Chapter Twenty-Two

“Look Ms. Marcano—Isabelle—I appreciate that this is a big deal for your client, but you and I both know that in the grand scheme of things, this transaction is minor, straightforward and, to be blunt, extremely favorable to him in a number of key areas. I’m sure both of us have more important matters to focus on. The sooner we can wrap this up, the better for everyone.”

Izzy walked through the mostly empty lobby at the inn, breathing deeply to keep a lid on her temper. Skyline’s attorney’s attempt to pressure her into accepting their accelerated timeline by positioning it as a win-win for both of them struck her as the worst sort of disrespect. While, in theory, they both aimed to bring the deal to fruition, they were not on the same side, and his neither-of-us-have-time-to-waste-on-this-negotiation was nothing but self-serving bullshit.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Davis—Gordon”—she gave his name the same patronizing inflection he’d given hers—“I don’t agree. All my clients, regardless of size, deserve my diligent efforts to ensure they fully understand the terms of the transaction. I’m sure you wouldn’t want your client to think this deal wasn’t a priority for you.” Unfortunately, or maybe fortunately, she couldn’t get into a heated debate about it. Davis had called her in response to the email she’d sent first thing Monday morning, indicating they couldn’t commit to a hard and fast timeline of two weeks. He’d caught her on her way downstairs to meet Trace. She had to be careful what she said.

Gordon sputtered a bit over her reply. She ignored the bluster and took a peek out one of the street-facing lobby windows. Yesterday’s sun-streaked evening skies had been replaced by a layer of still, gray clouds as opaque as a flannel blanket. No sign of Trace yet, so she took a seat in one of the deep leather chairs positioned in clusters around the lobby and placed her messenger bag on the small table between her chair and one angled in the other direction.

“I will commit to move things forward as expediently as possible. My client doesn’t want to draw things out. However, we’re not prepared to commit to a timeline other than the amount of time necessary to understand and evaluate the terms. It takes what it takes.”

Gordon’s overly solicitous voice slithered over the line. “Isabelle, I understand what’s really going on here. I’ll let my client know my counterpart is an associate rather than a partner and explain the extra layer of approval that involves. You’re junior. When you encounter business and legal provisions you don’t grasp, you run them past the partner. We’ll have to accept the inherent inefficiency of your learning curve.”

Jesus. What a pompous, contentious bastard. She dug into her messenger bag and pulled out her HH&R water bottle. “I’m a fifth-year associate, Gordon. Hardly junior. But I leave your client’s expectations to you to manage, as they’re not my responsibility. I’ve been forthright regarding our intentions and timeline.”

“I’ll be forthright as well, then. Regarding the outstanding due diligence requests, we’d like to see the tax returns, any safety inspection reports—”

“They’re exempted from Part 139 safety certification, due to location and size.” Learning curve, her ass.

“I’m aware of that, but surely there are other safety inspections. Fire? Insurance? Speaking of which, we need certificates of insurance, and the details of any claims affecting coverage limits currently in place. We also require information concerning any notice of claims you’ve furnished to the carriers or any potential claims you have knowledge of, regardless of whether notice of same has been furnished to the carrier. My client needs to know if he’s buying trouble.”

“All of this is already on my revised list. I’ll be working on it this week.”

“Fine. Don’t expect the revised term sheet or purchase agreement until we’ve had adequate time to review and fully understand the documents you provide to us.”

With that pissy parting shot, the line went dead. Izzy sagged back in her chair, prepared to swallow a big gulp of water.

“Excuse me?”

She nearly choked. Patting her chest, she turned to the chair angled away from hers and met the inquisitive gaze of an older woman with short gray hair and direct hazel eyes. “Um, yes?”

“Sorry to startle you.” She extended a hand. “You must be Trace’s Isabelle. I’m May Hooper, attorney at law. I have an office on Main Street. Most folks around here just call me Hoop.”

“Hello.” She shook the older woman’s hand and quickly re-ran her side of the conversation with Gordon in her head. Nothing terribly revealing, thank goodness. “Most people call me Izzy. Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise. I was hoping I’d get the chance. I apologize for eavesdropping, but I overheard enough of your call to realize I had an attorney sitting beside me, and that could only be one person.” Pulling her mouth into a grimace, she went on, “Sorry you’re working during your vacation.”

“It comes with the territory. When the deal’s on, the deal’s on.”

