Chapter Nineteen
Starr pushed through the cottage doors and looked from the queen bed in the middle to the closet and bathroom on one side to the dresser, TV stand, and microwave on the other. She wanted to punch something. Someone. But not just anyone—a Brown brother, either one would do.
From her top dresser drawer, she pulled out her drawing pads, the ones she hadn’t yet shown to anyone, filled with sketches of future MogulMania equipment, her ideas of new and improved products. Her dreams of the future. She wanted to burn them all.
She threw the sketchpads on her bed and let out a cry of frustration. Why hadn’t she firmed up her position before this? Sure, her involvement had started out as a favor to Robert, but it had quickly morphed into something more for both her and the company. Then when her accident happened, Robert dumped her instead of supporting her—and made her involvement in his brother’s company that much more complicated. And difficult. And now that she couldn’t ski, now that she’d failed to “step up,” as Robert had put it, her involvement was impractical.
They were right.
Sniffing, she wiped away the teardrops from her cheeks. She didn’t need MogulMania. It’d been a hobby. She hadn’t really thought it would be something more, did she?
Deep inside her gut, she knew the answer: yes. Because it gave her hope: it had given her a connection that she didn’t want to lose. It kept her close to the mountain.
“Knock, knock,” Spencer said, tapping on the cottage door. “Can I come in?”
Starr sighed. He’d probably camp outside the entrance if she said no. She opened the door and gestured him in with the wave of her hand.
He walked in, assessing the rectangular room’s efficiency apartment furnishings. “Cute space.”
Starr shrugged. “It works for me.”
Spencer’s gaze landed on the pile of sketchpads on her bed. “You draw, too, like JJ?”
“No,” she said too quickly.
He gave her a then-why-the-drawing-pads look.
Her heart skipped. There was no way she’d show him her drawings. None. Zippo. Why had he even followed her here? “They’re nothing. Just doodles.”
“MogulMania doodles?”
She blinked, more than once, trying to come up with an answer, her face no doubt giving him the one he needed.
“Can I see?”
She let out a single laugh. “What for?”
He slowly picked one up, his eyes never leaving hers, like he was afraid she’d lash out at the book. Or him. He flipped through the pages. “These are really good.” He dropped the first sketchpad on the bed, then picked up another and paged through. “You don’t need that company. You should start your own.”
He was nuts. Or high. Maybe someone had drugged him, too. “Look, I appreciate what you’re trying to do, but I don’t need a fake little pep talk.”
Spencer’s eyes narrowed. “I’m serious.”
“I don’t want to start my own business.” She was a skier—okay, ex-skier, but still not an entrepreneur. “Don’t you get it? They’re right, Spencer. I can’t ski, not at the moment. And like an idiot, I still thought I could belong at MogulMania. I thought I did.” She squeezed her fists together and eyed Spencer, the need to punch something coming back even stronger.
“You’ve got great ideas in these books. They’re the idiots if they don’t see that. You can’t let them—”
“Stop.” She rubbed her forehead with her fingers. She knew he was only trying to help, but the more he talked, the worse she felt. What should she have done, begged Jim to stay on? And what business was it of Spencer’s anyway? Why was he even here? It’s like she couldn’t get away; he was everywhere. “You’re in the house, the cottage, my bed…” My dreams. “I can’t think straight. I need space.” She needed to figure out her life, what little of a life she had left. “Can you please just leave?”
They stared at each other, and the air stilled. His sculpted muscles flexed under his thin T-shirt, and somewhere in the recesses of her mind, she remembered how those strong arms felt wrapped around her last night, protecting her.
His eyes, determined and earnest, held hers. He stood before her, his stance saying he was ready to defend her and take on the world at once. “Let me help you.”
He actually believed what he was saying. He actually believed he could fix this.
Starr wanted to believe him, this cocky, uncompromising…chivalrous…caring guy. A wiggly feeling built in her stomach, as if one, then several, and then a whole swarm of butterflies had taken flight. Swirling in her stomach, blind as bats.
“Oh, Spencer.” She took a deep breath, her stomach muscles squashing the butterflies. “There’s something so broken inside me that even you can’t fix.”
…
Spencer walked across the gravel and up the stairs to the porch, flexing his fisted hands, Starr’s words replaying in his brain over and over. That beautiful, strong, perfect woman thought she needed fixing.
