No doubt Mia’s family was unhappy about her seeing him. He knew Mia was a rebel who’d buck any heavy-handed demand they made, but then again, he hadn’t gotten to the top of the corporate world by letting the chips fall where they may. He needed a counterbalance.

  Swinging around again, he tightened his hands on the chair rests. Alex McDonough.

  The thought had first occurred to him before the call with Larry.

  Alex was the husband of Mia’s cousin, Gia Serenghetti. He’d crossed paths with him at tech gatherings over the years and respected him. More importantly, he knew Mia was close to her cousin—he’d seen them with their heads together at more than one New York party over the years. And he’d bought a whole table at this charity dinner and still had seats to fill...

  He clicked on his computer mouse and opened a window to start an email to Alex. He quickly typed a few lines and then clicked to send. Then he leaned back, satisfied. Almost.

  When he got his father on the phone, they exchanged pleasantries. Now that Jakob Musil was older, he stuck closer to JM Construction’s management offices and delegated, so it didn’t completely surprise Damian that he was able to get his father on a call on the first attempt.

  “So,” he said after they’d been on the phone a few minutes, “how are things going with the purchase of Tevil Construction?”

  “They’re no longer for sale.”

  Damian let silence reign for a moment. “So they’ve decided to go with the Serenghettis’ offer?”

  “I didn’t say that,” Jakob responded gruffly. “They’ve taken themselves off the market. They’re no longer for sale.”

  Damian blew out a breath. “Well, that takes care of that problem.”

  “Maybe for you, but not for me. JM Construction needs to grow.”

  Damian zeroed in on the first part of his father’s statement. “Maybe for me? You’re suggesting—”

  “If I had won the bid for Tevil Construction, it would have made complications for you with Mia Serenghetti.”

  True, but lately, his concerns were more nuanced. “I guess there’s a silver lining.”

  “And you’re wise these days, too.”

  Damian ignored the note of sarcasm. “Dad, you’re sixty-two. Maybe it’s time to start taking it easy instead of trying to expand the business.”

  “What?”

  “Serg Serenghetti is already retired.”

  “He’s older than I am. And he had a stroke.” Jakob made a grumbling sound. “Besides, Serg has a son to run the company now.”

  “You’ve got Valentin.”

  “He just came aboard. How do you say? Reluctantly.”

  Damian knew his brother had kicked around bars in Welsdale, Springfield and beyond, playing gigs with his band and generally doing a good impression of being a footloose rocker. Still. “Listen, Dad, maybe Tevil is a headache that you’re better off without.”

  Damian could practically hear his father’s eyebrows lower over the phone.

  “You should be getting ready to enjoy your golden years.” Winding things down. Like Larry Bensen.

  “So you jump ship, but now you want to advise me on how to steer?”

  “Anyway, are you sure buying this company wasn’t just about the satisfaction of outflanking the Serenghettis?”

  Jakob spluttered. “Who put that foolish idea in your mind? Mia?”

  “No, I came up with the dumb thought all by myself.”

  His father guffawed.

  “I’ve got some good news for you.” This should buoy his father and take his mind off Tevil. “I’m buying the local television station.”

  “What? Which?”

  “WBEN-TV.”

  “I don’t watch much television. Too busy with work.”

  Precisely my point earlier. There was no doubt he’d gotten his work ethic from his father.

  “So you’ll be back in Welsdale now with this company.”

  Damian found himself nodding against the phone. “Maybe not in the way you expected, but I’ll be local.”

  “I always knew you’d come back.” There was a bark of laughter. “Ah.”

  Damian smiled.

  “The Musils are going into the television business.”

  “I guess they are, Dad.”

  “Did you open the box that I gave you?” Jakob asked, switching gears.

  “Yes.” It was no longer so painful to think of his mother. In fact, the memories brought fondness as much as sadness these days.

  “Your mother wanted you to have them when you got married—”

  What?

  “—or you and Valentin reached thirty. You know which happened first.”

  Yup. He’d been working nonstop for years—until recently. Sure, he and Mia had started as a pretend couple for business reasons, but she’d soon become his focus.

  His mother would have liked Mia.

  Damian sighed and then answered his father. “I’m not sad when I think of Mom now. Maybe that’s why I’m coming back. And to make her proud.”

  “I’m proud of you.”

  “I couldn’t have done it without you, Dad.”

  Damian realized this was as close as he and his father had come—since he’d moved away from Welsdale—to acknowledging how much they were still connected.

  “I’m glad to hear it,” Jakob said gruffly.

  * * *

  “You’ve got to save me,” Mia announced.

  Then she knocked back some wine that she’d brought with her before her gaze connected with Gia’s in the powder room mirror.

  “Mmm,” her cousin commented as she reapplied lipstick.

  Beyond the hushed and upholstered confines of the anteroom to the ladies’ restroom, hundreds of people dined at tables whose price per plate would certainly make her head spin, Mia thought. Gotham Hall was one of the city’s premier event spaces—a nine-thousand-square-foot ballroom under a stained-glass dome. Its imposing neoclassical facade was a Broadway landmark.

