Gavin nodded. It wasn’t a particularly difficult guess. Even though Jacob was the better-looking one, both of them displayed their Italian heritage, whereas Ethan was a blond carbon copy of their father.
“This way, please,” she said, and led him into a hall.
The conference room had bagels, donuts, cubed melon and pineapples, smoked salmon and various types of cheese, plus coffee, tea and three types of fruit juice. Gavin felt the skin between his eyebrows tighten. Did anybody have any idea how bad of a shape the company was in?
He helped himself to a cup of coffee and a few slices of the salmon. He was the first one in and had ample time to settle down in his seat, designated as such with a name-plate.
Soon TLD executives in good suits and even better shoes started filing in. A few came by to say hello, but he barely acknowledged them. Instead, he pretended to be checking something on his tablet and observed the executives surreptitiously.
All of them had the right degrees, background and connections. They all played golf at the same country club—one he knew that Jacob belonged to. Their young, nubile wives played tennis whenever Catherine was in the mood. They spoke a bit too loudly, their manners somewhat exaggerated, like actors uncertain on their stage.
Jacob, what the hell were you thinking? These men looked as expensive as a diamond necklace, but far less bright. Gavin wouldn’t have hired them to run a copier, much less a multi-million dollar company.
Ethan arrived soon after everyone had taken their seats. The chest and shoulders he’d developed during his bodybuilding
years mandated that he have all his suits custom-tailored. That size, plus the serious expression on his face, gave him quite a bit of presence as he took the seat at the head of the table. He was accompanied by a gorgeous redhead with knife-like eyes and an unfriendly mouth. The woman sat down on his right.
Interesting.
Gavin settled back and let his older brother and his…whatever…run the show.
* * *
Amandine fidgeted in her chair, a cup of hot chocolate steaming on the table in front of her. The café wasn’t crowded at this time of the day. The morning rush had passed, and the lunch crowd wouldn’t show for at least another hour. She fingered an earring, then dropped her hand with a sigh. Why was she so nervous? She just needed to talk to Pete face-to-face. And better to do it sooner rather than later. Hopefully he wasn’t still mad about the possibility of her divorcing Gavin.
Pete came in, right on time, dressed in a dark charcoal suit. His suits weren’t tailored—probably didn’t make enough to do that yet—but she smiled to see how he was emulating Gavin in so many ways. She knew it was her younger brother’s life goal to have the same money and success as her husband.
He got the largest-sized cappuccino and joined her. “You look good.”
“Thanks.” She’d taken care that morning, putting on a peach-colored Chanel raw silk sheath dress and matching sandals. The café was close to the firm, and there was no telling who might have come in. “So do you.”
Pete stared into his drink, then at hers, then out the café window. Finally his gaze settled on her face. “Hey, look… I’m sorry. I’ve been a total jackass.”
Well. That was unexpected. “Don’t worry about it. You were probably just shocked.”
“I was. I thought…” He chewed his lower lip, looking at her from under furrowed eyebrows. “Aren’t you happy with Gavin?”
“I love him so much that there are times my heart aches. But…it’s not that simple.”
“I’m listening.”
“He doesn’t love me. Not the way I need to be loved.”
Pete closed his eyes. “Jesus.” He took a couple of big gulps of his drink. “You’re still hung up on that fantasy you have about Mom and Dad, aren’t you?”
“I know you didn’t like Dad, but he loved Mom.”
“He loved the fact that he had a woman willing to put up with his bullshit. Telling her ‘I love you’ was a small price to pay.”
“Pete!”
“C’mon, Amandine. I know guys who use that line with every single girl they meet. For some weird reason, women just fall apart when a man says the L-word. But those guys…” He swore. “They don’t love the women they’re saying I love you to. Once they’re done playing in the girls’ panties, they’re outta there. Gone.” He snapped his fingers.
“Good god.”
“You’re lucky because you’ve never met an asshole like that. And maybe a little naïve.” Pete finished his cappuccino. “It’s easy to tell a woman you love her, but the follow-through is tougher. You gotta provide for her, make sure she never lacks anything, that she’s happy, cared for… It’s hard, and that’s why men—well, the ones who are worth a damn, anyway—won’t make that kind of commitment lightly.”
Amandine blinked. Of all the things she’d expected Pete to say, this wasn’t one of them. When had her little brother matured so much?