Page 87 of Share with Me

Except…

She would give Ivan anything.

Oddly enough, he hadn’t asked for anything at all. She had given him whatever she thought he needed except for this afternoon when Ivan had personally called pest control. He had insisted at the compromise or else she would have sent Tobias Vega to fix his porch. They settled in the middle. Ivan would get the termites exterminated, and she would stop asking to fix his porch.

She wanted him to have a nice porch.

And a nice house.

A home?

“Sure, Brinley. Point is, you don’t need another Strad.”

“You’re right, Jared,” Brinley said. “I don’t even play the violin. I’m only here at the Ball representing Dad.”

“Who is out of the country.” Jared smiled. “Maybe I could come over, have lunch, and talk about Brooks Investments. Hate to see you all by yourself in that big old cottage.”

Ivan cleared his throat. “She’s not by herself.”

“Oh, a live-in.”

“That’s not what I meant.” Ivan’s face turned red.

“Then what do you mean, Ivan?”

“It means that we need to go.” Brinley started walking, pulling Ivan along. “See you later, Jared.”

Moments later, they were far enough away for Ivan to vent. “Who is that jerk?”

“He’s not a jerk.”

“Are you defending him?”

“No. I’m saying don’t worry about him.” Brinley placed a palm on his chest. She could feel his heartbeats underneath that white shirt.

“I saw him kiss your cheek and touch your arm.” Ivan reached up and held Brinley’s hand in place with his.

Now Brinley felt his heartbeat increase. “Are you jealous, Mr. McMillan?”

Before Ivan could answer, the harpist he had been talking to earlier appeared out of nowhere, holding his navy blue coat with gold buttons. Brinley watched her hand it to Ivan, telling him in a dulcet twang that Conductor Petrocelli had given them a two-minute warning.

“Thanks, Em.” Ivan threw on the coat.

“Em?” Brinley asked. Their familiarity with each other bothered her a bit.

Only a bit.

Not!

“Are you jealous, Miss Brooks?” Ivan countered.

* * *

Ivan couldn’t believehis ears when the professional benefit auctioneer rattled off increasingly bigger numbers for the 1736 Guarneri del Gesù violin after he had played the fastestFlight of the Bumble Beehe’d ever played on any violin. The Guarneri held flawlessly against Nikolai Rimsky-Korsakov’s original composition.

But that was over now. The Guarneri had been taken away from him forever, laid down to rest in that old case before the bids had begun.

He knew that Brinley’s table was somewhere away from his line of sight in the large ballroom, but he was glad she wasn’t at the same table as Jared Urquhart. Ivan watched Jared flick his bid paddle, smirking as he showed off how much money he could burn on that Guarneri. Ivan would like to take that paddle and swat that smirk off Jared’s face.

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