Boss Meets Her Match Page 11

  “Yes. They are. But I wanted to know about you.”

  “Nothing to tell. Grew up here. Went to school here. Started my business. And here we are.”

  “I think there’s more to it than that. Where is your family?”

  “At home, I guess.”

  Matt leaned back in the booth. “Oh my God, you are so infuriatingly vague.”

  “I don’t owe you my life story, Mr. Matthews. Just the best of my abilities as your financial manager.”

  “Is that all this is? Financial management?”

  “Of course. Why would you think any differently?”

  He leaned forward on his forearms. “I wouldn’t use the word think. Maybe hope?”

  She narrowed her eyes. This guy was just too much. “Listen up, frat boy...”

  “Okay. Stop. You’re going to have to pick another insulting nickname for me, because, believe it or not, Ms. Reyes, I was never in a fraternity.”

  The little bit of heat in his tone piqued her interest. She’d never heard it before. “Really? Isn’t that like required or something?”

  “It would have been if I’d just gone along with my parents’ plan for my life. But I had my own plans.”

  “I don’t get it.”

  “I was supposed to go to Harvard, Yale, one of the big-name schools. Become a lawyer. Go work for my father’s law firm and end up with a soulless lobbyist job protecting other rich men from having to pay taxes or take responsibility for the damage they do.”

  “That sounds perfectly charming. I can’t imagine why you wouldn’t have jumped at the chance.”

  “When you were in school and college, did you have your family’s approval?”

  She huffed out a laugh. “Approval? It was an expectation.”

  Sally arrived with their meals and Lena murmured a thank-you.

  Matt nodded as he took a bite of the burger and swallowed. “So it’s not too far off base to assume you had your parents’ full support.”

  “You could say that.”

  Her parents, her grandparents, all the aunts and uncles. She never really had a choice.

  “Did they care what you majored in?”

  “No. Honestly, college was so outside their experience, I’m not sure at that time they even knew about majors or how it worked.”

  “My parents cut me off when I said I wanted to study art and art therapy. That’s why it took me six years to get my degree.”

  Lena stared at him. Truly stunned. That a family wouldn’t help a child was unfathomable. She couldn’t even wrap her mind around it.

  “That’s...” she said slowly. “That’s just not right.”

  “Tell me about it. Try to get scholarships or grant money when your parents are filthy rich. I’ve had to pay my way. Got student loans up to my eyeballs.”

  “But you have money now. With the art sales. Your work is going for some pretty steep prices. I’ll have that doubled for you in a year. Maybe less.”

  He shook his head. “Nope. All that money is for the nonprofit. I’ll hold on until I get access to the trust fund. That should pay off my debt.”

  “Plus some,” Lena said.

  “That’s why I wanted you to take me as a client. People say you work magic.”

  Shrugging, Lena hid the smile that his words brought. People asked her how she did it but in truth, she didn’t know. Instinct. Gut feelings. Magic. Didn’t matter what label she put on it, the results were the same.

  “Tell me more about your goals with the nonprofit.”

  “My dream goals or my realistic goals?”

  “Your dream.”

  He wiped his mouth with a napkin. “My dream would be to have art classes restored to every public school. With an art therapy trained teacher. The work at the hospital is amazingly helpful for kids, but there are a lot of kids who need help.”

  “Such as?”

  “When I was doing my training at a public school in Virginia, we discovered one child was being physically abused and another was a victim of sexual abuse. We spotted the signs in the artwork and were able to get the kids out of the environment and get them help.”

  “Wow. Okay. That sounds amazing. What’s your realistic goal?”

  “At least getting into schools with at-risk populations. Community centers like we’re doing at St. Toribio’s.”

  Lena ate her salad in silence. An idea was beginning to come to her. “What are you doing Wednesday?”

  The bad-boy smirk came back and his eyes went from ice blue to smoldering. Reaching out, he touched his fingertips to hers. “Why, Ms. Reyes. Are you asking me out?”

