Our eyes hold and for the briefest of moments I think he’s going to kiss me. I want him to kiss me.

  It’s the dark night around us, the gin in my veins, the feeling that someone heard me … and more than anything? An undeniably blatant attraction.

  “Holden.” His name is a whisper I don’t even remember saying.

  Our eyes hold. His Adam’s apple bobs.

  “Good night, Rowan.”

  “You’re leaving? Are you telling me there’s something more important than me?” I tease.

  “Don’t ask questions you don’t want the answers to.” His smile is reserved as he takes a few steps back, his gaze roaming over me one last time. “And I’d opt for sapphires over rubies for you. They’re powerful. Regal. Confident.”

  “They’d clash with my dress.”

  “Then change the dress.” His gaze darts down to my parted lips. “Enjoy the rest of your evening,” he says and starts to walk away.

  “I refuse to believe what they say about you,” I blurt out.

  He pauses and looks back over his shoulder at me. “Do you think I care what they say?”

  “They’re all wondering who Holden Knight really is. Who he’s going to reel in, chew up, and then spit out.”

  He chuckles. “Good. Let them keep wondering.”

  “Nice to have met you, Mr. Knight.”

  The space between us does nothing to dissipate the electricity of our attraction or my desire for him to stay.

  “You might want to reserve that judgment,” he says before walking away without another word.

  FIVE

  Rowan

  “Shit. Shit. Shit.”

  How did I lose track of time? There’s no way I’m going to be on time for cocktail hour with the girls. Here’s to being fashionably late.

  I hastily gather the stuff up I’ve spread all over the conference room table. My laptop. Notepads scribbled with my handwriting. Graphs. Financials.

  It’s everything I’ve been poring over, trying to decipher and then commit to memory, so I can devise a plan to get TinSpirits out of the hole Rhett is currently driving us into. The same one Rhett doesn’t seem to worry much about.

  I may be “the face of the company,” but lately it feels like I’m the only one who is trying to save it.

  TinSpirits is one of the oldest signature spirits companies in the Carolinas. A company whose roots go back to Prohibition but that has adjusted and reinvented itself into what it is today—one of the leading canned cocktail brands in the region. But even with this recent success, why have our profits continued to wane? How do we have enough orders on the books for this year and beyond but are struggling to stay out of the red?

  Rhett blames our financial struggles on rising input costs, on global warming and its fallout, on the cost of manufacturing, but I’m not buying it. If that’s the case then we assess, adjust, and adapt.

  But we’re not doing that … and why not?

  The building is all but vacant as I make my way up to the top floor where my office is. There are a few stragglers here and there, no doubt finishing up some last-minute things before heading out for the weekend, but for the most part everyone has left.

  Like I should have hours ago.

  But all thoughts of a relaxing night out with my friends fall to the wayside when I pass the main conference room, notice its door shut, its blinds drawn, and hear voices on the other side of both.

  I knock and open the door before a response is given.

  All conversation stops.

  Alarm bells sound in my head as I take in those in the room. My brother, Rhett, the company’s CEO, sits at the head of the table. Chadwick Williams, Rhett’s best friend, the company’s COO, sits beside him, eyes huge and full of apology as they meet mine. His lips part as if he’s going to say something, but then snap shut just as quickly.

  The men sprinkled about the conference table avert their gazes rather than meet my eyes. Top management. Our lawyers.

  And all the board members.

  Those alarm bells turn into full-blown sirens.

  “What the hell is going on here?” I ask, stepping into the room where I rightfully have a place as TinSpirits’ vice president of marketing.

  Things that have felt amiss over the past few weeks flood my mind. Meetings held offsite that I learn about after the fact. Hushed conversations between Rhett and Chad in unoccupied offices. Constant appeasement from my brother. Chill out, Row. Nothing is going on. Quit being such a nag. Everything is under control.

  But this feels like anything but under control. More like a blindside.

  But in regards to what?

  “Rhett?” I demand.