  Not that she knew the precise price tag of being here tonight. Damian had arranged everything. In fact, she’d been surprised to discover, when she’d arrived, that Gia and Alex were here, too, and seated at the same table. She’d only agreed to show up in a deal with the devil.

  Or so she tried to convince herself. The words rang hollow to her own ears. But the more she tried to extricate herself from her ties to Damian, the more entangled she seemed to become. He was seductive and enticing.

  She touched the fine filigree diamond necklace at her throat—one that came with matching earrings. Another loan from the jewelers, Damian had said. They had shown up at her door by courier after Damian had texted her to ask what color she’d be wearing tonight. She’d assumed he’d asked so that he could coordinate his own attire—not for the sake of picking out precious gemstones for her.

  Of course, since she’d gotten to know him better, she’d come to respect and...appreciate him. He wasn’t a bad guy just because of his last name—if she’d ever believed that to be the case. He’d defended her to her family, had her back with Carl and even been a pretend boyfriend during her interview with Katie.

  But anything more was too fraught with pitfalls...too everything, for that matter. They could remain acquainted—friends even. She stiffened at the thought of Damian dating another woman, and then shrugged off the feeling.

  Gia deposited her makeup in her handbag. “I think things are going well.”

  “Are you kidding?” Mia responded. “The evening has just begun, and Damian and I are practically striking sparks off each other.”

  Gia tossed her a sidelong look. “You know, I was surprised when Alex told me that Damian had offered us seats at his table for this event, especially since I’m a Serenghetti cousin and know all about the animosity between your family and his.”

  Mia turned wide eyes on her cousin. “He offered you seats?”

  Gia smirked. “You didn’t think it was a coincidence that Alex and I are here tonight, did you? No, we didn’t buy seats ourselves. But why didn’t you mention that you would be here?”

  “Why didn’t you?” Mia flushed. “Anyway, you were out of the country traveling. You were hard to get a hold of.”

  “And yet Damian managed to get off an email invite to Alex while we were in Japan.”

  Guilty. She’d been keeping mum about her relationship with Damian. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust Gia. It was that talking about it would lead to questions that she wasn’t prepared to answer. She wasn’t even sure if she had all the answers.

  “Then I realized that Alex and I may have been invited precisely because I’m a Serenghetti, not despite it.”

  Mia blinked. “What do you mean?”

  Her cousin gave her a disbelieving look. “Mia, the guy seems hooked on you. But he also knows your immediate family is suspicious of him. Obviously, Alex and I are here to help smooth things. It might make you more comfortable, and Damian could try to win over some of your other relatives.”

  Mia was floored. She’d just assumed earlier that since this was a big event for the tech industry, Alex had decided to show up and had brought Gia. Had Damian really gone to so much trouble for her...?

  Her cousin tossed her another sidelong look. “I see you took my advice that Damian might be worth more than one date.”

  “Whose side are you on?”

  “Yours of course.”

  “You could have fooled me,” Mia muttered under her breath.

  “I never really liked Carl.”

  “Now you tell me?” Mia peered at herself critically in the mirror. “Next to Damian, he’s a domesticated kitten.”

  “Exactly. Carl was too tame for you.”

  “So he got hitched to someone else to get away from the wild cat?”

  Gia smiled. “Is that what Damian thinks of you?”

  Mia flushed. “Who? Damian the tamer?”

  Gia laughed. “He’s got an appropriate name. Not boring.”

  Like Carl. Mia heard her cousin’s unspoken words.

  “Maybe he’s got the right temperament for the boardroom,” she huffed. “But he’s got another think coming if he aims to tame a Serenghetti.”

  “From the way he was looking at you during dinner,” Gia murmured, “that’s not what he has in mind. Eat you up is more like it.”

  Mia turned to face Gia. “Right, and this has to stop.”

  “Why?”

  “He’s a Musil.” And so many other reasons. He unsettled her. He got under her skin.

  “So you’re not supposed to trust him but you want to, um, make it with him?”

  She’d already done the deed with him—and it had been spectacular. And from all appearances, he wanted to be invited back for more. “He’s...unpredictable.”

  She adjusted the shoulder strap of her dress.

  “I think,” Gia said, gazing at Mia’s gown, “in this case you were done in by your own sartorial skills. Damian’s reaction is very predictable...”

  Mia bunched the skirt of her dress in one hand. “What? This?” This old thing? “I designed it for my senior project at Parsons years ago.”

  She had not gone to any great lengths to please Damian tonight.

  “How can I forget?” her cousin responded lightly. “But cleavage never goes out of style.”

  Okay, so the gown was daring—but that had been the point when she’d been trying to earn a top grade at Parsons. She’d been a twenty-two-year-old who’d been starry-eyed at the end of a four-year college stint in New York City.

  The neckline of the gown plunged between her breasts in the front and even lower in the back. The bodice was a deep blue velvet and the skirt a waterfall of tulle in an ombre pattern that ended in the palest of aqua at her feet. She’d had to use fashion tape to keep everything in place because she’d gotten curvier in the years since she’d graduated.

  “You look like a mermaid emerging from the waves.”

  “Thanks for remembering my thesis show,” Mia remarked dryly. “But did you have to mention it to Damian, too?”

