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Dane didn’t arrive alone. The ideas were mostly Cammie’s, so of course she had to be there. That was never a question in his mind.
As Dane and Cammie prepared to leave for the San Francisco meeting, Fernsby had appeared. “Sir, I should go.”
Dane had said as sternly as the butler himself, “Fernsby, you’re not going. You’re staying here to take care of Rex.”
The man had stubbornly gone on. “I can make tea. And I’ve been baking.”
That got Dane’s attention. “What did you bake?”
Fernsby didn’t smile. He never smiled. But his eyes glinted. “You’ll find out when I bring it into the meeting.”
So Fernsby had come along too.
Over the three weeks since Cammie had returned, they’d worked tirelessly on the proposal, refining each of her ideas, researching, adding details, taking to Harper and other experts. And today they would present their plan to the Mavericks.
His brothers and sisters were already approaching the Mavericks with their own ideas. Ava had lunch with Paige. Troy met with Matt. Clay had gone to Sebastian. Plans were already in motion to bring each of their specialties together. He’d talked extensively with each of them during late-night calls, discussed the details, and they’d all signed off on the first special needs resort.
Now, he and Cammie just had to convince the Mavericks. He had full confidence that Cammie could pull it off. She didn’t even need him. That’s how committed she was. Even if the Mavericks had no interest, the resort would happen. It was the most ambitious project of his career. And over the past three weeks, it had become the most important.
Dane had barely taken a seat facing the Mavericks, with Cammie beside him, when Fernsby rolled in his tea trolley.
“Gentlemen and lady.” He nodded to Cammie. “I have tea, coffee, water, juice. What is your pleasure?”
For a long moment, the Mavericks were too stunned to answer. Then suddenly they were all calling out their orders. With each cup he served, Fernsby offered his plate of baked goods.
Of course he’d made all Dane’s favorites, and without even asking, Fernsby served him a Bakewell tart, while Cammie received a butter tart.
Sebastian turned to Evan, a frown pulling at his eyebrows. “Why don’t we have someone like him?” They’d all experienced Fernsby at the soccer game, but here, in the office, his service could truly be appreciated.
Will stroked his chin. “Fernsby, what can I pay you to work for me instead of Dane?”
Fernsby tipped his nose, almost as though he smelled something bad. “A very kind offer, sir. But you can’t afford me.”
Each of the Mavericks could afford him ten times over. But none had a comeback.
Cal bit into a Bakewell tart and groaned.
Daniel glared at him. “Jesus, you’re with my sister. We don’t need to hear what it’s like when you’re in bed.”
Cal’s lips twitched with a smile as he continued making what Dane considered a rather sexual noise. “I first tasted Fernsby’s specialties in London,” Cal said between lascivious groans. Then he smiled. “Ah, London, the best trip of my life. Changed my entire world.”
Daniel damn near growled. “You’re going to need to eat that outside, then. Or I might have to beat the crap out of you. Again.”
Dane hadn’t been there, but he’d heard all about that infamous fight when Daniel had learned Lyssa was pregnant with Cal’s baby. They weren’t married. No one had even known they were seeing each other. But Dane had seen a spark between them when they visited him in London.
“Yeah,” Will said. “You totally lost your mind that day, Daniel. We had to wash the blood off the deck at Mom and Dad’s. And I never got to eat my steak.”
“I still have the emotional scars,” Cal said with a straight face.
Daniel narrowed his eyes. “You deserve them for seducing our little sister behind our backs.” His face stretched in a rictus of a grin, teeth bared. “But since she adores you, I’ve had to be magnanimous and forgive you.”
Sebastian got in on the fun. “Can we get back to important things, like how damn good these tarts are?” He turned to Fernsby. “You’re freaking amazing.”
Naturally, Fernsby didn’t crack a smile, not even a slight lift of his eyebrows. “That’s very kind of you, sir, to appreciate my baking.”
Cammie glanced at Fernsby, smiling. “Fernsby has applied to Britain’s Greatest Bakers. He’s waiting to hear back.”
Fernsby inclined his head slightly, as if he were royalty. Then he bowed his way out of the room, closing the door behind him.
“I remember hearing something about that when we were in London,” Cal said, indicating Dane with a jut of his chin.
“He’s been trying to get on a baking show forever,” Dane explained.
“He really has a shot this time.” Cammie backed him up. “The tarts are amazing. The best I’ve tasted yet.”
