Page 2 of In the Heir (Westerly Billionaire 1)
He slid out of the car and held a hand for Alisha to take. “Then come on, future Mrs. Westerly. Let’s go face the dragon.”
“Stop there.” Brett slammed a hand down on his desk as his temper flared in response to an unwelcome announcement from Dennis Lockhart, the European market director for Westerly Corp. “We had an agreement. They will hold up their end.”
Dennis said, “Daten Jetzt is claiming a change in European Union policies negates our current contract.”
“We need to stay on the inside track in Germany or that market will go to shit.”
“I wish I had better news for you, but we’ve hit a wall.”
Brett swore. Dennis wasn’t one to give up, which meant the situation was serious. “I’ll look into it and call you back.” After hanging up, Brett stood, ran his hand through his thick black hair in frustration, and shrugged off his dark-gray Kiton suit jacket.
Failure wasn’t an option. It never had been.
Westerlys don’t lose.
He impatiently made calls to everyone from the German minister for economics and technology to the German ambassador to the United States. He called in favors, threatened, and pushed through every roadblock until he had both the information and the ammunition needed. Then he called the CEO in question and laid out exactly what his company would lose if it didn’t honor the initial deal. Within minutes he had confirmation that all would go as originally planned.
Satisfied, Brett hung up and flexed. That, Dennis, is how to win.
“Mr. Westerly?” his secretary’s impeccably calm voice floated through the intercom. Gina Carlise was computer-like perfection in human form. If the woman had a life outside the office, Brett didn’t know about it, and that was how he preferred it.
“Gina.”
“Your brother is here.”
“Send him in.”
“He’s not alone.”
Brett frowned. He didn’t like surprises, and the past week had been full of them. “Send them in.” If he’d realized that missing his grandmother’s birthday party would upset her the way it did, he would have gone. Of all his family members, he was the closest to his grandmother.
His interaction with the rest of his family was primarily special-occasion texts and e-mail updates. There wasn’t time to get together beyond that, not if one wanted to achieve his level of success. He’d long ago given up trying to explain that to his siblings. They’d embraced the middle-class lifestyle his mother had dragged her youngest three children down to. As far as he could see, they were happy to settle for scraping by. They refused to accept money from their father, and every attempt Brett made to help them had been perceived as an insult.
Which hadn’t stopped Brett from smoothing the way for them when he could. As his father had done, Brett made sure the family was taken care of even if it meant doing so behind the scenes. If they applied for a scholarship, they got it. A loan? The bank approved them. Not that they knew that. They’d never understood why Brett had chosen to live with his father rather than with his mother when she left the family home. His only regret? Not being able to watch over his younger siblings. They had taken it as a sign that he didn’t care. Neither Rachelle, Spencer, nor Nicolette knew he employed people whose only job was to make sure his family got what they needed without ever knowing it was from him. It was better that way.
However, a week ago, his grandmother’s lawyer had delivered her insane offer to dole out inheritances early to any of her grandchildren who married a person of her approval, and invited her, along with the rest of their siblings, to the wedding. Even as he’d read the ultimatum that if they were not married at the time of her death, their inheritance would be donated to a designated list of charities, he’d dismissed it as ridiculous. His lawyers were already looking into the legality of such a stipulation. It would never hold up in court. He hadn’t been concerned until he’d heard that Spencer had gotten engaged, an impulsive act that necessitated direct intervention.
The door of his office opened, and Spencer walked in, dressed in a polo shirt and jeans with an equally casually dressed blonde on his arm. Brett sensed hesitation in his brother’s entrance and sighed impatiently. “Come in, Spencer.”
The woman at his side appeared to give his brother a nudge forward. She was pretty in a wholesome, milk-commercial kind of way, and full-figured. He wasn’t surprised to see she wore little makeup. Definitely his brother’s style.
So that’s Alisha Coventry. He’d heard her name over the years and recognized her from photos with his sister. As his brother’s conveniently announced fiancée, she wouldn’t want to hear anything he was about to say. “We need to talk, Spencer. Gina, why don’t you take my brother’s friend to get some coffee in the café?”