  “I thought you were gone for the day.”

  Uncertainty tickles at the base of my neck. “I was supposed to be … and I have a feeling that’s exactly what you were expecting.”

  “Your car isn’t here.”

  I stare at my brother, hating the lump that’s lodged in my throat and the discord his lack of an answer has created. “It’s parked out back. I want an explanation as to what this is all about.”

  “It’s just board member stuff,” Rhett says.

  My spine stiffens immediately. Those are fighting words between us, and he knows it.

  “Board member stuff,” as in a board I don’t have a seat at because I’m not him. A man. My last name and the fact that my family founded the company hold no bearing here.

  More than aware of how triggering those words are to me, Chad offers me a smile that is a mix of placating and patronizing as he rises from his chair and moves around the table toward me. “It’s nothing major, Row. Just a few votes over mundane stuff and a little brainstorming afterwards.” I want to believe him—he’s never done anything to make me do otherwise. And yet unease tickles its way up my spine. “You know how Rhett and I like to throw ideas against a wall and see what sticks.”

  “Alone. Over a beer. Not here. Not like this with the company lawyers and the board present.” I try to keep the panic from my voice.

  “Isn’t this what you’ve been asking for? To shake things up a bit. To make some changes. Something to help increase our cash flow—”

  “Interesting way to phrase ‘a buyout,’” a voice at my back says. A voice that has me freezing in place. “Now, where were we, gentlemen?” Holden Knight asks as he rounds the conference room table, rolling up the sleeves of his dress shirt as he goes, with a nonchalant glance my way. His presence is a complete shock to my system. His words even more so. “And Rowan.”

  “I’m sorry. What did you say?” I choke over the words.

  Buyout?

  Bitterness coats my tongue and my body flushes with a heat that makes it hard to draw in a breath.

  I take in his dark hair, tanned skin, broad shoulders, and vibrant blue eyes that hold mine as he lifts one eyebrow. “Is there a problem, Miss Rothschild?”

  I’m reeling. From seeing him here. From the words he just uttered that I’m still trying to process. From the guilty grimace on Chad’s face and the measured look on Rhett’s that tell me what I just heard is true.

  The smile I offer in return is anything but warm. “Yes, Mr. Knight. A very big one.” I plant my hands on the table. Anything to steady my arms, which are shaking violently with the fury coursing through my body. “I would love to know why you’re standing in my boardroom.”

  “Your boardroom? Cute.” He lifts a brow, grinning smugly, before turning to Rhett and completely dismissing me. “Let’s continue where we left off, shall we?”

  “I was talking,” I say.

  “And now I am,” Holden asserts.

  He thinks he’s going to dismiss me? I glance around the room at people who are supposed to have my back. They all think I’m going to stand here and let this—whatever this is—go on? Fire burns up my spine. “Excuse me, but—”

  “As I was saying…” Holden lifts a hand to quiet me, and it only serves to infuriate me more.

  “Look. I’m trying to remain professional,” I say, struggling to keep my voice even. “But I’m on the cusp of losing my shit if one of you doesn’t tell me what the fuck is going on here.”

  His chuckle fills the room, doing nothing to ease the atmosphere that’s already rife with tension. His eyes meet mine and amusement glints in them. “From where I stand, I’d say you’re successful at the first. Not so much at the second.”

  I glare at him, his words repeated from the balcony that night. His response to my familial duties to “look pretty and keep my mouth shut.”

  His smile taunts me.

  My blood runs hot.

  Then cold.

  My heart tumbles in my chest as our conversation on the balcony replays through my mind. How he pushed me away. How he was indifferent. How he was a prick … right up until I introduced myself.

  The coughed choke when he heard my name.

  His sudden decision to stay. To talk. To answer my questions with questions.

  Dread filters through me.

  I did this.

  I gave him the info he needed. I led him right to the weak spots so he knew where to hit the hardest—or make the deal sweeter.

