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“You’ve intrigued me, Daddy.” Vectra sighed in a mock haughty tone before she sobered. “Do you think the visit could wait until after this gallery show I’ve got coming up? I’ve got to visit the Miami gallery, anyway. I could detour and check out your spot before I do that.”
“Fantastic.” Oscar gave a single clap. He fixed her with an approving look and smile. “I see you haven’t been resting on your laurels while I was away.”
“Don’t you mean I haven’t been ‘hiding out’?”
“I didn’t say that.” Oscar shifted to a newer, more comfortable position in his chair. “But since you did, then yes. Yes, I am very glad to know that. I was concerned after talking to Oliver last night.”
“Right.” Vectra served up a rueful smile, at last realizing the true motivation behind the sudden invite to breakfast. “What, Dad? Did he tell you he was taking me to Robb’s party tonight?”
Oscar retrieved a minitablet from his inside suit coat pocket. “He may have mentioned it.”
“Daddy!”
“All right, all right, we talked about it, and just so you don’t go off trying to kill the boy, he actually stood up for you—told me he didn’t think there was anything we needed to be concerned about. You know how we get about you, baby. What you went through before...it did a number on us, too, you know?”
Vectra squeezed her father’s hand. The server returned with coffee for Oscar and tea for Vectra. She helped herself to several sips, waiting for the herbal blend to work its magic on the nerves her father and brother could so easily rattle with their overprotective natures.
Vectra didn’t hold it against them. They had every right to be protective of her after the nightmare she’d lived through. The fact that she hadn’t told them about it simply increased their tendency to worry that she’d suffer alone. She had discovered, though, that San Francisco and its surrounding areas encompassed a surprisingly small world. The Bauers were well-known. Word of her ex-boyfriend’s abuse, when he had taken to shaking her viciously during an argument in a popular restaurant, had quickly reached Oscar and Oliver.
“Daddy, I’m good. I’m doing fine, really.” She leaned in closer to him. “I only asked Olive to take me because I waited around too long before deciding I even wanted a date to the thing, and then all the good ones were taken.”
“I find that hard to believe.” Oscar scanned the dining room before looking her way again. “You and Sim seemed pretty close earlier.”
“Daddy...”
“Apologies, apologies.” Oscar raised his hands in a show of phony defense. “You know I have a soft spot for the boy. That’s one I wouldn’t mind for a son-in-law.”
“Hmm...and could that be because he has a talent for making you money?”
“No.” Oscar sounded playfully indignant and then he grinned. “Not entirely.”
He sobered, squeezing Vectra’s wrist.
“I know what a man looks like when he’s hopelessly around the bend for a woman. That’s the way Qasim Wilder looks when he looks at you.” Oscar shared his sage observation and then turned his focus toward the tablet, grinning when he found what he wanted.
“Lake Misurina, Italy,” he announced. “My hopeful retirement destination. Did you know that the last time Olympic speed skating was held on natural ice, this was the place it was held?”
“No, I—” Vectra blinked, working to fix her attention on the screen. “I didn’t know that.” She concentrated on what she was looking at, difficult given her thoughts were almost wholly centered elsewhere.
* * *
Qasim resisted the urge to order a straight shot of whiskey to chase his bacon and eggs. He watched Austin Sharpe head over to speak to his former mentor Oscar Bauer. Qasim habitually gritted his teeth when the man made a point of drawing Vectra into his arms while he chatted with her father. He’d already clenched his fists until his arms had grown numb. Unfortunately, looking away from the cozy scene across the room didn’t seem to be an option for him.
A dull ache hit his jaw when he recommitted to grinding his teeth. The sight of Austin patting Vectra’s hip promised to drain whatever restraint Qasim had lorded over his temper.
To say he had it bad for her seemed a pathetic description of how wildly his emotions raged when she was in his presence. He had a possessive nature that had always been a part of who he was. As a kid who really didn’t have much to be possessive of growing up, he had taught himself to stifle those emotions. It had been relatively easy. Growing up underprivileged, he had learned to wear the face of a kid who was anything but. That was before the hard work, which had brought success and wealth, allowed a modicum of those emotions to resurface, and he had indulged himself.