  “No, you conceited trustafarian. I have an idea. Can you have dinner with me and a friend of mine?”

  “I’ll have to check my schedule. Are you sure it’s not a date? I’d clear my schedule for that.”

  “No. You are a client. We will never have a date. We will never have anything more than a polite professional relationship.”

  Matt’s fingers closed lightly around her wrist and turned her hand palm up. Calloused fingertips traced up her inner arm to the elbow and back down. “You say that,” he murmured. “But your eyes are saying something much different.”

  She jerked her arm away, furious at her body’s reaction to his touch. “Last guy who tried that was extremely sorry.”

  “But I’m not that guy.” Before she could answer, he looked at his watch. “I’ve got to go. I’m due at the Children’s Hospital in a few minutes.”

  He pulled his wallet out but Lena waved a hand at him. “We talked business. I can deduct this.”

  “Thank you. Looking forward to seeing you on Wednesday.”

  “Go away now, rich boy. You annoy me.”

  As she finished her salad, she thought about the idea that was forming. This art-therapy stuff would be right up Sadie’s alley. She’d love it. And she needed a new charity to put some money in. The Columbia branch of Sadie’s company, the Cleaning Crew, was up and running at full speed way sooner than expected. They were raking in the money.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  FINALLY, LENA HAD convinced Sadie to come downtown for their dinner. She loved the little spots in Avondale, but the downtown Charleston food scene was exploding. She settled at a table in one of the new hot spots, The Cabin, and looked around. Nicely blended rustic country and the uptown funky chic Upper King Street was developing. And it had easy parking. Sadie hated parking in town.

  The waitress approached her. “Anything while you’re waiting for the rest of your party?”

  “A bottle of chardonnay.”

  Scrolling through her messages while she was waiting, her mood darkened. Sadie time was usually the highlight of her week. Sister time. But Sadie was caught up in wedding planning and she’d be a lot happier about helping out with it if her family would just leave well enough alone. All subtlety had been abandoned. Now she was getting pictures and biographies to which she was supposed to respond with yes, no or maybe. Her mother’s version of not setting up, but “offering choices.” She was working her way through the photos, responding with all nos just out of spite.

  “Oh, dear, sweet granny pants in the morning, is that still going on?”

  She looked over her shoulder at Sadie. “I’m sorry. What did you just say?”

  Sadie slid into a chair, her long hair swinging loose and nearly taking out a wineglass. “I’m trying to quit cussing so much.” Sadie snatched Lena’s phone and began scrolling through the pictures. “Dios mío, Lena, this one. He’s hot. Why’d you say no?”

  “Because.” She took her phone back and placed it facedown on the table. She took a healthy swig of wine.

  “Because. You need to stomp a foot and pout with that face you got going on there.”

 
“I have something to talk to you about.”

  “Good, me too. We’re postponing the wedding.”

  Lena’s stomach dropped to her feet. All her irritation at her family disappeared. “What? Why? Is everything okay?”

  Sadie smiled and reached out to take Lena’s hands. “Yes. Everything is perfect. We just decided December was putting too much pressure on everyone. Especially Jules. She’s had so many upheavals in her life over the last year that even though this is a good change, she needs a little breathing room.”

  Pressing a hand to her chest, Lena let out an audible sigh. “Okay. Makes sense. But don’t scare me like that again. Have you told my mother?”

  The face Sadie made gave her that answer. “No. I’m too afraid to do it alone. I’m going to have to go to a family lunch with you for backup.”

  “That’s a risky proposition. All the family will be there. You sure you don’t just want it to be you and my mom? She’s way more understanding than Las Tias Brujahs.”

  “The aunt whats?”

  “Witch aunts. I have to find some way to get them off my back before I start saying things I regret.”

  The waitress returned and took their orders. Sadie sipped on her wine and eyed Lena thoughtfully. “They aren’t ungrateful, you know.”

  “I know,” Lena said, slumping down in her chair. “It’s just...”

