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  “And I should trust yours?”

  “We’ll never see eye to eye on this,” Xavier pronounced. He looked ready to move on.

  “Not as long as you continue to run from your birthright.”

  “My birthright?” Xavier said bitterly, swinging back in his direction. “The only person Father thought was good enough to run the company was you, and he was ridiculously tough on all of us.”

  “Tough but fair.”

  “No, just tough. He groomed you to be the next him. It’s so embroiled in you, you don’t even have a separate identity. It started with the name. No one can tell anymore that you have your own personality because you are him, and because of that, you were his favorite, the crown prince of the Johnson empire.”

  “So jealousy is the reason you’ve abandoned your responsibility to help run the company?” Cyrus demanded. He’d known for a while that Xavier held resentment toward him, but he’d never been certain of the cause.

  “Did he ever ask you, ‘Why can’t you be more like your brother?’” Xavier snapped. He stopped, as if he’d revealed too much. Then he plowed on since he’d said plenty already. “I never measured up.”

  Cyrus was bewildered by his brother’s remarks. “Is that what you think?”

  “It’s what I know. I’m good at what I do,” Xavier said. “I help people and do something meaningful with my life instead of sipping champagne around the pool all day.”

  “If you think that’s how my day is spent, you’re wrong,” Cyrus said dryly.

  “Everyone knows how hard you work, Cyrus,” Xavier said in a grudging tone.

  Cyrus stared out at the guests, not really seeing them. All he saw was his father lying in the hospital bed, giving Cyrus his last instructions to take care of the family and keep the Johnson name clean. To continue building on the family’s success so future generations could benefit. They were tasks Cyrus took very seriously.

  “You’re wrong about Father,” he said. “He wanted you to work for the company. He wanted you and me to be side by side, running everything. He trusted you.”

  Xavier looked at Cyrus with a mixture of curiosity and suspicion. “Why are you telling me this?”

  “Because it’s true. He did believe in you, but he wasn’t very good at expressing himself.” A trait Cyrus seemed to have inherited.

  “Come on, Cyrus,” Xavier said with a chuckle. “Is this one of your tactics to get what you want? You want me back here, so now you’re trying to convince me Father actually wanted me to help run the company?”

  Cyrus stared straight at his brother. “You know I never play games to get what I want. Father wanted us to get along and run the company together, and he was disappointed in your lack of interest.”

  Xavier fell silent for awhile, mulling the words. “I’m not cut out for the corporate life,” he mumbled.

  “Maybe you’re afraid,” Cyrus said.

  “I’m not afraid,” Xavier growled, turning to his brother with his empty hand clenched into a fist at his side. “Stop saying that.”

  Cyrus faced him squarely. “Then stop running away,” he shot back. He glanced around to make sure they weren’t drawing attention to themselves. “Bring all your save-the-world passion to Johnson Enterprises. Who knows what will happen if you and I work together. We could possibly become the number one beer company in the country.” He’d thought about it at length, and it was possible. They were already in the top three, so to reach number one wasn’t entirely outside the realm of possibility. He wanted to bring in consultants to help them achieve that, but if he could get Xavier in there, too, with fresh perspectives and his brilliant mind, they might be unstoppable.

  “Are you saying you need me?” Xavier asked with a mocking smile.

  Cyrus didn’t respond right away. He thought about what Daniella had said about catching more flies with honey. He swallowed his pride.

  “Yes,” he answered finally. “I need you.”

  Xavier raised his eyebrows in surprise, and then he stared down into his drink. “I’ll think about it,” he muttered.

  Chapter Twelve

  Near the end of the evening, Cyrus took to the middle of the gathered group and toasted his sister and her future husband. Lucas made a toast as well, commenting on the “uneventful” progression of his and Ivy’s relationship. Everyone chuckled, knowing full well the details of their dramatic reconciliation. He then recited an original poem, professing his love for Ivy and their daughter, causing a series of ooh’s and ah’s from the group and Ivy to wipe away tears from her eyes.

