Chapter Eight

“YOU’RE GOING OUT WITH BRYAN?”

Ana stopped short at Rachel’s words and looked up from the muffin she was eating. “I’m not going out with him. I’m going to an engagement party with him to talk to potential investors. There’s a difference.”

Melody chimed in from her workbench, where she was scoring an assembly line of unbaked bread. “Maybe to you there is, but I can practically guarantee that he’s not thinking of it that way. Bryan’s the kind of guy who likes to mix business and pleasure.”

“I don’t think so,” Ana said resolutely, though her stomach gave a little jolt of nervousness at the words. At least she thought it was nervousness. Surely it wasn’t anticipation. “Mostly, I want to see if there’s any truth to these claims that his friends will pay back his favors in cash. What kind of favors could they be anyway?”

“Hard to tell,” Rachel said. “From what Alex says, he’s always been the guy who can run in any circle. Climbers or investment bankers, doesn’t really matter to him. And thanks to his dad, he has all sorts of contacts. It’s just surprising that he hasn’t taken advantage of it until now.”

“I guess it hasn’t really mattered to him until now,” Ana said, polishing off the rest of the muffin.

Melody looked at her closely. “You’re sure you’re okay with this?”

“Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Because that’s the first muffin I’ve seen you eat in like . . . ever. You always say they’re tasty little fat bombs that are going to cost you a thousand squats the next day. And we all know how much you like squats.”

Ana made a face. “Maybe I felt like it. I ran the stairs at Red Rocks today. That had to burn a thousand calories. Alex and Bryan seriously do that once a week?”

“Used to, until Bryan disappeared,” Rachel said. “Did he say anything about that?”

“No. I asked about the climbing, but he didn’t want to talk about it.” Ana paused and cocked a hip against the wall. “Have you guys noticed anything different about him?”

“You mean the beard?” Melody asked. “I don’t know about you, but I kind of like it. It makes him look like a hipster mountaineer.”

“No, I don’t mean the beard.” Secretly, Ana had wanted to hold him down and shave it off since she’d first seen him. He was a good-looking guy; he didn’t need to hide behind all that hair. “I mean . . . he’s subdued. You know, he was always the life of the party. Flirtatious. Maybe even a bit inappropriate, but not in a creepy way.”

“He had a come-to-Jesus moment,” Rachel said. “What happened to Vivian woke him up, I guess. And the coffee co-op is a Christian organization. Sounds like the farmers aren’t the only ones who got the gospel down there.”

“Maybe.” Ana still wasn’t convinced his sudden personality change was due solely to a spiritual awakening. There was something odd about his refusal to climb when it had been part of his life for almost twenty-five years. “What’s the deal with Vivian?”

“Why all the interest about Bryan and his personal life?” Melody asked, a smile in her voice.

“If I’m working with him, I want to know what I’m dealing with. Besides, isn’t he the guy who never commits? A new girl every week?”

Rachel lowered her voice, though there was no one else present. “I asked Alex the same thing a while back. Apparently, he was head over heels for this woman. Even asked her to marry him, very publicly, and she said no. He wouldn’t say her name aloud for three years. And then suddenly they end up in Colombia, climbing together? Something big must have happened. Alex wouldn’t tell me because he thought Bryan wouldn’t want us to know.”

“But you have your suspicions.”

“I wouldn’t speculate. I know Bryan seems like an open book, but he’s actually pretty private. We spend a fair amount of time with him and I still don’t know much about him.”

Interesting. Ana just nodded, filing away that information for future reference. Maybe what seemed out of character to her wasn’t really out of character . . . she just didn’t actually know who he was.

She wasn’t sure it was such a good idea to be intrigued by him, though. She’d made a living out of reading people’s weaknesses and bolstering their strengths, but she’d written him off as a two-dimensional player. Add in some depth, and he suddenly became someone to figure out.

“Regardless, tonight should be interesting.” She ignored the knowing looks her friends sent her way and threw her muffin wrapper in the trash by the back door. “I’ll text you guys and let you know how it goes. Fingers crossed this isn’t just a waste of a night with a bunch of overage frat boys.”

But if what they were saying about Bryan was true, and she’d really underestimated him, it might be just what he said. And if that were the case, she was determined to walk out of the club with an investor.

* * *

Ana spent the rest of the afternoon looking over the business plan Bryan had emailed her, and she had to admit she was impressed. It looked like he’d done his homework. He had no illusions over the difficulty of this business, including its high costs, seasonal variability, and low margins.

There was even a provision in there for a portion of the proceeds —once there was a profit —to be set aside for school ventures in South America for farmers’ kids.

That didn’t fit the picture she’d formed of him.

But good intentions were one thing; being able to execute them was another. Right now, he had the advantage of low raw material costs, because he owned the farm and just had to pay a cut to the importer. His space was cheap. And it all meant nothing unless he could raise thirty-five thousand dollars for roasting and packaging equipment.

“What did I get myself into?” Ana murmured as she rose from her kitchen table and moved into her bedroom. She began flipping through the clothing options in her huge walk-in closet, bypassing her professional suits and slacks before selecting a favorite pair of dark-blue skinny jeans. After a moment, she chose a ruffled pink silk blouse and a buttery black leather jacket. High-heeled peep-toe booties for the shoes, for sure. It projected just the image she wanted now: pretty but tough, stylish but smart. From experience, she knew if she walked in wearing a skirt, she’d be fending off advances from every drunk idiot all night. Apparently showing even a little skin made her look like she was after a hookup.

