Her One Night Proposal

“I’m going to make you an offer that you can’t refuse,” she said. Wasn’t that what Robert Redford had said? Was that right? Wasn’t that the line?

“What are you, the Godfather?”

“No, I’m trying to say I need a man for the weekend, and if that prospectus is any indication you’re looking for investors, you need some money, so... I’m making a mess of this.”

“Is this an indecent proposal?”

Two

She blushed and blinked at him and then sat up even straighter and tipped her head to the side. “It’s more of a business proposal that is personal in nature.”

He’d been propositioned before but usually by women who wanted entrée into his jet-set world.

“I’m intrigued,” he said. And he wasn’t lying. This woman was beautiful. And though the fact that she was offering him money out of the blue was crazy, it was a nice fantasy to think of someone like her sponsoring his America’s Cup bid, not a bloodless corporation or his controlling father.

“I’m going to a destination wedding and I need a date. It’s four days, three nights, and I’m willing to invest in your project there in return for you accompanying me. It would be strictly for show. I’m not expecting you to do anything indecent.”

“Too bad. I sort of liked the idea,” he said. Funny, he was about to attend a wedding that was scheduled to run for the same amount of time. Was she attending Adler’s wedding, too?

Her shoulders stiffened and she sat up even straighter if that were possible. He liked her, he realized. She was different from the sporty women he usually hung out with, and though she was polished and clearly moved in the same social circles he’d grown up in, she felt different.

“Well, that’s not on the table,” she said.

“Why are you hiring a guy?” he asked. Frankly she didn’t seem like the type of woman who had to pay someone to be with her, and if she was, what was he missing?

“It’s a long story,” she said. “And I really don’t want to get into all the details. Suffice it to say, I was dating someone, and he broke up with me and I don’t want to go stag to this event. It’s televised and I’m filming while I’m there so...”

“It’s about image?” he asked, a bit disappointed because she’d seemed to be more real than that. But he’d been fooled before so he shouldn’t be too surprised.

She shook her head. “Yes, but it’s not what you think. It’s my business. I’m a lifestyle guru... I have a show and line of products and my mentor’s sister designed the wedding dress so I’m doing an entire behind-the-scenes thing. If it was just me and not all the other brand stuff, I wouldn’t care.”

“Who are you?” he asked. “I hope you don’t mind me asking but I’ve been out of the country and spend most of my time on the water.”

“I’m Iris Collins.”

He had heard of her, mainly from his sister, Mari, who had mentioned her as someone she wanted to grow her brand to be like. Which Zac had freely admitted he had no clue about. “I’m Zac.”

“Am I right in assuming you need investors for your America’s Cup bid?”

“Yes, I’m trying to find investors to fund my run. I have some new people and ideas I want to try,” Zac explained.

“I think I can help you with that,” she said.

“Lifestyle guru-ing pays that well?”

“Very well,” she said with a laugh. “Which is another reason why I really need to present the right image. It would mainly involve you dressing up and holding my hand. Maybe there’d be a kiss or two but I just need someone to be my partner at all the events.”

He was 100 percent sure that his answer had to be no. He didn’t need Carlton Mansford—his father’s PR-spin doctor—to explain that hiring himself out as a date for the weekend wasn’t going to play well if it ever got out. And he’d been a Bisset long enough to know that this kind of thing wouldn’t stay a secret.

He had to come clean with her. Let her know he wasn’t desperate for money.

“I...”

He trailed off. He wanted to let her know it was a no-go but didn’t want to embarrass her. Under different circumstances he’d have asked her out to dinner, but this wasn’t that time. He had a problematic wedding of his own to attend, and he needed to really focus on getting serious investors for his team, not a nice lady who had some money to pay him for a weekend together.

She gave him a wry smile. “Don’t say anything else. I knew it was a long shot. My sister said I should be Richard Gere and find myself someone pretty to have on my arm.”

“She’s right. But I’m not that guy,” he said.

She nodded. “Thank you for your time. And the drink is of course on me.”

She got up and walked away with way more class and elegance than he knew he could ever muster. She held her head high and back straight as she went over to the bar area.

Then there was a commotion near the entrance, and he noticed a TV cameraman and several photographers entering as the seating hostess tried to stop them.

They made a beeline for Iris and Zac turned to watch them.

