Arrangement With A Billionaire (Bad Boy Billionaire Brothers #1) (30 page)

This was messier than Isla thought. If it had been anything like one of Jane’s romance novels, everything would be tied up nice and neatly in a clean bow for the happy ending.

That wasn’t going to happen. Some wounds stuck around for a long time.

She clenched her hands on the table. “I don’t know much about you or your family, so I know you’re going to take what I have to say with a whole lot of salt.” Not just a grain of it.

Sebastian grinned. “All right, let me listen to you defend my brothers, and then I’ll go. I guess it’s the least I can do for interrupting your coffee.”

Isla nodded, knowing she had to proceed gently. “Whenever I was in that house, no one ever really had any bad words to say about you. I didn’t even know about that thing with your stepmother until you just mentioned it.”

Sebastian made a face. “Great.”

“No, really, hear me out. If Arturo and Silvio hated you that much, they would’ve talked about what a horrible woman abuser you are or something.”

Isla looked around when those words left her mouth, making absolutely sure no one could hear her. So far, no one seemed to be paying attention to the conversation, which was good. She knew perfectly well how just the tiniest accusation of something like that could ruin a man, innocent or not.

“I
believe
you when you say things were bad, and I honestly think you were justified. You have the right to defend yourself and your little brother, no matter who the attacker is. Sounds like she wasn’t all that hurt anyway. If you think I’m going to judge you for that, then you’re wrong.”

“Arturo and Silvio do,” Sebastian said.

Did that imply he cared what they thought? Or was she just projecting?

Isla shook her head. “I don’t think they do. To be honest, what little Arturo has said about his mother hasn’t exactly been the best.”

Sebastian lifted both brows.

“I mean, he talks about her like he misses her, but that’s his mother, you know? Other than that, he has said a couple of things that weren’t exactly…flattering.”

She hadn’t noticed it before, and had assumed Arturo was still angry and bitter, but looking back, when he’d explained why his father had killed his mother, because he
didn’t want to pay her child support for us, or alimony for the rest of her life
…

Well…words like that didn’t suggest Arturo’s mother had been the sort to walk away with grace, especially when her two children were nearly fully grown. Looking back, something about the way he’d said those words, as though implicating his mother of greed, of being the sort of women who would fight for those things in court, regardless of whether she needed them, had suddenly seemed obvious.

It wasn’t an excuse for what happened to her, but some more things were now clear.

“Arturo and Silvio treat Orlando well. I think they just…had to grow up, get older and realize for themselves what was happening. And Orlando has never said anything bad about you either, aside from the fact that you’re angry. I think Arturo and Silvio did grow up since all that happened. I think they want you to be their brother.”

She didn’t know what else to say. Her words already had virtually no impact if the look on Sebastian’s face was anything to go by.

But then he nodded. “Thanks for the chat. It was…educational.”

He got up from his seat.

“Will you call them?” Isla asked. It wasn’t like it was remotely any of her business, but she wanted Sebastian to feel better, even if it was for selfish reasons, like for the sake of Arturo and the happy ending she always wanted at the end of the story.

Sebastian barely glanced down at her. “Are you going to call Arturo?”

Isla’s breath caught, and she looked down at her sketchbook. Heat flushed her cheeks.

“That’s your answer,” Sebastian said. “Good luck with the business, Isla. It was nice meeting you.”

He walked away.

I
sla sat there
in her chair for a long while after Sebastian left. She just stared down at her sketchbook, hardly able to move.

What Sebastian had said got her thinking. Why
shouldn’t
she call Arturo? Why shouldn’t she make the first move?

It wasn’t like she would be doing anything wrong if she did call him. At the very least, it could buy her some closure if he said he didn’t want to meet with her.

How could she hope to give Arturo, Orlando, Silvio, or even Sebastian any hope of closure if she couldn’t give it to herself?

And okay, yeah, she was trying to find some noble angle to give in to what she was thinking about doing. It was an excuse, but she was rolling with it. She did want Sebastian to contact Arturo and Silvio, but if
she
couldn’t do it when she was suffering from a broken heart, how could she expect Sebastian to when he had years of turmoil and bitterness under his belt?

Isla pulled out her phone and opened her contacts list. She stared at Arturo’s number. It felt like it was the first time she’d looked at it in weeks.

It kind of was. She’d thought she was getting over him, but that conversation with Sebastian had brought everything all back, and now, staring at his name and number, those gloomy feelings intensified.

Isla’s thumb hovered over the call button for about five seconds before she tapped the message button.

She was going to chicken out and send him a text.

So sue her.

It was a simple text, and she read it over a couple of times before gathering her courage and hitting send.

Hey, how r things? Business is great. Wanted to thank you for that :)

Nothing strange about that at all. Nothing that showed any hint of pathetic desperation that would come from an ex.

She settled her phone back down on the table with a sigh, feeling pretty pleased with herself now that the ball was in his court. He could choose to respond, or say nothing at all.

It might even take him a couple of days to reply with his insanely busy schedule.