  With the sun sinking, the exterior lights came on and slowly, guests started exiting. Lucas and Ivy said goodbye to each of them with hugs and kisses. Cyrus and his brothers huddled together, watching the departures. Their mother, Constance Johnson, walked over and clasped her hands in front of her. Her eyes encompassed her four sons, and her face glowed with pleasure and motherly pride. “It’s so good to see all my boys here together.” She patted Gavin’s cheek. “I trust you’re going to stay a while.”

  “I’m planning to,” he replied. He dodged her eyes when he said it, which made Cyrus doubt his sincerity.

  “Good.”

  She walked up to Cyrus and he bent so she could kiss his cheek. “Thank you, dear,” she said softly in his ear. “You made me and your sister very happy.” She then left to help tend to the parting guests.

  At least he was making someone happy. Cyrus searched for and saw his wife chatting with Ivy. A faint notch of regret swelled in his chest.

  Daniella had been noticeably ill at ease during the entire party. At least to him, though others probably didn’t notice. She was probably worried about tonight. He needed to think of a way to ease the transition back into married life.

  ****

  “I have to give you another hug before I go and tell you again how happy I am for you.” Daniella embraced Ivy.

  Ivy beamed at her. “Thank you.” She spread her fingers and stared at the brilliant Asscher cut diamond. Daniella’s had the same cut, except hers was a huge yellow diamond. “I can’t believe I’m getting married. Well, married again.” Ivy was a widow.

  Daniella had always gotten along with her. They’d become friends after she married Cyrus, and after they split, Ivy had told her, “Don’t be a stranger. You and I can still be friends even if you’re no longer married to my brother.”

  But Daniella hadn’t felt right about it, and she’d cut off all contact. The last time she’d seen Ivy was at the same restaurant opening for a friend where she’d seen Cyrus. They’d spoken briefly and she’d promised to call Ivy to do lunch, but she’d never called and neither had Ivy.

  “I’m so glad you’re back,” Ivy said with sincerity. “I hope the two of you can work it out this time. Goodness knows Cyrus needs someone to keep him in line.”

  “I don’t think anyone can keep him in line.”

  Ivy’s eyes filled with amusement. “True, he can be difficult, but he slowed down some after the two of you got married. We were all glad because, well…you know, after the health scare he had.”

  After Ivy dropped that bombshell, she hugged a family member who had approached. Daniella waited impatiently as they chatted before the woman walked away. “I didn’t know Cyrus had a health scare,” she said.

  “You didn’t? My goodness, he was in the hospital for two days. His body shut down from extreme exhaustion. We were all frantic and scared to death, of course.”

  Daniella’s stomach lurched sickeningly. Cyrus, who was so energetic, and who she often thought of as invincible, had been laid up in a hospital bed for days. “When did this happen?”

  Ivy screwed up her face in deep thought. “Um…about a year or two before he met you, I think. Yes, that’s right. When you consider that he’s always been an overachiever—I mean, he got his MBA from Wharton at twenty years old and started working with my father right after—I’m surprised it didn’t happen sooner. After he left the hospital, he became obsessive about
everything. You know how he is. He’s adamant about order and maintaining control in every aspect of his life, and not long after he fell ill, he bought a house and told my mother he wanted to get married and have kids. He kicked up his exercise regimen, and he started eating better. Proper eating habits was one of the things the doctor stressed. No more skipping meals and plenty of water.”

  Daniella glanced across the lawn to where Cyrus stood talking to Lucas and a family member. He looked so vibrant and strong, but now she understood his almost fanatical eating and exercise habits. “He never told me.”

  “You know how my brother is. He’s too busy taking care of everyone else, and God forbid anyone know he’s actually human—made of flesh and blood like the rest of us.”

  Daniella had always thought of him as godlike, but knowing his health had suffered in such an extreme way made him seem… She shook her head at the silly notion he needed caring for. The danger had long passed, and Cyrus was not vulnerable.