“Ms. Collins, rumor has it that you were dumped by Graham Winstead III?” one of the paparazzi shouted out. “Will this affect the launch of your new Domestic Goddess line? How can you claim to know anything about domestic bliss when you’re—”

“Boys, please. Rumors are just that. Rumors. I’m not going to deign to answer them. As my father always says, keeping your ear close to the ground and listening is good business, repeating what you heard is asking for trouble.”

Iris Collins smiled winningly at the cameras and then glanced at her watch. “I have to run. I’m meeting someone important.”

She turned and started to walk past the paparazzi, but bumped into a table and lost her balance. Zac was on his feet before he had a chance to remind himself he’d already decided this was a bad idea.

But somehow watching her maintain her poise and dignity as she dealt with the gossip had made him forget that. He wanted to know more about this woman. He caught her and pulled her into his arms, looking down into her startled face.

“Angel face, I’ve got you,” he said, making sure he only looked at her.

Angel face?

She clung to his big shoulders and automatically smiled but she was pretty sure she looked like Jared Leto’s version of the Joker from Suicide Squad. Being ambushed in person wasn’t something she’d ever get used to. She preferred to deal with this kind of gossip online when she could rant to her assistant, then just smile and type out a response. Even more embarrassing had been the fact that she knew that Zac had overheard it all.

She’d pretty much used up all of her stores of bravado talking to the paparazzi and the last thing she wanted now was to make things worse. There was a knot in the pit of her stomach, and she was angry. And she couldn’t help it; ever since she was a young girl, when she got mad, she cried. She blinked a number of times, refusing to let anyone see tears in her eyes.

Including Zac, but he seemed to get that she needed someone at her side. And here he was, holding her and calling her angel face. She had been doing photo-calls for her blog and TV show for the last five years so she was polished and professional or at least she hoped she was on the outside. Inside she wanted to hammer out the details. Did this mean he would come with her to the wedding?

“Thanks,” she said, straightening back up. But he continued to hold her close to him.

“Go with it,” he said.

“Did you change your mind?” she asked, staring into his blue eyes and hoping that he had. Though a part of her wanted him just for her own, this was easier. No messy feelings, no falling for someone who thought she was basic. Just a simple exchange of favors.

“Yes,” he said under his breath.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and planted the biggest, juiciest, showiest kiss on his lips that she could. She knew it had to look good for the paparazzi and she put everything she had into it. She thought he was surprised at first, but then he dipped her low, his tongue sliding over hers, and she forgot about the cameras and the game. Forgot everything but the fact that this man was holding her in his arms, and he made her feel alive.

He straightened them both up and she still felt dazed. She had no problem ignoring the paparazzi, who were calling out questions to them as they walked out of the bar. He just sort of directed her and she followed. As soon as they were on the street, a large Bentley pulled up and a driver got out and opened the door.

“Sir.”

“Malcolm,” Zac said as he held the door open and she slid in the backseat.

As soon as the door closed behind them and they were on their way, she grabbed her phone and texted someone. Then she turned to him.

“Sorry, I was supposed to meet my hair and makeup people back there. I just texted them to cancel. Now what’s going on? Who are you? Did you really agree to be my date for four days? I’m pretty sure you don’t need the money...unless you’re a professional gigolo—you’re not, right?”

He rubbed his finger over his lips and just stared at her as if he couldn’t stop thinking about their kiss. If she were 100 percent honest, she couldn’t either, but she wanted to pretend nothing had happened. She was beige, right? She didn’t kiss a stranger and feel instant passion like this. It was probably a fluke, she thought. Yeah, a total fluke.

“You asked me to help you out in exchange for investing in my project,” he said. “I wasn’t going to do it, but when I saw what you were up against, I couldn’t resist.”

“Are you doing this out of pity?” she asked. If so, she was turning into a total loser. She really should never have started this whole indecent-proposal thing.

“No, I’m doing it for money,” he said, winking at her.

Damn, he was so handsome for a minute she just smiled back at him and then his words sunk in. “But do you need money? You’re not a gigolo, are you?”

“I don’t know anyone younger than my grandmother who uses that word.”

“I don’t like the term man-whore,” she quipped. “Listen, just answer me. Do you take money from women to hang out with them?”

“Just you,” he said.