“Oh, I know. Before I traded life in the lower forty-eight for a small, general law practice in Captivity, I worked those hours. For just over twenty-five years I was an energy litigation associate, and then partner, in the Los Angeles office of a large firm representing oil and gas sector clients.”

“Wow. That was quite a trade.” A couple weeks ago, she would have battled the urge to ask what possibly could have compelled the woman to give up such a high-flying and lucrative career for life in Captivity, but, strangely, now it didn’t seem so inconceivable.

Hoop laughed. “Yes. Especially since, at the time, I wasn’t aware I was looking for a change.”

Curious, and fairly certain Hoop had opened the door to her curiosity with the remark, she went ahead and asked, “What made you realize you were?”

“Love, of course.” She smiled as she said it, and her face lit up. “When I turned fifty my college girlfriends prevailed on me to join them for a milestone birthday Alaskan adventure. I figured, what the hell. Might as well see something of the state for which I’d spent the better part of a career litigating disputes over the routing of pipelines. There I was, staring down the half-century mark, married to the job, putting in twenty-five hundred billable hours a year and not taking much note of how many antacids and antidepressants I needed to do it.”

The hint of understanding in Hoop’s eyes left her with the uncomfortable awareness that the woman saw more of her than Izzy hoped. “I’m not saying that happens to everyone. It happened to me. And still, for the first several days of the cruise, I couldn’t relax. Couldn’t let go of work. It totally defined me. Then the ship anchored in the inlet, and I stepped off the shore boat onto the dock right down there in Captivity Cove, to be met by this moose of a man retained to be our guide for a two-day shore excursion in Captivity and a fly-over of Glacier Bay National Park.”

“Was it love at first sight?” Where had this romantic bent come from?

Hoop disabused her of it. “Goodness no! I thought he was an uncouth behemoth. As soon as he found out what I did for a living, he thought I was the devil in designer hiking gear. But the sparks.” The woman winked, and years fell away. “The sparks were hard to ignore. Two days stretched into a week, and then another, and I never did catch up with the ship. I flew home on the last day of my vacation miserable, having turned down a presumptuously arrogant marriage proposal from an infuriating, yet wonderful man, because what sane, responsible woman chucks her whole world for a vacation romance? I walked into my office the next morning, took an abusive call from an especially demanding client, and realized it wasn’t what I wanted anymore. I’d made a terrible mistake turning down that presumptuous proposal from that infuriating man.”

“So, you just…walked away?”

“I ran. Not away, but toward. Toward that man who saw what I really wanted, really needed, even when I couldn’t see it for myself. I ran toward balance. Toward a small law practice with big impact on the people I see every day. Not corporations. People.”

“And you’ve never regretted it?” The answer was written all over Hoop’s face, but she had to ask.

“Not once in the last fifteen years. Carl’s still mule-stubborn and overbearing as ever, but I wouldn’t have him any other way. I think when it’s the real deal, it’s impossible to regret putting love first. Oh, hi. Look who’s here.”

Izzy turned and stared up at Trace. He wore work boots, tan pants, a forest green sweater with a Captivity Air and Freight logo over his impressive left pectoral, and a faint smile flirting from under his facial hair. “Hi, Hoop. You recruiting my girl to Captivity Law?”

“Ha. No. That conversation would require drinks, though I’m open to having it. I’m here to go over some things with Rose. It’s just a happy coincidence that I got to meet Izzy, too.” She rose and turned to Izzy. “Nice talking with you. I hope I didn’t bore you with my ancient history.”

“Not at all. I hope I see you again.” She found Hoop’s story inspiring.

The older woman pulled a card from her cell phone case and handed it to her. “That’s the office address, office phone, and my cell. Reach out anytime.”

Izzy took it and tucked it into her bag. “Thanks.”

She then turned to him. “Trace, honey, she’s a keeper. Put a ring on this woman, but don’t take any advice from Carl on how to do it.” With those comments hanging in the air, she turned and walked toward reception.

He glanced at Izzy, rolled his eyes, and held out a big, wide hand. “You ready to go?”

…

Once they were both inside the Yukon, Trace gave in to the guilt that seemed to broadside him every time he turned around. “Sorry about that. I never realized how awkward it would be passing us off as a couple. I didn’t consider how invested everyone would be in our relationship.”

“It’s very sweet,” Izzy said, and there were enough stars in her eyes to make him believe she meant it. “People here care about you. They want you to be happy.”

