Page 51 of Marrying the Enemy

“Oh. The Galapagos. Right. Mom was looking forward to that. Tsk. Okay, we can cover family stuff later, too.” She waved. “You two talk business while I eat.”

They did, discovering quickly that they were mostly on the same page, even sharing the same concerns over how much they should integrate the two companies.

“You should put together a task force,” Eve interjected. “Jackson would be a good lead, which might not be your first choice, if you’re worried about bias,” she acknowledged in Dom’s direction. “But you want someone with attention to detail, who will keep you out of trouble with the FTC, but could find where the alignments would reduce costs versus where the individual branding is an advantage.”

Dom looked to Nico.

Nico knew exactly what he was thinking and said, “I don’t hate the idea.”

“Of Jackson?” Eve looked up from her plate of fruit.

“Of you.” Dom sent a patronizing glance at Nico. “This is what happens when you hold someone back. They lose sight of how much value they bring to a given situation.”

“Me? I’m biased on both sides,” Eve argued.

“Exactly,” Dom said. “You’d want what’s right for the whole, not one or the other. We’d need committees on both boards to provide arm’s length oversight.”

“Agreed. In fact, we can allocate a budget and let her run it as a consultant so she’s not on either payroll. She could hire her own team to evaluate and make recommendations.” Nico nodded. “But no more digs about how I can’t see her potential.”

“Sorry, Dom.” Eve’s hand came to rest on his. “Needling my brother over his colossal shortsightedness falls under my purview.”

“I defer to your expert knowledge on that front.” He shared an amused smirk with her and pinched her fingers into his palm.

“Are you two having fun?” Nico asked with heavy sarcasm. “Would you be interested in running a team like that?”

“You know...” Eve nodded. “I think I would.”

Eve was settling into something that felt a lot like marital bliss.

She hadn’t started working yet. She had hired an agency to work out the structure of her consultation proposal and they were being absolute sharks about it. That was earning her good-natured complaining from both Dom and Nico about the cost, but there was rueful approval in those remarks, too.

The negotiations on the post-nuptial agreement were going smoothly, but the reception date was still in the air while she waited for her parents to return from their trip.

In the meanwhile, Eve had lunch with Ingrid and two more of Dom’s sisters. Dom had wanted to come with her, acting so protective she couldn’t help loving him a little bit more, but she’d finally reminded him, “I can stand up to you, can’t I? Are you really worried I can’t handle her?”

With a grumble, he acknowledged Eve was a “pretty tough cookie” and let her go alone.

Thanks to Astrid paving the way, it hadn’t been too painful. His sisters were stilted, but Eve had the sense Ingrid’s presence kept them from being as welcoming as they might have been if she hadn’t been there.

Ingrid came across as cold and self-centered, but she also struck Eve as someone who lived in fear. Fear of being irrelevant, fear of losing what she had, fear of being judged. Eve left feeling sorry for her and the children who had to bear the weight of all that insecurity.

At least Ingrid had promised to put together a guest list which told her she was willing to attend. It was small progress, but progress all the same.

Finally, Eve’s parents returned home. They stayed in the Martha’s Vineyard house for a couple of nights to recover, then came into the city the day before her father’s procedure was scheduled.

Eve invited them to the penthouse for an early dinner. She kept the menu light, conscious of the fact her father would have to fast before his surgery tomorrow.

“You’re nervous,” Dom noted, stilling her hand as she tremblingly shifted a butter knife two millimeters—as though its position would affect the outcome of this meeting.

“This is a lot bigger than Daddy’s Little Girl marrying the town bad boy. I know you’re ready to let bygones be bygones, but I’m not sure he is and that puts me in the middle.”

“I would never ask you to choose between us, Evie.” He rubbed her arm through the soft wool sweater she wore over tailored blue trousers. “You asked me once how our marriage would bridge the divide. You’re it. You’re the bridge.”

“I hope that doesn’t mean I get walked all over,” she said wryly.

“No.” He cradled the side of her face in a warm hand. “You’re one of those feats of engineering that everyone marvels at because they thought it was impossible.”

“Your poetic turn of phrase is a marvel,” she teased, starting to lean into him, lifting her smiling mouth to invite a kiss.

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