Charming You (Thirsty Hearts Book 1) (14 page)

W
hile Nick had decided
he couldn't pass along the information he gained from Micky's computer, it prompted him to research Midsummer over the next several days. He zoomed in on the screenshot and recognized it as a press release.

Azur and Midsummer had agreed on a new go-to-market plan, where they'd partner in approaching a customer segment new to both companies. It didn't discuss a merger, but quotations from both executives talked about "future collaborations."

Nick figured he could include Midsummer in his next report along with a half dozen other potential bidders, losing all the specifics and emphasizing that Azur wanted to strike a deal now. He compiled all he had into a presentation, which he and Bob would deliver to Tom, Jonah, and their strategist Andrew Caldwell.

Walking into the meeting, Nick squared his shoulders, and the men shook hands. Bob kicked things off and then ceded the floor to Nick, who spent thirty minutes painstakingly detailing why Tom Moran needed to stop dithering.

"That's your advice for us? A go or no-go in the next week?" Jonah asked. He folded his hands in front of him, mirroring his father's posture.

"I don't like feeling pressured," Tom grumbled.

Nick glanced at Andrew, who'd provided some of the data indicating they needed to move quickly. Andrew jerked his gaze down to his notebook.

"All indications are that Azur already has something in the works. If you don't get in now, you'll have missed your shot. If you review appendices D through F, you'll see three possible offers that we believe could get you in front of them immediately," Nick pressed. Rather than continue to stand with his laser pointer, he slipped into a chair so he could be at eye level with the ultimate decision maker.

"The price on these offers is still too high. I don't see how a company that we all agree is in need of a cash infusion to maintain its growth could reject an offer twelve to fifteen percent below your lowest estimates," Tom argued.

Nick kept his expression steady even as he kicked and screamed on the inside. Tom was wrong. Crazy wrong. Out of options, Nick turned to his boss with widened eyes.

"Let's go back a bit and look at the facts," Bob said before launching into a reiteration of what Nick had already presented.

Tom shook his head. "I need a day or so to kick this around. You've done all the work to prep us. We can move quickly if need be. No worries."

Nick had only worries. He possessed the one piece of hard data that could push Tom over the edge, but couldn't bring himself to use it. Part of him didn't want Tom to win. After he poached information from Micky, he'd be adding insult to injury to help make Tom her boss. Eventually, Moran would probably break the company up and sell it off for more money.

Nick pulled his palm down over his face and glanced out the window. Maybe he could jump.

L
ate that afternoon
, Nick did get some good news. His PI called him with a report on his investigation into Vivienne's blackmailer.

"I talked to the manager at the UPS store. He remembers the guy who dropped off the package. He comes there all the time with large packages, and the letter-sized packages stood out to him. Said the guy seemed nervous."

"Great. Does he know the guy? A name or even a description would help."

"Nope. I mean it sounded like he knows the guy and has a name, but he wouldn't give it to me. But I noticed a security camera for the strip mall. After some finagling, I got a bit of footage from around the corner of the shipping place. Around the time of the shipment, there's one car on the end of the shopping center. You can only see part of the vehicle, but I got a partial phone number and a logo—like a company service vehicle. Dug a little more and ID'ed the company. It's small—only eight regular employees. So, I have a list of names I can easily check out and ask some questions. I've already checked to see if any of them live at or near that apartment complex. Came up empty."

"No, no. I don't want to spook the guy. Where does he work?"

"Here's the thing, I don't know the nature of what's going on here. I can look into whatever you want, but turning over a list of names when all but one are probably innocent. Can't do it. If you tell me who the target is and what the pictures were that they got, I can cross-reference their info with info on my list. Narrow it down."

Not a bad idea, Nick thought, but he knew Vivienne would freak out about sharing her problem with a private investigator.

"That's not going to work. Listen, I'm not trying to cause a bunch of drama for people. I'm interested in one name and that's it. I need to know who the person is. I may never contact them at all. I don't know. I'm certainly not going to whack anybody, if that's what you're thinking."

Rick wasn't convinced. "No one is going to tell you in advance that they're going to whack somebody. And anyway, I'd give you a single name, if I had one, but as long as things are unsure, I can't turn this over and let you be Nancy Drew."

"Alright. Let me take this back and let you know."

Nick hung up, wondering how to proceed. Maybe he could go talk to the store manager himself. All he needed enough information to get his own trail to follow.

