Not Quite Over You Read online

  The last option, and to be honest, the one he liked the best, was for him to buy into her business as a minority partner. He would supply cash and together they would grow the business.

  There were several advantages on his end. While he’d thought he was over Silver, in the past few months, he’d found himself thinking about her more than was healthy. There was something about her—some combination of determination and sass—that he found difficult to ignore.

  He knew he would enjoy spending time with her and even if close proximity didn’t lead to them rekindling their attraction, he liked the idea of adding value to her small company. He was a banker by birth and by trade—his world was a happier place when those who depended on him did well. Improving the community was part of his job description, so he would start with Silver. The question was how to convince her?

  After discarding the idea of asking her friends to help with an intervention, which they would all likely refuse, and drugging her and forcing her to sign the paperwork—a little too much like a Jasper Dembenski novel for a guy who basically worked in a bank—he came up with what he thought was the perfect solution. He would use Silver’s pride against her.

  Smug in his brilliance, Drew purchased the two Airstreams and arranged to have them transported to Silver. He knew she kept her current trailer in the huge, fenced lot behind the graphic design and printing store. On the morning of, the trucker dropping off the trailers texted Silver that her delivery was thirty minutes out. He also gave Drew a heads-up. Drew arrived just as the delivery did and told himself the fireworks would be worth it. That or he would be dead, and hey, then he wouldn’t care.

  Silver stood in the middle of the paved lot, frowning mightily, with her hands on her hips. Drew pulled up just as she started explaining to the delivery guy that she hadn’t bought the trailers.

  “I wanted to,” she said, looking adorably confused. “I’ve been by to look at them a half-dozen times, but I never...”

  Her voice trailed off when she spotted Drew walking toward her. He figured confusion would quickly spiral into good, old-fashioned rage any second now. Three, two...

  “Did you have something to do with this?” she demanded, glaring at him. “What is going on? Why are you here? Why do I have trailers? Dammit, Drew, what have you done?”

  He motioned to the delivery driver, who was surreptitiously inching backward toward the safety of his cab.

  “Sign the paperwork, Silver.”

  “I will not. These are not my trailers.” She folded her arms across her chest. “And you can’t make me.”

  Drew told himself he would admire the way she looked in tight jeans and tank top, with her long blond hair pulled back in a ponytail, later. After all this was settled, he would try to figure out if the tattoo on her left arm was new, because he sure didn’t remember it and he’d seen every inch of her.

  “I can’t make you? That’s mature.” He motioned for the driver to give him the clipboard. “I’ll sign for them. Let’s get them unloaded.”

  “No,” Silver said forcefully. “I will not let you put them here. This is my property.” She hesitated. “I rent this space.”

  “I really have a schedule to keep,” the driver said, looking anxious.

  “Leave ’em by the curb.” Drew grinned. “There’s plenty of room and that’s public property.”

  “The Happily Inc police department won’t let you park them there indefinitely,” Silver told him. “It’s a violation of code.”

  “Or so you hope.”

  Drew wasn’t concerned. There was no way Silver would leave her precious trailers unprotected for more than a day or two. She might take a while to come around but he was confident she would see the beauty of his plan. And if she didn’t, well, he could take a nice long trip and see the country in one of his two Airstreams.

  The trailers were unhitched and backed into place in a matter of minutes. Drew pocketed a copy of the paperwork and the driver took off, nearly burning rubber in his haste to get away. Silver waited until he was gone before approaching Drew. Her pale blue eyes filled with icy rage while her whole body stiffened, as if she were doing her best not to kill him.

  “Whatever you’ve done, I don’t want any part of it,” she said, poking him in the chest hard enough to bruise. “You think you’re so slick and that you can manipulate me, but you’re wrong. I don’t care why you did this or what you think is going to happen, but you are the wrongest kind of wrong there is. You don’t get to dictate my life.”

  He’d been hoping they’d moved past politely acknowledging each other to being something closer to friends, but based on her behavior, he’d been a little too optimistic. Or maybe her anger was about something else, he thought. Maybe it was about not being sure what he expected from her in return. Maybe she was worried he was dangling an Airstream-sized carrot and she was going to have to make a choice she wouldn’t like to get it.

  He had assumed enough time had passed for her to think better of him, but now he wasn’t sure. As to the trailers, he was simply going to wait her out.

  “I’m not dictating anything,” he told her, careful to keep his voice neutral. “I have an idea I hope you’ll find interesting. When you’re ready to talk.”

  The glare turned into a glower. “I’ll never be ready to talk to you.”

  With that, she turned her back on him and walked away. Drew took a few minutes to inspect the interiors before locking up both trailers. He’d taken the day off work, so didn’t have to worry about getting back to the bank. He would run some errands, grab a couple of sandwiches for lunch, then return to the trailers and wait. He had a feeling it wouldn’t take long to lure out Silver.

