Page 13 of Country Contract

“You tried to sneak a bite of the risotto?” He looks at me, honest interest on his face.

“Yes, it’s a comfort food made by Maria. I love her cooking.”

“She made a magnificent dish. Have you been to Italy?”

“No.” We cut through an opening in the hedges with a trellis covered in vines. During the summer, the vines had flowers that were beautiful during their full bloom. Now, as fall approaches, only the vines remain.

“The food there is divine, and if you like Maria’s risotto,you would experience nirvana in Italy. I’ll take you,” he states as if it’s a done deal.

“You’ll take me to Italy?” I ask, stopping in my tracks.

Heath turns toward me, not letting go of my arm, keeping me close.

“Italy, Germany, St. Thomas, Greece, France, Brazil, wherever.” His brows soften, and his eyes search my face. I am uncomfortable under his intense gaze, so I make sure to avoid eye contact. I turn my face toward the garden and scan the space.

“I hear you are planning to expand into publishing with the media aspects of your business.” A more superficial conversation will put me at ease.

“Yes, I have a recent interest in publishing.” Heath starts to walk with me down the path again, and we start to see the art that is my mother’s garden: winding paths with flower beds and water features, small artistic statues strategically placed, and the pergola we love to utilize.

“Recent?”

“My future seems to be in publishing if I wish to get into the good graces of a particular someone.” I want this walk to end. Too many direct comments about the future. Too many flirtatious moments that I am not ready for or comfortable with.

“Is that so?” I don’t know what else to say.

“Harlow.” My name is almost a command. I hear his phone buzz, just as I have for most of our walk. He lets out a sigh and finally pulls it out. He uses one hand to merely swipe it open, then looks at whatever is so pressing and slides it back into his slacks. “I am a busy man. I would like to partner with a busy woman. I’ll be direct. You are lovely, almost unearthly so. I need someone who will not be bored by my side and finding someone with aspirationsof her own that I can help blossom would be ideal. According to your father, you have no desire to take over the West legacy?” he asks.

I shake my head, trying to quicken our pace without being obvious. Sprinting would be utterly transparent.

“I don’t particularly want West Inc., but there are many benefits to our merger. For you, it would be job security, an endless supply of money, and a marriage of status. You merely have to give me a chance.” It could be romantic if I were any other woman, but I’m me. It’s too much like a business deal, as is the rest of my family life.

Is this how Heidi’s husband approached her? Did she fall for such ridiculous words? Endless money? Status? I couldn’t care less. I just want to stay me.

“I collect moths,” I say randomly. “I hate bright colors,” I add. “I prefer to be on my own over being with someone, and my musical taste is described as eclectic, at best.”

Heath quirks a brow at me.

I continue. “I spend most of my money on oddities and random things that bring me joy. I’ve grown accustomed to things that are name-brand due to my upbringing.”

“Moths? Don’t they ruin your clothing?” he asks genuinely.

“They’re dead,” I state.

“Dead. Dead Moths?”

“Yes, I have them framed and hanging on my wall, as art.”

“You have an interest in art?” He jumps.

“You’re missing my point,” I redirect.

“What is your point, Harlow? All I’m hearing is you trying to convince me I shouldn’t give you a chance. Which is almost the exact opposite of what I was asking.” He has that confident smirkback on his face.

“My point is, I am me. I like the way things are. I would prefer as little change in my life as possible.”

“I’ll do my best,” he interrupts me.

“You don’t even know me,” I add, offended that he’s so sure.

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