This time, he was sure Fernsby had rolled his eyes. With Rolly, it was hard to tell. His facial expressions were the most minute Troy had ever seen.
Then Fernsby said, “But, sir, as I recall, you asked her to set up another date for you. Was that more of you pursuing your goal of making her jealous?” He arched an eyebrow.
Troy shrugged—answer enough.
Fernsby didn’t let up. “You had dinner with Michaela after the book signing. Did you make any progress at all?”
“That’s when I learned all this incredible stuff about her.” Troy couldn’t help defending himself. “I call that some sort of progress.”
Then Ransom asked—why did he have to speak up now?—with a slight smirk on his lips, “Did you ask her why she doesn’t date billionaires?”
Once again, Troy could only tell the truth. “The timing wasn’t right.” In another defensive move, he added, “Is it ever right to ask a question like that?”
He was gratified that his family all seemed to nod in agreement with him. Then he burst out with his final coup. “That’s when I decided to ask her to help me find a yacht to buy.”
Clay thrust his hands in the air, but all he said was, “Dude.”
Dane asked the sensible question. “What do you want a yacht for?”
“It’s a party boat. For all of us. With a hundred and fifty feet, we can do a lot of partying.”
Ava shook her head sadly, as if he was the biggest buffoon she’d ever met. “You are so bad at this. At thirty-five years old, do you still know nothing about women? You have to woo her. Romance her.”
He wasn’t the romancing type. He’d never had to romance a woman before, but he couldn’t say that. “How do I do that when she adamantly will not?—”
Gabby cut him off. “Fall for your usual bullcrap?”
There was no hope for it. They were right. Troy could only shrug. “I guess so.”
Ava tapped the top of her head as if she were putting on her thinking cap. “Okay, romance. Find out what her favorite movie is, then watch it with her, and tell her it’s the most amazing story you’ve ever seen.” She made a face. “Even if you have to lie.”
Then she leaned in to kiss Ransom, and it was no peck on the cheek, but a full-on, open-mouthed kiss.
The rest of his siblings were not to be outdone. “You can borrow my sports car,” Clay offered, “and take her for a drive down the coast.”
Dane posed, “Why don’t you fly her to my private island? Fernsby will send you off with the tastiest treats.” He winked at Fernsby.
Good God. Another eye roll? Troy still couldn’t be sure. And yet Fernsby nodded ever so slightly.
Troy wasn’t sure he liked any of those ideas. He shot a glare at Gabby, who’d gotten him into this whole thing in the first place. “You’re pretty quiet, dear sister. Aren’t you going to give me any ideas?”
She grinned like the cat that ate the cream. No, wait, many cats were actually lactose intolerant. Gabby was more like Cinderella’s wicked stepsister who’d cut off her toes so her foot would fit in the glass slipper.
“I’m trying to figure out what charity I want you to give that million dollars to,” she said with a mischievous sparkle in her eyes.
Holy heck, she was right. It didn’t even bother him to finally realize he was falling for Michaela. “Yeah, you’d better do that,” he admitted. He wouldn’t miss that million dollars one bit.
But he couldn’t let his siblings get the better of him, and he let his gaze flare across them all. “All right, peanut gallery. Thanks for the vote of confidence you did not give me. All your ideas completely suck.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “I’ll come up with my own.”
He might just buy a yacht for her.
The moment he left the mastermind, his phone blew up with texts from the family, all of them saying the same thing: Tell all about the book signing.
He’d already decided it wasn’t right to share Fernsby’s secrets. The only answer he could give was: Nothing to tell. It was just a book signing.
Besides, he had other things to deal with. Because once he’d made that declaration about Michaela to the Harrington family, he’d better follow through.
If I can’t win Michaela, I will never hear the end of it. Ever.
