Say My Name (28 page)

“She fits right in with the team on twenty-seven. We’re hoping we can steal her permanently off Damien’s desk, aren’t we, Trent?” Aiden glances at Trent Leiter, who nods enthusiastically.

“Absolutely,” he says.

“And what’s your role?” Jackson asks Trent. “International development? You’re in charge of the Bahamas development, aren’t you?”

“Actually, I oversee Southern California. That project was something of a one-off for me. Right now my attention is primarily on a new office and retail complex we’re building in Century City.” Jackson looks between me and Trent. “So the chain I follow is Sylvia, you, Aiden, and then Mr. Stark?”

“Hopefully you won’t need to go over my head at all.” I laugh as I say it, hoping to lighten the moment. Jackson has no way of knowing it, but Trent was less than thrilled when Damien named me project manager for The Resort at Cortez, taking him out of the hierarchy entirely.

“And we’re very laid back when we need to be,” Aiden adds. “You can come to me anytime. Or Damien, for that matter.”

“What are you coming to me about?” Damien asks as he approaches us from behind. He holds out his hand to Jackson, who shakes it warmly, dispelling my fear that his disdain for Damien would somehow spill out onto the polished wood flooring.

“Just to tell you how much I’m going to enjoy this job.” Jackson flashes a quick smile in my direction, and I feel a rush of gratitude. I’m not sure if he picked up on Trent’s envy or disdain or whatever it is, but I’m grateful for the change in subject.

“I’m very happy to hear it,” Damien says. “We were all disappointed when you turned down the Bahamas resort. I didn’t ask you on Saturday, but I’m curious. What changed your mind?”

Jackson shifts just enough to look at me. “As I said, Ms. Brooks is very persuasive. And perhaps the stars are just better aligned this time around.”

Damien looks at him as if considering. “I hope you find that working with Stark International is a mutually beneficial arrangement. I don’t bring people into my organization lightly. Your talent says a lot. And Ms. Brooks’s enthusiasm weighed heavily, too.”

“In that case, it looks like I have Ms. Brooks to thank for a lot of things.” Jackson’s smile is just for me. “The Resort at Cortez is just one of many.”

When Nikki joins the group to ask who needs drink refills, I offer to take care of that so she can mingle. Mostly I just want to get away before my body heats to exploding from the undercurrent of Jackson’s words.

I’m in the kitchen opening a fresh bottle of scotch when Trent enters and adds some ice to his glass. “Good thing you got him in to replace Glau. That was fucked up the way he just blew off for India.”

“Tibet,” I say.

“Odd either way. I wonder what his real story is.”

“Glau? Honestly, I’m so annoyed with the man I don’t even care.”

“I’m curious,” Trent admits. “But I wasn’t talking about Glau. I mean Steele.”

“His real story?” I’ve lost the thread of the conversation.

“It’s just so strange. I mean, he was adamant that he wouldn’t work for Stark in the Bahamas. And now suddenly he’s all eager?”

“Trust me, he wasn’t easy to convince.”

“Which is also strange,” Trent says, “since he’s had his eye on the Cortez project from the beginning.”

I put down the bottle of scotch. “What are you talking about?”

“I was pulling some permits last week for Century City and talking with one of my friends in the county clerk’s office. She mentioned that he’d pulled some surveys for the island.”

“Why on earth were you talking to her about Cortez?”

He shrugs. “She assumed it was my project.”

“Last week we hadn’t even offered him the job.”

“That’s my point,” Trent says. “I think your Mr. Steele was playing hard to get. What I’m wondering is why.”

Since I don’t know the answer, I say nothing, and when Trent takes his drink and leaves, I take a moment to just breathe deep. What he was saying made no sense. So what the hell kind of game had Jackson been playing?

When I return to the main area, Aiden has moved on, and Damien and Jackson are talking alone, still looking perfectly civil. I realize then that I still expect to see tension between them, but it’s just not there. Instead, I see two men with more in common than either of them probably realize. If Damien is arrogant, then Jackson is, too, because both possess a single-minded purpose.

There are physical similarities, too. Dark hair. Classic bone structure. Hollywood-handsome good looks.

They are both the kind of men who can bring a woman to her knees, and there is no doubt that as far as I’m concerned, Jackson has done exactly that.

