Page 95 of A Soldier's Return

Eben and Anna Galvez would be perfect for each other. The hotel tycoon and the sharp, focused businesswoman. They were both type A personalities, both probably had lifetime subscriptions toThe Wall Street Journal, both probably knew exactly the difference between the Dow Jones and the NASDAQ—and how much of their respective portfolios were tied up in each, down to the penny.

Sage could barely manage to balance her checkbook most months and still carried a balance on her credit card from paying a down-on-his-luck friend’s rent a few months earlier.

Yeah, Eben and Anna would make a good pair. So why did the idea of the two of them together leave her feeling vaguely unsettled?

“You said the second floor is empty?”

“Yes. We’re still trying to figure out what we want to do, whether we want to fix it up and rent it out or leave things as is. Too many decisions to make all at once.”

“I didn’t understand that you owned the place. I thought you were renting.”

She made a face. “I own it as of a month ago. Well, sort of.”

“How do you sort of own something?”

“Anna and I co-inherited the place and everything in it, including Conan.”

He looked intrigued and she didn’t like feeling her life was one interesting puzzle for him to solve. “So the dog came with the house?” he asked.

“Something like that.”

“So are you and Anna related in some way?”

“Nope.” She sipped at her wine. “It’s a long story.”

She didn’t want to talk about Abigail so she deliberately changed the subject.

“I understand from Chloe you’re in town to buy The Sea Urchin from Stanley and Jade Wu.”

Frustration flickered in his green eyes. “That’s the plan, anyway.”

“When do you expect to close the sale?”

“Good question. There have been a few...complications.”

“Oh?”

“Everything was supposed to be done by now but I’m afraid the Wus are having second thoughts. I’m still working hard to convince them.”

“My daddy has a lot of other hotels,” Chloe piped up, “but he really, really wants The Sea Urchin.”

Of course. No doubt it was all about the game to him, the acquisition of more and more. Just like her own father, who had virtually abandoned his child to the care of others, simply to please his narcissistic, self-absorbed socialite of a second wife.

“And I imagine whatever you want, you get, isn’t that right?”

She meant to keep her voice cool and uninterested, but she was fairly sure some of her bitterness dripped into her words.

He studied her for a long moment, long enough that she felt herself flush at her rudeness. He didn’t deserve to bear the brunt of an old, tired hurt that had nothing to do with him.

“Not always,” he murmured.

“Can I have another breadstick?” Chloe asked into the sudden awkward silence.

Her father turned his attention to her. “How many have you had? Four, isn’t it?”

“They’re so good, though!”

Sage had enough experience with both eight-year-olds and dogs to know exactly where the extra breadsticks were going—under the table, where Conan lurked, waiting patiently for anything tossed his way.

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