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“With her grandmother.”
“Oh, so it’s okay for her to pull in resources, but not me?”
“Quit bitching.” Beau smiles and passes, looking James up and down. “Are you going out on the water?”
He starts wrestling his arms back out of the wetsuit, going after her. “No, I’m joining this fucking meeting.”
“Yes, you are.” I narrow my eyes on my wife’s back before casting them over to Beau. “Since you have a wingman, I’ll take one too.”
“You already have Brad,” she calls back.
“For what fucking use he is,” I mutter, trudging after the girls, frowning down at my bare chest. I feel the need for a suit all of a sudden. This was supposed to be a relaxed, straight-forward meeting, and something tells me I’m going to be sorely disappointed. “So I’m taking The Enigma,” I add to myself, entering the café and seeing Rose setting up a table in the far corner. Three chairs on one side, two on the other. I smile on the inside, not the outside, at her breasts forcing against the material of her blouse. Fuck. My restrained dick twitches. Not ideal when she’s off limits. Jesus Christ, how much longer do I need to abstain? My balls are ready to burst.
I gather myself and lower to a chair slowly, eyes on Rose as she fixes a pile of papers. What the fuck is she doing? So she wants to play business? Let’s do it.
She peeks up at me. I raise my brow. She wants to smile. Won’t. She looks so fucking hot. “Okay?” I ask as she shifts in her chair.
“Never better.”
Good. So she’ll let me fuck her later. “You look a little . . .” I lick my lips, and her eyes follow my tongue. “Flustered.”
“Focus,” Beau says as she takes a seat next to Rose.
“Right, yes.” Rose rips her eyes away from me and realigns her attention on the paperwork, as Brad and James take up their seats on either side of me. The girls on one side of the table, the boys on the other. Beau clears her throat, peeking at James. He does not look happy.
“Come on, then,” Brad presses. “My jet ski’s waiting for me.”
“We’re just waiting for one more person,” Beau says, looking across the café. “Oh, here she is.” She gets up and pulls another chair over, and all three of our heads turn toward the door as Pearl hurries across the café. But she comes to a startled—very fucking suspicious—stop when she clocks Brad at the table. Her face is full of horror. Her disposition awkward as fuck. Brad’s jaw is tight, his earlier light and breezy mood turning to dust. Doesn’t matter that it was feigned. He clearly can’t keep it up in front of Pearl.
Pearl corrects herself and forces a smile as she walks calmly over and lowers quietly to the seat. “Sorry, that took longer than I expected,” she says, taking something out of her bag, a file, and sliding it across the table to Rose.
“What did?” I ask, eyes on that file.
“What the hell is going on?” James growls.
“So.” Beau straightens her shoulders. “As you know, Jaz’s estate has been dismissed from the investigation and I’m now free to sell off her assets.”
Emphasis on Jaz. She refuses to accept that woman, The Bear, was her mother.
“No, I didn’t know that,” James snaps, “because you haven’t fucking told me.” He snatches a bottle of water off the table and glugs it down.
Beau ignores him. “And Winstable is now for sale.”
“And my offer of fifteen million is on the table,” I say slowly, my eyes constantly passing between the three women. I don’t like this. It feels scarily like an ambush.
Beau nods. “A very generous offer.”
“I agree,” I say, resting my stare on my wife, certain I don’t like the look on her face. It’s between smugness and nervousness. “Advisor?” I ask.
Her lips twitch. “And competition.”
“What?”
“Rose has offered twenty million,” Beau says, making James and Brad cough and me twitch.
I glare at Rose. “What the fuck are you playing at?”
“I’m extending my business portfolio.”
