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“Yes.”
Dom and Frankie’s opposite reactions were rare. Usually they were peas in a pod.
Frankie laid a hand on Dom’s shoulder. “Humor me. I haven’t heard it yet.”
At Dom’s reluctant nod, Jake took out the contract and set it in front of them.
“Basically, you all agree to participate in this six-part miniseries featuring the renovation of Valenti Vineyards. The network will assume twenty percent of the raw material cost and will pay the local production crew. You will cover the remaining eighty percent of the budget and all of the labor costs for your subcontractors. Anyone considered part of the family will not be compensated biweekly, but rather granted one lump sum for rights to use the family name and business logo, the idea being that you will benefit from the exposure for your brand.”
“So far I follow. The network won’t retain any rights to the property though, right?”
Frankie skimmed the contracts as he spoke, and he couldn’t help but admire her mind at work. She might be the youngest Valenti, but she was no baby. Frankie gave as good as she got. Jake would bet money on her being the person to take Valenti Brothers into the future. He refused to let her wrest control of the conversation from him though, deliberately keeping his answers dismissive. “No, they won’t. Moving on.”
Negotiation strategy number one: if you can make your opponent’s concerns sound inconsequential, they might just believe it too.
“We will stick pretty closely in terms of format to the current show, but we will focus on a different part of the property for each episode.”
“No, we won't.”
Frankie’s flat reply had him leaning back in his chair.What the hell?His own negotiation strategy turned back on him? Where had she picked that up? “Elaborate.”
“Similar format, fine, but we will not stick to the current roles."
Since Jake's plan of featuring Dom and Jo together had just gotten skewered, he nodded for her to continue, but she had already turned to her dad.
"I’ve got ideas about how the property should be developed. I know what Ma would want, and I’m not giving up control to some suits." Whirling back to Jake to drive home her point, Frankie drilled her index finger into the desk. "Saving my parents’ marriage is more important than a silly show.”
Jake bit back his flare of temper over having his work called silly. This was why he'd wanted to deal with Dom. This negotiation was going to take forever if she fought him on every point. “No one said you wouldn’t be involved. You’ll still do your thing.”
“My thing?”
He could practically see her hackles rising. If he got her mad enough, maybe she’d stomp off and let him get these damn contracts signed. He had better things to do with his morning than argue with her. Plus, he got a perverse joy out of pissing her off.
“What exactly is my thing? The comic relief?”
Jake shrugged. That was a close enough descriptor. Yes, she was a talented builder, but he already had one of those—one beloved by audiences after that proposal stunt—in Adrian. Shifting from established roles wouldn’t go down well with his bosses.
Frankie moved to sit on Dom's desk, turning her back on Jake. “Dad, listen. I want this project. Sofia can help me with the details around what I’ve already laid out. But with all the babies coming, no one else is going to have time for this. Plus, what better way to prove that I can handle taking my place in the business than by running this project by myself?”
Jake could see the idea of grandchildren race through Dom’s head, pulling a smile from him—a rare sight these days. The man he admired had changed so much from the bold, fearless man who'd pitched him the show two years ago. His cheerful confidence at the beginning of the project had slowly diminished as his marriage had deteriorated. The tragic loss of their eldest son Gabe had strained Jo and Dom's connection, and the show had only made things worse. But Sofia and Adrian were expecting their first, and Natalie and Enzo were going to give little Daisy twins for siblings. Maybe three grandbabies in two months would help them figure things out. Didn't people always think babies would solve all of their problems?
“Imagine, me getting to be a grandpa to three babies all at once. The only thing that would make it better would be a trifecta.” Dom lowered his chin and sent a heavy glance Frankie’s way.
“Dad, please. I'm not even dating anyone."
Interesting.Jake filed that information away.
"Besides, right now I want this company with Adrian. Let me prove I can do it. Go play with babies and fix things with Ma. Let me be the head contractor on this job. Please, Dad?”
Frankie wrapped Dom around her little finger with an ease born of long practice. What would it have been like to wield that much power as a child? No doubt she’d been doing it since before she could walk. He could only imagine it led to a confidence that the world would bend to her liking. Instead of feeling trapped and helpless.
God, if he'd been able to convince his parents just once… But that had been a lifetime ago, and he'd done okay doing things his way.
He pulled his mind back into the present. The past was past. He clicked his director filter back into place and assessed the family dynamics at play with a dispassionate eye. Dom was softening, his face relaxing at the thought of his wife and his grandchildren.
“This is a big job,” Jake interjected, trying to get them back on track. “I’m not sure this is the time—”
“I know exactly how big it is. I’ve got schematics and timelines already figured out,” Frankie tossed back. She turned back to her father and stared him down. “If not now, when? I’m twenty-six, I got the degree you said I should have, and I’ve been working with you on jobsites since I could walk. Don’t you trust me, Dad?”
