Only With You (The Connor Family 4)

“I’m Carter.”

Ah, a sexy name to go with a sexy man.

“I’d love to stay and chat some more, but I have to prepare for my meeting.”

“Have a nice day, Valentina.”

The morning took a nasty turn when my lawyer called me frantically to inform me he’d been in a minor car accident on the freeway and couldn’t make it in time for the meeting.

“We should reschedule,” he said at once.

“The mediator will arrive in a few minutes. I’ll deal with it.”

After all the hassle it took for both parties to agree on the law firm we’d use for mediation, I wanted to get this over with as soon as possible.

I spent the next ten minutes behind my desk, surveying the notes I’d made during my conversation with my lawyer. As I reviewed the notes, I committed everything to memory. I wasn’t going to take them into the meeting. I felt more confident when I spoke freely, and I was determined to appear strong and unfazed, not as if I would bend to the competition’s demands.

At five to eight, my assistant knocked on the open door. “He’s here, Val. I already led him to the meeting room.”

My palms instantly felt clammy, but I sounded calm as I spoke. “Okay. Offer him water, or coffee or—”

“Poison?” Anne suggested cheerfully.

“If you do, you cannot involve me. You’re on your own.” I grinned. “Just tell him I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

I rose from my chair as Anne disappeared from view, then strode with large, confident steps. I wouldn’t allow anyone to take me down, or smear my name, not after working for this dream for more than a decade.

The meeting room was just a few feet away from my own office, and when I stepped inside, the mediator introduced himself as Emerson Smith.

“My lawyer can’t make it this morning,” I told him after inviting him to sit opposite me.

“Would you like to reschedule?”

“No, there is no need. Let’s get on with it. What are their demands?”

“Ms. Connor, I will lay everything out in simple terms. They don’t desire a lawsuit any more than you do. All they ask of you is not to bring that line to market.”

I bristled, moving at the edge of my chair. “All they ask? That would mean admitting I was wrong.”

I crossed my arms over my chest, staring at the wooden table between us. “They have no patent or credible base from which to point their finger at me. We developed the same product at the same time. A hundred copycats will catch up to us two months later anyway. It’s not patentable.”

“They will sue if you insist on bringing it to market. You know this is about profits, and nothing else. By the time the copycats will bring out their product, they could make a nice profit. But if you bring it out at the same time, it will cut into their profits.”

“I cannot tell my team to trash their work. As I said, agreeing to their terms would be akin to recognizing I was in the wrong.” I licked my lips, searching for a way to make him understand it wasn’t just about the money. “This... I know for them this is just a small branch. A profitable one, but just a blip on their portfolio of products. For me, it’s everything. I built this company.”

“I understand your viewpoint perfectly. How would you solve this? What would you like me to tell them?”

“Tell them that I don’t see any reason we can’t both bring our products on the market. Sure, it will mean lower profits for both, but that’s business. You win some, you lose some.”

Emerson went on to share a few more details, but the meeting was surprisingly short, and I was frustrated that nothing at all had been resolved. I’d been hoping to put the issue behind me, but I’d clearly been too optimistic.

This wasn’t my first rodeo with a bigger player on the market trying to intimidate me. Since I’d listed the first line in Sephora, the sharks had started showing their teeth. Once I was big enough to be noticed, they tried to push me out. I got it, store placement was limited already, and the perfume and cosmetics industry was cutthroat, with thousands of fragrances being released every year from big houses alone. So far, none of those intimidation attempts had resulted in actual lawsuits. I was betting on this going the same way.

The rest of the morning was busy as hell. I had an open-door policy, which meant anyone could stop by anytime with a question or a problem. My stomach began rumbling around ten o’clock, but I did pull through until twelve when I practically ran toward Mrs. Seguin.

The place was already half full when I arrived, but I found a table and was lazily perusing the menu, even though I already knew what I wanted to order. I was just about to flag down a waiter when

I saw a certain tall and spectacularly handsome someone step inside the restaurant. Carter.