Isla opened her sketchbook and decided to finish coloring in her design, riding that small high when the screen of her phone lit up as it vibrated with a message.

Isla tensed, then pulled her phone forward.

From Arturo. Already. No fucking way.

And why was she shocked?

That’s great to hear. So glad everything’s working out.

He texted her with proper grammar. At least it looked proper. It was definitely better than what Isla and Jane sent to each other.

The problem was, there was no opening in what he’d sent her. His response seemed closed off, not inviting any sort of reply back that could start up into a conversation.

That could just be because he was in a meeting. He was a billionaire businessman. They spent a majority of their time in meetings.

Isla would send another text, just to let him know that she’d received and read the one he’d just sent.

Really appreciate what you did
. Isla worked to keep her text from looking like a fourteen year old was typing it.
I saw Sebastian today. He seems better. Wanted to wish me luck with the business.

She sent the text before she could really analyze what she’d said, so eager to say anything at all.

Maybe it hadn’t been the best idea to mention she’d seen Sebastian. Of course, she had said that he was better, but better from what? He wasn’t suffering from some incurable illness.

Arturo’s reply was quick.

He didn’t bother you, did he?

Shit. Isla didn’t want Arturo thinking Sebastian was harassing her or something. Not after the conversation they’d had.

She replied quickly.
No, it was a good conversation.

She sent the message off, hesitated, and then quickly typed out another.
Do you want to meet for a coffee?

She told Arturo where she was, then waited.

After five minutes, she was convinced he wasn’t going to reply, that she’d stepped over the fragile little line that had been right in front of her.

She told herself not to be disappointed, that it wasn’t so bad. It was just the way things were going to be.

She pretended the lump in her throat wasn’t there, and that she couldn’t hear the sound of her heart beating in her ears.

Then her phone buzzed. She almost didn’t look at the message, but then reminded herself that ripping off the Band-Aid was better than slowly peeling it away and prolonging her pain.

So she looked.

I’m on my way.

Isla’s heart lurched into her throat. He was coming? Now? He was actually going to be here?

She looked down at herself, checking her dress and her lap to make sure she hadn’t gotten any stains on it from the coffee or pencil shavings.

It was fine. She looked clean and her nails were okay. She pulled her purse up onto her lap and rummaged through it for her makeup bag.

She unzipped the small black case, pulled out her pocket mirror, and reapplied her lipgloss and fluffed her hair before rolling her shoulders.

She had to relax. She was going to make herself sick if she didn’t calm down.

But Isla couldn’t calm down. She hadn’t actually thought he’d be able to come. She thought he’d be stuck in a meeting, or have other responsibilities to take care of, like golf. Rich guys played golf with each other all the time. Wasn’t that how they networked with each other?

And then she waited, feeling kind of dumb for quickly primping herself like that. He was back at Calendri Corp, and there would have to be lunchtime traffic on the way over here. It would take him at least an hour to get here.

So she was shocked when, twenty-five minutes later, she spotted him walking through the glass door to the patio. It seemed he didn’t even need to look around. He spotted her instantly at her table by the corner of the black gate, their eyes locking across the many other tables between them.

Every bone in her body tensed and tightened. Her muscles bunched up, and her stomach clenched painfully with the feeling of inadequacy. He was so handsome, so perfect, and she’d been sitting there in the sun coloring in her book.

She hadn’t primped enough. There was no way she looked good enough, not when he looked like that.

Another standard black Italian suit, but he rocked it like, well, a billionaire.

His wavy hair was tied back in an elegant ponytail at the nape of his neck. He wore no tie today. Maybe he’d taken it off before coming into the coffee shop, as though he didn’t want to draw too much attention to himself. His gold cufflinks were gone as well, giving him more of an expensive business-casual appearance that was too damned attractive.

He smiled, and Isla’s insides melted.

She’d heard people use that description before, and she had even thought she’d experienced it herself a time or two.

Nope. She actually felt her stomach melt away inside of her body and form twin puddles at the bottom of her feet. The only thing that reminded her it wasn’t just in her imagination was the fact that she was still breathing.

Gasping for breath, more like it. Isla had forgotten how good he looked. Or maybe he just looked so much better because she hadn’t seen him in so long. Was it possible he might be thinking the same thing about her?

Arturo calmly walked over, stepping elegantly between seated customers, his eyes remaining locked onto her. He pulled out the chair across from her, where Sebastian had been sitting a little over a half an hour ago, and sat down, smiling.

Isla felt like she was about to have a job interview. An interview for her dream, reach-for-the-stars, never–in-a-million-years, sort of job.

“Hello,” Arturo said.

Isla swallowed. “Hi.”

Her face heated as her voice cracked.

She was mortified, and if her neck and body clenched any more, she was going to have a full-body cramp.

Arturo had to have noticed it, but he didn’t mention it. He just continued to smile that soft, Prince Charming smile at her.

There was nothing fake in it, and Isla was checking for that.

She stared at him. She might’ve been making him uncomfortable, because he cleared his throat and looked away from her. He reached his hand up to his collar, but he must’ve remembered that there was no tie there for him to loosen, so he dropped his hand.