His gut twisted, sharp pangs running up his stomach to his chest, poking his heart. She was perfect the way she was—her compassion for others, her trusting generosity. He wouldn’t change her blunt honesty or her stubborn decisiveness or the way she made him want to do the right thing, to strive for that approving gleam in her eye. She made him want to be a better person—he wouldn’t even change how she made him think like a Hallmark card.
And she didn’t need to ski down a mountainside to be any of that.
Starr didn’t need fixing, but this situation certainly did. She didn’t want to start her own company, fine, but maybe he could get MogulMania to… No, he shouldn’t. It wasn’t his place. Though she hadn’t actually told him not to help. She’d asked for space. That was different; that was temporary. He thought back to the devastating look on her face, and his heart crimped. He never wanted to see that look again.
Spencer sat on the porch swing, pulled out his phone, and called Jase. When his friend answered, Spencer skipped the greeting pleasantries. “I need your help with a delicate situation that’s come up.”
“Dude, didn’t your daddy warn you to use protection?”
Any other time, Spencer would’ve enjoyed the barb and given one right back. Not today. “Speaking of daddies, I think I’ve got an investment opportunity for yours. There’s this company, MogulMania. They’re not much more than a start-up, but their ski goggles and other products are cutting-edge.”
“You telling me your delicate situation involves athletic equipment and not the chick you’ve been MIA for?”
“Both.” Straight up was how he’d always played it with Jase, and that’s what he’d always gotten in return. It’d built a friendship tighter than a parking spot in downtown Manhattan.
“And the company’s solid?”
“From what I can tell. I’d do the due diligence to make sure.”
His friend didn’t even hesitate. “How much they looking for?”
A light spring breeze swirled the air, carrying scents of chicken and goat and fresh mint from the small herb garden at the base of the stairs. “A few million.”
“That’s too small for St. Clair Investments. They wouldn’t spend the time, no matter how good the opportunity.”
“What if I’m willing to put together the entire deal?” Spencer took a breath. “I’ll even put my own skin in the game.” He’d worked hundreds of deals, from start-ups to Fortune 500s, and though the opportunity had presented itself dozens of times, he’d never risked his own money. Never believed in someone else enough—until now. He would cut a deal and require that Starr be an integral part of the MogulMania management in exchange for the funding.
“You’re serious about this?” It was more statement than question from his friend.
“Absolutely.” Spencer took a deep breath, the satisfying feeling of being in control flowing through his veins. “How fast can you move on this?”
“I’ll see what I can do and get back to you later today.” Then Jase started chuckling. “Like I said earlier, man. You’re totally out of control.” His friend hung up.
Out of control, my ass. Spencer was doing exactly the opposite—controlling the situation and fixing the mess. In a matter of days, Starr would be back at MogulMania with more responsibility than she’d ever had. Like she deserved. So what if his actions were tying him, long-term, to her? Nothing mattered except Starr’s happiness.
He tried to ignore the niggle in his noggin, the one planted by Jase. Okay, sure, maybe Spencer was in unchartered territory, going out on a limb for someone and not for his typical reasons.
In fact, he wouldn’t even tell her what he’d done. Starr would consider it more meddling, he was sure. She was too emotionally invested to see the big picture. So she couldn’t find out, at least not at first, which shouldn’t be a problem. That’s what confidentiality agreements were for.
First, Spencer sent an email to his secretary, Catherine, asking her to immediately contact the company’s attorney for the prospectus and any other investment material available. Then he put feelers out to the venture capitalists he knew, to see what the chatter was on the company. Finally, he began drafting his proposal and a confidentiality agreement, tasks too important to assign to his paralegals like he normally would.
A couple hours later, Spencer was pouring through pages of MogulMania financial and market data that Catherine had obtained. Not a bad business plan overall. In fact, if the company met its three-year projections, Jase might actually thank Spencer.
He checked the time. A little past eleven a.m. Close to lunchtime and a good time for a break. Starr had to eat, right?
“Starr?” He knocked on the cottage door. “You hungry? I’ll make us some sandwiches.”
No answer. Her car was in the drive, so she was still here. He peeked in the window but couldn’t see past the drawn blinds. He knocked one more time before turning back toward the house. She just needed more alone time. Fine, he could do that.
As he headed back to the house, Spencer’s phone beeped, and he clicked on the text from Jase.
As usual, Jase had come through.
Once back at his computer, Spencer finalized the proposal, emailed it to his secretary, and then followed up with a phone call.
“Catherine, how are things going over there?”
“Mr. Mann’s on a war path,” the older woman replied.
