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Natalia would never take charity, though, especially not from the likes of me. Stubborn through and through. So, I’d need to make her one hell of a perfect deal to get her to accept my help.
“I’ll handle your Jeep, but I need a favor. Consider us even if you do this for me.” I was losing my damn mind, and I wasn’t even sure if the plan I’d devised in my head would work with my uncle.
“What?” Natalia’s gaze shot to my face, and she leaned in a touch.
I inhaled and caught a whiff of lavender, then reminded myself Natalia was Anthony’s ex a half dozen times before asking her something downright crazy, “I need you to help me find a girlfriend.”
“I’m sorry, what?”
Before I could offer her an explanation, my phone buzzed in my pocket. “Hold that thought. I have to take this call. Sorry.”
“Um, okay,” Natalia whispered, confused, and I didn’t waste time starting for the sidewalk.
“Hey, this is Ryan, thanks for calling me back,” I answered once confirming it was my uncle’s number.
“There are only two reasons you’d call me,” my uncle replied, cutting to the point. “Did someone die? Or did you change your mind about the money?”
I checked over my shoulder to ensure I was alone and spotted Natalia with her head under the hood of her Jeep. I had to make this quick before she did more damage to it by poking around.
“The money,” I answered, facing forward again.
“Why now? You told my family at Dante’s funeral you had no interest in the inheritance. And when I offered it to you again when my parents passed away, you were still disinterested,” Maurizio quickly reminded me as if I’d ever forget. Nope, those two conversations lived in my head as if they’d happened yesterday. Especially Dad’s funeral.
“Things changed.” My brother is an idiot and needs my help again.
“You have to be married and promise to do your best to have children to carry on the Rossi name,” Maurizio repeated the same bullshit he’d said to me ten years ago when my grandfather had died, leaving him in charge. My uncle never married or had children, which meant Anthony and I had to “keep the Rossi bloodline” going.
“To an Italian woman?” That was originally part of the deal for my dad, which was why he’d lost the inheritance.
“Your grandfather was old school. Honestly, I don’t care who you marry, as long as you have kids and they have the Rossi last name.”
That was a relief. But the wife part was still problematic.
“You’re in charge of the inheritance, and how it’s handled, surely you can change the terms.” I doubted my uncle would rewrite the deal completely, but could I get him to amend it slightly?
“What are you asking?”
I picked up my pace, preparing myself to share the plan I’d concocted while driving from Charleston to Charlotte last night. “I need an advance on the inheritance. Ten percent should be fine. I’m . . . starting a business, and I’d like to be able to offer my future wife and children a strong foundation to grow on. If I don’t follow through with the marriage and kids, sign the other ninety percent of my family’s share to yourself.”
I needed enough to get Anthony out of trouble, and my uncle could keep the other nine million for all I cared. Dad didn’t want it. I sure as hell didn’t, either.
My uncle’s silence meant he was at least mulling over the idea, but he was a businessman, and I knew he’d want some sort of assurance he was making a smart deal. I was worried the “nine million if I failed” wouldn’t entice him enough. He wanted the Rossi “legacy” to continue.
I knew what I had to say to seal the deal. To get the ten percent from him. “I’m dating someone, and I plan to propose soon.”
If my uncle took the bait, I would need Natalia to help me find someone ASAP. Mom was right. Almost everyone I knew from when I lived in Charlotte twenty years ago had moved or was married.
“How can I trust you? You’re asking me to send you a million dollars on your word alone?”
“A Rossi’s word isn’t good enough for you?” I asked, and then realized my clipped tone was the wrong move with my uncle. “Sorry, Uncle Maurizio. I’m just stressed. I want to ensure I can provide for her before I propose. Plus, I just retired. I’ll only receive fifty percent of my previous salary going forward.”
More silence.
More thinking on his part.
Better than a knee-jerk no.
“Do you love this woman?” he asked.
