18
The meeting is eventful, to say the least. Halfway through, his father makes a grand entrance, and everyone clears the room quickly, leaving the two Carrero men to go at it like raging bulls. I stand outside observing the many eyes watching them through the glass. With my back to them, iPad in hand, I reply to emails; I can hear them arguing in Italian so that no one else can understand what they’re saying.
His father is pissed, but Jake is tormenting him. I can tell by his tone of voice, and a glance at his aggressive posture confirms it. He never knows when to stop. The merger could still be called off; he should be smoothing things over, not letting his feelings get the better of him.
Finally, Senior storms out, yelling something in hostile Italian, and Jake snorts in answer. Senior glares back at him before stomping off with a flurry of nervous assistants running after him, the air crackling with tension.
“Emma!” Jake’s voice makes me jump; he sounds angry, and I snap around as he walks out, loosening his tie. His eyes, usually so still, are stormy and dark, and despite his controlled, cool expression, I know he’s aggravated.
“This merger is going ahead,” he almost growls at me, looking ferocious. I swallow my nerves back down. “He isn’t stopping it?” I’m surprised by this.
“He can’t.” He frowns and takes my arm, pulling me back into the board room, and slides the door closed, holding me close to his face. Another example of his hands-on approach.
“It’s gone public, just like I planned. If Carl Hunter or my father back out now, it will damage their reputations. They both stand to make a lot of money, and many jobs ride on this merger. Hunter can’t refuse; his business will go under if he does.”
I realize now that maneuvering this deal in specific ways and letting certain facts leak has been deliberate the last few weeks. Brains behind the brawn, one of the reasons his father always pushed him to get involved in the family business. Funny that it’s backfired on him.
“If he stands to gain from this, why is he so angry?” I query. I know Giovanni Carrero values money above all things.
“He despises Carl Hunter; you know this.” He shrugs with one shoulder and casts a look over my head, frowning at the meandering staff.
“Why did you choose to do this deal if you knew it would be this way?” I’ve been dying to ask him this question for weeks but never felt it was my place to interrogate him. Jake’s expression closes, and he looks thoughtful.
“Let’s go for food; I don’t want to talk here.” He glances up and out of one of the long windows again, insinuating he doesn’t trust nearby ears.
“You just had lunch an hour ago, Jake,” I point out, but he shrugs in response, and I know it doesn’t matter. The boy could eat all day and still find space for seconds. He has the appetite of a horse.
***
’m sitting across from Jake at Eleven Madison Park, a bustling popular restaurant and his current favorite, and watching him mess with his cell while we wait on our food.
“Jake?” I interrupt gently.
“Emma?” he responds without looking up. He’s deliberately being evasive.
“The Hunter merger?” My curiosity has been niggling at me all the way here, and I have been extremely patient. He sighs, puts his cell inside his jacket, and brings his steady green gaze back to me, his face unreadable.
“My father and Hunter are not what you would call the best of friends anymore,” he mumbles quietly, sighing that he can’t avoid this explanation any longer.
“Anymore?” I repeat flatly.
“Yes, Emma, anymore. They used to be as close as Daniel and I are.” He leans back, sliding down into his chair a little, and shifts his feet to cage mine on either side under the table, our upper ankles connecting slightly. Jake is a toucher; he always has to have some sort of contact. It no longer bothers me, but it was such a slow thing that I got used to.
“What happened?” I watch his face carefully; he’s good at giving nothing away, a great poker face.
“My father had an affair with Elsa Hunter.” Daniel’s mother and Hunter’s wife.
Crap.
I wasn’t expecting that.
Is that the basis of his bond with Daniel? Shared anger at their parents?
“It’s not exactly common knowledge,” he sighs and moves his water glass; he needs a point of focus. I can tell this is something he hates talking about. Jake only fidgets when he’s very uncomfortable, and it’s his biggest tell; he’s watching the items he moves around as though for distraction.
“When?” I know I shouldn’t pry, but Jake rarely denies me knowledge on any subject. Weirdly.
“When I was in my early twenties. My mother forgave him, but I didn’t, not for a long time,” he pauses, “I’m not sure I’ve forgiven him even now. He broke her heart.” Jake’s relationship with his mother is unparalleled. I can now see why he harbors so much anger towards his father, and I also see why Jake is a little apprehensive about genuine relationships.
“Is that why you pushed for this merger? To get back at him?” I nudge his ankle gently with mine so he’ll look at me.