“It’s like looking at the cover of a damn men’s magazine, isn’t it?” Evelyn says, as she takes one of the glasses of scotch from my hand and downs it in a single gulp. “I spoke with your architect earlier. I think he’ll do good. And I’m glad the two of you got over whatever hurdle needed to be leaped.”

“Me, too.” My cheeks heat as I think just how enthusiastically we topped that particular hurdle.

Evelyn laughs, and my blush burns hotter.

“Don’t worry,” she says. “Your secret’s safe with me. But you be careful, too.”

“Careful?”

“Jackson Steele is not a man with a one-woman reputation, and you’ve never struck me as the kind of woman to put up with a player.”

“No, he’s not—” But I stop. The truth is, she’s right about his reputation. And though I asked him about it, I have no way of knowing what really went on with those women.

“Just be careful,” Evelyn repeats. And this time, all I do is nod.

I head to the kitchen to get a replacement for the scotch Evelyn took, and when I return, Nathan Dean has joined the men.

“Sylvia!” he says, giving me an air kiss on both cheeks. “So wonderful to see you again. Now that Damien doesn’t need me anymore, I miss going over the punch lists with you.”

“Always a good time,” I say, and make all three of the men laugh. “What are you working on now?”

“A residence in Brentwood, actually. For Trent Leiter.”

“I didn’t realize,” I say. “That’s great.”

“Aiden gave him my name,” Nathan says. “Which is how I met Damien, actually. I’ve known Aiden for years, and it’s a friendship that’s paid off handsomely.”

“You’ve certainly done an amazing job here,” Jackson says. “This home is stunning.”

“Thanks,” Nathan says. “Of course, Damien is a man with a lot of opinions. Several of the design features originated with him.”

“He’s saying that I’m a nightmare to work with,” Damien says.

“I’m not. I appreciate the feedback. This is one of my most seamless projects.”

“This floor is truly unique,” Jackson says. “A man in your position must do a lot of entertaining.”

“Actually, that was never my plan. Until recently, I rarely entertained in my own home, and I can’t say I was that keen on going out, either.”

“Must be nice when family is over, though.”

I frown, not sure if he’s asking questions with a purpose or just making small talk.

“To be honest, neither of us have large families. I don’t get along particularly well with my father—if you read the gossip magazines that’s hardly breaking news. And Nikki’s family—well, her mother lives in Texas. You could say that as far as family goes, we’re starting fresh.”

An awkward silence hangs for a moment before Jackson speaks. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to touch on a sore spot.”

“Don’t worry,” Damien says. “My father is a lot of things, but not someone I spend any time worrying about.”

In what I assume is an attempt to change the subject, Jackson turns back to Nathan. “I’m guessing you work exclusively on residential projects?”

“Primarily, but not exclusively.” Nathan’s voice is a bit higher than usual, as if he too is trying to push away any bad vibes. “I’ve been doing a bit of networking, trying to expand my presence in the commercial market, but I certainly haven’t made the kind of inroads there that you have. You have quite a portfolio, Mr. Steele.”

“Call me Jackson, please. And while I understand the desire to branch out, I have to say that you excel in what you do. I meant what I said about this house. It’s a gem.”

“Coming from you, that’s high praise. Do you mind if I ask your opinion on a few things?”

“Not at all.”

“Looks like they’re going to talk shop,” Damien says to me. “Do you mind if I borrow you for the same purpose for a minute?”

“Of course not.”

As Jackson and Nathan head to the balcony to discuss foundations or arches or some other architectural details, I follow Damien into the kitchen where he gives me a quick update on his itinerary for the week. “There’s a play on Broadway that Nikki’s been wanting to see, and I need to meet with Isabel about next month’s product rollout. I thought I’d kill two birds and go to Manhattan Tuesday night.”

“Sounds like a plan. You’ll leave for Brussels from New York?” Nikki is attending some sort of digital conference, and Damien is going as well. They’d been planning to fly from Los Angeles on Friday. “Do you still want Grayson on the flight? Or do you want to go commercial?”

“Make sure the date change doesn’t screw up any plans Grayson might have. If he’s free, book a suite for him, too. He can have a few days of R&R in New York before we make the trip.”

I grin. “He’ll love it.”

“He’ll spend the entire time at the airport looking at other pilots’ birds,” Damien says.

