The Schemer (Harbor City 3)

“Tesoro, is all well?” Alberto’s question to Everly was soft, but the concern in his tone boomed. “This is not like you to get so passionate about something other than art,” he said. “Are you feeling all right?”

All right? No, she felt fucking amazing, as if she’d conquered— She turned her attention to Alberto, and her internal answer died out along with that triumphant feeling. There was a small crowd around them, all of whom were pretending not to listen while taking in every word as if they were court reporters. The Italian man at the other end of the short bar was looking straight at her, distaste plain in his hard gaze. Closer to home, Carlo stood next to Irena, who may be a horrid bitch, but she was still his fiancée. The expression on his face was a mix of confusion and anger. Pivoting just a bit, she got her first look at Tyler since she’d mounted her vigorous defense. “Thunderous” would be a generous description of the look on his face. Worst of all, beneath the fake tears, there was no missing the victory in Irena’s eyes. Shit. Shit. Shit. What did Nunni say about doing the wrong thing for the right reasons? She couldn’t remember at the moment, but no doubt it would come back to her soon.

“Actually, yes. I do feel a little out of sorts.” And at the moment it wasn’t a lie. Her stomach was in knots and her throat was tight enough to make getting the words out difficult.

“Is that what you call such rude behavior where you grew up in Riverside?” Irena asked, balancing the ire with hurt in her voice. The woman really had missed her calling.

There was nothing she wanted more than to tell Irena to go fuck herself, but she couldn’t. She’d fucked up enough as it was by forgetting the audience around them as she fired away at the other woman. “I have no excuse; please accept my apology.”

“Of course.” Irena offered her a weak smile that didn’t reach her still watery eyes and held out her hand. “Where would we be if we couldn’t forgive?”

She took the other woman’s hand and shook it, ignoring the shiver of revulsion that spilled down her spine. “That’s very kind of you. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”

Irena gave her a regal nod before turning to Carlo and whispering to him not to worry. It was just low blood sugar on Everly’s part or something that caused all the fuss.

Grinding her teeth to keep from saying anything else, Everly strode away from the bar. She made it two steps before an unmistakable awareness spilled over her as Tyler fell into step beside her. He was mad. She could accept that, but the fact that he was with her now confirmed the hope she hadn’t even realized she was harboring until this moment—that he’d stick with her no matter what, that he wasn’t like her father.

Once outside the ballroom doors, he turned left and led her to an empty alcove away from the chattering crowd. Holding her tongue until she looked around to make sure the coast was clear—who said she couldn’t learn from her mistakes—she let out a deep breath.

“My God, can you believe that woman?” Everly asked, taking a step toward Tyler, wanting nothing more than his arms around her at that moment.

“Her?” He evaded Everly’s touch. “I can totally believe that Irena would set up a public scene like that. What I can’t believe is that you fell for it and fucked everything up, possibly permanently.”

…

It was taking everything Tyler had not to let loose the last frayed strings of his self-control. Frustration and fury blasted his gut and singed his lungs as his brain spun, trying to find a way out of this hole Everly had dug for them both. If he didn’t, then the deal he needed so fucking badly would fall apart. The truth of that was in the look of disgust on Gianni Esposito’s face and the concern on Alberto’s.

“What in the hell are you talking about?” Everly whisper-shouted, getting right in his face. “I stuck up for you, which was more than you were doing for yourself.”

“Do you really think what that woman thinks of me matters?” No, what he’d been doing was playing the game, just like he always had. That’s what she failed to understand, what she’d always failed to understand. “Do you really think I care about her at all?”

She let out an angry huff and threw her hands up in the air. “You don’t have to care about what she thinks to have some pride in yourself and not let other people treat you like shit.”

“Is that what you think I was doing? Just bowing down?” Is that what she thought of him? That he was just some kind of wimp?

“That’s what it looked like,” she shot back.

Jesus. He’d filled his veins with ice in order to learn how to not respond to every jibe, not to give in to the so-called friendly ribbing that was anything but, not to react to the questions about his abilities because of where he was from. He was playing chess, watching the pieces and always thinking six moves ahead. That’s how he’d survived his home as a child and how he’d managed to make a name for himself in Harbor City. He sure as fuck hadn’t accomplished anything by allowing himself the luxury of letting his emotions—justified or not—determine how he reacted to a situation.

“I always have a plan,” he said, keeping his voice low and as neutral as possible. “My ex-fiancée was just goading us with the specific intent of getting a rise out of me and making me lose my temper to show the hotel board just how unsuitable I am. I didn’t do that, but you sure as hell did. You let her get your Riverside up and let loose calling her a whore and doing the one thing I didn’t think anyone could do, make Irena look sympathetic.”

“How is that even possible with all she said about you?” she asked, matching his volume despite the heat in her words.

And there it was. That was the brilliance of Irena’s plot to fuck him out of this deal.

“Because no one else heard that part, only we did.” Gianni Esposito from the hotel board certainly hadn’t. “The people who matter only heard you.”

“The people who m-matter?” she sputtered. “You sound like Irena.?

?

“And in there, you sounded like my parents before the dishes started shattering.” Fuck. That was not where he’d wanted to take this conversation. Refusing to give in to the fire burning in his belly, he exhaled a deep breath. “You’re smart, talented, and passionate about the things you care about, but you don’t understand these people like I do. I’ve spent my life trying to prove to them that even though I’m an outsider, I’m more than just some kid from Waterbury. It has been the only thing I’ve focused all my attention on since I got that scholarship to prep school. Since then, every day has been about moving forward, strengthening my reputation, and always knowing what to expect next—until I met you and the unexpected became an everyday part of my life. It’s a distraction I can’t afford if I’m going to convince the board to pull this deal back from the edge—and I have to maneuver them into that decision, which is going to be that much harder because of what you did in there.”

Her lip trembled as an angry flush swept up from her chest and she took a step back, smoothing her hair and raising her chin a few inches. “Do you have any idea how it feels to never be good enough for the people in your life that you—” Her voice cracked as she seemed to nearly choke on the emotion turning the tip of her nose red and making her chin tremble. Then, she took a shaky breath and continued. “That you care about when all you want is for them to accept you for who you are and they don’t?”

Was she joking? Had she not heard what he’d been saying about the precariousness of his position and the value of this deal in finally solidifying his place in Harbor City? “Every fucking day, which is why it’s so important that I go back inside and fix this massive fuckup.”

He expected more fiery emotions, more verbal explosions. Instead, he watched—almost in a slow-motion perspective that shredded him from the inside out—as all the emotion drained out of her eyes and she went perfectly still. He knew that look. He’d fucking mastered it. It was the one that said there was nothing left in her veins but ice and that whatever had just happened didn’t matter because she no longer cared. She’d shut down—no, she’d shut him out.