The Deal

*Sandra*

Mirabel was a popular luncheon destination for the New York elite, allowing its patrons to sit inside or al fresco. Since I was dying, I liked to spend as many days in the sun as I could. So I waited outside at a table under a sun umbrella for Dahlia Harrington to arrive.

I was compulsively early, so I’d been there half an hour before our twelve-thirty lunch appointment. Which was probably why Dahlia looked so surprised to see me when she showed up fifteen minutes early herself.

“You’re a force to be reckoned with, Sandra Kingsley,” Dahlia chuckled as she sat down beside me.

“The early bird catches the worm and all that,” I replied tiredly. “As we both know, I don’t have much time. But I like you, so I’ve decided to hear you out.”

Dahlia reached across the table and laid her hand over mine. “I don’t just want you to marry my son so that we can take care of your company for you,” she said, not beating around the bush. “I also want you to marry him because I think it will be good for him.”

I frowned. “Good for him how?”

“That’s for me to worry about. Suffice it to say, you’ll be a good influence.” Dahlia speared me with an intense look. “If you give my son another chance, I will make a sizable donation to your mother’s charitable fund. One that will revive it and keep it going long into the foreseeable future.”

I blinked. “How did you know it was running low?”

“My son has his sources. I have mine,” Dahlia said cryptically.

I thought of her son and grimaced. I was no fan of Blake Harrington. “How sizable?”

“I am prepared to commit a billion dollars,” Dahlia replied.

I choked on my water. “Pardon?”

“You heard me. Your mother’s children’s cancer research fund is a worthy place for it. And you are a worthy partner for my son,” Dahlia said.

“You do remember I’m dying, right?” I asked.

Dahlia shrugged. “The length of time does not determine impact. I want my son to know what a worthy partner looks like. I don’t think it will even take the whole six months to show him.”

“So this is an investment in your future daughter-in-law?” I said.

“Yes,” Dahlia responded. But I could tell there was something more to it.

I didn’t have the time to tease it out of her. For a billion dollars for cancer research, I’d do just about anything. “You’ve got a deal.”

Dahlia smiled. “You won’t regret it, Sandra.”

“Oh, I probably will. But my terms are being met, and you’ve pledged a billion dollars to children’s cancer research. I won’t regret that part,” I said.

“I’ll tell Blake the good news,” Dahlia informed me. “I’m sure he’ll be in touch.”

“He’s tried to be,” I answered.

Dahlia gave me a funny look. “He has?”

“A hundred and seven calls and counting.” I showed her my phone.

Dahlia’s lips twitched. She took out a pen and wrote on a napkin. “When he finally calls from this number, answer. Then you won’t have to deal with Ashley.”

I took the number and inputted it into my phone.

“Is it under ‘A’ for ‘Asshole’?” Dahlia teased.

I blushed. “Um…”

Dahlia threw her head back and laughed heartily. “I knew you would. I just knew it.”

“Maybe I should give him the benefit of the doubt and change it to ‘Blake,’” I mumbled, going back into my Contacts.

Dahlia shook her head. “Darling, do not do anything of the kind until he’s earned it.”

I stopped, then nodded. “Good point.”

A waiter finally came to our table. I started to order a salad, but Dahlia interrupted and ordered me a chicken breast.

“You must keep up your strength, my dear,” Dahlia reminded me. “You’ve got a long road ahead of you.”

She was right. I’d never had much of an appetite, though, and I’d lost what little I had when I was undergoing chemo and radiation. “I’ll… try.”

“Try hard. I want you around for as long as possible,” Dahlia said.

We talked then about different charities we supported, or, in my case, had supported before things at Kingsley Manufacturing had gone sideways. When the food came, we fell into companionable silence.

I forced myself to eat the chicken. It took some doing, but I got it down.

Dahlia was delighted. “Excellent. I look forward to having many such luncheons together, my dear.”

I could tell she really meant it. My eyes stung with unshed tears. I hadn’t meant to form any attachments other than those I already had, but somehow, Dahlia had wormed her way into my heart. “I look forward to it as well.”

When I rose, Dahlia gave me a hug.

“I’ve always hated that many of our brightest lights are gone the soonest,” Dahlia whispered. Then she dabbed her eyes with a handkerchief from her purse. “I will see you soon, my dear.”

“Yes, see you soon,” I agreed.

***

*Blake*

I looked at the neighborhood we were entering and thought maybe I should have brought more than two bodyguards. Sandra was staying around here?!

Sure enough, when I pulled up to the hotel in question, Sandra was standing there in a nice cocktail dress. It was black and simple, flattering her thin frame.

“Is it safe?” I asked, looking at Luca.

The beefy bodyguard took out a Glock and scanned the neighborhood. “It is now.”