An hour later, showered, her hair pulled back in a sleek ponytail, makeup done flawlessly with a collection of expensive cosmetics that inhabited their own cabinet in her bathroom, she was ready to go. She clasped a bracelet watch around her wrist, added the crucifix that her mother had given her at her confirmation, and dabbed on one more coat of gloss.

She glanced at the watch —8:25. Bryan would be here any minute. She found herself pacing the length of her living room. Why was she so nervous? This was neither a date nor a business meeting. It was a . . .

. . . long shot. She sighed. Bryan better have read his friends right. Her feet already ached from the booties, and she hated to waste an evening of high heels on a lost cause.

At 8:28, a knock sounded at her door. She opened it without looking through the peephole. The doorman would have vetted him before he came up anyway; she’d given instructions long ago that no one but Rachel, Melody, and now Bryan be let up without calling first.

“Hey,” she said, stepping back to let him in. “You’re on time.”

“By my watch, I’m early.” He gave her a once-over, but it was friendlier than she might have expected. “You look great. You sure you want to look that good? You’re going to be fending off drunk idiots all night.”

She laughed. He’d chosen the exact words she’d thought earlier. “I think I can handle myself. Besides, you’re there to run interference. You clean up nice, by the way.”

More than nice, if she was being honest. She’d always admired his athletic build in a distant sort of way —no bulky gym muscles, rather lean and wiry, deceptively strong. A fine-gauge sweater clung just enough to his upper body to show he was in shape, not enough to make him look like he was trying to show it off. Casually relaxed jeans cuffed at somewhat-battered ankle boots. He was the epitome of good-looking without trying too hard.

And he’d shaved.

She turned away to grab her handbag. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I’m glad you finally got rid of the animal hanging out on your chin.”

“How could I possibly take that the wrong way?” He was grinning when she turned around, and he ran a hand across his clean-shaven jaw. “I figured it was time when some guy offered me half a sandwich on the street.”

Ana chuckled. “I guess so. Ready to go?”

“Sure.” He opened the door and stepped out before her, then stood back to allow her to lock it. All the way down the hall to the elevator, he kept his distance, and inside he stood back a respectable several paces.

However, he did open her car door when he led her to his little black hatchback parked on the street and closed it behind her when she climbed in. Once settled into the driver’s seat, he grimaced. “Maybe I should have had you drive. Sorry about the car.”

She glanced around and shrugged. It was old but clean —more than clean, recently detailed. She could still smell traces of the air freshener they’d used. “It’s fine. Easier to park in the Highlands anyway. The Benz is a monster. I just drive it because it’s intimidating.”

“That’s important to you?” he asked when he pulled away from the curb into light evening traffic. “Being intimidating, I mean?”

Ana thought for a second how to explain it. “I deal with a lot of people who don’t look at me as a human being. I’m a machine or a tool or a means to their end. But every once in a while, I have a client who tries to get too personal, and then, yes, intimidating is important to me. You don’t mess with a woman in a power suit and a massive black Mercedes.” A smile came to her lips. “It’s psychology. Silly, but it works.”

“Always?”

She sobered. “Not always.” Being a five-foot-one Asian woman, even in five-inch heels, came with its own set of challenges.

He was darting looks at her, as if she’d surprised him. That made two of them. For the second time today, she realized they’d hardly spent any time together alone. They barely knew each other. They shouldn’t be surprised to find out unexpected things.

He cleared his throat. “So, a little background that you might need to know about the people you’re going to meet tonight.”

He proceeded to run through half a dozen names, which Ana tried to commit to memory along with their stories: how he’d met them, what they did, how likely they were to invest, how they owed him. She’d thought he’d meant youthful, joking sorts of debts, but these were some serious favors. One guy was a friend from college; Bryan had bailed him out of jail when he got arrested for a bar fight. The hothead was now a venture capitalist. Another had been an aspiring architect just out of his master’s program, finding it impossible to get a job when the housing bubble burst in Denver; Bryan had pitched his portfolio to his dad, got him a job with Shaw Associates, and now he was designing a multimillion-dollar development in Sun Valley.

“And the pièce de résistance . . . the couple we’re celebrating tonight? I introduced them.”

Ana smiled. “How much is nostalgia and gratitude worth to him?”

“Hopefully a lot. He’s a TV producer. His fiancée, Margot, was a college friend of Alex’s and mine.”

“Wait.” Ana racked her brain. “I know them. Sort of. Weren’t they at the very first supper club that Alex and Rachel put on?”

“I think they were,” Bryan said. “He didn’t have the money to invest in a restaurant back then, but I’m also not asking nearly as much as Rachel was. Regardless, I kind of have to make an appearance at the engagement party.”

Ana smiled and shook her head. “You’ve got some pretty far-reaching connections for a climber. How did that happen?”

She didn’t miss the flinch when she mentioned his old profession, but he quickly smoothed it over. “My parents, remember? I grew up attending all these events and galas and dinner parties. Sometimes my dad’s associates would bring their kids along and we’d eat pizza and play foosball in the basement while the adults talked. A lot of them grew up to be influential, as you might guess.” Bryan shrugged. “I kept up with most of them over the years.”

Now she was even more nervous. Childhood friends who owed him favors? That could go either way.

The tiny car slid through the dark night, the pulse of rock music on the radio just low enough that she couldn’t make out the words. He finally found parking on a side street a few blocks from their destination. “Hope you don’t mind a little walk in those heels.”

“Not at all,” she said, even though her toes already ached at the prospect. She let herself out of the car so he wouldn’t open the door for her again, pleased that he just waited at the back for her and then fell into step with her on the sidewalk. No attempt to take her arm, no sign that he thought this was a date.

At least she thought she was pleased.