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My mood was sour as could be, but I was attempting to go with the messed-up flow of my day. Luca and I were in the middle of a video conference while I flew to Utah to deal with a mess at one of our factories.
The joy of having a Rossi jet meant I could fly in and out during work hours without Nellie being any the wiser. That didn’t mean I was happy about having to take this trip.
“Give Greg my salutations when you see him,” Luca teased.
I held up my middle finger. “Is this what you mean by salutations?”
“Now, now, Clara. Is that how a representative of the Rossi family behaves?”
I rolled my eyes. “As if you haven’t been pictured stumbling out of clubs with a different model every night.”
“Pffft. That was years ago—before Saoirse. You can’t hold me accountable for anything I did in my twenties.”
Back in the day, my brother had been a star of the gossip rags, so it was funny for him to now care about the Rossi image, even in the context of a joke. We both knew I wasn’t going to be flipping anyone off but him. The image of our family’s company was safe for another day.
“How convenient.” I clicked on my inbox, horrified by how many emails I had to get through. “Is there anything else we need to discuss? I am going to need the rest of this flight to make a dent in my inbox.”
He exhaled and shifted around as if uncomfortable. “Actually, yes. One of the emails is the preliminary financial report for Motor Zone.”
“Oh?” If he was about to give me bad news, I understood his discomfort. “Are they not doing well?”
“I’m still going over it, but there was something that stood out to me. Up until last year, the company had been divided between Jeremy, Jake, their father, and a few family members. Grandpa Hayes left Jeremy fifty-one percent and scattered the rest around the family.”
“Okay. What happened last year?”
“Jeremy sold ten percent of his shares to an investor—Roman Wells. It obviously brought in a huge flux of cash.”
I sucked in air between my teeth. I recognized that name. Roman Wells had a reputation for sweeping in, investing in failing companies, then riding away with his profits once he turned it around—or sold his shares off to the highest bidder.
“Okay. How is the company doing overall?”
“The year before, they closed a hundred stores, but seem to have stabilized since Roman was brought in. It’ll be interesting to see the reports from this fiscal year.”
I chewed on my bottom lip, mindlessly clicking the end of my pen. “Are you considering backing out of the deal?”
He paused. “I’m not there yet. What do you think?”
I measured my answer carefully. Up until now, I’d been able to mentally separate my relationship from this potential business partnership, but now I found myself thinking about how my answer would impact Jake. “I’m not sure I should be the deciding factor. There’s no way I can give an impartial answer here.”
He raised his brows. “Are you recusing yourself?”
“This isn’t a jury selection.” I huffed a laugh. “But yes, I suppose I am. Keep me informed, but I’d rather not be one of the decision-makers unless absolutely necessary.”
He nodded. “Second-guessing mixing business with pleasure?”
“No, I'm not.”
That made him smile. “Wow. I’m all sorts of happy about that answer. Saoirse and I should have you two over for dinner soon.” He pointed at me through the screen. “Not this weekend, though. I’m cutting out after lunch to head to the ranch for her nephew’s birthday.”
“Is he taller than you yet?”
He made a disgruntled sound. “He’s getting close. I don’t know what they feed their kids up in Wyoming. There’s no reason an eight-year-old should be five and a half feet tall. No reason at all.”
I laughed. “Don’t get in fights with children.”
“I won’t if you promise to be nice to Greg.”
That wiped away my smile in one swoop. I couldn’t make any such promises. “Bye, Luca.”