  Sadie sat forward. “I know what you think it is. And I know what they think it is.”

  “So explain it to me please because my brain is so twisted up about this I can’t be rational.”

  “You think it’s because I’m getting married.” Sadie held up a finger to stop the protestations that Lena was forming. “You think they are thinking ‘how did Sadie the hot mess end up with a man before Lena the wonderful princess?’ And it’s okay, Lena. It’s true. I was a screwup. You are the complete package.”

  Her gut churned at the words. “You’re making me sound like a terrible, conceited person.”

  “You aren’t a terrible, conceited person. You are my sister, Lena. I love you. I know you. You know me. We don’t tiptoe around each other. It’s just the simple truth. You made it perfectly clear you wanted the whole deal. Marriage, kids, happily-ever-after. I never expected to find it but it dropped into my lap. I know that you are happy for me. I know that you already love Wyatt as a brother. I know that you are and always will be the coolest aunt Jules will ever have. It’s okay if you aren’t one hundred percent rainbows and sunshine about it.”

  Tears stung at her eyes as she blindly groped for Sadie’s hand. The strong squeeze reassured her. Sadie was right. They were more than friends. They were sisters. And they told the truth, even when it was not so pretty and hurt like hell.

  “That’s you. Now your family. All this ‘find Lena a husband’ stuff is their way of trying to thank you. To help you out the way you helped the family out. They respect and appreciate all the work you’ve done for them. Helping you find love and happiness after all your dedication is just their way of trying to pay it back.”

  “Argh,” Lena groaned, dropping her head down into her hands. “I am a terrible, horrible person. That’s what my mother said too, but I didn’t believe her. I was so mad at them at the time I didn’t try to understand.”

  “Suck it up, buttercup. That’s why you keep me around. You are a person in need of a good strong kick in the ass on a frequent basis.”

  “You’ve got room to talk, Miss I-don’t-need-anything-from-anyone.”

  Sadie lifted her glass. “To sister truth.”

  “Sister truth.”

  They clinked and drank. “Wonder if they have fireball shots here?”

  Sadie groaned. “No. I’ve never been so hungover in my life.”

  As Lena laughed, Sadie’s gaze moved to the door. The cool, professional appraisal Lena saw in her eyes made her glance over her shoulder. Matt was here.

  “Holy Viking Raiding Party,” Sadie murmured.

  “That’s Matt. He’s joining us.”

  Lena hadn’t planned to hold back that information just to see the look on Sadie’s face, but she was now happy that she did. Sadie’s gaze swiveled back to Lena. A million questions swirled in her eyes. Lena turned and waved at Matt.

  “Are you dating him?” Sadie whispered as he approached.

  Lena made a face. “Un gringo? Con mi familia?”

  Sadie pushed out a chair with her foot as Matt reached the table. “Matt. Have a seat. I’m Sadie. Would you like a job?”

  Matt held out a hand and as Sadie put hers in his, he lifted it for a courtly kiss. “I’m always interested in a job.”

  “For Pete’s sake, sit down and stop being weird,” Lena told Matt.

  He sat in the chair and pinned her with the twinkle in those blue eyes. “It’s called being a gentleman, Ms. Reyes.”

  Sadie shifted her gaze between the two of them and grinned. Lena gave her a murderous glare that made Sadie cover her mouth.

  “He couldn’t work for you anyway, Sadie,” Lena said prissily. “He’d fail all the testing. He’s a hound dog.”

  Matt put a hand to his chest. “Only for you, my elusive Ms. Reyes.”

  Sadie did laugh out loud at the outrageous foppery. Lena scowled. “See. He’s an unrepentant hound dog.”

  “And you want to love it but you refuse on general principle,” Matt said with a grin. He turned his attention to Sadie. “What sort of job are we talking about?”

  “I run a cleaning company.”

  “All her maids are good-looking guys,” Lena explained.

  “Okay. I’m flattered. Tell me more.”

  “She’s not giving you a job. I wanted you to tell her about your nonprofit.”

