‘I’m willing to bet my sizeable manga collection that you didn’t divulge a single personal detail about yourself.’
‘At the risk of repeating myself, I don’t do—’
‘Touchy-feely. Yes, I’m aware. But letting them see you as remotely...human may have prevented this from happening.’
‘That might work for the average Mom and Pop ice-cream-parlour business. If they can’t see their way past those...feelings to a multibillion-dollar merger, then perhaps I’m dealing with the wrong business.’
She sent him a droll look. ‘We both know this isn’t a mistake. The Ishikawa Corporation’s business record is outstanding. So is SNV’s. A successful merger would be the stuff of breaking news headlines and serious accolades. All you’ll need to do is...bend a little.’
‘Is that what you’d do in my shoes? Bare your life to strangers in order to secure a deal?’
She lifted her glass and took a healthy gulp, relishing the warmth that blanketed her insides. ‘We’re not talking about me here.’
‘You’re fond of hypotheticals. So let’s have it. Would you give yourself the same advice, were you in my position?’
‘Maybe.’ She bore his intense scrutiny for a minute before she sighed. ‘Yes, I would.’
‘And what would you tell them about yourself?’
Elise shook her head. ‘That’s too broad a question.’
‘Let’s streamline, then. You attended a university on the west coast when your family is based in a state with excellent universities. Why?’
Nerves began to eat into the warmth. She took another sip, despite the faint warning that this form of Dutch courage hadn’t been her best idea. ‘The need to broaden my horizons?’
‘If you had such a need, why did you return to work with your parents?’
She stiffened at the other raw subject that grated her nerves. ‘Is there a law against that?’
‘Is that the answer you’d give a prospective business partner?’
‘No...’ She paused, aware she had skidded towards a chasm of her own making. ‘I agreed to work at Jameson in return for my parents paying for my university tuition.’
A slow frown gathered on his brow. ‘They expected you to pay for the education they gave you?’
Elise chose to blame the Malbec for loosening the tight leash she normally had on her emotions. ‘They expect a lot of things. Including not giving free rides to anyone, including their daughter.’
The enlightened gleam in his eyes further unnerved her. ‘Things aren’t cordial between you and your parents?’
A harsh laugh escaped before she could stop it. ‘You could say that.’
‘Then why do you work with them?’ he queried.
‘Because jobs don’t automatically fall from the heavens the moment you graduate from college. And if, by some divine grace, you make it to a second or third interview and your prospective boss finds out that you’re the daughter of Marsha and Ralph Jameson, they question why you’d snub the chance to work for the exalted Jamesons. Half of them won’t touch you because they don’t believe you’ll be committed to your job. The other half have certain...preconceived notions about you and won’t even give you a chance. Seven months of polite rejections and my parents demanding repayment of their loan left me little choice.’
Elise took another sip of wine to drown the sinking knowledge that she’d divulged far more than she’d intended to.
Silence seething with questions filled the room. Alejandro levelled a gaze at her, speculation swirling in his shrewd eyes. ‘And is that debt paid off?’
She swallowed. ‘No. But I’m almost there.’
He raised his brow. ‘Almost?’
‘Yep. With your help, of course.’
‘My help?’ he enquired thinly.
‘Helping you nail this deal would be great for you, of course, and it’ll boost my résumé, too, but, more importantly, it’ll see me freed from the shackles of Mum and Dad. So really, it’s a trifecta of pure winning.’
Alejandro slowly swirled his glass. ‘I see.’
Shame nibbled at her. As he continued to stare at her, heat that had nothing to do with the great food and wine swarmed up her neck. ‘I’m sorry, you didn’t ask for my life history.’ Setting the nearly empty glass down, she stood. And swayed. Alejandro surged up and grasped her waist. She averted her gaze from eyes that saw way too much. ‘I told you I wasn’t much of a drinker.’
‘Sí, you did, but you’re not drunk. Trust me, I know the difference.’ His voice was faintly self-mocking.
‘All the same, this isn’t going to look good in the morning, is it?’ she muttered.
‘You barely finished your glass. I’m not going to hold it against you.’
Her eyes flicked to his. And stayed, absorbed by the faint gold flecks splaying from his pupils. ‘Thanks,’ she whispered.
‘De nada,’ he murmured.
They remained like that, their breaths close enough to mingle. Elise knew it was unsafe to let those dark-rimmed eyes bore right into her soul. ‘I didn’t mean to carry on. I just...’
His eyebrow lifted. ‘You just...?’
‘I don’t like talking about my parents.’
‘Why?’
‘It...it just hurts too much, you know?’
A curiously bleak smile quirked his lips. ‘No. I don’t know.’
Elise frowned. ‘Of course not. I’m guessing you had a brilliant childhood, filled with nauseatingly blissful memories.’
The hands curled at her waist tightened imperceptibly. ‘Nauseating more often than not, yes. Blissful, no.’
Her brain suddenly locked onto the fact that his hands were on her body. Elise couldn’t think beyond the electric heat seeping into her skin. Or the need to feel it glide elsewhere.
‘Well, I’m sorry.’
‘For what?’
She attempted a shrug. ‘For both of us.’
‘I don’t need your pity.’ His voice was edgy, filled with a thousand barbs.