Beg for It (12 page)

Reese pulled the folders out of her hands and piled them. “That’s a completely unprofessional accusation.”

“It would be unprofessional of
you
, if that’s what you did.”

He’d spotted a garbage can in the corner and stood now to toss the files into it. Her accusations, professional or not, had hit too close to home. He turned to lean his back against the counter, facing her.

“You know, I’ve bought and sold more businesses in the past twelve years than you could possibly guess.”

“A hundred or so, right?” she said easily enough. “I told you, I looked you up.”

“Then you should know I’m—”

“A powerful businessman. I know.” She got up from the table and moved toward him, stopping just out of reach. She took a long, slow slip of her wine. “Expensive suits. Houses all over the world. You’re very important, and very, very rich. You’re one of Philadelphia’s top ten eligible bachelors.”

She must’ve read one of the many gossipy type reports that had gone around the internet once or twice when he’d been foolish enough to get involved with that sort of thing.

“You should know that I’m good at what I do,” Reese said. “I don’t waste time or resources on things that don’t matter.”

She smiled thinly. “And you should know that I’m also good at what I do, and I don’t need my time
wasted
on things that don’t matter.”

Somehow, he suspected that neither of them were really talking about the business.

“Good to know. When I get back to the office next week, I’ll expect to have all the updated information showing me these the discrepancies and how they were resolved, with authentication.”

Corinne put her half-f wineglass in the sink. It took her a few seconds longer to turn than necessary, but when she did, her expression was neutral. “If you’re planning to accuse me of some kind of impropriety or…I don’t know what. Embezzling?”

“No!” Shocked, he took a step toward her before stopping himself. “What?”

She crossed her arms. “Because that’s what it sounds like, Reese. So if that’s where this is leading, you should tell me right now, because then I can have my resignation letter on your desk tomorrow morning.”

“That’s it,” he said. “That’s what you do. You get challenged the least little bit, and you want to quit.”

“Me? That’s a good one. I’m not the one—”

“Mom?”

Both of them turned toward the lanky blonde girl standing in the doorway with a curious look on her face. She had Corinne’s eyes. Shit. The daughter.

“What’s up, Peyton?” Corinne’s tone had changed. Lighter, sweeter. Concerned. She didn’t look at Reese.

“Are the cupcakes ready?”

“Yeah, honey. I’ll put them in the container for you and make sure they’re in the car for when I drop you off at school after the dentist.”

“Okay, good. I wanted to be sure you didn’t forget.” Peyton looked at Reese, then her mother.

“This is Mr. Ebersole. He bought the company I work for. He’s here to go over some paperwork.”

Peyton nodded, assessing him frankly in a way that reminded him so much of Corinne that he wanted to laugh, but didn’t. With a backward glance, she left the kitchen. Corinne looked at him.

“My oldest. She volunteered me for the bake sale.”

“You hate to bake,” he said.

Corinne’s brow furrowed. “You remember.”

“I remember a lot of things.”

“Yeah,” she said, looking into his eyes. “Me too.”

Chapter Fourteen

“You really think he came all the way to your house on a Sunday night just to talk to you about discrepancies in the files? C’mon, Corinne. There’s no way.” Caitlyn spread a thick layer of port wine cheese on a cracker and crunched it messily. Mouth full, she went on. “The guy buys and sells companies like trading cards. You think he can’t really tell when something is funky or not? Also, isn’t that what his assistant is supposed to do?”

Corinne stretched out her toes, wiggling them as she admired the polish. It had been a long, stressful week. Reese had not fired any of the current barn or production plant staff, but he’d had her start interviewing potentials for the positions she’d let go over the past year, as well as some others that had been formerly been filled by the board members. All of
them
had taken the payout she was beginning to wish she’d been offered.

“Maybe he’s trying to make you his new
assistant
,” Caitlyn said in a half-horrified voice.

Though it was Corinne’s weekend with the kids, Douglas had taken them to his nephew’s bar mitzvah. Corinne and her sister had planned to spend the entire Saturday giving themselves manicures and pedicures, drinking wine, and eating snacks while watching as many hours of their favorite TV show,
Runner
, as possible.

“Let’s watch season eight,” Corinne said, ignoring her sister.

“Eight? No. Eight’s the season we pretend didn’t happen.” Caitlyn shook her head. “That’s the season when the writers went on strike and they came up with that alternate timeline! How can you want to watch eight?”

Corinne laughed. “Okay, five.”

“Five’s good. Get that queued up; I’ll fill our glasses.”

Back in minutes with full wineglasses and some more snacks, Caitlyn settled into the couch next to Corinne. Both of them sang along to the opening theme song, which had no words, so they made up the lyrics randomly. They’d both seen most of these episodes at least three times already, so there was plenty of time to talk.

Caitlyn, Corinne knew, was going to keep circling back around to the subject of Reese unless she did the big sister thing and cut off baby sis at the pass. “So. What’s up with the new job? Any luck?”

“Ugh. Did Mom tell you to ask me that?”

“No. I just wondered how it was that you were able to make it out here for such an extended visit, that’s all. What happened with the last one, anyway?” Corinne sipped the wine, a Cabernet she’d picked up because the label had featured a mermaid with a sugar skull face. The empty bottle would join the others in a row along the top of her kitchen cabinets.

Caitlyn’s mouth twisted. “I got fired.”

“Ah.”

“Yeah. Go ahead, you can say it. ‘Again?’”

“Again?” Corinne imitated her sister’s snide tone, then softened her voice. “Kid, what happened?”

“I got caught three times without covering up my piercing.” Caitlyn pointed to the delicate jewel in her nostril. “It was against corporate policy. I didn’t want to take it out, so they had me wearing these little round adhesive bandages that were always falling off. That’s all.”