He was being cute, and she couldn’t blame him, but this situation had just gone from a jokey idea to reality and she was committed because those photos of the two of them were going to go viral. Having him by her side would seriously save her bacon, but at the same time it created a bunch of issues she and her team were going to have to deal with.

“Glad to know I’m special. Where are we going?” she asked as she realized the driver seemed to be making a big circle around downtown.

“Wherever you want to discuss this,” he said. “Malcolm will keep driving until we give him a location, right?”

“Yes, sir. Ma’am, where should I take you?” the driver asked her, without taking his eyes from the road.

“Take us to Collins Commons,” she said, naming her father’s compound in the financial district. They could discuss the details in one of the conference rooms there. Her phone started blowing up with texts and she glanced at them. Her team wanting to know where she was and who that hottie was with her.

“What’s at Collins Commons?” he asked.

“My father’s office. We can discuss your project, my investment in it and what I will need from you this weekend,” she said. “I think it’s best to get that all in writing so that we don’t have any confusion.”

“This weekend?”

“Yes. The wedding is the Osborn-Williams one on Nantucket.”

Zac stared at her for a long moment and seemed to be pondering something but he finally just took a deep breath and nodded more to himself than to her.

“Your dad does this kind of thing?” Zac asked.

“Investments and contracts, yes. Hiring a man for the weekend, no. I think I’m the first one in our family to do this.”

Zac had to give her props for recovering quickly; he realized there was much more to Iris Collins than met the eye. She had handled the online-gossip-site stringers with more aplomb that he ever had. He had seen her mask slip only once and that was when he kissed her.

She was attending his cousin’s wedding. He should tell her who he was, but then she might not believe he really wanted outside investors. They were still essentially strangers and telling people he was a Bisset, had complicated his life in the past.

He knew the embrace was meant to be all show for the photographers, but he’d never been good at hiding the truth of who he was. He was ambitious and some would say militant when it came to what he wanted. But then he was a Bisset, and even though he hadn’t gone into the family business, he’d brought the cutthroat Bisset drive with him to the world of competitive sailing.

But this was an entirely new situation and he was trying to be chill until he got the lay of the land. The conference room they were led to in the Collins Commons building was well appointed. Not unlike the massively impressive boardroom in the Bisset Industries headquarters in New York.

He knew that at some point he needed to clear up who he was, but not yet. He was enjoying this. She’d wrested control back from him, and though it was counter to his nature, there was something about her that fascinated him.

Maybe it was that for the first time since he’d left Team GB and came back to New England to start his own team, he wasn’t facing a choice that he didn’t want to make. He had always been the kind of man who forged his own path. He’d known from watching Larry Ellison’s attempts to win the America’s Cup with his Oracle backing that it wouldn’t be easy. But he hadn’t realized how hard it would be to convince investors to take a chance on him without Bisset Industries’ money also backing him.

He had always been able to make things happen without his father’s assistance. It had been a point of pride for him and now... Well, unless he missed his guess, Iris had the connections to the kind of investors he needed. All he had to do was be her date for a long weekend. Simple enough.

Except his family would be at this wedding and, though he kept his private life private, the kind of splashy relationship she wanted from him...might raise questions. He had to make some decisions quickly.

“Are you freaked out now?” she asked.

“Aren’t you?” he countered.

“Yes. I am. Listen, you were so sweet to come to my rescue when I tripped, but I’m not sure you know what you’ve gotten into,” she said.

He leaned back in the large leather chair and steepled his fingers across his chest in a move he’d seen his father make many times when facing an opponent in the boardroom. The fact that the opponent was usually his aunt or his mom had always made Zac smile, but right now he was glad to have that model to draw on.

“Tell me about it,” he said.

She nodded and stood up, moving to the other side of the large boardroom table and pacing in front of the windows that looked down on Collins Commons. The summer sun was filtered through the tinted windows but still provided enough light for him to admire her slim silhouette.

“As I mentioned, I’m a lifestyle television personality. My career started with a blog, and I was a personal assistant to Leta Veerland. I’m not sure if you’ve heard of her,” Iris said.

“I know her,” he said.

Leta Veerland was on par with Martha Stewart. She’d built her career in the 1980s and ’90s with her lifestyle books, monthly magazine and television show. Yeah, he’d heard of her. His mom had considered her the gold standard for entertaining and had emulated Leta Veerland at all her Hamptons summer parties and events.

