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“Really? Who’s the deal with?”
He flexed his fingers, reluctant to impart the details with her of all people. At least not until it was a done deal. It seemed like bad luck, not to mention potentially humiliating if for some reason this deal didn’t happen. But she would probably find out soon, so may as well get it over with. “Dick Eastman and I have been negotiating for months on a contract to build four new car dealerships for Eastman Motors and the new Eastman shopping district down in Provo.”
“Dick Eastman? My almost father-in-law Dick Eastman?” She visibly shuddered. “I suppose congratulations are in order. I’m sure that must be a great opportunity. Only…” She stopped, wrestling with something.
“Only what?” Did she not think he was good enough, that Sorensen Construction was not good enough for the likes of the Eastmans? As quickly as he thought of that, he dismissed it. He knew his company and its capabilities. Payton’s reluctance seemed to stem from something else.
“Well, I’m guessing you’ve met the man by now. You should have some idea what I mean. He’s a controlling, manipulative, sexist pig.”
“Who up until yesterday was going to be your father-in-law,” he added incredulously. “You didn’t mind then.”
“That is the brightest silver lining in this whole thing. The way that man uses people, his son included, is disgusting.” This time she looked at him, meeting his gaze. “I’m sorry. I am sure this will be great in a business sense for your company. I’d just make sure you’re going into it with your eyes wide open.”
“Your concern is duly noted, but I think I can handle Dick Eastman. As far as I’m concerned, this deal is going to give Sorensen Construction the opportunity to become a more recognizable name, which will have far wider benefits than just this contract.”
She shrugged. “Just glad it’s you and not me. I always got the impression he was looking at me more for my gene pool, for what I could pass onto the next generation of Eastmans than any happiness I might give his son.”
He could see it. Dick was definitely more old school than Cruz liked—more caveman-esque—but it wasn’t like he was joining the family. Wasn’t going to be marrying a sister or a daughter. It was business. That was all.
But it did give him a little more insight into Payton Vaughn. Made him a little more sympathetic. It seemed that in her eyes, the only value she’d been made to feel in her twenty-nine years, was in the parties she hosted, the people she rubbed shoulders with, and the man and family she could marry into. Whether he was a cheating, lying bastard or not.
At least she was finally standing up for herself. Finding her own value, which, from where she was coming from, was pretty amazing. Admirable even…
After ten minutes of listening to Cruz’s fingers click across the keyboard, Payton reached over and flipped the radio back on. “Is this going to bother you?”
“I can work through anything. Just keep your attention on the road.”
“Yes, Dad,” she said in a singsong voice. Jeez. He needed to loosen up.
She hazarded a quick peek at her companion. Even without a change in clothes or access to his own toiletries he looked…pretty damn good. The shadow around his jaw was dark and pronounced, and combined with those wicked brown eyes that looked at her with an intensity that always made her feel a little uncomfortable, he was sinfully sexy. His shirt might not be as crisp as it was yesterday, but with the sleeves rolled up above his forearms—which had dark, wispy hair curled nicely against his tanned, warm skin—he still managed to maintain a presence. One that had had the front desk attendant at the hotel almost in a puddle at his feet.
It wasn’t like Payton hadn’t noticed Cruz’s dangerous good looks when she’d first seen him. But after she overheard him insulting her, sight unseen, it had been easier to envision some added horns and a tail making him a caricature of pure evil. It was easier to loath and dismiss him as a jerk, because then she could ignore the fact that being near him set her blood boiling in more ways than one.
But now, with their new and tentative truce, and his surprisingly supportive demeanor over the past few hours, it was harder for her to put up her usual blockers where he was concerned. Which could get dangerous.
Couldn’t he at least have BO? Or flat and greasy hair? But no, he smelled decidedly masculine in the close quarters of the car, something like incense and leather. Dark. And of course his hair was lustrous. Almost disgustingly so.
Gah. She needed to clear her head. Where was a familiar tune to sing to?
She didn’t know any of these songs. It was a road trip. They needed tunes. Okay, she needed tunes. It was just how it was done.
“Hey, do you have any music on that phone of yours? I think this car can sync with your phone’s Bluetooth, if you have something worth listening to.”
“No.” He continued to click away at the keyboard.
“No, seriously. I won’t critique it—well, not too much. But I need something I can sing to.”
“I don’t keep music on my phone,” he said matter-of-factly.
What? She shot him a disbelieving look.
“Eyes on the road,” he reminded her, without taking his attention off the laptop screen.
“You’re kidding me, right? You’ve got to have something.”
He shrugged. “Never had a need for it. My phone is for making calls and texts and for sending and receiving emails when I can’t be on the computer. Those are the only reasons I need a phone. If I wanted to listen to music, I’d buy a radio.”
“You know, for a guy who can’t be more than…forty—”