D
riving
on Interstate 30 in rush hour traffic put Nick in a surly mood by the time he reached the shipping store in south Fort Worth only fifteen minutes before close. He hovered at the end of the line as people hurried to get their last-minute packages in the mail by the end of the day, then approached the clerk. The pimply kid looked barely old enough to drive.

"Hi. Is the manager here? I had a question."

"I'm actually the manager here. What can I do for you?" the young man asked with a squeak.

"Oh. Well, I had a question about a package that was dropped off here a few weeks ago. Nick pulled out the envelope with the tracking number. I needed to return some information to the guy, but the address here isn't a good one."

"Has to be. That label was printed online. All addresses are verified before you can pay, sir."

Nick regrouped. "True. I should be more specific. The address is for a real location, but it's an apartment complex with no apartment number or anything."

"Maybe call the guy who sent it?"

"That's just it. There's no name either. See, it lists the complex name and address, but no person."

The manager looked at the package more closely. "Oh, this is the same package a guy asked me about the other day. I'll tell you the same thing. I can't give you any information about the person who sent it. You have to have, like, a court order or something. Unless you're the police? That guy wasn't the police."

Nicked eyed the clerk, trying to figure out another approach. The younger man fidgeted under Nick's gaze. Nick smiled to relax him.

"I totally understand. Rick mentioned that you said that, but I didn't think it'd hurt to try myself. I guess I can see where he works. I really need to ask the guy some questions."

The manager nodded. "That makes more sense. You can run over there. It's just that I can't say anything. Privacy, you know. I wouldn't feel right."

The guy must work nearby. Doing what? A delivery business?

"Okay, just one more question, not about him, but just for you. Of all the packages you get through here. How'd you remember this one?"

"I asked him what it was because normally, he's stumbling in here with big boxes. I mean, he's not here that often, only when they miss the UPS guy who stops at their place during the day. People want their computers back, you know? So, he's got to get them out ASAP. Little envelope like that seemed weird. He wouldn't tell me. Seemed embarrassed or something. I don't know. Look, I gotta lock up, so anything else?"

"Nope. Sorry. Thanks for your time."

Nick shook the manager's hand and left, tossing what he'd learned from the clerk with what Rick told him. The guy had to ship back people's computers and used a service vehicle. There had to be a PC repair shop or something like that nearby. Nick did a map search on his phone for PC repair. Speedy Tech hardware repair services was less than a quarter of a mile away. That could be the small company with only eight employees.

Nick dialed the number, but it was seven o'clock, so the call went to voicemail. Tomorrow, he thought, he'd call again and also talk to Vivienne. He might convince her to give the investigator more information.

His stomach twisted. He couldn't take much more intrigue. Spying for Vivienne. Spying for Tom and the firm. The lying gnawed at him. At least fighting blackmail qualified as a good deed. He couldn't say as much about what he'd done to Micky. As he drove back to Dallas, Nick wondered what he could do to make it right.

A
nother family dinner
wasn't exactly what Micky needed in the midst of a long and exhausting week at work, but she knew it was incredibly important to her brother. Tonight, Pete planned to propose to Clarissa, and he wanted his family there to support him. Clarissa's parents arrived in town for a long weekend and to meet his mother, which is why he'd picked tonight for the proposal. Their father had an emergency and missed his flight. He was "trying" to rebook. Pretty typical.

Micky escaped the elevator right at 5:00 p.m. to head out when she got a text from Nick asking how her day was going. Rather than just text back, she called him when she got in her car.

"You could have texted me back, beautiful," he said as soon as he answered the phone. Micky blushed.

"I'm leaving the office so I thought I'd go old school and make a real phone call."

"Ah. On your way to your dinner. Where is your family get together again?"

"Nettuno. They have a small banquet room that my brother reserved. Pete's nervous. No one else knows this, but he's proposing to his girlfriend tonight. He asked me to go early and check on the arrangements he made. Dinner's not for another couple hours."

"Good for him. I'm sure there's no reason for him to be nervous. From everything you've said, it's not going to be totally unexpected."

"Oh, he's not worried about whether she'll say 'yes.' He just wants everything to go perfectly. They are plating the ring as part of Clarissa's favorite dessert. I'm taking the ring over and making sure the space is set up. I guess I'm his muscle for the evening. If anything happens to the ring, I'm supposed to break someone's kneecaps or something."

"You think you can handle that?"

"I could manage it if I had to."

Nick laughed. "I'll bet you could. If you'll have some time beforehand, you want to grab a drink? Nettuno is right by my house."

"I would, but there's a lot going on. We're still not sure if our dad is going to make it. He had flight problems."