  “You would think his health scare would make him more compassionate toward others. The things he does to make money…” She bit her lip. She shouldn’t badmouth him to his own sister, but Ivy’s expression settled into one of reflection rather than condemnation.

  “He can definitely be difficult,” she agreed, “but his decisions aren’t always cut and dry, and frankly, I’m glad he has to make the final call on most things. I sure wouldn’t want to. A while back sales had declined for several years in a row. We’d all voted to keep the marketing firm in place because we thought they could turn things around. After all, my father had hired them and they’d worked with us for years, but Cyrus wasn’t convinced. He made the radical decision to fire them. The truth is, it was time for them to go, and he was the only one brave enough to make the call. He found a smaller firm in Atlanta and gave them the job to create a fresh marketing campaign. It included new ads and a brand new social media strategy. Since then, sales have spiked upward again. If he hadn’t made the decision to fire the first firm, we might have had to lay people off, something none of us wanted to do.”

  “Are you saying it wasn’t about the bottom line?”

  “No, Cyrus likes to make money. It’s always about the bottom line.” Ivy laughed. “But it’s more complicated than that.” She squeezed Daniella’s arm. “He works hard, sometimes too hard, and not even Mother can get him to slow down. That’s why I’m really glad the two of you are back together.” She looked so grateful, Daniella felt a pang of guilt. She didn’t plan to stay married to Cyrus. Ivy thought they had a much better relationship than they did. “You’re good for him.”

  Good for him, Daniella mused. She’d heard that comment before from other members of the Johnson family when they first married. While she considered their words a compliment, no one seemed to consider whether or not Cyrus was good for her.

  ****

  The ride home in the chauffeured sedan was quiet. Daniella stared out the window, watching the lights of the buildings go by.

  “You’re all moved in?” Cyrus asked beside her.

  She nodded and glanced over at him. “I haven’t been home yet.” It felt strange to call the mansion home, but it was, for now. “Shaun assured me everything will be unpacked when I get there.”

  “If you’re not satisfied with anything he’s done, let him know and he’ll fix it.”

  “I’m sure he did a good job,” she said.

  Cyrus worked his staff hard, but even she had to admit he was generous to them. They received large bonuses, not only in the form of money, but as trips abroad, cars, and jewelry. He was particularly sensitive to any familial issues among his staff. She recalled a time when Ms. Ernestine’s sister had been ill, and he’d paid to have her moved to a private facility and given his housekeeper paid time off to stay with her sister until she recovered.

  “How’s business?” Cyrus asked after a few minutes. He lifted his hand to forestall her response, and quickly added, “I’ll just listen.”

  A smile tugged at the corner of her mouth, and she gave in to it. They used to talk about business late at night. She’d tell him her concerns and what she worried about. Then he’d make suggestions of what she could do to fix the problems. At times she found it aggravating, but then she realized he was one of those men—the kind who saw a problem and had to fix it. He couldn’t help himself. She learned to preface every conversation with the words, “I just need you to listen.”

  “Business is good,” she said, staring at her fingers, “but there’s a lot going on.”

  “Like what?”

  She eyed him warily. She desperately wanted to confide in someone. But could she trust him?

  He shifted in the seat. “I can tell by the way you answered there’s more you want to say.”

  Very perceptive, as usual. In all honestly, she felt overwhelmed. Seeing her father had added another layer to the stress in her life. Between fighting with Cyrus, working on the business plan, and seeing her father, it was a wonder she hadn’t drunk more than one Bloody Mary at the party.

  “Beaux-Arts Galleries is expanding to Manhattan, and I’m a little stressed, I guess. We’re growing so fast, and um…” She chewed on her upper lip. “I’m nervous about it,” she said quietly.

  Embarrassed, she could feel his eyes on her but she refused to look at him. She’d said too much.

  “The bigger you get, the more responsibility there will be,” Cyrus said.

  “I suppose.”

  “You sound doubtful,” he said.

