Page 8 of Centurion

“Huh, you don’t say.” Ronnie put her glass down. “And for that, you were sent to the gala?”

“Indirectly. See, the tit-for-tat got out of hand. One thing led to another, and our mothers decided to use their influence to force us to call a truce. We ended up in the middle of nowhere.

Mountains higher than you could see to the top of, left in the freezing cold, looking for stupid gold coins and following longitude and latitude directions I had to decipher to get to a certain location by a certain time.” He rolled his eyes. “It was horrid.”

She cocked her head. “You had to work as a team?”

“Yeah, he used dynamite to scare away the wolves, and I navigated.” He took another bite of his sandwich.

“Dynamite to scare away wolves?”

“Yep. Real ones, the wild kind. They’re a lot bigger than you’d think.” Con made a face. “That was pretty ingenious, but I won’t tell him that.”

“And that has what to do with how you got to the gala?”

“Well, to get my ass off the top of that mountain, I promised my mother I would do a fewfamilyobligations for her. The gala was one of them.”

“Why would she send you to the gala?” Ronnie took a bite of her sandwich.

“You don’t know my mom, do you?” When Ronnie lifted her eyebrows and shook her head, he sighed. “My mother is Olivia Solomon.” He tilted his head and looked at her. The blank expression told him she didn’t recognize the name. “Better known as O. H. Solomon.”

Ronnie's mouth dropped open before she snapped it shut. “Oh.”

O. H. Solomon was the richest woman in the world—well, the richest woman who didn’t inherit her money from her husband. She and his two older brothers ran a worldwide company that spanned the breadth of global investing. Anyone who didn’t know about O. H. Solomon Investments had no television access or had been living under a rock.

“‘Oh’ is right.” Conner laughed. “My mother detests Sophia Laurelton, our ever-so-kind hostess tonight. But one must make an appearance and, by all means possible, outdo each other.” He said the last part with his nose in the air and disdain dripping from his voice, just like his mother.

“But not tonight?” Ronnie leaned forward and picked up her beer.

“No, she had other engagements. Which means she’s taking over another company or something like that. At least, I’m assuming that’s what she’s doing. She loves shoving a couple of handfuls of humble pie down Sophia’s throat once a year.” He took another bite of his food, looked at her, and pointed.

“Why was I at the gala?” She smiled at him. That was not the question he wanted answered, but he’d take it. He nodded.

“I’m a dress designer, a good one. The dress Sophia was wearing was one of my originals. She saw it during fashion week in Paris. The fashion house I have my label with allowed me to present my gowns this year.” She smiled, and it was a genuine one. God, he could sit there and watch her smile all night.

“But how did you get invited?” He reached for his beer. “Sophiadoes notinvite the hired help.”

Ronnie chuckled. “On a recent telephone conversation, a well-placed individual suggested that inviting her dress designer and flaunting the fact she’d discovered me would enhance her status and the appreciation of her gown.”

Con narrowed his eyes. “Would I know this well-placed individual?”

Ronnie smiled. “More than likely, you’ve heard the name before, but I’m not at liberty to discuss that contact.”

“And that leads me back to my original question. Why don’t you date?”

Ronnie made a face. “How did that conversation lead you back to my social life?”

“I’m not sure, but it did. Why don’t you date?”

She lowered her eyes and stared down at her beer for a moment. She drew a deep breath and sighed. “Several reasons, actually. A family that’s all up in my business, even though I’m an adult. History with several complete douche canoes and my current occupation.”

“You mean your part-time gig? The one where you go skydiving?” He took a sip of his drink.

“That’s the one.” She laughed.

“Well, let’s see.” He put down his glass and leaned forward. “You can’t have a more intrusive family than I do, and I’ve learned how to keep them at arm’s length. I’m assuming you have, too.”

She lifted her glass without answering, so he went on. “The douche canoes are regrettable, but they’ve paved the way for a certain someone, namely me, who was raised to treat a lady as a lady should be treated, and thirdly, I know all about your side gig.”

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