“They want me to be happy here, running the airfield, so they don’t have to adjust to any change. There are conditions on this happiness they want for me.”

“That’s not fair. It’s not just about the airfield, or aversion to change. It’s about you.”

“Well, now it’s about you, too.” He started the Yukon and pulled away from the curb. Her scent permeated the interior of the car, incongruous as a tiara on a roughneck. Sometimes he picked it up even when she wasn’t there. “You think Hoop just happened to be at the inn this morning, and just happened to strike up a conversation with you?” He shook his head. “Hell no. This has Rose’s fingerprints all over it. They want you to be happy practicing small-town law in small-town Alaska, so I can be happy, so they can be happy. Only problem is, you wouldn’t be happy. Chuck’s grooming you for partner. You’ve put in all the time, all the work, and—” He broke off. Shook his head again, this time to get it together. “This is a pointless conversation. All I meant to say is I’m sorry. I didn’t anticipate how this”—he gestured to her, then him—“would snowball. My bad, impulsive decision, and I’m sorry it blows back on you.”

But if he was being completely honest, a big part of him wished she could be happy practicing small-town law in small-town Alaska. He wished she could be happy in Captivity.

“It’s okay.” She said it softly. “There’s no harm. A few more weeks and this will be in both our rearview mirrors. I can be the bad guy. I won’t be around to take the heat. Sometimes being the bad guy is part of the job.”

He didn’t want her in his rearview mirror. That was the problem. But he didn’t want to hold her back, either. She had goals. She had a brilliant career ahead of her. He was the one who didn’t know what the fuck he was doing anymore. He was the one with very little to offer. Not a lot of call for bush pilots in L.A.

Reaching out, he touched her cheek. “You could never be the bad guy, Izzy. You’re just not. You’re smart. You’re thorough. You’re rightfully proud of everything you’ve accomplished.” Wanting to shine up that pride, knowing he’d tarnished it some with the way he’d handled this, he asked, “Why mergers and acquisitions?”

“I wanted the glamour of pushing paper.” Smiling ironically, she said, “Who wants to strut their stuff in front of a jury, week-in and week-out?”

“Come on. Give me the real reason.” Now that he’d asked the question, he realized he honestly wanted to know.

Her smile faded. She stared straight ahead. “It’s not a very inspiring reason, actually. Nothing like Hoop’s motivations for chucking life in the fast lane and moving to Captivity.”

He took her hand, wove his fingers with hers and squeezed. “It’s your motivation. It only has to be inspiring to you.”

She sent him a sideways look, then sighed. “I think I mentioned that my family didn’t have a lot of money when I was attending school, which is one reason why it was so important for me to get scholarships to college and law school. But things weren’t always so tight. My grandparents owned a dry cleaning shop in my hometown. When my parents married, they bought the shop from my dad’s parents and ran it. They did well. They put money aside. When I was about two, they bought another dry cleaning business closer to Vegas. That expansion worked out, and a year or so later, a friend in the business approached my dad with an offer to sell him two more shops. Dad and Mom discussed the offer and decided to go for it. The timing wasn’t spectacular. We’d just bought a new house, and they still owed money on the shop they’d purchased, so they felt pretty extended already, but their friend offered financing, so they decided they could manage the risk. Dad had my grandparents look over the terms, because they had founded the original business and, you know, they were the experts. If it passed the parent test, it must be okay. You trust your family.”

“Family blessed it?”

“They did, although apparently my grandmother raised some concerns about the financing, saying she didn’t understand the arrangement, but my grandfather said that was just stuff they had to put into the contracts to satisfy the lawyers.”

“And did it? Satisfy the lawyers, I mean.”

“It satisfied the seller’s lawyer, which is no surprise since he wrote everything up. My family didn’t consult one. We didn’t have any lawyers in our circle of friends and family, and the seller was a friend. What could go wrong?”

He pulled into his parking space at the airfield and squeezed her hand again. “What went wrong?”

She turned and offered him a sad smile. “Everything. Basically, my parents got swindled. The shops they bought primarily served a military installation. Guaranteed customer base, right? Except these attractive, well-maintained shops were absolute disasters beneath their shiny surfaces. There’s not a ton of equipment involved in a dry cleaning business, but none of it worked. Employees had claims for unpaid wages. Customers had open claims for lost or ruined garments. Suddenly my parents had to shovel more money into their investment just to keep the doors open. Then, within a year, the powers that be closed the base—an event I’ve always suspected the seller had gotten wind of through back channels, which was why he wanted to unload those shops in the first place. Keeping up with the payments became impossible. Interest and penalties accrued until it was a mountain of debt. Their ‘friend’ foreclosed. My parents had to sell everything back to him—including their original two shops—to get out from under the mountain. They sold our house to have money to live on.”

