Page 2 of Winning Her

Matthew chuckled. “You mean what we are cooking up,” he corrected, ignoring her refusal. “Don’t you want to help your aging father? Don’t be so difficult, Emily. Help an old man out.”

It didn’t take much pleading to get her to cave. Even though she had grown, she was still his little girl in a lot of ways, and she loved to make her father happy. His daughter had always been such a warm, loving person, so as long as he hinted that he was unhappy, she would do something to change it.

He considered himself very lucky to have had her. She was the second most important woman in his heart after he’d lost his first wife.

“As much as I love traveling to meet up with your brothers, don’t you think it would be best they come here?” he needled. “Once they’re all home, I can just relax my old bones, and they would be the ones to come to me for a change. Please, Emily.”

Of course, Matthew wasn’t as old and tired as he was trying to make himself out to be. He was getting on in years, but he still considered himself young and spry. He wasn’t even in his sixties yet, and he was retired. But there was no reason to inform her of that just yet.

She was buying his ploy, and as much as a part of him felt bad that he was practically tricking his daughter, he was glad she was willing to help him out in this.

Matthew knew he would need it.

“Fine,” Emily said with a sigh like he’d known she would. “I’ll help. But if it doesn’t go the way you plan, you’ll be on your own, Dad.”

Matthew just smiled, looking forward to having all his children together with him again. Finally.

1

Trent

I walked into the office and heads turned in my wake. I didn’t care if it was my height or my expensive suit that caught people’s eyes, but I strutted across the room like I owned the place.

In a way, I did.

I walked over to the elevator and pressed the button to go up. A few people waited for one to come down to either of my sides, and I kept facing straight ahead as they turned to each other to mutter and gossip. I didn’t bother listening to what they said. It was all the same.

They loved to talk about how I was smart, sophisticated, and savvy. That part, I loved to hear. I was totally in control of my world and my father’s empire, and I didn’t mind that people envied me for that.

The rumors I hated were the ones about how my father must have helped me get to where I was. That I’d spent all my life riding on his name and his money, instead of building up my own life and career without much of Dad’s help. None of them knew the real me, or the life I’d endured to get where I am now. Still, no matter how much I hated hearing it, I never let those emotions show.

Be in control at all times.

That was the motto I’d set up for myself, and I’d followed it just fine over the years. So what if people talked shit behind my back? I was going to show them just what my effort brought me, and I was doing it my way.

The elevator doors finally opened and I walked inside. None of the other people waiting followed me in, and after a few seconds, the doors slid shut with only me inside.

Well.

Not that it was unexpected. I was the big boss around here, and most people naturally kept out of my way. None of that stopped them from gossiping about me, though.

As I was left alone, I swept my hand through my thick, blond hair and frowned to myself as I thought about cutting it short. It got in the way when it was long enough to fall over my forehead and tickle the nape of my neck. But I was too busy with work for even a quick trip to the high-priced salon I visited to have my hair cut.

The inside of the elevator was reflective, as though the walls were made of mirrors. I’d checked myself at home, but I didn’t mind checking again. Everything had to be perfect and in place. The shined black shoes, pressed dark slacks and matching jacket, the navy-blue shirt under it and the blue and black striped tie were all perfectly in place without even a stray thread to mar the picture of perfection. I’d styled my hair away from my forehead and I pushed it back just a little more. I held my briefcase at my side, a gold diamond watch on my wrist and a small ring on my pinkie finger. I kept my right hand free of accessories because it was my dominant arm.

The elevator stopped on my floor, and I shrugged my shoulders to readjust how the jacket had settled, even though I knew it was already perfect. I strode onto the floor, heading straight for my office. There were fewer people here, but I still caught their attention.

My PA was already at her desk and working, and I gave a small nod of approval. I’d given her instructions the day she started working for me, and one of them was that she always be there earlier than me in the morning and be ready for anything I needed her to do. She stood up as I walked over to her desk, lifting a cup of take-out coffee from her desk and holding it out to me.

“Thank you, Jennifer,” I said, accepting it.

I took a sip and almost sighed at the taste. I gave another small, near imperceptible nod of approval. Like she could see it, she beamed for a moment, then schooled her face to professional politeness.

“Please patch any important calls over to me,” I instructed. “If it’s not so important, please handle it yourself.”

It was going to be a busy day, and we both knew it.

“Yes, sir,” she said with a sharp nod.