Page 31 of Always Mine (The Barrington Billionaires 1)
The next day, Asher stood behind his office desk and stretched. It had been one hell of a week, but he’d made progress in the areas he’d needed to. Thanks to Alethea, Asher had evidence that the cause of the fire was a wire that had been chewed through by a rodent who had built a nest inside one of the walls. He also had a photo of the insurance investigator kissing a woman who was not his wife. That photo had been in a file labeled “additional motivational material if necessary.” Blackmail hadn’t been necessary; Asher’s lawyers had taken the evidence the fire marshal had submitted and brought it to the attention of the insurance company again. In case they had missed it.
With that done, Asher was free to turn his attention back to the more complicated issue of getting Emily to speak to him again. He’d received an email from her lawyer that she wanted to sell to B&H. He’d immediately tried to call her, but his call went to voice mail. He considered flying there and forcing her to see him, but he’d spent a lot of time thinking about why she’d believed the worst of him.
Because I’ve shown my worst to her.
He wanted to earn her trust this time. His father had told him she didn’t need a hammer, and he’d been right. Emily had dreams of her own and deserved to be with a man who supported them. He’d never imagined himself with a wife or family, but the idea of never waking beside Emily again was unacceptable.
Dominic had moved from the world Asher was in to a place he said allowed him to look himself in the mirror each day. Seeing him in action inspired Asher to reevaluate his plan for what came after Trundaie. He’d bring Bennett Stone stateside and do a better job of patrolling how B&H’s policies were implemented. He hadn’t been guilty of Emily’s fire, but he could have been, and that wasn’t what he wanted for himself or his company.
Ryan beeped in via the intercom. “Your uncles are here.”
“Who?”
“Alessandro and Victor Andrade. They said they have an appointment.”
“Send them in.”
Two older Italian men entered. One with a big smile, one with a more reserved expression. Asher knew them only from photos, old photos his mother took out around the holidays. Asher closed the door in the face of a curious Ryan. “Gentlemen, have a seat.”
“Thank you,” they said in unison and sat down.
Asher leaned back against the front of his desk. “You do realize we’re not related.”
Alessandro said, “Your mother’s sister married our oldest brother.”
Asher nodded. “Exactly.”
Victor said, “By my definition, that’s family.”
Asher folded his arms across his chest. “We’ll have to agree to disagree on that point.”
“Victor, doesn’t he remind you of Gio?”
“Gio? No. He’s Max. Look at the nose.”
Asher raised a hand. “Was there something you wanted?”
Alessandro waved his hands as he spoke. “Your brother Lance has come to some of our family’s events, but not you. How can we change that?”
Asher rubbed his hands over his face. He was tired, hungry, and desperately missing Emily. He wasn’t in the mood to pander to self-labeled family, not while he was still smoothing things over with his real one. “I wish I had more time, but I have somewhere I need to be.” It’s called anywhere but here.
Victor looked around the office before meeting Asher’s gaze. “The older Alessandro and I get, the more sentimental we become. To an Andrade, family is everything.”
Asher straightened. “I’m a Barrington.”
Alessandro smiled. “You’re right, Victor. He has a lot of Max in him.”
Victor leaned forward. “Family isn’t defined by blood alone. I sent Dominic to see you because he understands that. And I don’t want to push, but a little gratitude would be appropriate.”
Instead of thanking him, Asher asked, “Why the hell do you care what happens to me? You didn’t care about my father.”
Alessandro stood and turned to Victor. “What is he talking about?”
Victor shrugged. “I bet it’s the scandal.” He turned back to Asher. “Dale asked us to stay out of it. We offered to help him.”
Asher shook his head slowly. “Why would my father turn down help from family?” He spoke the last word with thick sarcasm.
Victor and Alessandro exchanged a look, then Victor said, “Your Aunt Patrice was not the nicest woman, but your mother loved her. At the time, there were rumors that Patrice was jealous of your mother’s happiness and tried to ruin it. Your mother didn’t believe she was capable of that kind of vindictiveness. She begged your father not to go up against her sister. Your father had to choose between his wife’s happiness and his reputation. You saw the result. He lost his political career, but he and your mother are still together, no?”
Asher’s head was spinning. “Why are you telling me this?”
“Two reasons,” Alessandro said.
Victor continued, “One, we are so upset over what we’re hearing about your mother’s auction. What is wrong with the people here? They can’t see that your girlfriend’s innocent? A little hint of fraud sends them all scurrying away? We can’t sit back and watch Sophie be humiliated over this. We want to come to the auction.”
“I’ll talk to my mother,” Asher said and looked at the door in a not-so-subtle hint for them to leave.
“Tell her we will bid fifty . . . a hundred . . . maybe two hundred. Just to be safe.”
“I’ll have her call you,” Asher promised and started toward the door.
“Wait,” Alessandro said. “There is the other matter.”
Asher froze and turned on his heel.
Victor went to stand beside Alessandro. “Are you in love with Emily Harris?”
Asher turned back and strode to the door. “I’m not doing this.” He started to open the door.
Both Alessandro and Victor sat back down. Alessandro said, “Victor, he doesn’t think he needs us.”
Victor arched an eyebrow. “I bet she’s not even talking to him.”
“Get the fuck out of my office,” Asher growled.
“He’s rude,” Victor said dryly.
“And he still hasn’t said thank you.”
Asher’s temper rose. “I don’t want to manhandle two old men, but you need to leave.”
“He called you old,” Alessandro said with a chuckle.
“You, too,” Victor said and shrugged.
“Did you ever think we’d be the matchmakers of the family?”
“No, but this one desperately needs our help.”
Am I sleeping? Because this is a nightmare. “What do I need to do to get you out of my office?”
Alessandro looked over his shoulder at Asher. “We are both happily married and, not to toot our own horns, but we’re very good in the romance department, if you know what I mean.”
“I really don’t want to know.”
Victor asked, “Do you want to marry Emily Harris, or not?”
Asher groaned then said, “Yes.”
Alessandro slapped a hand on the edge of Asher’s desk. “Then sit down, son, because you’ve got a lot to learn about women.”
Chapter Eighteen
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Emily stuffed her cold hands into the pockets of her jacket and walked up the steps of the Barrington home. The front door opened before Emily had time to ring the bell.
“It’s good see you, Emily,” Dale said and stepped back. “Come in.” He closed the door then asked if he could take her coat.
Emily shook her head. She was cold to the bone and shaking. Not too many things intimidated her, but the Barringtons had been kind to her, and she had repaid them by accusing them of arson. She wouldn’t blame them if they didn’t accept her apology and threw her out. There was no way around seeing them again, though. Partly because she needed to get her collection back and partly because she felt badly about everything she’d said the night of the fire. “How is Sophie?”
He stared at her without answering, then finally said, “It was a difficult week for her. It always is, but she was upset that you thought any of us would ever hurt you.”