“Like I said—he’ll love it.”

“Bring Rachel up to speed, and make sure she knows everything she needs to about arranging my travel. The more you move off my desk, the more on top of things she has to be.”

“Of course, Mr. Stark.”

“And, Sylvia?”

“Yes, sir.”

“You’re doing a great job off my desk, too.”

The praise makes me glow. “Thank you. Anything else?”

“Just have a good time today.”

“Already done.” I start to return to the party, then pause. “Actually, can I ask you something?”

“Certainly.”

I hesitate, not sure how to phrase it. Since there doesn’t seem to be any good way, I just dive in. “I was wondering what happened in Atlanta. With the Brighton Consortium.”

“Were you?”

He says nothing else, and I feel myself shrinking a little under his steady gaze.

“It’s just that you said something on Saturday. Before Jackson agreed to the project, I mean.”

“About a few of my successful land deals having the opposite impact on him.”

“Yes.”

“Did Jackson ask you about it?”

I think about our conversation in the car. We discussed it, true. But Jackson never asked. “No,” I say, secure in my literal honesty.

He leans against the island, his hands in his pockets. “It’s complicated,” he says, “but the bottom line is that the consortium was badly run—and that provided me the chance to step in and acquire some prime real estate. A business deal, plain and simple, at least where I was concerned.”

“Where you were concerned?”

“If the deal had gone through, you and a lot of other people would have been embroiled in a huge mess simply because you’d worked closely with one of the major players.”

“Reggie.”

Damien tilts his head in acknowledgment.

“Okay,” I say slowly, thinking it through. “How was it badly run? What kind of mess? Would Jackson have been caught up in it?”

“Yes to the latter. As for how and what kind, I think those are questions for Reggie. Do you still keep in touch?”

“A bit,” I say. “He moved to Houston, but he’s been to LA twice in the last five years. We had lunch.”

“If you’re still curious the next time you have lunch, ask him. Otherwise, just let it go, Sylvia. Let it go, and consider yourself lucky.”

“Lucky?”

“If Reggie hadn’t decided to pull up stakes, you might still be working for him. You wouldn’t have Cortez. And I would never have hired a truly great assistant.”

“Oh. Right. Thanks.”

“Sometimes crappy things happen for a reason.”

“I guess they do,” I say. “Thanks for telling me.”

“There’s more, but it’s not my story to tell. Call Reggie if you’re curious. But it was a long time ago. My advice is to just let it go.”

“I will,” I say, though I’m not sure if I mean that I will call Reggie, or that I’ll drop the issue altogether.

We walk back into the party to find that everyone has gathered on the patio. It’s a gorgeous afternoon, and the deep blue of the Pacific spreads out in the distance.

“There you are.” Wyatt takes my hand to draw me into his conversation with Nikki and Jackson. “I was just telling Nikki we need to reschedule your lesson. How about Tuesday? We can do some sunset shots in Santa Monica. That is if you don’t mind coming to us,” he adds to Nikki.

“Fine by me,” she says. “We can grab a drink after, okay, Syl?”

I glance at Damien, because I know that Nikki will be long gone by happy hour. But he nods almost imperceptibly, and I go with the flow. Her trip is a surprise, after all, and we can always reschedule later. “Sounds good to me.”

“And I’d like to schedule a time for you to come to the island,” Jackson says. “I can take a few shots on my own, but depending on the terrain I may want you to put together a more extensive portfolio for me to use for planning purposes.”

“Just say the word. I love it out there. Can’t wait to go back.”

“Damien was there this morning,” Nikki says.

“Not you?” I ask.

“I took an investor,” Damien explains. “Dallas Sykes. I’ve been looking at acquiring a piece of his operation. And I wanted to smooth over his ruffled feathers after he heard the original gossip about Glau.”

“Damien took Sykes and his latest fling,” Nikki says, her tone making clear that we’ve crossed over into gossip.

The conversation continues along those lines—bouncing from gossip to work to families to friends—until Jackson announces that he and I have plans to scout the island, too, and should probably get going.

We say our goodbyes, and I watch as Jackson and Damien shake hands, looking for all the world like two men who don’t have the slightest problem with each other.

I release a slow breath, realizing at that moment how much I’d been worrying, even after I watched the two interact.