  As he walked to his car, he wondered if he’d made a massive miscalculation. Maybe she wouldn’t come around. Maybe she really did hate him. Regardless, he had to try. Doing the right thing was part of his DNA and how he tried to live his life. Whenever he’d stepped away from that path, he’d been overwhelmed with regrets. Maybe not at the time, but later and permanently. Not marrying Silver Tesdal when she’d been pregnant with their child was the biggest regret of all.

  CHAPTER TWO

  “EITHER TALK TO him or I’m calling the police,” Wynn said as she checked a printed wedding invitation against the approved proof.

  “He’s not breaking the law.” Silver did her best to look out the window without being seen by anyone outside the building—namely a tall, possibly good-looking guy sitting in an Airstream.

  “Drew’s not the one I’m going to have arrested,” her friend murmured without looking up. She held her long, dark curly hair out of her way as she turned her head to study the invitation from every angle.

  “You wouldn’t!”

  Wynn looked up from the proof. “I wouldn’t,” she agreed, “but you are starting to get on my nerves. Come on, Silver. This isn’t like you. Grow a pair and deal with Drew or take a baseball bat to his head, but don’t dither. It’s freaking me out.”

  “I don’t know what to do,” Silver admitted.

  “You know exactly what to do. The problem is much more that you don’t want to do it.” Wynn nodded at her assistant. “They’re perfect. Print them. The bride wants two hundred. Let’s do a run of two-fifty, just in case.”

  “You got it, boss.”

  Wynn returned her attention to Silver. “You need trailers—he has trailers. Yes, he’s going to want something in exchange. So go find out what it is.” She shrugged. “I doubt it’s sex. No sex is worth two of those.” She pointed toward the trailers. “Not even sex with you.”

  “Maybe I’m amazing.”

  “No one is that amazing.”

  Silver had to agree with her. The trailers were so wonderful. She was desperate to go explore them, to touch every surface and imagine the possibilities, only she couldn’t give in. Whatever Drew had planned, it was going to be bad
for her.

  “He’s trying to lure me,” Silver said, looking out the window again.

  “And it’s working. Now get on out there and find out what he wants. I think Hunter left some sports equipment in the back room. You can go see if there’s a baseball bat for you to borrow if that makes you feel better.”

  “I don’t need a baseball bat.”

  Maybe a little courage and some backbone, she thought as she straightened her shoulders. Dammit, why did this always happen? In every other situation in life she was strong and powerful, but when it came to Drew she was little more than a whimpering mess.

  “Okay, I’m going out there to confront him.”

  “Good luck.”

  Silver nodded. She could do this, she told herself. She’d handled much-tougher situations when it came to Drew. For ninety-one magical days the summer she’d turned eighteen, she’d loved him with every fiber of her being. She’d given herself to him, heart and soul, and then she’d pretended she was totally fine when he went off to college. She’d even had the smarts to break up with him so that he could go live his life without her. She’d told him that they were never meant to be and that he should simply move on.

  She’d done the right thing and she could always be proud of herself for that. But it had been so incredibly hard. She’d loved him more than she’d thought it was possible to love anyone. She’d loved him knowing that loving a man turned a woman into a fool. She’d been a willing fool and she’d gotten her heart ripped out and chopped with a meat cleaver.

  “All in the past,” she whispered to herself as she crossed the sidewalk. “All in the past.”

  The door to the largest trailer was open, as if in invitation. She felt herself starting to hunch again, then forced herself to stand tall. Lured or not, she would walk in proud and strong. Whatever was going on, she could handle it. She’d been through a whole lot worse with Drew.

  She stepped into the trailer. Drew sat at the long sofa, an e-reader in his hands. He glanced up and smiled.

  “Hi. How’s it going?”

  She ignored his questions and asked one of her own. “What are you doing here?”

  “Waiting for you. I have lunch, if you’re hungry.”

  He motioned to the built-in table and benches, as if expecting her to sit down. What was with him having lunch ready for the two of them? This wasn’t a social visit. Ack, she should have taken Wynn up on her offer of a baseball bat.

  Silver sank onto the padded bench. She put her hands on the table, then shoved them onto her lap only to put them back on the table. Everything about this felt weird and awkward and just plain uncomfortable. She wanted to run and scream, only before she could do either, she couldn’t help noticing the perfect lines of the trailer. The size was just right and with a little refurbishing, there could be so much storage. She would have room for a long bar and beer on tap and—

  “Turkey okay?” he asked, holding out two sandwiches. “Or ham?”

  “Turkey.”

  He passed it over, then grabbed them each a can of diet soda along with a pile of napkins before sitting across from her. He nodded at the interior of the trailer.

  “Needs a lot of work, but I see the potential.”

  “You see it?” She rolled her eyes. “You have no idea what this could be. To you it’s just some old trailer, but to me, it’s the next phase of my business. I’ve put thought into what I’m doing, Drew. I didn’t just write a check.”

  “Contempt for the very money you wanted to borrow for yourself.” His tone was mild, his expression more amused than offended. He took a bite of his sandwich. “Without the check you’re so willing to deride, there would be no trailers. At least not now.”

  He had a point, which really annoyed her.

