The Negotiator (Harbor City 1)

“It’s so ridiculous,” she said. “What do you even know about her?”

Images flashed in his mind. The sunlight in her hair as they’d gone from booth to booth to find the perfect fixer upper at the flea market. The fact that she hogged the popcorn on movie night. That she’d graduated to extra-large shakes at Vito’s. The way she’d screamed and then laughed when he’d surprised her in the shower this morning. The arch of her spine and undulation of her hips as she rode him hard. None of which were things he could share with his mother.

“I know she likes pineapple shakes and cheeseburgers with jalapeños,” he blurted out. “I know she talks back to the screen during reality TV shows. I know she mutters to herself in other languages when she gets frustrated.”

“But what do you know about her?” Helene pressed. “Who she is when it counts?”

The question stopped him dead. Over the past few weeks he’d learned a lot about what Clover liked to do, but what did he really know about the details that made her Clover and not Jane? What was it that she wasn’t telling him? Sharing with him? Not that he had any right to her secrets, but the urge to know what they were called out to something inside him that he didn’t recognize.

“Well then,” Hudson said after the awkward pause while Sawyer’s brain spun in search of answers he didn’t have. “While it is always fascinating to see you two forget your mutual reluctance to talk about your feelings, I think we’ve all had enough of that for this decade.”

Helene nodded. “I suppose you’re right.”

Hudson jumped up off the couch, his hand over his heart like a two-bit player in a cheap melodrama. “Someone alert the media.”

It was so over the top and so typically Hudson that all the tension seeped out of the room. Helene stood and gave her youngest son an indulgent smile and a hard pat on the cheek. Then she turned to Sawyer.

“We lost your dad too young. I didn’t make him stop working so much and putting in all those long hours. I should have. That’s a guilt I’ll feel for the rest of my life.” She blinked back the wetness in her eyes. “And you’re so much like him, Sawyer. You never even crawled. You just decided one day to stand up and walk to the window, planted your hands on the glass, and looked out onto the Harbor City skyline,” she said, her voice shaking. “You need someone to make you slow down and appreciate the details. That person is obviously not me, but I’m hoping that whoever you marry will be the one who can do that.” She paused and looked off to the left, blinking rapidly before centering her attention, once more, on him. “I can’t lose you, too.”

She pressed her lips tight together and inhaled a deep breath before she opened her mouth to say more. However, she must have changed her mind because instead of lecturing, she wrapped her arms around him and squeezed him close.

It wasn’t like they never hugged. They weren’t that uptight of a family, but his mom? She was a different kind of woman. Hard. Determined. Feisty, his dad had called her. Touchy feely she was not. It was one of the things they had in common. He curled his arms around her and returned the hug. They stood there like that for a minute before breaking apart. Before he could say anything, Helene—her eyes suspiciously wet again—gave him a stiff nod and strode out of his office without another word, leaving him staring after her in confusion until Hudson slapped him on the back of the head.

“If this blows up in our faces, you’re going to owe me big time,” Hudson said, all traces of the jester he’d been playing drained out of him. “I do not want to be on the same planet when she finds out we’ve been lying to her.”

“She won’t.”

She couldn’t. Losing their father had been hard on him and Hudson. Their mother had been devastated. He wouldn’t be the cause of her ever feeling any pain again.

His brother walked to the door, paused on the threshold, and turned back to face him. “Just do what you always do and keep your eye on the big picture so this doesn’t go sideways and fuck us both.”

Guilt warred with selfishness, twisting him up inside. “When don’t I?”

Hudson nodded, let out a breath, and in an instant transformed himself back into the smiling flirt he wanted everyone to think he was, then he walked out into the outer office already teasing Amara before he’d even gotten two steps away.

Without meaning to, Sawyer ended up not back at his own desk but at the end of the conference table where Clover had been working before leaving for lunch. The paper was covered in her notes, but the margins were covered in doodles of geometric shapes and a sketch of a man who looked a lot like him. The caveman inside him let out a proud and triumphant yell with plenty of chest pounding and dick waving.

It was an ego boost big enough that he forced himself to look up and focus instead on the Harbor City skyline so he could count the Carlyle buildings. Everything was falling into place. His mom was so concerned about Clover’s inappropriateness that she’d halted her campaign of wife candidates. By the time Clover left, Helene would be so relieved it would be easy to persuade her to drop the marriage campaign completely. That fact should have made the amazing view from the sixty-third floor even better. It didn’t. Instead of success, all he could taste in his mouth was bitter disappointment. That reaction did not fit into his ultimate vision of who he was and what he needed to do next.

They were almost to the deadline on Clover’s contract, and he still hadn’t gotten Mr. Lim to sign the deal for the three Singapore high-rises. Hudson was right, he couldn’t afford to let this thing with Clover go sideways and add in some unexpected complications that would only fuck with his plans. Time to refocus on the big picture and stop getting distracted.

Chapter Fifteen

Back at the penthouse after work, Clover couldn’t shake the feeling that something had changed between her and Sawyer. He’d been preoccupied after she’d gotten back from lunch and on the drive home he’d barely looked at her, let alone talked to her. Now, here she was in her room slipping on the pair of black heels he’d given her and a form-fitting little black dress with cap sleeves that ended right below her knees to go with him to a business event. The dress had always been her go-to when she needed a shot of confidence at a social event—or in this case a business dinner with the elusive Mr. Lim and

his to-be-built high-rises. And considering how silent and broody Sawyer had been acting ever since she’d gotten back from her girls’ lunch, she could use it.

“Jangan takut,”she muttered to herself.

She didn’t have time to be scared anyway. The last thing she wanted was to make them late for this dinner. She’d put too much work into putting the pieces together for a real final push for success. If everything went as planned, the deal was all but done. It was strange, she’d had a million different kinds of jobs, some that mattered but most that didn’t beyond financing her next adventure. However, seeing everything come together for this deal was different. There was a sense of accomplishment that came with it, a pride of ownership. It wasn’t her deal, but she was a part of making it happen—and that would stick around that top floor office in Carlyle Tower long after she’d left. And maybe, Sawyer would remember that and remember her.

Dragging her fingers through her stick-straight hair one last time, she smoothed it down so it fell past her shoulders, grabbed the peacock purse Daphne had loaned her for that first charity event, and strode out of her bedroom hoping she looked a hell of a lot more confident than she felt.

Sawyer stood next to the table in the foyer. A pair of brand new hiking boots bearing the distinctive Dylan’s Department Store tag sat in the middle of the table. The arrival of the mysteriously missing boots should have been what grabbed her attention, but it wasn’t. All she could do was stare at Sawyer as he stood in his navy suit, checked shirt, and patterned tie shot through with blues and golds. His glasses were in his hand and he was pinching the bridge of his nose. She must have made a sound because he looked up and stopped dead in his tracks. The look he gave her wasn’t particularly friendly, but that’s not what registered with her. It was the way his suit stretched across his broad shoulders. The way the cut emphasized his muscular chest. The fact that even in a custom-made suit—or maybe because it was—the strength of his muscular thighs showed through. To top it all off, the color of his suit made the streaks of blue in mostly green and brown hazel eyes stand out and she caught her breath. Damn. It wasn’t fair that one man could look so annoyed and so hot at the same time.

“Are you nervous about dinner?” she asked.

The vein in his temple pulsed as he gave her a slow once-over. “No.”