  Obscenities scream in my head and die on my tongue as he holds my disbelieving stare.

  Motherfucker.

  They’re all wondering who Holden Knight really is. Who he’s going to reel in, chew up, and then spit out.

  “So it’s us, then?” I ask.

  The sharpening of his smile tells me he knows exactly what I’m referring to. A private joke that I don’t find to be funny at all. His lack of a response is an answer in itself.

  Oh. Fuck. It is.

  Rhett moves in my periphery, and I whirl on him. “You sold the company?”

  “Some of the company. Think of it more like a partnership. We’ll be better off with a new—”

  “Are you out of your mind?” I shriek.

  “If the two of you want to have a sibling spat, the door’s right there. Please do it outside,” Holden says drolly, only fueling my rage.

  “I. Want. Answers.”

  Holden’s unamused sigh weighs down the room. His bored expression complements it. “It’s called a business deal. Two sides meet. Two sides negotiate. Two sides agree.” The lift of his eyebrows is condescending at best. “Would you like to sit quietly and watch? You might just learn something.”

  “Oh, fuck you,” I grit out.

  He smirks. “Go on.”

  Every part of my body feels like a coil about to snap. “If you’d think for a single goddamn second that you have any valid business dealings with TinSpirits, then you’d be mistaken.”

  Rhett’s chair squeaks as he shifts, but my stare doesn’t waver as Holden plants both hands on the conference room table, the veins in his forearms flexing. A flicker of that smirk ghosts over his lips. “You’re a bit late for that, Rowan. That negotiation part I just told you about? That’s been completed. You’re just in time to watch the ink dry on the letter of intent.” His eyes twinkle with smugness. “I think the word you’re looking for is ‘congratulations.’ You’re looking at the soon-to-be majority owner of TinSpirits.”

  This isn’t real.

  Can’t be.

  There’s no way this could be happening.

  I look over to Rhett, who’s looking down at the pen in his hands.

  Oh. My. God.

  He did this.

  That son of a bitch did this.

  “You’re so excited you’re speechless. I’m flattered,” Holden says, pulling my scrambled thoughts back to him and his arrogant smirk.

  “If you think I’m giving up my family business without a fight, you’re crazy.”

  The muscle in his jaw pulses as he motions to the papers on the table. It’s the only hint of any reaction that he gives. “It doesn’t exactly look like you have a say in the matter.” He glances at the men around the room and smiles before looking back at me. “Does it, now?”

  His words are like acid churning in my gut. How did I not see him for what he was?

  “I was right. You are a prick.”

  “Never claimed to be any different, but I don’t think that has any bearing on my purchase.” He shrugs. “If I had to guess by your reaction, I’d say you’re against the deal.”

  “There isn’t going to be a deal.”

  “Gentlemen? She thinks what she has to say matters.” He crosses his arms and doesn’t back down from the challenge in my stare. “It doesn’t.”

  My pulse thunders. My head dizzies. “This isn’t happening,” I say more to myself than to anyone.

  “But it is.” Holden waves a dismissive hand that has me gritting my teeth and fisting my hands. “The board voted,” he states matter-of-factly, as if my whole world—my goals, my dream—hasn’t just been yanked out from beneath my feet. “A letter of intent has been signed. Due diligence is up next. Then we’ll finalize.”

  Letter of intent has been signed. Ink drying.

  My chest constricts.

  “It’s not my fault you’re the face and not the name. If you were, then you might have had a chance to have your staunch displeasure recorded in the minutes,” Holden taunts. My jaw is clenched so hard I wouldn’t be surprised if my teeth cracked. “Any complaints should be taken up with current management.”

  “Meaning you.”

  “Yes.” Sound. Resolute. Unflinching. “Shortly it will be.”

  “And what do you plan on doing as the majority owner?” I demand.

  His shrug is anything but apologetic. “Whatever I deem appropriate to stop this company from dying.”