I braced myself to be mugged anyway and stepped out of the town car. I held out my hand to Sandra to help her off the curb.

Sandra put her hand in mine, and something sparked in me. Small, yet it was there.

Jack was right, Sandra wasn’t my type. But something in her wounded lavender eyes called to my soul, a soul I hadn’t even known I had until now.

Those I did business with, and especially those I crushed, were convinced I didn’t have one. I’d had similar sentiments from girls I’d dated.

“Are we going to get in the car?” Sandra asked.

I shook myself. “Yes. I was just waiting to see if someone came to steal my wallet.”

Sandra shrugged. “If they did, I’m sure they’d need whatever was in it more than you do. People around here are very poor. It’s not right to steal, but I would understand if they did.”

Ah yes. Saint Sandra Kingsley. “Yeah, I suppose so,” I grumbled. I carefully got Sandra into the car. Something about her seemed… delicate.

It wasn’t just her sharp tongue and judgmental attitude that needed to be handled with care.

“Are you ready for this?” I asked. “There are going to reporters shouting questions, and the paparazzi are going to be in our business for months.”

“I’m ready. For my employees, I could walk through fire.” Sandra’s jaw was set, and her back was ramrod straight. This formidable woman was ready to go to war.

I took her hand, feeling the strange tingle again. “Here.” I reached in my pocket and took out the family ring and slipped it on her finger. “Please don’t throw it at me this time.”

“I didn’t throw it at you,” Sandra replied primly.

“You kind of did,” I said.

Sandra frowned at me. “I kind of didn’t. I slid it across the desk.”

“Semantics,” I responded.

Sandra’s lips thinned.

“You don’t have much of a sense of humor, do you?” I asked.

“I don’t have time for a sense of humor,” Sandra said.

“You will. As soon as we get married, I’m booting you off to teas with my mother while I figure out how to rescue our company,” I informed her.

Sandra snorted. “You can try to boot me.”

“I’ll be successful. Watch me,” I said.

“You won’t be. Watch me,” Sandra countered.

I wondered what it would be like to be this woman’s partner for real. Unfortunately, that was not the way I worked. “We’ll table this discussion for now,” I grunted as we pulled up to Amore.

Lights flashed all around as I opened my door. I held out my hand for Sandra, who took it.

She swung her legs out the door. When Sandra stood, I put my arm around her waist to steady her on her heels.

“Acting the part?” she asked softly, smiling to the press for all the world as though she were a happy bride-to-be.

“Absolutely,” I grinned, giving the press a little wave before putting my hand at Sandra’s back and starting into the restaurant.

Suddenly, there was a shout. “Miss Kingsley! Miss Kingsley! Is that the Harrington sapphire engagement ring?!”

There it was. Sandra smiled and raised her left hand for the press to see and take pictures of. I just gave them a cheeky wink.

The press continued to shout questions, but I escorted Sandra into the restaurant before she or I could answer any of them. We hadn’t yet gotten our stories straight.

“I suppose we should invent some whirlwind romance,” Sandra said after the waiter finished getting us settled at our table.

“Love at first sight?” I suggested.

“It would have to be. I’ve been in town less than a week,” Sandra replied, picking up her menu.

“I could also say we met when I was in Chicago last year and have been seeing each other since then and finally decided to tie the knot,” I said.

Sandra kept her eyes on her menu. “Last year, you say?”

“Yes. In the fall,” I responded.

“I wasn’t in Chicago last fall,” Sandra told me.

“You weren’t? Where were you? You keep talking about how you want to save your company–” I began.

“My father was dying, and I had business to take care of overseas.” Sandra still didn’t look up from her menu.

I frowned. “You don’t seem like the type to go on an overseas business trip while your father is dying.”

“It was unavoidable.” Sandra put her menu down and raised an eyebrow at me. “I’m only telling you because the press will dig into our lies, and that one would easily come out.”

“Good point.” I cleared my throat. “Speaking of death, I wanted to apologize for being insensitive the other day. I didn’t know your mother died of cancer.”

“Now you do,” Sandra shrugged.

“Now I do,” I agreed. I put on my best charming smile. “Am I forgiven?”

Sandra snorted. “Why should I forgive you when you’re not sorry?”

“I just said–” I started, my smile fading.

“You will still tell all your friends the benefit was a terrible yawn-fest. Because that’s how you really feel. So, thank you for the apology, but I don’t believe your callousness was aimed at me or my mother. It simply is. I’ve accepted that. Your mother made me an offer I can’t refuse.”

My eyes narrowed. “What offer?”

“A donation to my mother’s charity for children’s cancer research,” Sandra said.

“A donation? How much?” I asked.

“A billion dollars,” Sandra said.