Page 12 of Owned

There was a silence, two pairs of eyes, one blue, one black, staring at me with varying degrees of judgment.

I smiled wider. “Well, don’t everyone offer at once.”

“Who is it?” Cal asked, ignoring me. “Who’s the lucky girl?”

“Someone called Rowan James.” I kept my expression absolutely neutral. Another thing I wasn’t getting into that with them.

Ten gave me a narrow look. “Never heard of her.”

“Neither have I,” I lied.

Ten glanced at Caleb. “Name ring a bell to you?”

“No,” Caleb said. “Could she be?—”

He broke off abruptly as the door to Caleb’s office banged open and in came two young women, one a fiery redhead, the other a delicate blonde.

Speak of the devil.

Isabel, the redhead and Ten’s daughter, grinned at me as she approached. “Hey Atlas.”

I liked Isabel. I’d known her since she was a kid and she was an absolute delight. “Hey yourself.”

The blonde, her silvery hair a shining fall down her back, nodded to me. Zara, Ten’s little virgin. She and Isabel had been friends when they’d both worked at Cross International, Caleb’s company, before getting together Ten and Cal respectively. It had been awkward, at first, according to Isabel, and there was still some awkwardness there. Isabel, for example, did not go rushing up to Cal for a kiss, out of deference for her father standing next to him. Zara did the same with Ten, out of deference to her friend.

Complicated was one word for it and if there was one thing I didn’t do, it was complicated. Those two assholes were welcome to it.

“How was the shopping?” Ten asked as Isabel dumped her purse and a number of bags next to the couch I was sitting on before perching on the end.

“What are we all discussing?” she asked, ignoring him. “Something important clearly since you’ve all got that ‘don’t tell Isabel’ expression on your faces.”

Ten glanced first at me then Caleb, and I read his warning loud and clear.

Do not mention Charlotte’s bargain to her.

I got it. Isabel thought the sun shone out of Charlotte’s ass, and was quite prepared to argue with anyone who thought different. And since arguing with Isabel was fun but ultimately pointless, I gave Ten a slight nod to show him I’d understood.

Isabel, who had no patience with any of us, rolled her eyes. “It’s probably about the reunion on Nantucket, right? Don’t worry. I’ll ask Gran.”

I still couldn’t get over the casual way Isabel referred to Charlotte, arch-bitch of the Hamiltons, as ‘Gran’, and clearly Ten didn’t like it either, because he glanced at Cal, who sighed.

Isabel was famous for not listening to her father, but she’d listen to Caleb.

“Leave her alone, Isabel,” Cal said mildly. “She’s probably busy.”

I’d heard about the family reunion in glowing terms from Isabel, and in complaints from Ten. Charlotte had apparently decided to organize one to introduce Isabel to the rest of the family, and Ten was reluctant for her to go, mainly because he didn’t trust the Hamiltons as far as he could throw them.

She was an adult though, and had been adamant about going, though Caleb had insisted that he come too.

“I guess so,” Isabel allowed. “You should come, Dad. And Zara too.”

Ten scowled. Zara, who’d come to stand beside him, reached out and took his hand, winding her delicate fingers around his. “Might be an idea,” she said. “I’d like to go.”

He glanced down at her and I watched the scowl slide right off his face, sharp blue eyes softening. Zara’s effect on him was a goddamn miracle and even though I’d had severe doubts about him hooking up with her, there was no denying that she brought out the best in him.

“Do you?” he asked, his tone gentle. “You really want to subject yourself to that?”

She smiled up at him, Ten melting like a fucking ice cream in the sun. “If you were with me, I wouldn’t mind.”

---