  My head spins at the blindside. It takes everything I have not to march over to the table and tear up the documents there. But I don’t, can’t, because I’m frozen in place with disbelief.

  My dream.

  To own the company. To take the helm and remake it into the giant it once was. All stripped away without me ever getting the chance.

  It’s not like Dad or Rhett would have considered me capable, but I still would have fought like hell to prove otherwise. I would have let Rhett screw up enough, put the company in dire enough straits that my dad and the board members would have no choice but to let me swoop in to save the day.

  The last thing I anticipated was for Rhett to look at outside investors and capital. To invite the one thing our father said he’d never allow—outside ownership. The one thing Gran would have fought vehemently against.

  Fury replaces the disbelief as I turn to my brother with a voice cold enough to cause frostbite. “You’re a spineless coward.”

  His shrug of indifference enrages me. “I’m trying to save the company. I’d think you’d be happy about that.”

  The company you were running into the ground.

  “We’ve weighed so many options, Row,” Chad interrupts, clearly sensing a no-holds-barred fight is about to happen. No doubt he wants to prevent it so we don’t put a bad foot forward with our new “partner.” “Bringing an outsider in who has a diverse portfolio, a proven track record, and strong capital is our best option.”

  Everyone shifts uncomfortably in their chairs.

  Everyone being the colleagues I look in the eyes on the daily or talk with on the phone regularly. Everyone meaning people who I thought had my back, who would at least have given me a hint at what’s been going on.

  I scan their faces and the ones who have the guts to meet my eyes do so with pained expressions. But is the pain from screwing me over or because they don’t want this deal to happen?

  “The board backs this?” I ask.

  Rhett nods. “Pretty sure Holden made it clear that they do.”

  “I want to hear it from your mouth.”

  He nods. “They do.”

  Fucking asshole.

  “Why wasn’t I informed?”

  “Because you’re not on the board.”

  The emotions raging through me leave me raw. My hands tremble and my head pounds. “You sold us out,” I whisper.

  “I did what I had to do,” Rhett says, his voice low and even.

  “Of course you did. Taking care of you is what you do best. Did you forget that it’s my company too? My family legacy? I could have turned this around myself.”

  “You’re in marketing, Row. The model on the ad campaigns. You don’t know what the hell you’re doing when it comes to profit margins and bottom lines,” Rhett says.

  “That’s your excuse?” I bite out. He’s wrong and he knows it. “Dad?”

  Rhett’s flicker of a smile says it all. Our dad knows. Approves.

  It seems I’m the only one who didn’t know.

  My heart twists. Gran would be rolling over in her grave knowing he’s selling what her grandfather started.

  Tears burn in my eyes as my pulse races with fury. I will not show any emotion. I will not give Holden the satisfaction of seeing me break. Of knowing I’m affected in any way, shape, or form.

  Your secret’s safe with me.

  And I will not acknowledge that I gave the asshole directly across from me, the one already dominating this conference room like he owns it, the ammunition he needed to know where to attack.

  Rhett may have weakened the company, but I led the wolf right into the henhouse.

  A henhouse that, clearly, he was already casing when we talked on the balcony.

  “Is the family drama done?” Holden looks from Rhett to Chadwick to me. “I don’t like my time wasted. Let’s start yet again, shall we?”

  “Please,” Chad says.

  “As the soon-to-be majority-owning entity of TinSpirits, there will be new commands and controls implemented immediately. You will be receiving an email by morning with a detailed list of expectations and pathways on how to move forward.”

  “What about layoffs?” Marcus asks at the far end of the table, concern etched in his expression. “Employees are going to worry.”

  It seems details haven’t been ironed out yet, and by the uncertainty in Marcus’s voice, maybe I was wrong. Maybe this has all been sprung on them as well.

  “Entry-level and intermediate employees need not worry. Their paychecks and jobs are secure. As for upper management? For you? That remains to be seen.” Holden offers a shark’s smile. The room does a collective shift of discomfort from effectively being put on notice.