“Sucks.” Corinne shrugged. “So, you’re looking for something else?”

Caitlyn took a long, slow sip of wine and then bent forward to riffle through the plastic bin of nail polishes. She plucked out a bottle of sparkly crimson and held it up. “Yeah. Of course. Sure. Eventually.”

“Eventually.” Corinne laughed and shook her head. “How is it that you manage to drift from thing to thing and always end up somehow on top?”

“I’m a kitty cat,” her sister said with a grin that seemed a little forced. “Landing on my feet, even when you toss me out the window.”

“I take it that means that what’s-his-name is history too?” Corinne had never met her sister’s last boyfriend, though she’d seen plenty of pictures of the two of them on Caitlyn’s Connex account. Her sister hadn’t mentioned him since arriving at Corinne’s doorstep a month ago and, used to her sister’s come-and-go boyfriends, Corinne hadn’t pressed for information.

“Oh, yeah. Ancient. Speaking of what’s-his-name,” Caitlyn said. “Let’s get this turned back to Reese.”

Shit. Her plan at distraction had failed. Corinne sighed and also bent to dig around in the mess of bottles. She found a dark, iridescent blue that Peyton had brought home in a goody bag after a sleepover party. Busying herself with opening it, Corinne didn’t look at her sister.

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

“You don’t think it’s the universe trying to tell you something?” Caitlyn asked.

Corinne snorted. “Like what?”

“I don’t know. He was your one, and here he is, back again.”

“My
one
?” Corinne snorted again, this time with laughter. “Please. My fucking
one
? You’re crazy.”

Caitlyn looked serious. “Hey. I remember how it was with you two.”

“You were like, twelve. You had no idea how it was with the two of us, I promise you that.” Corinne shifted to get her toes up on the coffee table, but gave her sister a look. “Reese Ebersole was not my
one
.”

“He’s back in your life after fifteen years, Corinne, because why? He just happened to buy the company you work for? That doesn’t seem a little extreme to you?”

“It’s what he does,” Corinne said flatly, remembering what he’d said in her office. “If he just wanted to get back in touch with me, he’d hardly have to buy a company to do it. It’s coincidence, that’s all.”

“It’s serendipity.”

Corinne spread a light coat of blue polish on her toes. It was too thin. The color barely showed through. She was going to need a lot more coats to get it anywhere close to the color it was in the bottle.

“He used to paint my toes for me,” she whispered around a sudden lump in her throat. “However long it took, no matter how much work it was to get them perfect.”

Damn it, she didn’t want to ruin sister-time with tears over a relationship that had ended years ago. She didn’t want to cry over Reese at all. But there they were, the heated wet sting sliding over her cheeks and into the corner of her mouth, tasting bitter.

Caitlyn put her arm around Corinne’s shoulders. They didn’t say much after that. Corinne cried for another minute or so before grabbing a handful of tissues from the box on the end table and swiping at her face. She blew her nose and gave her sister a watery smile.

“Enough of that. I am so not going to even give him another second of my time. Not like that, anyway. We’re going to have to work together, and that’s it. Whatever happened between us was a long time ago. It doesn’t matter now.”

“Who are you trying to convince? Me? Or yourself?”

“Both,” Corinne admitted. She studied her toes, thinking she would leave them as they were, too pale a shade or not. “But I can tell you without a doubt, Reese Ebersole was not, and never will be, my one.”

Chapter Fifteen

“You don’t have to go back there, you know.” Tony said this from the doorway to Reese’s office, where he’d been leaning. “Cow country, I mean. I can handle everything for you. Or we can set up a regular weekly video meeting. It’s not like you’ve never bought a company and handled it from here before.”

Reese gave Tony a long, steady look. The other man grinned. Reese did not. Tony shrugged and held up his hands.

“It’s a new acquisition. I want to make sure things are going the way I want them to,” Reese told him.

Tony snorted, then quickly settled his expression into something that was meant to be bland but didn’t quite make it. “Sure. Yep. That’s it. It has nothing to do with—”

“Don’t.” Reese glared.

Tony shrugged again. “Hey, listen, far be it for me to judge your motivations. I’m just angling for a trip back there so I can maybe grab a bite at that diner. And that waitress’s number.”

Reese leaned back in his chair and put his feet on the desk. He wasn’t fooling himself, or Tony, with pretending to get any actual work done at the moment, anyway. “What’s up with that?”

“Can’t stop thinking about her.” Tony shook his head. “She’s…something else.”

As long as Reese had known him, Tony had never mentioned liking women sexually, not even once. “I thought…”

Tony laughed. “Yeah. Me too. I mean, I knew better. There’ve been a few ladies in my past. Just not lately. Hell, there hasn’t been anyone lately that I’d consider something special.”

It had been the same for Reese, not that he was going to say that out loud. He and Amber had parted ways more than six months ago, and if it hadn’t been acrimonious, it hadn’t been particularly amicable, either. He hadn’t thought it would matter so much to him that a woman wanted him mostly for his money, not until the fact of it had been staring him in the wallet.

“What about that one guy you were seeing?” Reese asked.

Tony gave Reese a look. “We didn’t click.”

Reese laughed. “Fair enough.”

“You sure you don’t need me to be in the office for you?” Tony fluttered his lashes. “I could use a change of scenery. Get out of the city, you know? Cast my net on fresher waters? I could try out being straight for a bit.”

“I need you in Philadelphia,” Reese said firmly. “I need to check in on my parents’ old house anyway. I’m thinking about selling it.”

It had been vacant since they’d passed away. He’d sold off the farmland to a developer who’d surrounded replaced the barn and fields with brand-new construction. A property management company had been taking care of the old farmhouse, making sure nobody vandalized it, that the house itself was kept in proper repair, that sort of thing. It had been rented a few times over the years, but was empty now.