do with the potency of the coffee. A new experience. One she enjoyed. Spurn offered her a second, but she didn’t feel like asking him to carry her home. Wouldn’t that be a picture for her father to enjoy?
Not very ladylike.
Seatbelts. Yeah, they were essential. Outside the restaurant, she wouldn’t go anywhere without—
Why was she laughing? The joke was… Was there a joke? Humor dwindled when the limo stopped. Home. Sobering.
Real life.
And the ultimate humiliation? Two security agents flanked the bottom of the stairs. A select over the top response from her father. Perfect.
At least he wasn’t—the front door opened and, to her horror, her father and brother came out.
“Oh my God,” she said.
Spurn unfastened the seatbelt she’d insisted he don when they left the restaurant. Oh, God, had she really…? Don’t do that. Don’t think of… anything. Replaying events only heightened her cringe. No more Irish coffee for her. Ever again.
“Wait here.”
“No!” she exclaimed, lunging over to grab Spurn’s hand before he could get out.
With, maybe—definitely—a little more urgency than required. And, yeah, she wasn’t imagining it, she was touching him. Inappropriately. Without permission.
That lack of consent hadn’t evaded his attention either. He didn’t look at her face, no, he was fixed on her hand clutching his.
“Uh…” Letting go, she cleared her throat. “Don’t go out there. Please.”
“I am not afraid of your family.”
“A dramatic confrontation in the driveway serves no one.”
“In front of Sear staff. Is that your concern? Saving face?”
“It’s beneath all of you to fight and, think about it, you and I aren’t established enough to stand up together in an argument.”
“Gia—”
“Please, Mr. Spurn. Please.”
The last thing she wanted was a fight, especially one that would expose them as frauds. If Spurn got embarrassed out there or their stories didn’t match, he could pull his funding for Shanna’s search.
Rather than object, he adjusted his view with a slight hint of intrigue.
“Quid pro quo,” he said, tracing her jaw with the vaguest of touches. “Our relationship requires give before there’s take.”
“Another deal,” she said, sensing him draw nearer as she herself leaned in. “Stay here.”
“Quid always comes first,” he said, easing her closer and tilting his head to touch his mouth to hers.
A kiss. Not a long one, not a passionate one, a mere joining of loose lips.
But it was still a kiss. More intimate than a familial kiss, less intimate than one lovers would share.
Their first kiss. An achievement. They’d conquered a looming peak.
The band-aid was off. Good thing too. Lying wasn’t her forte.
At least now she could say they had some kind of relationship, even if it was a transactional one.
When he broke the kiss, his hand remained curled by her jaw.
“Are these windows tinted?” she asked.
“They know what we’re doing.”
“Glad someone does,” she murmured, far too eager to taste his mouth again.
This wasn’t meant to be a sexual arrangement yet kissing him provoked thoughts of more. It felt natural, it felt good… maybe too good.
When he eased back, she mirrored his move, following his lead. All cool, nothing to see… or fantasize about.
“Out you get, Irish.”
By taking his phone from his pocket, he dismissed her. Work. He conducted business in the car. Right.
Family. Father. Brother. Fun times.
The side door opened and she gasped, fearing her father was about to launch himself at them. Thank God Spurn’s driver was the one holding the door.
Steeling herself, Gia climbed out, holding momentary eye contact with Elton. There was no putting this off. Facing her father was inevitable.
Drama in the driveway would be mortifying.
Thankfully, her father and brother allowed her to pass between them and remained on her heels as they went inside.
Far as she could tell the security guys stayed outside.
Nice. What did her father think? That Spurn would pee in the fountain or graffiti the garage?
“You’re not going to explain yourself?” her father demanded, at her side on the staircase as they ascended. “Was he too afraid to face us?”
“He said he would meet with you later in the week,” she said. By then, they might have more of a clue how to sell this to their family and friends. “I asked him to stay in the car tonight. I didn’t want you to make a spectacle of yourself.”
“I beg your pardon? You expect us to accept this betrayal?”
Gia went into her bedroom. Before she could close the door, her father put himself in the way of it. And there was Bram never far behind.
“It’s not a betrayal,” she said. “We don’t discuss business.”
“He must have a reason for this,” her father said to Bram, turning his back to the door, holding it open. “Once he learns she knows nothing about the business, he’ll finish it.”
Bram scoffed. “After what damage has been done? We’ll be a laughingstock! Her charity shit already makes her a weirdo, and she’s shunned some damn good guys to open her legs for this schmuck.”
“Bram!” Offense was pretty obvious. Spurn’s insults weren’t usually so explicit. “There’s no need for name calling.”
“Well, have you?” her brother asked, folding his arms, edging closer to the threshold of her room until only their father separated them. “You have, right? You’ve slept with him.”
She was in contract and hated lying. Break one or take a shot at the other?
Eenie meanie…
“That’s none of your business.”
Good. Neither.
Project confidence. One proverbial eye peek, was it working?
Bram threw up his hands, probably interpreting her discomfort as confirmation.
Good job, Gia.
“Damn it!” Bram exclaimed and appealed to their father. “How can we hold our heads up in negotiations with him now?”
Ignoring her brother’s puffing, she asked, “Where’s Mom?”
Not that she expected her mom to be in her corner. Deference to men was acquired by osmosis from someone.
“Bed,” her father said. “Thank God she doesn’t have to witness this travesty. We should have been keeping a closer eye on you.”
“I’m an adult, Daddy. You can’t ground me or choose my friends.”
“I can while you live in this house.”
Gia couldn’t make any declarations of love. Defending her non-existent relationship could create cracks that would widen later. In eight weeks, Spurn would be out of her life. Her family wasn’t going anywhere. What credibility would she have left then?
“Will you talk to him, please?” she said. Spurn was better positioned to argue with her father. He had more practice, which was a shocking admission given she lived with the man. Her father, not Spurn. “What he and I have is nothing to do with your business.”
Was she lying? Business shouldn’t come into it. Maybe Spurn wanted to destabilize the Sears and there he was succeeding, presence not required.
He’d assured her he had no personal vendetta against her family and had avoided confrontation at her behest. Was this naiveté? Gullibility? Was she assuming too much of a man she barely knew?
Motivation should feature high on the topic-of-conversation list the next time they met.
“You need to sleep on this,” her father said, holding up a stern finger, “we all do.” He took a slow breath. “You have disappointed me, Gianna. Disappointed me greatly.”
That was never a nice thing to hear. Her father and brother departed, close as could be, striding away from her room, sharing their secret whispers.
She’d never been close to her mother either. When witnessing the three of them together, she often was the odd one out. What would it be like to be inside the circle of trust? She didn’t have a ruthless heart worthy of business. That didn’t mean she wouldn’t like to be included sometimes.
Given her relationship with Spurn, that possibility seemed further away than ever.