  “Sometimes I have my doubts.” She crossed her arms over her chest and stared out the window. She’d never admitted her fears to anyone, and since Cyrus was so confident in his abilities, he would only see her insecurities as weakness.

  “I promise not to tell you what to do, but I’ll tell you a quick story.” In the dim interior, the pools of his dark brown eyes were thoughtful as he searched for the right words. “One day my father told me I would be responsible for the launch of our seasonal beer. I was fresh out of graduate school and it was the first time he’d ever given me complete control over a product launch. I was worried I’d fail, and I told him. At the time he told me something I’ll never forget. ‘If you’re not a little scared, then you’re not thinking big enough. Nothing, not even failure, should stop your progress.’ Remember that, Dani. You can do anything you put your mind to.”

  Her throat constricted at his words of encouragement. “I didn’t know you felt that way.”

  “I’ve always thought you were smart. That’s one of the traits that attracted me to you.”

  Now she was confused. “But you were so adamant about having a child on a specific timeline, I thought…I thought you’d expect me to give up my gallery.”

  “Why would you think that?” Cyrus frowned. “Having a baby and having a career are not mutually exclusive. I never asked you to stop working. I know how much you enjoy your work and how important it is to you. You wanted your gallery to be one of the best on the west coast, and it is. Now you’re on your way to make waves on the east coast. I’m proud of you.”

  Her father had said the same thing, but for some reason Cyrus’s words held more value. She appreciated his words in a way she’d never expected.

  With a tilt of her head she considered him. “You know what I want. What do you want, Cyrus?” she asked.

  “Whatever my wife wants,” he quipped.

  “That can’t be all,” she said, refusing to let him off the hook. Based on what Ivy had told her at the party, she expected him to say he wanted a child. She knew that had to be the most important thing to him.

  “No, that’s not all I want,” he said quietly.

  “Then what?” Disconcerted by the thought she might not really know him at all, Daniella desperately wanted an answer to get insight into his character.

  His eyes didn’t leave hers. “I want you to be happy.”

  The way he said it, she almost believed him.

  Chapter Thirteen

 
Daniella took a deep breath. She looked calm enough in the bathroom mirror in her white silk dressing gown. She knotted the belt, unraveled it, and then knotted it again—tighter this time.

  She was alone because Cyrus had decided to do a walk-through of the house first before joining her upstairs. She’d used the time alone to freshen up and get dressed for bed. It felt silly to be so nervous, but she couldn’t help it. They hadn’t had sex in a long time, and if she were honest, the feeling in the pit of her stomach wasn’t only jitters but rather a fifty-fifty blend of jitters and heightened anticipation.

  She pulled open one of the drawers and pulled the pack of birth control pills from the back. She popped one out and dry-swallowed, then hid the package in the back again. She didn’t look at herself in the mirror. She wasn’t proud of the decision she’d made, but bringing a child into a marriage that would eventually break apart was not an option. All she had to do was get past the six month mark, and then she could get her divorce. She knew Cyrus would keep his word.

  When she exited the bathroom, she half expected to see him, but the room was quiet and he was nowhere in sight. No light under his bathroom door, so clearly he hadn’t come upstairs yet. She stood uncertainly in the middle of the room, unsure what to do. Would he expect her to be waiting naked in bed for him, or did he have seduction in mind tonight?

  She was about to slide into bed when the door opened and Cyrus walked in. He raised an eyebrow at her appearance and the sensation in her stomach deepened.

  “In a bit of a hurry, aren’t you? The night’s still young.” He began to unbutton his shirt.

  “I didn’t know what you expected or what timeframe you’re on.”

  “As much as I anticipate making love to you, have looked forward to it for days…” His voice drifted low with longing, causing a wave of sweltering heat to fan over her skin. “I’ve decided we’re going to take things slow.”

  The unexpected declaration left her speechless for several seconds. “What?”

  “That’s right. In fact, I won’t be touching you anytime soon.”