Modern Romance June 2019 Books 5-8. Andie Brock
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there, without prospects. Not even at school any longer.”
“Did you want to compete? Or did she force you to do that, too?”
“I saw opportunity and applied myself. I only competed in national titles for girls in the younger categories. I left before I moved into the teen contests. I’m confident I would do well in the global pageants if I entered today. It’s one of my contingency plans, if I’m deported. There’s quite an investment up front, though. You have to win all the feeder pageants. It’s a long game.” She was talking too fast. “That’s the only reason I set up an account for myself in Venezuela. If I’m forced to draw from it, I promise I’ll pay you back with interest.”
He didn’t immediately refuse her, only narrowed his eyes. “Pageants sound like a path to modeling. Would it be so bad to start there?”
“In Venezuela? The minute I gained any sort of publicity, my mother would come back into my life. I’d prefer to avoid that.”
“That’s the main reason you don’t want to be deported? Your mother?”
“Sí.” She poked at the stingray flesh, unable to take another bite of it.
“Stop torturing that. It’s already dead.” He took her barely touched plate and set it atop his emptied one. “I’ll finish it if you’re only going to play with it.”
“I’ll clean toilets if that becomes the only option available to me,” she told him, clutching her empty hands in her lap. “I will pursue programming, which I know can pay well, but it’s also a long game. My physical attributes mean I can aim for a higher and faster return if I try modeling or something like it. It only makes sense that I try. Don’t you agree?”
She held her breath, waiting for his assessment. So far he hadn’t pulled any punches. If he said she wasn’t attractive enough, she would rethink her strategy.
His gaze swept across her face in an almost tangible caress, like a cool scarf of silk wafted over her skin.
“I can’t deny you’re beautiful.” The gravel in his tone had her reflexively holding her breath, waiting for a strange all-over ache to subside.
Then he looked away and his expression hardened, making something catch in her chest. She wanted him to keep looking at her, keep sending that electric current through her that held such possibility.
“I’m only asking that you take me with you and give me time to establish myself,” she pleaded softly. “I’ll continue my work on Mae’s investments in exchange for accommodation and meals—”
“Quite the bargain, considering your minimalist approach to both.”
“I would need a small loan for clothing and makeup, but I can continue wearing this uniform for office work—”
“Like hell you can.”
She closed her eyes, angry with herself for trying too hard. Judges could always smell desperation.
Ignoring the sting behind her eyes, she considered other avenues of persuasion. He hadn’t seemed interested in sex in exchange for favors, maybe because he sensed her inexperience in that department? Should she tell him she’d read up on that particular topic? Extensively? She was always willing to put in the work to do better.
Soft footsteps sounded. The maid arrived with braised duck on a bed of colorful, julienned vegetables.
“Take that one back,” he said of Luli’s plate before the maid could set it. “You enjoy it. We’ll share this one. I’m getting full.” He sent Luli a droll look as he set the single plate between them.
The maid curtsied and hurried away with her full plate and fresh gossip. Luli imagined she would be accused of sleeping with Mrs. Chen’s grandson very soon. Little did they know he had already turned her down.
“Mr. Dean—”
He dipped his chin in warning.
“Gabriel?” She said it softly, not wanting to be overheard when it felt so much like an overstep. She was still the youngest on staff and always addressed others formally or at least with a respectful auntie.
“Eat,” he commanded. “My turn to talk.”
He was the one who had asked so many questions, forcing her to go on and on. She singled out a pale stick of daikon and nibbled the sweet-spicy end of it.
He sat back and regarded her with flinty eyes as he sipped his wine.
“You accused me of neglecting my grandmother—not stepping in to manage things before today. She disowned my mother before I was born. I met Mae for the first time at my mother’s funeral when I was seven. I didn’t see her again until five years had passed. My father warned me about allowing her to influence me, which seemed paranoid, but he knew her better than I did. I saw her again at my father’s funeral and we remained in touch—through you, I now realize, but I never made assumptions about whether I would inherit her fortune. As for assisting in managing her wealth... How would I know she needed help? You’ve done your job so well, I had no cause for concern.”
Was that a compliment or a rebuke?
He set down his stemless glass.
“I, however, have no need for your management services. Chen Enterprises is mine. I’ll chew and swallow it the way I would any other company that falls under my control, restructuring where necessary and allowing my existing legion of executives to do what I pay them to do.”
She kept her expression a stiff mask, not revealing the crumple inside her.
“As to the threats you’ve made, my life is completely impervious to them. I don’t need my grandmother’s money and her misdeeds are not mine. I’m not close enough to her for her loss of good standing to affect my pride. You’re the one who will feel it if you implode her legacy. I’ll walk away unscathed.”
She had known that, deep down. She had known she had no real leverage. She had nothing and was nothing. Her throat tightened and it took all her effort to keep the press of tears from reaching the front of her eyes.
“So I’m to be deported?” Her stomach fell while the flutter of nerves behind her heart became the panicked batter of bird wings against a window.
He wasn’t saying anything.
Through the lashes she dropped to disguise her agony, she saw his lips curl, but it wasn’t a smile. Self-deprecation, perhaps.
She set down her chopsticks, but she couldn’t think beyond that.
“You’re not going to eat? Come with me, then.” He rose abruptly and started into the house.
She half expected to be shown the front door, but he went up the wide staircase and strode into Mae’s bedroom. She trailed him on feet that felt encased in cement, heart dragging as a weight behind her.
She had only been in this bedroom a handful of times. It was the purview of Mae’s personal maid and her nurse, decorated in Mae’s signature classic style without too much fuss or femininity, if a little dated. Mae never spent money unless she had to.
The mirror over the makeup table swung open like a cupboard. Gabriel revealed a safe and punched in the code.
“How did you—?”
“You can open these older safes by setting them back to their factory default. It takes longer to look up the combination online than it does to actually break in.” He removed a leather-bound portfolio. “I was looking for her will and also I found this.” He handed the portfolio to her.
“What is it?” She unzipped it to see a handful of her standard reports on some Chinese businessmen. Head shots, the natures of their businesses, net worth, any red flags that might cause Mae to have concerns about partnering with them.
“I don’t know why she had this in her safe. It’s a very typical—”