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The head designer wouldn’t be happy that Olivia had hired someone else to design the new line. But she had to do what was best for the company. With sales declining, French Kiss needed fresh blood and new ideas. Babette seemed to have both and had convinced Olivia that adding a collection of men’s underwear was the way to save the company from the brink of bankruptcy.
“Samuel will go along with what’s best for the company,” Olivia said.
Her mother released an exasperated huff. “I cannot understand why you continue to care about the business. And now you’ve talked me into selling the house and investing in your crazy scheme when I should sell it and retire to the French Riviera. And just so you know, I hate having complete strangers trooping through my home at all hours of the day and night.”
“They’re called real estate brokers and prospective buyers, Mother,” Olivia said, “and you don’t have to be there when the house is shown. The broker selling my house calls beforehand.”
“And just where are we going to live if the houses sell at the same time?”
“We’ll rent an apartment downtown. And it won’t be for long. I’m going to get the money from the sale of the house back to you as soon as Babette’s new line starts selling.” Unless it didn’t sell, in which case they would both be in big trouble. “So has Babette been working?”
Deirdre snorted. “Not that I can tell. She spends most of her time in the guest wing eating my imported Swiss chocolate and watching the past seasons of Downton Abbey on demand.”
Olivia really wanted to yell at her mother to light a fire under Babette’s tight French ass. But it wasn’t her mother’s job to keep Babette on task. Olivia was lucky that Deirdre had been willing to keep an eye on the annoying Frenchwoman while she was in Louisiana. Until the new line was finished, Olivia didn’t want anyone knowing about her plans.
“So did you find the Beaumont brothers?” Deirdre asked.
“Yes.” She glanced at the house. “And I don’t think that they’re doing much better than they were when they came to visit years ago.”
“That was certainly a surprise. I didn’t even know Michael had a brother until the ghastly man showed up with his three delinquent sons. Of course Michael never talked about his past…or talked much period.”
Olivia’s stepfather had been a man of few words. Which had worked nicely for an introverted nine-year-old afraid of her own shadow. Michael’s silence and stability had been a welcome relief from her mother’s constant chatter and unreliability. After her father ran off without a word, Michael was the strong, reliable father figure Olivia craved, and he didn’t seem to mind her tagging along behind him, or spending every possible second she could at the corporate offices of French Kiss. She had always struggled in school with her attention deficit disorder, and the company and Michael became her entire world. And when she went off to college, she followed in Michael’s footsteps, majoring in business and marketing, even though she was more interested in design. After college she’d worked side by side with Michael on every new line, marketing idea, and store opening.
Michael was the one person who had known how much French Kiss meant to her. Which was why she couldn’t understand how he could have willed it to three men who had never set foot inside French Kiss’s doors. Three men he didn’t know or love. And maybe he hadn’t loved her either. Maybe it had all been wishful thinking.
The slam of a screen door pulled her out of her thoughts, and she quickly finished the call. “Listen, I have to go. Try not to kill Babette.”
“You ask too much,” her mother said dryly.
Olivia hung up just as Deacon came around the corner of the house. After his shower he had changed into a blue T-shirt that hugged his muscles and a pair of faded jeans that hugged his…
“Do you always stare at men’s crotches?”
Her gaze lifted to Deacon’s annoyed eyes. Between the sapphire-blue shirt and azure sky, they looked even more purple. “What color would you say your eyes are?”
He squinted. “Is something wrong with you? Do you have a hearing problem? I ask you if you always stare at men’s crotches and you answer by talking about the color of my eyes.”
“I’d say indigo—somewhere between a deep blue and dark purple.” She pulled her gaze away from his eyes and looked down. “And me looking at your crotch is strictly business. I’m planning on starting a new line of men’s underwear.”
“Right.” He held out his hand. “I’m assuming you’re done with my phone.”
She handed him the phone. “It’s slimmer than mine. Did you just buy it?”
“Let me guess. You thought my cell phone would be the size of a sneaker.” He slipped the phone into his back pocket. “Obviously you’re still the same stuck-up little rich girl you were at fourteen.”
She had never been stuck up, just terrified and jealous of the three brothers who had shown up on her doorstep. They had come into Michael’s mansion like a whirlwind of burping, roughhousing, cussing testosterone, and Olivia had been completely unprepared. Like her mother, she hadn’t known that Michael had family. She’d thought she was the only child in his life—the only one vying for his attention. Suddenly there were three boys who shared his blood. And no matter how hard she’d tried to be a perfect little stepdaughter, she couldn’t compete with that.
Her fear of losing Michael’s love had kept her from being a good hostess. She’d tried to avoid the Beaumonts, until…the one afternoon she’d discovered Deacon in the garden. His resemblance to Michael surprised her and made her even more jealous, which led to her doing something completely out of character. Now all she could hope was that Deacon wouldn’t hold the incident against her.
“So did you read the contract?” she asked.
“Most of it.”
“And?”
Instead of answering he headed back to the house, leaving her no choice but to follow. Once on the porch, he sat down in the rocker and scratched the dog’s ears, rocking slowly back and forth. It was a stall tactic if ever there was one, and she tried to push down her apprehension and act like it didn’t matter.
Climbing the steps, she checked to see if her clothes were drying. She had just lifted her panties from the railing when he spoke.