“Yes … no … we stand to do well with this, but I guess it’s always been a factor,” he shrugs and avoids my gaze, signaling that the money hasn’t been the main reason. Jake’s also a ‘shrugger’; it has to be his most common mannerism, annoyingly so. It does, however, emphasize his shoulders and the sheer solid mass of them.
“How did you find out?” I try tearing my gaze from his upper body, still appreciative that he looks good in everything he wears.
“Carl Hunter caught them in bed together, in his own house.” He’s still focusing on his glass and turning it absentmindedly, clearly not happy.
“So, that’s why there’s a weird atmosphere whenever your father’s around?” I watch his every movement, a little empathetic to how young he looks when he does this.
Makes so much more sense now.
“I don’t think I can ever forgive him for hurting my mom like that. She deserves better than him.” I know Jake is close to his mother; he visits her often and has me send her flowers every month: a dozen colorful gerberas … her favorites.
A thoughtful son.
“She stayed with him, though? She could have left him if she wanted to,” I point out, a little enamored with how deeply he feels for his mother’s heartache.
Sensitive and loyal. Who would have guessed it?
“You try leaving a famous billionaire when he’s been caught with his finger in someone else’s pie, Bambina. She knew he’d cause chaos for her if she tried. It’s one of the reasons I feel like I do about him. He’s a fucking control freak, and all he cares about is his reputation.” The flash of anger surprises me. Jake isn’t one to lose his cool so easily or publicly. He shifts in his chair, takes a deep breath, and quells his outburst; his eyes are still stormy, but his awareness of the surroundings causes it to burn out quickly.
“He forced her to stay?” I understand now why he feels that way.
“In a way, I feel he did.” He gazes across the restaurant, trying to find his inner calm in the sea of strange faces around us.
“And now?” I urge, coaxing him with no real input to give back.
“She’s in her fifties; she’s resigned herself to the fact she won’t ever be able to find someone else, and I guess she still has feelings for him. She’s trapped in a loveless marriage.” He looks back at me, a small sarcastic smile brewing. The hurt is evident on his face, and it makes me want to reach out and take his hand, but I hold back.
“A loveless marriage?” The thought is so sad, especially for someone as lovely as Sylvana Carrero.
“It’s been loveless on his part for a long time, Emma. I think even before the affair, there were cracks in the facade. My father married her after a one-month romance.” He finally stops looking around evasively; his eyes rest on my face.
“Do you think Elsa was the only affair?” I ask, wondering why he’s telling me this now.
“Probably not, but it’s the only one I found out about.”
“It explains why you’re always so off with him. Your parents seem fine when I’ve met them at events.” It’s true; a beautiful woman and her adoring husband are very well portrayed in person. How sad that the truth is so very different. I know all about hiding actual appearances; I am a master of deceit in my own right.
“A carefully played ruse, Emma. My father is all about appearances; my mother knows her place and how to play her part.” Jake looks angry again, but his demeanor is still cool and controlled; he moves his glass for the tenth time in a show of discomfort.
“So, your behavior in your younger years? Rebelling was payback?” This has interested me for a while; his wild teen days and his reform always seemed at odds with how he is now. He shrugs and drinks his wine, deep in thought.
“Some … I had other reasons too.” He looks anywhere but at me, and I can tell he’s hiding something, being evasive again.
“Such as?” I nudge again with a soft smile, not easily swayed.
“Italian blood.” He smiles impishly, trying to pass off my question, but I see it doesn’t reach his eyes. It’s the first time I’ve ever seen him genuinely avoidant when it comes to our chats; usually, he’s so open with me about everything. I push down the tremor of doubt, my gut telling me that maybe I’m overthinking it.
Our steaks arrive, and we sit silently while the waitress lays them out on our table. He gives her one of his seductive smiles, and I watch her slump with desire.
Jesus, you’re being so obvious. It’s pathetic, woman!
I frown across at him, a visual telling off. He likes to invoke the reaction for his amusement, the eternal playboy with the childish temperament. He wants the effect he has on women of all ages.
“She may have trouble finishing her shift now,” I scold after she wanders away.
“Jealous?” He winks at me, but I just glare at him coldly.
No! Maybe.
“Your un-flailing libido never fails to impress me,” I retort sarcastically, ignoring how often it does annoy me.
“Least I have a sex life.” He takes a mouthful of food, giving me that teasing eyebrow lift of his.
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