Spencer straightened to his full height and pulled the blonde closer to his side. “That’s not necessary. Whatever you have to say to me, you can say in front of Alisha.”
Brett looked past his brother to his secretary. “Gina.”
His secretary stepped forward and addressed his brother’s security blanket. “I’d love to show you the café if you’d like to join me.”
The blonde smiled politely at his secretary, then turned steely blue eyes to Brett. “Thank you, but I’d prefer to stay here.”
There was a quiet confidence in her voice that had Brett looking her over again. She wore her hair in a wild, angelic style, but she returned his gaze without blinking. His brother could do worse than to choose a woman with a spine. “This is a family matter.”
Spencer glanced down at Alisha, then looked back at Brett and said, “Alisha is family, or she will be very soon. We’re getting married.”
“That’s what we need to discuss.”
Gina excused herself discreetly and closed the door behind her as she left.
Alisha gave Spencer’s arm a supportive squeeze. Not just any angel, a guardian one at that. Brett felt an unwelcome flash of attraction to her. He shook his head. She lacked the sophistication of the women he generally went for.
And she’s Spencer’s.
Spencer squared his shoulders. “Like I said, there’s nothing you could say to me that you can’t say in front of Alisha.”
With a growl of frustration, Brett said, “Does she know about the clause?”
Alisha’s chin rose proudly. “Of course I do.”
Brett admired her spunk, but focused on what was important. He met his youngest brother’s eyes. “You don’t have to do this. I already have lawyers looking into our grandmother’s mental competence.”
Spencer shook his head in disgust. “You’re serious? That’s low, even for you.”
A flush warmed Brett’s cheeks as his temper rose. “She’s obviously not in her right mind, and you’re a fool if you marry someone just because she said you should.”
Alisha’s eyes widened. “Wow, you’re exactly the way Spencer described you.”
Spencer shook his head at her. Brett didn’t like the message he witnessed them exchange. They were aligned against him, even though his brother said, “Don’t.”
The warm smile she gave Spencer sent a stabbing dark feeling through Brett that he wasn’t sure how to interpret. When Alisha’s eyes met his again, Brett liked the cold anger he saw in them even less. “I’m sorry. That was rude of me.” Her stress of the word rude sounded like an accusation of its own.
Spencer’s arm went around her waist. “If that’s all you have to say, Brett, you’ve wasted your time and mine. Alisha and I are getting married. I don’t need your help.”
Brett sighed loudly. “We’ll see what you say a week from now when Grandmother retracts the offer. Just don’t do anything hasty.” He ran a hand through his hair.
“Like elope?” Spencer asked as if he were considering it a dare he might accept. He looked down at his fiancée. “What do you say, Alisha? Vegas?”
Alisha shrugged. “Sure.”
“Don’t be an idiot. You don’t have to do this.”
Stepping aw
ay from Alisha, Spencer went nose to nose with Brett. “No, what I don’t have to do is listen to anything else you have to say. I have to invite you to the wedding, but you don’t have to come.” He turned, led Alisha out of the room, and slammed the door behind them.
Brett stood next to his desk, trying to shake off the storm of emotion raging within him. How did every conversation with Spencer end in a standoff?
His office door flew open as Alisha burst back through. With an audacity that took him completely off guard, she poked a finger into his chest and said, “You should be ashamed of yourself. You couldn’t say one nice thing to your brother? If there is a fool in this room, it’s you. Spencer is one hundred times the man you are, but you’re too full of yourself to see it. Are you really trying to prove your grandmother is incompetent? What kind of monster are you?”
Unwelcome desire flooded through him. He caught her hand in his. “You know nothing about me.”
There was a flash of something that looked a hell of a lot like passion in her eyes before she looked away. She tugged her hand free. “Don’t ever touch me.”
“Then keep your pretty little hands to yourself,” he said gruffly.
“Alisha,” Spencer said from the doorway. He rushed to her side. “I thought you were going to the bathroom.”
She glared up at Brett again. “I was, but I couldn’t help myself. I’m done now.”
Her passionate defense of his brother was hotter than hell. Brett’s life was full of women who played by his rules. In general, they were tediously predictable. Alisha certainly wasn’t that.
