Page 110 of The Stranger

“Any changes?” Hijos de Valdés is a family concern. The board is comprised of family members. Most of whom I’ve already met. Courted, you might say.

“One of the brothers has pulled out.”

“Issues?” My gaze turns his way sharply. As the producers of some of Europe’s finest leather, I want no surprises today. What I do want is to own their operation—the workshops, their people, their connections. I plan on relaunching them as the atelier of the next must own brand. That is my plan, without deviation.

“No. Andre, the youngest brother? He’ll be joining the meeting remotely. A Family issue. One of his children is ill, I understand.”

I relax back in the seat. “I trust it’s nothing serious. Find out and send the child something appropriate.”

“Will do,” he says with a nod. The car falls quiet again, but for the noise of tires over gravel.

“Though, you know you kinda promised the brothers a good time.”

“I did what?” My attention swivels Jacque’s way. Is he fucking with me? I think as my mind jumps immediately to Ardeo.

“It’s part of your schtick, your sell. Your reputation. You’re flying them private to Barcelona, putting them up in the best hotels, getting some big-name chef to serve up the kind of dinner they’ll be talking about for years. Wines from your own vineyard, a taste of your home. It’s what you’re known for, Luc. What the group is known for. What you want the sellers aspire to. Quality, class. The fuckin’ high life.”

“Today is nothing but decoration,” I retort brusquely, despite hearing the truth in what he says. “They’re here to collect a fat check with their name on it.”

“Yeah, but⁠—”

“They want to increase production and profits without putting their homes at risk. They want their history and their artisans protected, and a flagship store in Paris with their name above the door.” I turn away. “That is what they’re here for.”

“You’re the boss.”

Like I don’t know that already. “Anything outside of that, what do you call it—the wining and dining? I’m sure you and Albert can handle,” I say, speaking of the groups’ COO.

“You want me to stay over?”

I shrug like I don’t give a fuck when the reality is, I don’t like being called out. I’m just waiting for him to say her name. “I’m sure he’ll be glad of your help.” Let them play bon vivant.

“Whatever you say.” Jacques tucks his phone away. “Can I ask something? Off-book?”

No one ever says that unless the next words are a risk. Or a stick. I glance pointedly his way, surprised when he speaks.

“What’s going on with you?

His gaze lingers on my profile longer than it should. It feels like I’m being dissected, though I know he’s banking on another brush-off. For me to remind him to watch his mouth, mind his business. For me to reestablish the narrative that I am, above all else, impenetrable. But what comes out instead is a sound I don’t recognize, a ragged noise halfway between a laugh and a cough.

His brows draw together in shock. “Luc?”

What the hell is going on with me? It feels almost as though the sound was a preventive subconscious attempt. Which is fucking ridiculous because when have I ever confided in anyone?

It’s nothing,” I mutter gruffly. I’m not sure what I’m feeling right now. Rebuffed. Confused. A bit of an asshole. But I’m not losing my mind.

“I can get a priest if you want to confess.” His offer is only half-joking.

I’d be chased out of the confessional for admitting the things I want. I glance at my thigh, where my fingers have begun drumming again. I curl them inward.

Jealousy. There’s something else I’m feeling. Fucking Alejandro. My teeth clench and my jaw flexes. It’s an entirely ordinary name for the region for an entirely ordinary man not from the region. An American, pah! What the fuck makes them so confident?

Alejandro with the nice smile and lashes like a camel. Or was that a llama? I can’t even remember his face. Just as well, or I might seek him out and shove my fist in it.

Sois pas con. Don’t be an asshole, I tell myself.

But ordinary is just another word for normal, and normal must have its advantages. A life lived with freedom. Without scrutiny, suspicion, and mistrust. The need for high walls.

Perhaps that’s where the attraction lies. He is a man who might offer her a future, not just a month of making her scream his name.