Page 73 of Fair Trade
Mateo shakes his head. “Nothing crazy. Seemed a bit passive aggressive when we chatted during the charity game a while back. And from what Isa tells me, it seems like he treats Daisy more like a prop than a priority.” He sighs as he looks around the room. “I’ve only known Daisy for a short period of time, but even I know that she has a heart of gold. Any man who doesn’t kiss the ground she walks on isn’t worthy of her time.” His eyes bounce between Nick and me, a small smile playing on his lips. “But I guess Nick and I are the same in that regard. When we found the right woman for us, there was no turning back.”
Nick’s hold on me tightens as his gaze lands on mine. “You have no idea how right you are.”
thirty-five
I’ve been on edgesince the charity gala that almost turned into a crime scene.
I’m usually able to keep my emotions locked up tight around my sperm donor, but seeing his hands on Luisa made me see red.
And his mention of my grandfather’s will added fuel to the fire.
But then again, he could have just been schmoozing with the 1 percent of high society that his old money can’t seem to buy him a ticket into.
But it’s better to play it safe, especially since I now have Luisa. The fact that he’s in the city sniffing around could be a cause for concern. I’ll reach out to one of my guys and have him start looking into him to see if there’s anything I should keep my eye on.
He sure as hell isn’t here to see his daughter, since Daisy always gives me a heads-up when our dear old dad has decided that he’s due for a photo op with his kid and future son-in-law,who is a New York senator, currently in the running to be our new governor.
I don’t know how my father was able to influence Daisy in that situation, but the closer my sister gets to walking down the aisle with a man who has the emotional intelligence of a gnat, the more my mind races, running through ways I can help get her out of this engagement.
I know I’m hardly the person to come to for romantic advice, but I know my sister, and I know she’s not in love with that man, at least not anymore.
For the life of me, I can’t understand why she doesn’t walk away. She has the means to do so. I set up a trust fund that made her an overnight billionaire when she was twenty-one. Walking away shouldn’t be hard. It’s not like it’s something our father hasn’t taught us to do time and time again.
“Hey, you ready?” Luisa asks as she straightens her blazer for the hundredth time.
I tug on her hand, forcing her to leave the poor garment alone. “Are you?”
I’m supposed to be focusing on the press conference I’m about to sit in on where we’ll discuss the World Baseball Classic games. Although it’s no secret that what the journalists are really aiming for during the Q&A is information about Luisa and me.
We’ve sat with the PR team and have gone over our vague yet playful answers repeatedly. We’ll give an inch but make sure to circle back all conversations to the games.
She rolls her eyes. “Yeah, let’s get this over with. It’s always the same song and dance with these guys, trying to get a reaction out of me. It won’t work, but it’s annoying to sit through.”
“What do you mean?”
Someone from the PR team waves for our attention. “Okay, they’re ready for you.”
Luisa slips by me without answering, and my hand twitches with the desire to touch her.
We’ve been doing a lot of that lately. Touching.
But it’s only when there’s an audience. And if I’m being honest, I’m getting kind of sick of it.
I hate how I can see the desire in her eyes clear as day, yet the moment we pull away, she scans the room nervously, aware of the attention set on us, and retreats to a place in her mind where I can’t reach her.
I don’t want to keep playing this game, but I know it’s far too soon to broach the conversation, so I’ll have to keep biding my time.
I enter the room reserved for the media and take my seat at the table lined with microphones next to Luisa.
Pleasantries are quickly exchanged before the reporters get right to it. “Mr. Stonehaven, how would you compare running a media empire to running a Major League Baseball team?”
I’ve been asked this question countless times, and I’m well aware it’s a throwaway question meant to lower my guard for when they ask what they really want to know.
I give them the same tongue-in-cheek answer I always do and keep it moving along.
“Hey there, Luisa,” a fresh-faced journalist starts. I’m not too pleased with his unwarranted sense of familiarity with my wife, but it’s too early to start biting people’s heads off when I’m supposed to be selling the image of domesticated bliss.
“Hi, Jake.” Luisa nods.