Or so he said. She couldn't believe the man would let anything interfere with his son's one request.

"Too bad. About your dad, and that we can't meet up. Congratulations to your brother." He sounded truly disappointed, which made Micky perversely happy.

"Thanks. I'll see you this weekend."

They said their goodbyes, and Micky started her car, heading toward the restaurant.

M
icky ran
her hands through her hair as she walked past the entrance of the chic Italian restaurant toward the private room they reserved. This night was about Pete and Clarissa, so she wasn't sure why she felt nervous. She handled the business with the ring, getting more assurances they wouldn't lose it. Everything was going to be fine.

Soon enough, her brother arrived with his mother and stepfather in tow. The minute she saw him looking excited and nervous, she slapped a smile on her face and gave him a big hug. He deserved happiness. Nothing was going to interfere with that.

"Everything's good to go with the ring. What time is Clarissa getting here with her parents?"

"They should be here in about fifteen minutes. Clarissa, her parents."

"Dad?" Micky leaned in close to Pete, not wanting Lila to hear any mention of her ex-husband.

"He sends his regrets," Pete said. "He'll just have to meet Clarissa's parents another time."

Micky directed the conversation away from their flaky father. "You look dashing, it's going to be a fun night."

"You think?"

"Sure," Micky said. "You do look like you could use a drink, though."

"Maybe a small drink."

Micky turned. "Lila, Donald—would you like something to drink?"

She ordered a couple of red wines for herself and Pete, a pinot grigio for Lila, and a Scotch for Donald.

While they waited for their drinks, Donald asked Pete a few questions about Clarissa's parents.

"They live in Little Rock?"

"Yes. That's where Clarissa grew up. Her parents run a deli with a specialty grocery selling local goods."

"That's sounds lovely. So many small merchants are closing up shop these days. We're losing our local color." Donald was an advocate of small town life, which is why he and Lila had moved back to his expansive, but rural, family estate outside of Jackson, Mississippi, when he retired. Pete and Micky were shocked Lila agreed to move there from Atlanta, and she wasn't entirely happy.

"I wouldn't mind a few more mainstream shops nearby. Some things you just can't get in a small town," Lila interjected.

"They have a Wal-Mart now, right?" Pete looked with wide-eyed innocence at his mother.

"That's a terrible, joke, Peter. You know what I mean," Lila said. "But they do fly planes out of Jackson, so it's not totally desolate. I can come here to visit you and travel. It's important not to get too provincial. Clarissa's parents have always lived in Little Rock?"

"They have."

"I can't imagine."

"Clarissa loved living there. She only left to go to school, and there's more opportunity in Dallas than up there."

"Of course, there is. You're good for her. You can help her learn new things."

Pete bristled. "Mother, Clarissa was educated when I met her. She studied in France. She hardly needed me to be Henry Higgins to her Eliza Doolittle."

"I know, I know. I mean it's nice to have some sophistication in life. Traveling widens your point of view. That reminds me, Donald. Have you arranged your schedule so we can do our cruise?"

"I'm working on it, darling. I promised I would, so don't you worry about it."

"I'd hate to have to postpone. Although maybe then Sheila would come—assuming we went after her daughter's wedding."

Hearing a mention of Vivienne's impending marriage—allegedly to Nick—piqued Micky's interest. If Vivienne were getting married, then Lila was obviously mistaken about the groom. Nick had been very clear. While there was a story there, Micky believed him. Before she could ask Lila more questions, Clarissa arrived with her parents and the group was ready for dinner.

An hour and a half later, Micky sat at a large round dinner table next to Lila, who—to her credit—was on her best behavior. She and her good-natured husband Donald chatted up Clarissa's parents over emptying glasses of Chianti. Harper and Bess Langley arrived from Arkansas that morning and spent time shopping and going to the art museum downtown.

"How did you like Northpark? There are some fabulous new stores and then the old standbys. Nothing says Dallas like a trip to Neiman's," Lila joked.

"Big. So much bigger than I remember, but then I haven't been to Dallas in years. Clarissa did take us to Neiman-Marcus for lunch. It's a beautiful store. Everything is so sparse and neat." Clarissa's mother declared.

"And expensive. You've got to sacrifice a limb to afford anything in that place," Harper interjected. "My tuna salad was fifteen dollars. Fifteen bucks for a tuna fish sandwich! If we charged that at Langley's, they'd run us out of town, and you know it."