  Gia gave an impish smile. “Just making conversation. He seemed to...admire the handiwork.”

  Mia rolled her eyes. “I’m supposed to be the one who makes waves.”

  Gia laughed. “What can I say? Marriage agrees with me. I’ve started living outside the boxes of the comic strip that I draw. In fact, you should try it.”

  Mia widened her eyes. “What? Marriage?”

  Gia turned to leave. “No, sex with a guy who gets hot under the collar merely looking at you.”

  Mia clamped her mouth shut. If only her cousin knew. Damian didn’t just get hot under the collar, he got her hot...all over. Where was water to douse the flames when she needed it?

  When she and Gia eventually got back to their table, Damian threw her simmering look, and Mia took another gulp of her wine.

  Her cousin tossed her an amused little smile from across the table, and Mia responded with a small frown.

  Glancing around, Mia spotted Carl and his wife chatting with other guests a few tables away. She nearly groaned aloud. Great. As if this evening could get any more awkward.

  Carl was part of the tech world, too, and he and Damian likely still moved in overlapping circles...

  Pasting a smile on her face, she leaned toward Damian. Obligingly, he tilted in her direction, giving her his ear. His closeness made her breasts tingle.

  “I didn’t know Carl was going to be here,” she murmured.

  Raising his gaze, he gave her quizzical look. “Neither did I. Problem?”

  Of course not.

  Damian glanced past her. “Here they come.”

  Next thing she knew, Damian was draping an arm along the back of her chair, his fingers grazing her exposed spine in a passing caress.

  When Carl hailed them, Damian turned and stood, and Mia reluctantly followed, depositing her napkin beside her plate. Damian slipped his arm around her in a signal of...support...affection?

  Catching the interested expression on Gia’s face, Mia could tell her cousin was savoring the show.

  Drat.

  Damian and Carl shook hands.

  For the first time, Mia got a good look at Carl’s wife. The woman she’d built up to be a bit of a femme fatale was actually...a bespectacled and feminine version of Carl. Curly dark hair framed her face in a style that was too wild to be a true pixie cut, and big brown eyes peeked at her from behind large frames.

  It seemed, Mia thought bemusedly, she’d been dumped for someone who seemed to be Carl’s complete counterpart.

  “Laura, this is Mia Serenghetti,” Carl said, looking a bit sheepish. “Ah...”

  Laura jumped into the gap, grasping Mia’s outstretched hand in both of hers and leaning in with an earnest smile. “It’s such a pleasure to meet you.”

  Mia couldn’t detect any smugness, just sincere interest. Laura hadn’t gone with the tried-and-true I’ve heard so much about you, which would have been awkward under the circumstances.

  “It’s nice to meet you, too,” Mia murmured.

  “We were making the rounds of, ah, the tables,” Carl put in, “and thought we’d, ah, say hello.”

  “I’m such a fan of your work,” Laura said, still grasping her hand.

  “You are?” Mia couldn’t keep the shocked surprise from her voice.

  Laura nodded, finally dropping her hand. “Yes. I was at your fashion show two years ago with friends. I own a jumpsuit from the collection that you showed.”

  “Oh!” Bemusement turned to feeling flattered. If the timeline was right, Laura had known of her even before she’d met Carl.

  “When Carl mentioned that he’d once dated you, I couldn’t believe it.” Laura’s eyes sparkled behind her glasses.

  Judging from the way Carl blanched, it seemed he hadn’t gone into too many details with Laura about the precise timeline of his breakup.

  Mia knew she had to play along; forgiveness was the best policy. “You should come by my studio for another jumpsuit.” She winked. “Consider it a wedding gift.”

  Carl looked relieved, while Damian tossed her an amused look.

  “I couldn’t,” Laura protested. “I know a boutique in Midtown that carries your designs—”

  Mia waved a hand. “I’ll be sending out next season’s styles soon. I’ll give you a peek.”

  Laura nodded. “Oh, right. You mentioned it in Brilliance magazine.”

  Mia blinked. “You read it?”

  The issue with her interview wasn’t supposed to be out until—

  “They posted a teaser on their website.”

  Mia stilled. She needed to get her cell phone.

  Carl and Damian made some small talk for a few more minutes.

  Then Carl touched Laura’s arm. “Well, it was great to run into you guys. We’re going to keep circulating.”

  Carl and Damian shook hands before the other couple moved off.

  Mia caught Gia’s expression as she sat back down. Her cousin looked as if she could barely contain her curiosity.

  “I guess that’s what they call conscious uncoupling?” Damian murmured, retaking his seat.

  “Who, me and Carl...?” Ironically, that’s what she’d vowed she and Damian would do—first after the Ruby Ball, and then after Katie’s interview. Except here they were.

  Mia pulled up Brilliance’s web site on her phone and, after a quick scan of links, found the mention of her interview.

  “Who else?” Damian replied dryly. “Well done, by the way. A lot harder to hold a grudge when you meet the enemy like that, isn’t it?”

  “Yup.” She held up her phone. “And speaking of enemies, thanks to Katie’s interview, everyone thinks the Serenghettis and Musils are lovers, not fighters.”

  TWELVE