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Her gaze swept over mine, but it was unreadable in this fucking lighting. I’d have to speak to Jeremy about the location of his business dinners. Candlelight did not make good company when trying to get a bead on an associate or potential partner.
Business partner.
She slipped her soft hand into mine, squeezing it firmly. “Jake.”
How she’d made Jake sound like, “fuck off,” I had no idea, but she’d managed it. It made me want to toss her over my lap and spank the sass out of her. Instead, I did what was right and let go of her hand.
Jeremy naturally took the seat beside Luca, putting me across from Clara. She made sure not to look at me again. Not when I spoke. Not when I ordered. Not when I accidentally bumped my foot against hers beneath the table.
“So, Jake,” Luca began, gaining my attention, “how did you get your start as a mechanic?”
It wasn’t natural for me to talk about myself. Not with people I was close to, and especially not with those I barely knew. But this was part of the game, becoming friendly with the Rossis so they’d come to see us as trustworthy.
“Grew up on a ranch and something always needed fixing. When I got tired of waiting around for someone else to do it, I taught myself.”
Luca’s brow dropped, and he leaned forward, intrigued. “You grew up on a ranch?” He glanced at Jeremy. “And you grew up in the city?”
“We have different moms,” I explained. If anyone did the math on our ages or our dad’s marriage, they’d know he’d stepped out on his vows and I’d been the product of his weakness. It wasn’t my favorite topic, but I’d shucked the yoke of shame a long time ago. Dear ol’ dad’s misdeeds were not mine.
Jeremy hadn’t gotten to my stage of enlightenment yet. Then again, he cared a lot more about others' opinions. Sitting next to him, I felt his discomfort, so I pressed on the gas, moving us right past my being Johnathon Hayes’s bastard son.
“Jer spent summers with me on the ranch. He’s been known to change a battery or two in his day.”
Jeremy chuckled, disguising every bit of his unease. “It’s been a while, but I think I still have it.”
Luca held up his hands. “That’s about all I know how to do.” He returned his attention to me. “Do you get to weld when working on vehicles?”
I shook my head. “Not these days. But like I said, back on the ranch, I taught myself how to fix things that needed fixing, so welding wasn’t out of the question.”
The lawyer beside Clara spoke up. “Are you still making those steel mobiles, Luca?”
“I am,” he replied. “I don’t have as much time to devote to art as I’d like, but I find a way.”
Clara’s shoulder pressed against the lawyer’s. “You should see the fixture hanging in my entry. Luca made it custom for the space. It looks like the weeping willow we used to lie under when we were kids, staring up at the leaves and branches. It’s stunning.”
Lawyer Boy rotated toward her and lowered his voice. “I’d love to see it sometime.”
“Maybe you will,” she practically breathed back.
“I’d like to see it too,” I replied more sharply than intended. “I bet you have a picture. We can all see.”
Clara didn’t look at me, but waves of annoyance blasted in my direction. Yeah, she was not liking me tonight, but I wasn’t particularly enjoying watching her flirt with the suit next to her either.
She turned her attention on me, her haughtiness on full blast. “I don’t think I do.”
“Too bad.” I prodded her foot, and she quickly jerked it away. Her inattention was driving me mad, forcing me to resort to childish games. I liked playing with her, but not like this. “Luca probably does.”
“Uh, yes,” Luca answered, “I probably do. However, I don’t like to take my phone out during dinner. Why don’t I email it to you later?”
Jeremy elbowed my side hard, but I couldn’t stop myself from throwing one final jab. “That'd be great. Maybe email him too”—I jerked my chin toward the lawyer—“so he doesn’t have to go out of his way to Clara’s house.”
Luca’s gaze pinched, his eyes going between me and Clara. I kept my expression as impassive as I could while Clara laid her hand on the lawyer’s forearm and murmured too softly for me to hear.
Jeremy swooped in, saving the situation. “Luca, I hear your wife rides horses.” Luca nodded, confirming this. “My wife, Anne, grew up riding in England. She’s still getting used to riding western style. Maybe they can meet up and Saoirse can give Anne some pointers.”
The rest of the night, Jeremy kept the topic of conversation firmly in his grasp, barely allowing me to speak unless answering a direct question. That was fine by me. If I was honest, it wasn’t too far off from our usual dynamic. Jer talked, I listened.
Tonight, I wasn’t doing much listening either. I was too distracted by the pinhole of light streaming between Clara’s arm and the lawyer’s. He couldn’t have been out of his twenties and, how stunning she was in all black, looked seconds away from coming in his pants. If she was trying to convey a message to me, she was torturing the man beside her at the same time.
