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His shapely lips finally quirk up into a smile and he leans forward. “I thought you’d never ask.”
A shiver goes up my spine, and I mask it by taking a sip of wine.
We’d already straightened out his dad’s assets and finances. What the elder Weaver wants is succinct and clear: everything will go to Nick.
It’s a slight to Vanessa, but, so far, she hasn’t raised any issues with the decision.
Probably because of what Nick tells me next.
“If something happens to me, every penny goes to my nieces, Scarlett and Aimee.”
I shouldn’t be surprised, but I am. Nick catches the hesitation and explains further, “The way things stand, and the way my father has everything set up, they’re not entitled to anything unless I’m dead. And Vanessa has worked her ass off for this company. It’s an insult. She deserves half of the estate. Especially after…”
He trails off, a pained look on his face. But I already know the story. On a recent night when I was fuming over how incredibly infuriating Nick Weaver is, I’d googled the family. There were the usual articles: Collin Weaver’s donations to certain charities; Nick’s status as a desired bachelor; the expansion of the company to the UK.
And then there were a handful of articles that mentioned Vanessa, but under a different name–Vanessa Robinson.
Her husband Greg had died in a small plane crash on his way back up the coast from a business deal. It was just him, the pilot, and an assistant. No one survived. Vanessa was left widowed, her children fatherless, and for some coldhearted reason, Collin Weaver hadn’t offered even an inch of help.
Instead, he’d had Vanessa pick up where her husband left off.
Then it hits me – the thing that doesn’t quite add up.
“Wait. Wasn’t your brother-in-law in line to take over the company?” I ask, eyes locking on Nick’s. His gaze goes unfocused again, confusion clouding his eyes. Then I detect an edge of hurt.
“You’ve done your homework.”
The words are cold. But instead of feeling bad, I brace myself and tell him, “It’s my job.” Nick Weaver needs constant reminders that despite that night together, there’s only one reason we’re in each other’s company right now.
Neither of us wanted to see the other again. If we had, he could have asked for my number. I could have stayed.
The aching bloom of possibility moves through me and I wonder if Nick feels it, too.
But, no, he’s made it clear that he has every intention of staying a bachelor. That night happened for one reason only: for both of us to work something out of our systems. To take it out on each other.
And Nick Weaver haddefinitelytaken it out on every inch of my body.
Pulling myself away from the memories, I focus instead on Nick’s furrowed brow in the dimly lit room.
“What does that have to do with anything?”
I hesitate, just now wondering if I’m overstepping. But it’s not as if what we’re discussing isn’t public knowledge.
“The accident… you weren’t involved with the company before then?”
Nick nods slowly, still not comprehending my point.
“You said your ex was after money. And I’m sure you were comfortable, but…”
I leave it hanging between us.But you weren’t in line for the money. And following your father’s line of reasoning, your brother-in-law would have inherited everything…
Nick’s eyes go wide and sober for a moment. Somehow, this hasn’t occurred to him before. His back stiffens.
“Sorry.” The word rushes out, but he’s watching me closely now, leaning slightly across the desk. Blindly, he puts his glass down.
“You don’t have to be sorry. But, Miss Morrison, I think we both know you crossed a line.”
I nod without thinking, guilt coursing through my veins along with anticipation. Nick is leaning close enough that I can smell him now, and his hand comes down on my thigh. Pulls me closer with one jerk, the chair scraping across the carpet.