“That’s awful. I’m sorry.” A financial catastrophe like the one her family had suffered placed an extreme amount of stress on the adults involved. He couldn’t imagine how confusing and alarming it would have been to tiny Isabelle, watching her world change so drastically and having absolutely no control over any of it. “Your parents must be incredibly proud of you, choosing a career path that helps ensure situations like theirs don’t play out under your watch.”

“They are.” Her smile widened. “But I’m proud of them, too. They got up, dusted themselves off, and started over. My parents and grandparents pooled their money and started another shop.”

“And how’s that going?”

“Pretty good. Soon after I graduated from law school, they bought another shop. A year later they expanded again.”

“You looked over the deals, made sure everything was on the up and up?”

“Damn right.” Her smile thinned into something a little lethal. “In my third year at HH&R, I oversaw the re-purchase of their two original shops from that so-called friend. He ran them into the ground. We scooped them up for pennies and sent that sonofabitch into retirement with his tail between his legs.”

“Revenge is a dish best enjoyed with family?” He meant it as a joke, but her smile disappeared.

“Huh.” She blinked at him, almost stunned. “I never thought of it that way. It wasn’t that way for my parents. They were just so happy to have their ‘babies’ back in their arms, on fair terms. They weren’t looking to stick it to that son of a bitch. But, for me, yeah.” She nodded, clearly viewing a personally satisfying event through a new lens. “I guess you could say a desire to even the score motivated me to choose mergers and acquisitions. Holy crap. My career is a revenge story.”

If his aim had been to boost her pride in her accomplishments, he’d crashed and burned far short of the runway. Not only that, but the flames of his failure managed to cast shade on her future aspirations. Could he walk it back? “It’s a story about wanting to protect people and prevent what happened to your parents from happening to others. People like me.” He skimmed his fingers along her jaw, touched the corner of her mouth drawn down in a small frown. A frown he’d put there. “The fact that you got a chance to help right a wrong on their behalf was just icing. It’s not like you engineered it.”

“That’s true, I guess.” She pressed her cheek against his palm. “I didn’t make the circumstances. I just did everything in my power to optimize things for my parents.”

“Of course you did. And they’re considerable powers, as it turns out. I’m relying on them, myself, and Chuck wouldn’t let me if you weren’t the best at protecting my interests.”

Her lips twitched. “Hard to believe big, strong Trace Shanahan needs protecting.”

“I do. And you know what, Izzy?”

“What?”

He leaned in and gave her a long, deep kiss. Her hand curled around his neck, and she hung on. When he raised his head, he said, “I like the idea of you protecting me.”

The slow focus of her pupils turned him on more than he’d ever imagined such a tiny, involuntary movement could. The curve of her lips had a similar effect. “I better get back to it, then.” With that, she grabbed her messenger bag, opened the door, and hopped down from the passenger seat.

He got out as well, and, propelled by an urge he didn’t stop to examine too closely, walked quickly around the front of the Yukon to meet her on her side. Standing there in her pink parka, snug white sweater and white jeans, she looked vibrant and bright against a dull, gray background. “What if I feel the need for more protection, once this is all done?”

Her eyebrows knit. “I don’t understand. Are you contemplating another deal?”

He went with it. “I’m not sure.” Wrapping his arms around her, he cocked a brow. “I’ll probably need to consult with you, in person, as often as you can squeeze me in. To protect my interests while I figure it out.”

Her brow smoothed and her smile lit the world, then faded as she considered his request—the unwieldy nature of what he suggested and, possibly, the shadow it cast over her career. Her arms snuck around his waist. She buried her face against his chest and hugged him fiercely. “I’ll think about it.”

The vow went into his sweater. He tipped her head up and kissed her. Lips to lips, mouth to mouth, it felt like a promise, a plan. It felt like flying high and coming home at once. It felt like—he pulled her closer and tipped his head to seal the deal from a different angle. She went up on her tiptoes to recapture his lips. It felt like—

“Jeez, you two. Get a room.”

Bridget walked past with Key at her heels, laughing when the dog tossed its head back and howled.

“Wooo.”