  Matt looked back at Sadie. “As an interested investor?”

  Sadie sipped her wine. “Benefactor is more my style. Lena does my investing for me.”

  “It’s for kids, Sadie. Underprivileged. Poorly served communities. Art therapy.”

  Sadie held up a finger. “Okay. She had me at kids. Tell me more about how art therapy works.”

  Lena sat back and watched. It was truly remarkable. As Matt began talking, all pretense fell away. He wasn’t the trust-fund kid. He wasn’t the smart-ass flirt. He had a real passion for helping kids. Watching Sadie’s reaction made her smile. She’d spent her entire life being shipped from foster home to foster home before ending up alone on the street at eighteen. Anything that would help a kid avoid or deal with the emotional scars of a traumatic or chaotic childhood, she would be fully on board.

  “Stop,” Sadie said after listening for about five minutes. She looked at Lena. “Match whatever he has now. Set up a monthly contribution.”

  “Seriously?” Matt said. “You’re serious?”

  “I never joke about children, Matt. Happy to help.”

  He looked at Lena, his mouth still hanging open. She reached out and pushed up on his bristly chin with a finger. “Yes. She’s serious. How much, Sades?”

  Sadie shrugged. “Pick a number. That’s what I pay you for.”

  Their food arrived. “Order something,” Sadie said. “I’m buying.”

  “I’d love to, but I’ve got to go to the wine-and-paint thing. Thank you again, so much for your support, Sadie. It’s beyond generous.”

  Sadie stood as Matt did, ignoring his outstretched hand and giving him a hug. Lena stared at the spectacle. When had Sadie become a hugger?

  “Not generous at all,” Sadie said. “Just doing what I can, where I can.”

  After Matt left, Sadie sat down and pinned Lena with a hard stare. She tried to ignore it but when Sadie threw a French fry at her, she put her fork down. “What?”

  “What? You dragged a Norse god in here that would make Wyatt look like the backside of a baboon and
he’s flirting his ass off with you. Clearly very interested, and you ask me ‘what?’” She fanned herself with a napkin. “Those eyes! That smirky little grin. I would have clients throwing money at me for him to clean their houses.”

  Lena shook her head. “All the time you were lusting over Wyatt, all I heard was ‘he’s an employee, wah wah wah, I don’t mess with employees.’ Same deal. He’s a client. The end. The only reason I asked him here was to meet you because I knew you’d jump at the chance to donate to his nonprofit and you need more tax shelters. This was all business.”

  “Oh. All business. Uh-huh. You might have the rest of the world fooled, Magdalena Teresa Reyes, but you don’t fool me one bit. No, ma’am. You get this look in your eyes when you are contemplating all the dirty, dirty things you’d like to do to a man. And it was right there, clear as if you’d started stripping at the table.”

  Lena felt her face go hot. Sadie was right. She took a sip of wine and shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. Yes, he’s hot as homemade sin but that doesn’t change the fact that he is a client. I don’t sleep with my money. That’s a potential disaster. Besides, can you imagine me bringing a white man home in the middle of this Hispanic Bachelor audition crap?”

  “Yeah, what’s up with that? I didn’t think your parents really cared. Several of your cousins have interracial marriages, right?”

  “Well. Sort of. Hannah’s husband is half-black, half–Puerto Rican. And Tomas’s wife is Japanese. No one has married a white person. It’s my parents’ generation. It’s how they think.”

  “You know what I think? I think if you brought home a great guy who loves you, they won’t even care what color he is.”

  “If you say so, but that guy is the Charles Beaumont Matthews the freaking Fifth we talked about.”

  “Shut the front door!” Sadie put down her wineglass and stared, openmouthed, at Lena. “That’s him?”

  “Trust fund from Granny and everything.”

  “Huh. I would never have guessed that was him. Didn’t pick up a hint of money.”

  “Yeah, he hides it. Pretends he’s turned his back on his family and is making his own way in the world.”