Chapter Twenty-Four

“I’m sure you know why we called you here.” Lucius Mann sat across the granite conference table from Spencer and in between Chuck Roger and Timothy Taylor, the other named partners of Roger Taylor and Mann. The three musketeers, though more wrinkles than brawn—and he didn’t even want to think about their swords.

Spencer should’ve known exactly what the purpose of the meeting was. During his tenure at Roger Taylor and Mann, he’d become proficient at reading body language and anticipating events, like one big chess game. That was all B.S.—Before Starr.

Ever since his week-long hiatus to the west-most elbow of the state of Nevada, he hadn’t been able to get his head back in the game. Mostly because it was filled with images of that infuriatingly stubborn, incredibly sexy blonde who’d dumped him. Dumped him. He’d gone through a lot of dumpings, but none on the receiving end. The receiving end hurt like hell.

Over and over he replayed the events that led up to his current predicament. There was only one possible conclusion: the karma gods were vengeful bastards.

Not only had he lost the girl, he’d nearly lost the deal of his career. Thanks to Jase’s heroic efforts, the Carvan-Pike merger had closed two days ago. Jase had even smoothed over a minor almost-disaster when Mr. Carvan got a bug up his butt and began questioning the valuation. But while things had worked out, Spencer knew his little trip had cost him dearly in credibility. When the deal finally closed, his mentor’s sniff of lukewarm approval said so.

He stared at the three stone-faced, silver-haired men. They might fire him. The thought didn’t bring nearly the consternation it should have. Maybe it was all that Western air; the chicken and goatshit smell had numbed his self-preservation senses. Well, if they fired him, fine. He’d find a job at another firm, maybe a smaller one. One not singularly focused on profit.

His firm, he learned this week, made an outrageously small number of charitable donations for its large size. He hadn’t even bothered to ask them to contribute to the charity trust he was setting up for the Millards. He’d enjoyed working on that these past few days more than any deal he could remember.

“We were very pleased with how the Carvan deal came together,” Lucius said.

They were?

“You showed some real resourcefulness, especially given you were managing the deal from—somewhere in Nevada, wasn’t it?” He said it like it was a third-world country. Before last week, Spencer would’ve agreed. Now Lucius’s tone grated on him.

“Reno.” Yes, Spencer had managed quite a bit from there: go MIA, fall in love, and throw his life totally out of control.

Fall in love?

An image of Starr, curled in bed next to him, sleeping peacefully, popped into his mind. His chest swelled.

Yep, he was totally out of control.

Chuck Roger, sitting to the far left, folded his fingers together with the pointer fingers up. Here is the church, here is the steeple… Focus, man, focus.

“As you know,” Chuck said, “you were on the short list for partner.”

Were. Here it comes, the big “but.”

“We’d like to offer that position to you.” Chuck stood up and extended his hand. The other two partners followed suit, offering congratulations.

The room seemed to narrow, and the partners’ faces blurred into distortion, like he was looking at a funhouse mirror. He blinked, several times, to refocus. They were offering him everything he’d been working for, the brass ring.

He should be happy—no, ecstatic.

He should be standing up, shaking their hands, getting slapped on the back, and calling for champagne. Instead, he sat there, processing their words. A partnership meant a lot of money. But it also meant more time in the office, much more than he was already putting in.

“This is, quite honestly, a surprise,” Spencer said, pushing the words out of his mouth. He remained seated. “It’s an incredible honor.”

When Spencer didn’t say anything more, Lucius cleared his throat. “This is where you accept.”

“This is truly an honor,” he repeated, nodding his head. He glanced over to the side, his gaze resting on the mini-fridge. It reminded him of that morning Starr had argued about breakfast. Eggs. Fresh eggs from the chickens he’d fed. Did Starr really prefer over-easy eggs or had she just said that to argue?

What did it matter?

Lucius cleared his throat, this time more deliberately.

Spencer’s attention snapped back to Lucius, irritation creasing the old man’s face. The two gentlemen standing on either side of Lucius seemed more curious than irritated as they waited for Spencer to respond.

“Truly an honor, sir,” Spencer repeated. “But one I can’t accept.”

One by one, the partners lowered themselves into their seats, their stone faces looking as stunned as Spencer felt. Though Spencer’s surprise wasn’t from what he’d said, it was from how good it felt to say it.

“I don’t believe I’m the right candidate for the position, and I’d like to remove myself from further consideration.” He waited for that oh-shit feeling of regret to quake through his body. And waited. He took a deep breath. The air was stale. Fake. Recirculated. Nothing like the wide-open, fresh breezes he enjoyed at the ranch—especially the ones infused with lilac.

“Do you know what you’re saying?” Timothy Taylor spoke up for the first time, his tone brittle. “No one has turned down a partnership offer from this firm. It’s a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.”

“You won’t get another chance, son.” For once, his mentor Lucius sounded almost fatherly, which, in a sense, he was. Spencer had practically grown up here. But now it was time to leave home. And he knew exactly where he wanted to go.

“I know that, Lucius. Thank you for everything.” Spencer finally stood and waited as the partners followed suit. “Thank you, all.” He shook hands with each and moved to leave. When he reached the door, he turned back. “You might want to reconsider Jase Jackson. He was the brains behind the Carvan merger.”

As soon as Spencer got back to his office, he called in Catherine. “Clear my schedule tomorrow.”

