A Groom Worth Waiting For

Thea looked away. ‘You need to stop talking about my wedding like this.’

‘Why? It’s business, isn’t it?’

‘It’s also my future. The rest of my life—and my children’s.’ That shut him up for a moment, unexpectedly. Thea took advantage of the brief silence to bring the conversation back round to the question he’d so neatly avoided. ‘So, you didn’t tell me. Why start up another new business?’

Zeke settled back in his chair, the thin stem of his wine glass resting between his fingers. ‘I guess it’s the challenge. The chance to take something that doesn’t even exist yet, build it up and make it fantastic. Make it mine.’

It sounded exciting. Fresh and fun and everything else Zeke seemed to think it would be. But it also sounded to Thea as if Zeke was reaching for something more than just a successful business venture. Something he might never be able to touch, however hard he tried.

‘You want to be a success,’ she said slowly. ‘But, Zeke, you’ve already succeeded. And you still want more. How will you know when you’ve done enough?’

Zeke turned to look at her, his dark eyes more serious than she’d ever seen them. ‘I’ll know it when I get there.’

But Thea was very afraid that he wouldn’t.

CHAPTER THREE (#ulink_5b1e2d87-b68d-51fc-b0d0-91d856a364fd)

SO NOW HE KNEW. Had Thea told his dad about the rumours, Zeke wondered, or had the old goat had his own spies on the lookout? Either way, his presence in Italy that week suddenly made a lot more sense. Ezekiel Senior wanted This Minute.

And Zeke had absolutely no intention of giving it to him.

As the rest of the guests enjoyed their dessert Zeke left his spoon on the tablecloth and studied his father across the table. How would he couch it? Would he make it sound as if he was doing Zeke a favour? Or would he—heaven forbid—actually admit that Zeke had achieved something pretty great without the backing of Morrison-Ashton? He’d have to wait to find out.

After dinner, Zeke decided. That would be when his father would finally acknowledge the presence of his youngest son. Probably he’d be summoned to the study. But this time he’d get to go on his own terms. For once Ezekiel wanted something he, Zeke, possessed, rather than the other way round.

That, on its own, made it worth travelling to Flynn and Thea’s wedding.

Zeke only realised he was smiling when Flynn suddenly looked up and caught his eye. Zeke widened his grin, raising an eyebrow at his brother. So, had dear old dad just broken the news to the golden boy? And did that mean Thea hadn’t told her beloved about the rumours she’d heard?

Flynn glanced away again, and Zeke reached for his spoon. ‘You didn’t tell Flynn, then?’

Thea’s dropped her spoon against the edge of her bowl with a clatter. ‘Tell Flynn what?’ she asked, eyes wide.

Interesting. ‘Well, I meant about the This Minute sale,’ he said. ‘But now I’m wondering what else you’ve been keeping from your fiancé.’

Thea rolled her eyes, but it was too late. He’d already seen her instinctive reaction. She was keeping things from Flynn. Zeke had absolutely no doubt at all.

‘I didn’t tell Flynn about the sale because it doesn’t directly affect him and it’s still only a rumour. If your father decides to make a bid for the company I’m sure he’ll fill Flynn in at the appropriate time.’ Thea looked up at him through her lashes. ‘Besides, we don’t talk about you.’

‘At all?’ That hit him somewhere in the middle of his gut and hit hard. Not that he’d been imagining them sitting around the dining table reminiscing about the good old days when Zeke had been there, or anything. But still, despite his initial misgivings over them talking about him in his absence, he thought this might be worse. They didn’t talk about him at all?

‘Apart from Flynn telling me you weren’t coming to the wedding? No.’ Thea shrugged. ‘What would we say? You left.’

And she’d forgotten all about him. Point made. With a sharp jab to the heart.

But of course if they didn’t talk about him... ‘So you never told Flynn about us, either?’

She didn’t look up from her dessert as she answered. ‘Why would I? The past is very firmly in the past. And I had no reason to think you would ever come back at all.’

‘And now?’

Raising her head, she met his gaze head-on. ‘And now there’s simply nothing to say.’

‘Zeke.’

The voice sounded a little creakier, but no less familiar. Tearing his gaze away from Thea’s face, Zeke turned to see his father standing, waiting for him.

‘I’d like a word with you in my office, if you would. After eight years...we have a lot to discuss.’

They had one thing to discuss, as far as Zeke was concerned. But he went anyway. How else would he have the pleasure of turning the old man down?

* * *

Ezekiel had chosen a large room at the front of the villa for his office—one Zeke imagined was more usually used for drinks and canapés than for business. The oversized desk in the centre had to have been brought in from elsewhere in the house, because it looked utterly out of place.

Zeke considered the obvious visitor’s chair, placed across from it, and settled himself into a leather armchair by the empty fireplace instead. He wasn’t a naughty child any more, and that meant he didn’t have to stare at his father over a forbidding desk, waiting for judgement to be handed down, ever again.

‘Sit,’ Ezekiel said, long after Zeke had already done so. ‘Whisky or brandy?’

‘I’d rather get straight down to business,’ Zeke said.

‘As you wish.’ Ezekiel moved towards the drinks cabinet and poured himself a whisky anyway. Zeke resisted the urge to grind his teeth.

Finally, his father came and settled himself into the armchair opposite, placing his glass on the table between them. ‘So. You’re selling your business.’

‘So the rumour mill tells me,’ Zeke replied, leaning back in his chair and resting his ankle on his opposite knee.

‘I heard more than rumour,’ Ezekiel said. ‘I heard you were in negotiations with Glasshouse.’

Zeke’s shoulders stiffened. Nobody knew that, except Deb and him at the office, the CEO at Glasshouse and his key team. Which meant one or other of them had a leak. Just what he didn’t need.

‘It’s true, then.’ Ezekiel shook his head. ‘Our biggest competitors, Zeke. Why didn’t you just come to me directly? Or is this just another way of trying to get my attention?’

Zeke will never stop trying to best his brother. The words, eight years old, still echoed through Zeke’s head, however hard he tried to move past them. But he didn’t have time for the memory now.

‘I haven’t needed your attention for the last eight years, Father. I don’t need it now.’

‘Really?’ Ezekiel reached for his whisky glass. ‘Are you sure? Because you could have gone anywhere, done anything. Yet you stayed in the country and set up a company that directly competed with the family business.’

‘I stuck to what I knew,’ Zeke countered. Because, okay, annoying his father might have been part of his motivation. But only part.

Ezekiel gave him a long, steady look, and when Zeke didn’t flinch said, ‘Hmm...’

Zeke waited. Time to make the offer, old man.

‘I’m sure that you understand that to have my son working with Glasshouse is...unacceptable. But we can fix this. Come work with us. We’ll pay whatever Glasshouse is paying and you can run your little company under the Morrison-Ashton umbrella. In fact, you could lead our whole digital division.’

Somewhere in there, under the ‘let me fix your mistakes’ vibe, was an actual job offer. A good one. Head of Digital... There was a lot Zeke could do there to bring Morrison-Ashton into the twenty-first century. It would give him enough clout in the company in order not to feel as if Flynn was his boss. And he would be working with Thea every day...