Maks opened his mouth to unleash another diatribe at Nikos, who was insufferably happy all the time now, but at that moment he saw his oldest brother, Sharif, taking a seat in a discreet corner booth. Sharif caught his eye and Maks nodded in his direction, steering Nikos towards the table.
It was a rare occurrence that they were all in Paris at the same time, and an even rarer occurrence that they were meeting for a drink.
When they were seated around the table with their drinks, Nikos addressed the elephant in the room. ‘This is serendipitous, indeed—all the brothers around a table that isn’t twelve foot long and full of other board members. Something to tell us, Sharif?’
Their eldest brother looked as unreadable and unflappable as ever. ‘Can’t we at least pretend we’re a normal family?’ His tone was mocking.
Maks let out a spontaneous snort of laughter. ‘Normal? What’s that? None of us can lay claim to knowing the first thing about what it’s like to be normal.’ That was followed by a far too familiar sense of hollowness in his gut.
Nikos said, ‘Speak for yourselves. I’m a happily committed married father of nearly two children.’
Nikos’s wife was pregnant with their second child. It had just been announced in the press.
Sharif said darkly, ‘We’ll see how long that lasts.’
Maks felt Nikos bristle beside him. He put a hand on his arm. ‘He’s just jealous.’
Now Sharif made a snorting noise.
They all took a sip of their drinks, tension bubbling under the surface, but it was tempered by something far more tenuous and delicate. New.
Maks realised that, as much as they might be wary of each other, they respected each other at least.
Then Sharif, sounding uncharacteristically un-mocking said, ‘Actually, I wanted to let you know that the group has seen the best returns in a decade. And that’s down to us all.’ He looked at Nikos. ‘The news of your marriage and fatherhood has stabilised nervy shareholders.’
Nikos grinned, lifting his glass. ‘Happy to help in any small way I can.’
Sharif went on, glancing from Nikos to Maks. ‘I know we all have our reasons for investing our time and effort into this company, and that none of us had to accept this inheritance. God knows, our father didn’t inspire loyalty in any of us, but I’m glad we’re in this together. I think we can take the Marchetti Group above and beyond anything our father ever imagined, and in doing so we can forge a new beginning.’
Nikos frowned. ‘That almost sounds like you’ve got something planned, brother.’
Sharif shrugged, but Maks noticed that he was watching them carefully. He said, ‘I’m just saying that there is no limit to what we can achieve now we’re united.’
At that moment Nikos’s phone buzzed. It was on the table, and Maks saw an image of Maggie’s smiling face and their son Daniel’s, close to hers. Daniel was grinning cherubically, with the dark hair and eyes of his father.
Nikos picked up the phone, looking at his brothers. ‘Are we done here, or do you want to sit and braid each other’s hair some more?’
Sharif rolled his eyes, but his mouth twitched. ‘No, go—play happy families. Enjoy it while it lasts.’
Nikos was already up, answering his phone with a sexy growl. ‘Moro mou, you were meant to call me an hour ago...’
Maks knew Maggie well enough by now to know that she’d probably be rolling her eyes at her husband, and a curious little ache formed in his chest at the thought of Nikos and his growing family unit. At his very obvious adoration for his wife. It was such an alien thing to witness.
All of sudden Maks realised that in spite of everything he didn’t share Sharif’s cynicism. He had a sense that whatever Nikos and Maggie had, it was very real.
Sharif’s phone rang. He answered it and went still. Th
en he said, ‘I’m making the most of a set of circumstances set down many years ago. It’ll be in all of our interests to take advantage of this opportunity. Let them know I’ll expect things to happen within the next couple of months.’
Maks looked at Sharif when he had terminated his call. ‘That was cryptic. Anything you want to share?’
Sharif fixed his dark gaze on Maks. For a moment Maks had the impression that Sharif wanted to share something but all he did say was, ‘It’s nothing that concerns you. Stay in touch, brother. And forewarn me next time you decide to pose naked for the papers. It was rather more of my little brother than I cared to see over my breakfast.’
Sharif got up to leave and Maks rose too, gritting his jaw again. ‘I didn’t pose.’
But Sharif was already striding out of the bar, with a couple of assistants who’d been hiding in a corner chasing after him.
Feeling irrationally irritable and irritated, Maks moved to a stool at the bar, ordering a drink. He noticed a few women on their own. One met his eyes. She was beautiful. Willowy, blonde. Confident. Exactly the kind of woman whose clear invitation he would have accepted before. Except he felt nothing. No stirring of interest. Nada. Zilch.