“Shouldn’t I be?”
“I suppose it’s only natural.” She blew a little sigh out the side of her mouth. He wasn’t going to be an easy man to win over. And oddly enough, that made him all the more appealing.
“Just to be clear,” he said, “the Fortunes are experts at recognizing impostors and gold diggers.”
“No doubt they are, but I can assure you, some people don’t need a famous name to be successful. If you’re smart and the cards are in your favor, you can make it to the top. And my father is as smart as they come. He’s lucky, too. A real King Midas. He parlayed a winning lottery ticket into real estate, and his investments paid off. He now lives in the most exclusive area of Houston and owns an agency in a downtown high-rise, with branches in Austin and San Antonio.”
“Fortunado Real Estate?”
“That’s us. So, you see, we don’t need the Fortunes’ money.”
Before Carlo could answer, Alfonso stopped by the table with a basket of bread, olive oil and balsamic. Then he took their orders.
When they were alone again, Carlo picked up the conversation where they’d left off. “If your family has plenty of money, why the interest in the Fortunes?”
“Actually, my father and most of my siblings aren’t interested in forging a connection. At least, that’s what they told me.” She reached into the basket, removed a warm slice of bread and tore off one side of the crust. “I suspect they’re curious, but they’re not sure about making any changes to our family dynamics.”
“And you’re not concerned about that?”
Schuyler wouldn’t mind seeing a slight shift in the Fortunado family dynamics. For one thing, she’d like to see artistic expression valued as much as an advanced degree or a head for business.
“I’m more open-minded than the other Fortunados,” she said. “So I decided to check out the Fortunes for myself.”
Carlo studied her once again, as if he still couldn’t buy her story. She lifted her wineglass and took a drink. Dang, it was good. No wonder those chefs had been impressed.
“Believe it or not,” Schuyler said, “I’m as honest as the day is long.”
“Except when you hold back information.”
“Well, that’s true.” She popped the crust into her mouth. Mmm. Homemade and fresh from the oven.
“It seems to me,” Carlo said, “that you’d be better off talking to Ariana Lamonte, who wrote those articles and blogs for Weird Life magazine about the Fortunes.”
“I already did.” Apparently, he didn’t realize she’d done her homework. “Her articles actually convinced me that my suspicion was right and triggered my quest. And by the way, in case you didn’t know, her last name is Fortune now. She married Jayden Fortune from Paseo, Texas.”
“So your visit to the Mendoza Winery Distribution Center was plan B?”
“I hope that doesn’t hurt your feelings.”
At that, he laughed. “I’m just on the periphery of the Fortune family, but I can get you an introduction if you’d like one.”
“That’s great. And I promise that I’ll watch from the outside. I don’t mean them any harm. Think of me as an investigative reporter.”
“And a damn pretty one at that.”
Now, that was an interesting way to toss out a compliment. But then again, with the way he looked and his sexy style, it was easy to see Carlo had plenty of practice—no doubt from a string of sexual conquests over the years.
“Ariana can probably provide you with a better introduction to the Fortune family than I can,” Carlo said.
“You’re right. And once she and her hubby get back home in a few weeks, I plan to talk to her about doing that.”
He scrunched his brow, creating a crease in his forehead, but it didn’t mar his gorgeous face in the least. “Where are they?”
“They’re out of town while she researches a new book about people who embody the Texas spirit.”
Before Carlo could respond, his cell phone rang again. He glanced at the screen. “Believe it or not, I’m not usually a rude dinner companion, but I need to take this call. If you’ll excuse me, I’ll step outside and answer it. But I’ll make it quick.”
She nodded. Like Daddy had taught her since she was old enough to join the family at the dining room table, business always came first.
Once, when Schuyler was in high school, a friend called her while they were having dinner. Her father threatened to take away her cell phone if she answered. Yet two minutes later, he got a call and took it. When he finished talking, she pointed out the inconsistency, which made him angry. He lifted his finger and shook it at her. Here’s the rule in this family, Schuyler. When a phone call earns money, you answer it.
Moments later, Carlo returned to the table. He’d no more than taken a seat when he leaned forward and zeroed in on her like a con man who’d found his mark. “I have a proposition for you. I need your help again, and I’ll do whatever you want if you agree.”
Schuyler raised her eyebrows. “Whatever I want? Just what would this job entail?”
“Now who’s being skeptical?” Carlo laughed. “There isn’t anything unsavory about it. I need someone to represent the Mendoza brand at another special tasting. You just have to do the same thing you did this evening. Pour wine and get people to drink it—and hopefully buy it. I’ll pay you well for your time.”
“I told you before. This isn’t about the money. I don’t have to work a day in my life unless I want to.”
And if truth be told, she wanted to hostess again for Carlo.
“So what do you say?” he asked.
She was always up for an adventure. So she reached across the table to shake his hand and seal the deal. “It’ll be a pleasure doing business with you.”
* * *
In spite of his better judgment, Carlo had been listening to Schuyler half in amusement, half in curiosity. But things got serious the moment he took her hand and felt the unexpected strength of her small grip, the softness of her skin and the heat of her touch. Desire slammed into him, nearly taking him out at the knees.
He tried to play it cool, to hide his sexual attraction, but he’d never met a woman like her before. And he probably never would again.
Granted, he’d been skeptical of her the moment he’d learned the temp agency hadn’t sent her and she’d let him believe that they had. In some ways, he supposed he was still a bit leery, but she seemed sincere.
She was also gorgeous and as intriguing as hell. Besides, she was the best hostess they’d had yet. And she was damn good for business. Bottom line? He was going to take a gamble and believe her story.
“The next tasting is on Thursday evening,” he said. “Are you available to work that night?”
“Three days from now?” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, revealing a good-size diamond stud. “Sure. I’ll be in town for a while.”
She didn’t say how long she intended to stay, and even though he was growing more and more curious about her plans, he didn’t ask. “Thanks for being flexible,” he said.
“Hey. That’s practically my middle name.” She flashed him a dazzling smile, then leaned forward. “So tell me about this ‘special’ tasting.”
“There’s going to be another convention in town. This one is for a group of software execs. So I called the people in charge and set up a special preconference