  “Fine,” she grumbled as she unwrapped her sandwich. “Why are you here?”

  “I’m living the dream. Why are you here?”

  She wondered if it would be wrong to kick him right in the shin. So much violence, she thought with a sigh. Her visceral reaction to Drew was because she knew he had all the power and she had none. Not a situation she enjoyed, ever.

  Instead of answering, she started eating her sandwich. He continued with his and they had lunch in complete silence. He finished first. He opened a bag of chips, offered it to her, then spoke.

  “So here’s the thing,” he began. “My grandfather is thinking of retiring.”

  “Okay.” Hardly news. Grandpa Frank wasn’t a young man. He was charming and vibrant but well past the age of retirement.

  “There are complications,” he continued. “Namely who is going to be chairman of the board when that happens.”

  “Why is there a question? You’re the heir apparent, aren’t you?” Drew had been the firstborn of the firstborn. With great power and all that. He had been destined to run the bank since before he’d started kindergarten. Back when they’d been dating, he’d talked about his future with excitement and anticipation. Drew had actually liked the idea of being in banking. Crazy, but that was Drew.

  “Libby wants to throw her hat in the ring.”

  “I wish you’d told me that before I ate my sandwich,” she said, pushing away the second half. “Why is she even in contention?”

  “Technically anyone can throw his or her hat in the ring. I’m the obvious choice, but that doesn’t mean the bank is my only interest.”

  “I thought that was all you’d been trained to do. Isn’t that the point of your entire existence? You love the bank. Don’t tell me you don’t want to be the bank king right here in town. As if.”

  He smiled at her. “Silver, we all grow and change. I have. Every now and then I like to do something unexpected, just to see who’s paying attention.”

  “I have no idea what that means.”

  “Me either but it sounds good.” He leaned back against the bench. “So here’s the thing. I have these two trailers.”

  She’d just started to relax, she thought as her entire body stiffened. She had no idea what was going on, but she had a bad feeling this might be a game to him. A cruel game with her as the target.

  She remembered when they’d played different types of games, when their sport had been about pleasing each other. They’d been so desperately in love—or at least she had been. She was less sure about him. Despite his protestations at the time, in the end, he’d left her without a backward glance.

  Not anything she needed to deal with right now, she told herself. She had to focus on the problem at hand—namely what did he want in return for the two Airstreams?

  He put his large hands on the table and leaned toward her. “I’d appreciate it if you’d just listen to what I have to say, and then we’ll discuss it.”

  She had no idea what “it” was, nor did she want to promise to not interrupt, or scream or hit him with something. But if she did anything but nod, he would suspect she was more upset than she should be.

  “Fine,” she said. “Talk.”

  “I want to buy into your business as a minority partner.”

  “What? Are you insane? Did you fall and hit your head? A minority partner? A partner? Of my business? The one I conceived of and saved for and started and have made successful all on my own?” She glared at him. “By. My. Self. There’s only been me, Drew. Just me. A partner. Are you on crack?”

  He smiled. “As long as you’re willing to listen.”

  She leaned back and crossed her arms over her chest. “Go ahead.”

  “I want to start building my personal portfolio. I’ve been thinking of buying into several businesses around town. If that works out, I’ll expand my empire, so to speak, and look for opportunities in Palm Springs, maybe Riverside or San Diego. When Libby turned down your loan I realized that I had a chance to act.” One shoulder rose. “I’ll admit I was impulsive, buying the trailers, but I could see what you
wanted to do. I like your business plan. You’ve thought it all through.”

  She told herself the compliment didn’t matter. She didn’t need or want his approval. He was giving her an opportunity to expand—that was what was important.

  “How do you see this working?” she asked, relaxing only slightly.

  “I would want to be a real partner. I’d want to help with future planning and really be involved. Obviously I have a full-time job, but I could help out when you’re shorthanded. Your work is mostly on the weekends, when I’m off.”

  She snorted. “You’d work parties?”

  “Why not?”

  “Gee, I don’t know. Have you ever been a professional bartender? Or even an amateur one? Do you have the slightest idea what it’s like to serve drinks to two or three hundred people in a very short period of time? Do you have a bartender’s license? Do you know the difference between a mojito and a margarita?”

  “Tequila.” He chuckled. “Okay, I’d have to learn to be a bartender. I’m saying I’m willing to do that. I want to do that. I want to be more than the guy with a check. I want to be invested.”

  Her stomach clenched. Nerves, she told herself. Just nerves and a dose of apprehension. “Are you going to bartending school?”

  “I was hoping I could learn some online and you’d teach me the rest. Silver, I’m a hard worker, I’m available nights and weekends and I’m not going to run off with the tip money.”

  “You couldn’t just loan me the money to buy the trailers?” she asked before she could stop herself. While she never thought she would even think the question, let alone say it, the truth was owing him money would be way better than giving up part of her business.

  “I could, but I’d rather do this.”

  Typical. Men wanted what they wanted and the rest of the world didn’t matter at all. “Maybe the hardware store in town would like a buy-in.”