Page 58 of Last Resort

“Some very thorough negotiations, indeed.”

How can he look at me with such a measured, aloof expression when I can’t even look him straight in the eyes without picturing him looking up at me from between my thighs the other night? In the office a few feet away, no less.

“Yes. Very.”

“Well, the activities and the amenities are the easy part. You won on that round. Now we need to get to the hard part. Staff benefits, budget projections for salaries, and the costs for updating the décor.”

“Yes, sir,” I say. “Brady and I were just discussing that before you walked in.”

“We were,” Brady says with a nod.

“Good to see that you two are working well together,” Callahan murmurs. “I also think it would be a nice touch to have homemade brownies delivered to every guest’s room upon arrival as a welcome gift.”

I all but choke on the sip of coffee I just took. “Brownies?”

He smirks when his eyes meet mine. “Yes. Brownies.” He looks from Brady to me and then back. “Think of it as, what do they call it? Brownie points, if you will, for choosing to stay here.”

“Brownie points?” Brady repeats.

“Exactly.” A stoic nod of Callahan’s head. “Keep up the good work. Carry on.”

He walks out of the office like he does every afternoon to get a late workout in before heading to meetings or falling asleep on the chair in the villa with his laptop on his knees and spreadsheets fanned out across the table.

Staring at the door he just left through, I can’t help but come to the realization that it’s even harder to resist him than I originally thought.

I just have to keep reminding myself I don’t care about him. Not his hard work or dedication here. Not the faraway look he gets in his eyes every once in a while when someone mentions his father. Not the raised voices I hear behind closed doors when a call from one of his brothers comes in.

And definitely not the fact that he keeps trying to answer my question when it’s unanswerable to begin with.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Callahan

Ten Months Ago

“Can you please give us a moment?” I look up at Gil Diamante and his daughter Gia who are sitting at the table with us.

“For?” Gil asks.

“I need to speak with my father for a few moments,” I say.

“Is something wrong?” Gia asks, those eyes of hers skimming over me suggestively.

“Nothing is wrong. We just need to discuss several points in private for a few moments,” I explain.

“We’ll find a place at the bar. You can find us there when you’re finished.” Gil stands up and pushes his chair in. “But don’t keep us waiting long. I’m not a patient man, Mr. Sharpe.”

I nod and then watch them move through the restaurant. The soft sounds of silverware on plates and muted conversation can be heard all around us.

My dad stares out the window of the restaurant to the twinkling lights of the city below us.

Everything about this feels wrong to me. The Diamantes. The meeting. The contract.

My dad.

“I know they brought the contract to try and salvage the deal, Dad, but we’re sticking to our decision from earlier,” I say, mentioning the meeting we had earlier with my brothers. “We’re not signing it.”

“Last I checked, I was the majority owner of this company.” His smile holds no amusement when he offers it to me. It doesn’t make what I have to do any easier.