"It's expensive, but it's beautiful," Bess said. "It's a special trip, Harper. And it was very nice of Clarissa to treat us to lunch." Harper nodded in agreement on the last part.

"I couldn't agree more. I'm sure it was quite a treat for you. Neiman Marcus is a place where you find unique things for special occasions," Lila stated with a smile. Micky laughed to herself. If she lived in Dallas, Lila would be there twice a week. She'd pay a hundred dollars for a plain white T-shirt from a famous designer.

"I sampled a wonderful perfume. That's going on my Christmas list for sure, Harper. You'd better be paying attention. After all this time, sometimes I still have to remind my husband of the things I like."

"Don't we all, dear," Lila said, patting Donald's hand. "Men may run the world, but seriously, don't you wonder how they manage it?" Lila and Bess shared a laugh.

Donald shook his head. "We're busy working hard to keep our ladies happy. Those fancy lunches don't pay for themselves. Do they, Harper?" Now it was the men who laughed. Micky rolled her eyes. Hadn't Clarissa paid for lunch?

"It was a fun afternoon," Clarissa said. "And you loved the art museum, Dad."

"We had a good time. I like art museums. It's always interesting to see the things people create," Harper agreed.

"Must be where Clarissa gets her artistic streak. Last night, she put a plate of food in front of us so beautiful it could have been in a museum," Donald added.

"She's talented." Pete reached over and squeezed Clarissa's hand. The smooth progression of the evening thrilled Micky.

"Our little girl has come a long way since helping us slice ham and dish out potato salad." Bess winked at her daughter.

"Our potato salad has gotten a lot more interesting since she went to culinary school. Maybe I can start charging an arm and leg like Neiman Marcus." A red-cheeked Bess poked her husband.

"You laugh, Dad, but it's not a bad idea. I've been telling you should add more specialty items on the weekends and holidays. Keep things interesting, and give people a reason to come to the deli for more than just lunch." Donald nodded approval at what seemed like good business sense.

"Come up to Little Rock for Christmas, and we'll sort out some ideas," Clarissa's father said.

"What are your plans for Christmas, Peter?" Lila asked. "I'd hoped you'd make it to Mississippi."

Four pairs of parental eyes turned toward the couple.

Clarissa began to answer. "I'm not sure how much time I'll have. The holidays are the busiest time of year for me with all the parties and events." A faint murmur of objection started to bubble, and Pete intervened.

"We still haven't had dessert." Pete gestured to catch Micky's eye. A quick signal, and Micky excused herself to grab Emilio.

In a moment, Emilio appeared, carrying a tray of chocolate desserts—including one special chocolate truffle and cake placed in front of Clarissa. Lila immediately asked Emilio to box hers up to take back to the hotel.

"These are too beautiful eat," Bess said, looking first at her husband's plate, which was the same as her own, and then looking at her daughter's. "Yours is different, Clarissa. You have a little chocolate basket on yours. That's just adorable."

Clarissa plucked the piece of chocolate from her plate and gasped. Pete stood up.

"If I can get everyone's attention, there's something I'd like to say."

He moved, dropping down on one knee at Clarissa's side, which stopped the room.

"Clarissa, the past year since I've met you has changed me forever. I never thought I could find in one woman everything I've always dreamed of. You're beautiful, creative, and funny, and every day that I've known you has been better than any day before. So, I'm hoping that you'll agree to let me return the favor every day from here forward. Will you marry me?"

"Absolutely," Clarissa answered, breathless. Pete slid the ring onto her finger, and then she grabbed his face with both hands and kissed him.

Pete stood and wrapped his arms around a teary-eyed Clarissa. They gave each other a peck on the lips and locked eyes. The excited chatter of the parents blended with the soft Italian music piping through the restaurant. Micky teared up. Pete had waited a long time for a woman like Clarissa, but his persistence paid off. He found his "one."

Their server returned with a tray of champagne flutes. Donald and Harper began slapping Pete on the back with hearty congratulations as their wives hugged Clarissa. Micky looked on. She thought this night might be hard for her, but it wasn't. There was something about seeing these happy couples—not just her brother and his new fiancée, but Bess and Harper, and even Donald and Lila.

Lila and Pete, Sr. had been miserable, and they had lots of foolish marriages between them. In the end, even Lila found someone who made her happy enough to live—as she often put it—on the edges of civilization. Donald doted on her.

For the first time in a while, Micky thought maybe there was a happy ending for her that would be so much the sweeter for what she'd overcome. She lifted her champagne and silently toasted the thought along with her brother and his new fiancée.