“You’ll miss the weekly Friday team meeting.” She stopped taking notes and looked up from the legal pad that never left her hands.

“Yes. I need to go out of town, and I’ll be gone all weekend, possibly longer.” He started to pack up his computer bag then stopped. Wait, was he even coming back? Of course he would, once he fixed things with a certain little blonde.

She sent you away. What if she doesn’t want you?

He shook the vile thought out of his head. He’d convince her. He’d stay as long as it took, and then he’d…he’d…he didn’t know what he’d do after that. They’d figure it out.

Together.

“Where will you be going?” Catherine asked.

Spencer’s gaze darted to her, the question refocusing him. “Reno.” As if there was any other answer.

A smile spread across the old woman’s face. “I’ll get you tonight’s flight.” She tucked her pen behind her ear and left his office.

A minute later she returned. “Uh, Spencer? I think there might be a slight change in plan.”

Had he been canned that quickly? Had Lucius or one of the other partners forbidden Catherine to help him? “What is it?” He braced himself for the news. Whatever it was, it was for the best. He’d chalk it up to karma.

“You have a visitor.”

“I don’t have time for visitors. Take care of it.” He had to pack and call Jase. And Destiny. Maybe Destiny first. She’d tell Spencer if he was nuts. Was he nuts? He was about to go out on another limb—and this time it was a big frickin’ limb.

Catherine looked at him unfazed, almost expectantly. “You’ll want to take care of this yourself.” She made a come-here motion to someone outside the door.

Starr walked in, her blue doe eyes wide and uncertain. A beautiful, breathtaking sight. Spencer stood there, afraid to move, breathe, think, for fear of chasing away the apparition. He blinked. She was still there, thank God.

She licked her lips, and his entire body reacted, remembering the feel of those lips, that tongue, on his body. She cleared her throat. “About MogulMania…” She paused.

Who the hell cared about that company? Why was she really here? Did it matter? “I never should have left.” There, he’d said it.

She blinked and just stood there, eyes wide. Why wasn’t she reacting? Did she want him to grovel? He couldn’t do that, had never. He wouldn’t.

“I’ve missed you,” he said. And he kept going. “In fact, everything I do, everywhere I look, reminds me of those dang animals and all that wide-open space you’ve got out in Reno…and you. Especially you. I don’t want to be here if you’re out there.” He sounded like a frickin’ Hallmark card. But the words kept barreling out and wouldn’t stop. “I don’t know what happened to me out there. What you did to me. But I’m better for it, but I’m also missing something. You. There are attorney jobs everywhere, even in towns with chickens and goats.” The moment she’d walked in, he’d passed out-of-control and was headed toward a cliff… “I love you.”

Headfirst, down the cliff. He held his breath. Would she catch him?

The seconds crept into what seemed like eternity. Slowly her lips turned up into a smile. One that reached her eyes.

He breathed.

“I have a question.”

Had she heard him? He’d just emptied his soul to her. Said those three words he had vowed would never pass through his lips. And all she had to say was “I have a question”? He forced a single nod. “Shoot.” Me. Now.

“I intend to sign a waiver with MogulMania, like Jim asked, but I want to negotiate the payment and separation terms. I was thinking some sort of long-term royalty might be appropriate. I think I need an opinion from an attorney.” Her eyes held a sparkle now. They were filled with mischief. Growing in anticipation. It was catchy. He felt the same sprouts of anticipation in his chest.

He bit down a smile and played along. “I know a good attorney who’d be willing to help.” He stepped around his desk, eager to get closer. “Though I hear he’s arrogant and pushy. A bit of a cad, really.”

Her lips twitched. “And I want to start a company, but not for ski equipment.”

That’s my girl. Whatever it was, he’d support her. Now why the hell were they just standing here? The feet between them felt like a mile.

He stepped closer. “Sounds like a great plan. The attorney I have in mind can definitely work out the details.”

He took another step, then raised a brow, waiting.

“Remember Snow Bear Cavern, that not-for-profit ski school we passed on the way to Mount Rose? They even have a special needs program. I want to start something similar. Maybe I can focus on kids like Matt. Give them something to be proud of, you know, something to work toward.”

Fine. A ski school in Reno. A dancehall in Denver. Didn’t matter. As long as she was there, he was in. “But if Reno already has a place like this, why do you want to start another?”

“There are other places that could use a Snow Bear Cavern. Maybe on the East Coast. New York has snow, right?”

A grin spread across his lips. “It does, indeed.”

“I’ll need a mountain.”

“You want to buy a mountain?” Of course she’d want to buy a mountain. That was Starr.

She shrugged. “Those are details I haven’t figured out. I was hoping my attorney would help me.”

He took a final step forward and stood directly in front of her. The smell of her lilac perfume invaded his senses. God, how he’d missed it. “I’m sorry I went behind your back. I won’t do that again, ever.”

Starr nodded. “I know. I’m sorry I sent you away. I understand now what you tried to do for me. And I’ve heard what you’re doing for Matt.” She paused and bit her lip. “So, are you in? You want to do this thing with me?”

“The mountain thing.”

She nodded. “And the us thing. I love you, too, Spencer.”

He put his arms around her, trailed his fingers down her cheek, her neck. He didn’t want to live without lilacs. Didn’t even want to try. “You know, this could be the start of a beautiful friendship.”

“You know what else it is?”

“What?”

“Good karma.”

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