“In other words, everything’s normal.” Spencer chuckled. Lucius Mann was always ready to battle, in and out of the boardroom.
“This is different,” Catherine said. “He wants you here. Now. Today.”
Spencer stiffened. “Jase said everything’s under control.”
“Of course he did. He’s Jase. And not only is he a good wingman, he’s a hopeless romantic.” One thing Catherine always did was cut right to the chase. “But Lucius wants you here.”
Up until now, whatever Lucius wanted, Spencer would deliver. Period. He’d worked so hard for where he’d gotten in the firm. Years and years. His entire adult life. Yet even Catherine’s words didn’t light a fire of regret. He needed to get this MogulMania deal done. Nothing else mattered. Spencer sighed. “I hear you. I’ll be back as soon as possible.”
“I know you will.”
“But first, I just sent you a proposal. I need you to get it to the company today.”
“Consider it done.”
“Then set up a meeting with the CEO for as soon as possible, ideally tomorrow morning.” Sure, tomorrow was Saturday, but there were no weekends when it came to deal making. The company was obviously dealing with other investors. His window of opportunity was small.
“Of course. I’ll do it right now.”
“A million thanks, Catherine. You’re the best.”
“I know,” she said, before hanging up.
JJ pushed through the screened porch door. “Hiya, Spencer.” He dropped his backpack on the floor next to the table and grabbed a bag of chips from the cupboard.
“Hey, dude,” Spencer said, looking up. “Is today early release day or something?”
“It’s three thirty, man,” he said, chomping a mouthful of chips.
Wow. When Spencer was in his element, hours flew by.
A car he didn’t recognize pulled up the long gravel drive. JJ’s hollers tipped him off as to who it was.
“They’re back!” The kid zoomed out the door. “Did you get me anything, Gracie?” he called out, running to the car.
Spencer went out to greet his friend and her new husband. “I thought you guys weren’t coming back until tomorrow evening.” He hugged Grace and then shook Noah’s outstretched hand.
“San Francisco will always be there. You didn’t expect us to stay away with all the action happening, did you?” Grace raised a knowing brow. Too knowing. It had to be Destiny supplying the 4-1-1. Too bad. Grace deserved some time away with Noah—and Spencer had everything under control. “Where’s Starr?” Grace asked.
As if on cue, Starr walked out of the cottage. “Welcome back!” She gave Grace a huge hug and then followed with another for her brother.
“So, did you get me anything?” JJ asked again, bubbling with excitement.
“Maybe.” Noah grinned. “Come with me to check on the animals first, and then we’ll see.”
Noah patted JJ on the back—the kid didn’t pull away—and the two walked toward the chicken coop. An empty restlessness grew inside Spencer as he watched them check on the chickens and then head over to the goats. What would it be like to come home every night to something like this? Spencer had enjoyed his time at the ranch with the animals more than he thought he would, and he’d had an awesome time with JJ. Noah was a lucky man with a beautiful family.
When Spencer turned back to the women, each were looking at him. Starr with confusion, Grace with amusement.
What was worse than one Taylor woman trying to shine up your karma? Two. He walked to the back of the car. “I’ll bring your bags inside,” he said, hoping to distract them from whatever psychoanalysis either was up to. “Pop the trunk.”
Grace complied. “Thanks. I heard your wallet went missing and then went found,” she said.
He grabbed their two suitcases and carried them to the front of the car. “Like you said, there’s been lots of action around here.” He inadvertently glanced at Starr, who avoided his gaze.
“Matt Millard, huh?” Grace asked, directing her question to Starr. “Wow.”
“Yeah,” Starr said. “I was shocked. But I think he’s going to be okay.” She cleared her throat. “Spencer’s been a big help with that.” She nodded his way but still wouldn’t look at him. There was no way he’d be able to stand this silent treatment all evening; he’d go nuts.
“Well, we figured we’d take JJ out for dinner tonight. Come with and you can tell us all about it.”
“Actually, we were going to stay here,” Starr said, before Spencer could answer.
They were?
Grace’s eyes narrowed, questioning him.
“Spencer’s going to help me out with…something.”
He was? She refused to turn his way, so he couldn’t read the look in her eyes.
“Right, Spencer?” Starr asked, breaking the awkward silence and finally looking at him.
A myriad of emotions flitted across her face before landing on a question. She wanted something from him. If she’d decided to take him up on his offer to help with MogulMania, he’d have a bit of explaining to do. Hopefully he could smooth it over once she realized he’d put in motion the perfect solution.
“Sure,” he said.