“So, everything’s going well with the business?” he started.

She nodded. “Yeah.”

She couldn’t just give one word answers. She had to say
something
.

“My parents aren’t fighting so much anymore, though it looks like they might still split.”

Arturo’s dark brows drew together over his strong forehead. “Sorry to hear that.”

Again, he sounded like he meant it.

Isla shook her head. “Don’t be, it wasn’t your fault. It wasn’t anyone’s fault.” She laced her fingers together on the table. “If anything, it was stupid to ride their marriage on getting the business back.” Isla glanced up at Arturo. “Thanks again for that. It really is great to be working again.”

Arturo smiled. “I hear you’re selling your designs again.”

Pride swelled in her chest. “Yeah, want to see some that I’m going to make for the main store?”

She opened her sketchbook and showed the necklace to him before he could respond. At least, he genuinely looked interested.

“Very nice. And what are these gems here?”

“Pink crystal,” Isla said. “They give it that nice sparkly look while being inexpensive to make and to buy. Customers seem to like it.”

“Do all your designs have a sort of…I don’t know how to describe it. It’s not steampunk, but close.”

Isla grinned. “No, this is my fall collection,” she said. He was probably talking about the wire wrapping and bronze chains. “It seems to be selling pretty well, so I’m trying to come up with some new ideas. I even opened an Etsy shop.”

Arturo looked at her sharply. “Really?”

She waved her hand. “Not because things are stale in the stores, but I figured I should try making an income for myself, instead of riding out on the success of Baciami.”

“I handed over the 49 percent. That’s yours. I won’t take it back,” Arturo said.

She felt a full body blush coming over her. “I know, but it’s something I should’ve done anyway. If I’m ever going to be my own person, then I need to at least try and work outside of Baciami. Sometimes all I want to do is make more designs, but there really is only so much shelf space my grandfather will give over to me, even if the jewelry is selling well.”

He nodded. “I suppose that makes sense. Whenever I walk into a store, the space devoted to accessories isn’t always a lot.”

Isla nodded. “Exactly. Besides, you were the one who inspired me to really do it.”

“Me?” Arturo’s eyes widened.

She was pleased to catch him off guard. “I mean, I’ve played with the idea for a while, but never put a lot of effort into it. Knowing how hard you work, that you would actually spend days at a time in your office, well, it made me want to work harder too.”

He grinned wide at her, showing off his perfectly white, straight teeth, causing more of that melty feeling in her stomach. God help her.

“Glad to know your time spent with me was, well, influential.”

Isla nodded.

A waitress eventually came, taking Arturo’s order. He requested black coffee and a couple of cookies. She was pretty sure he even slipped the waitress a hundred dollar bill and told her to keep the change.

Of course, it might’ve also been to influence her a little when he said they wanted to speak privately for a while.

More of that tense tingling inside of her body took command of her. He wanted to speak with her alone? It wasn’t like the waitress would be buzzing around them like a gnat, but why would he want to speak with her alone?

Isla cleared her throat and took a sip from her straw. She barely tasted her own caramel coffee. “So, how’s the family?” she asked, just for something to say.

Arturo smiled. “Silvio seems distracted. Orlando’s been keeping busy. I guess you had a chat with Sebastian?”

She nodded.

He held onto his coffee mug. One finger seemed to scratch the ceramic white edge. “What did he say to you?”

Honesty was her best policy after all. “He told me why you all had a falling out.”

Arturo winced.

She kept smiling at him. “You were kids.”

He shook his head. “We should’ve known better.”

“No, not really.” When Arturo lifted one dark brow at her, she continued. “You were a child in that house. It didn’t matter how big you got, and you didn’t know any better. Not really. You loved your mom and didn’t want to cause trouble.”

“We shouldn’t have let Orlando go through all that, and Sebastian…” Arturo looked down into his dark mug. “He pisses me off now, but sometimes I really can’t be mad at him. Not after what happened.”

She wet her lips. “Arturo, you’re not special.”

He jerked his head back and really looked at her. He puffed out a small laugh. “Thanks so much for that.” He was smiling as he said it, but Isla didn’t want to make a joke of this.

“No, really, think about it. You were no different than any other kid your age. I don’t know if you didn’t step in because you thought Orlando was a boy, so it wasn’t like your mother could hurt him too much, or if you didn’t say or do anything out of respect and love for her, but in a weird way, that’s all normal. She was your mother. You loved her. I seriously doubt you wanted to yell at her to stop, or call the police on the woman who probably sung you to sleep when you were a baby. That is no different from any other child. You couldn’t have known what to do. You weren’t special, so stop holding yourself to a standard that says you were.”

“You said
weren’t special
that time.”

More heat rose in her cheeks. “You know what I meant,” she said, even though it had been a slip.

He looked and felt pretty special to her now. When he’d walked onto the patio, several women, and even a guy or two, had turned their heads to look at him.

He was special now.

“Does Orlando love you as his brother?”