“I figured. She’s a household name. Anyway, she wanted to cut back on the show and I transitioned into it and brought a younger, fresh perspective—her words—to it. And people seemed to respond. So, I’ve been doing this for about seven years now. My market has been growing from single-girl-in-the-city to coupledom-and-settling-down—”

“But you’re not in a couple?” he asked.

“Well, yes. I mean I was dating someone but that didn’t work out. And I’d been teasing that I’d reveal my new guy at this wedding that I’m a bridesmaid in. I’m also promoting a new product launch for brides-to-be and new wives so...”

“It would look really bad if you showed up stag,” he said. “Okay, that makes sense. So what exactly do you need from me if I do this?”

She turned around, and he noticed when she talked business there was none of that sweetness to her. She had a very serious go-getter expression that reminded him a lot of his father and his brother Logan when they were going in to close a deal.

“If? The paparazzi just caught us embracing. I’m afraid it’s you or no one else,” she said. “We just need to work out a price.”

He stood up and walked around the long conference table, taking his time. He had somehow gotten the upper hand and while he knew funding and financing an America’s Cup bid was way too high a price to ask her to pay for four days as her “boyfriend,” they were both in a position where there wasn’t an out.

She didn’t back up when he moved closer, not stopping until only an inch of space separated them. “I’m afraid what I need is very pricey.”

Three

Coming home to Nantucket was always bittersweet for Juliette Bisset. She and her mother, Vivian, had continually had a difficult relationship when they were in the city but on Nantucket they’d always been strangely close. Maybe it was the beach-hair-don’t-care attitude that seemed to infuse the island. Juliette had never really thought too much about it, had simply vowed she’d be less harsh if she had a daughter of her own, something she’d failed at.

Her younger sister, Musette, had loved it here as well when she was alive. She’d been gone almost twenty-five years now. Juliette still missed her even though during the last few years of Musette’s life, it had been difficult to love her and not live with the constant fear that she was going to kill herself with her reckless lifestyle.

“I figured I’d find you out here.”

Juliette turned around to see her niece, Adler, standing there. Musette’s daughter. She was the reason the entire family was descending on the island.

Adler’s was going to be a no-holds-barred, celebrity-studded, televised ceremony. And as if that wasn’t enough to cause stress, she was also marrying into the family of Juliette’s husband’s business rival. It was completely insane and yet seemed perfectly normal considering she was Musette’s daughter. A part of Juliette imagined her sister, who’d never like August Bisset, chuckling in glee at the fact that her daughter was marrying into his rival’s family.

“I can’t help thinking about your mom this week as we are all here for your wedding.”

“Me too. I miss her,” Adler said.

Juliette put her arm around Adler and hugged her close. “Me too. I feel like she’s here with us.”

“I hope so,” Adler said. “That’s one of the reasons why I picked Nantucket for the wedding. This is where we were always happiest when she was still alive.”

“I’m hoping the gardenias bloom in time for my wedding bouquet,” Adler said.

Juliette knew that Musette used to leave the blossoms in Adler’s nursery when she was a little girl. “I’m sure they will.”

Adler turned away to the other headstones in the private family cemetery. This land had been in the Wallis family for six generations and most of their ancestors were buried here.

“Why is this gravestone blank?” Adler asked.

Juliette’s stomach felt like lead and her throat tightened. That tiny gravestone held her deepest, darkest secret. “It’s for a baby who was stillborn.”

“Oh. That’s sad. Was it Gran’s?” Adler asked.

“No, it wasn’t,” Juliette said. “Let’s get back up to the house before that storm blows in.”

Adler slipped her arm through Juliette’s as they walked back up the cobblestone path toward the house. Adler was talking about her wedding and the last-minute things she needed to do in the three days before all of her guests arrived. But Juliette’s mind was elsewhere—back there with that tiny unmarked gravestone. There were times when she’d wished she’d never hidden that baby.

But there were other actions she’d taken...things that couldn’t be undone, so her little stillborn baby boy would always be hidden there.

They went through the house’s beachside entrance, switching their sandy shoes for slippers that the butler, Michael, thoughtfully left for them. As soon as they entered the hallway, Dylan, Vivian’s corgi, ran toward them. Adler dropped down to her knees, petting Dylan and getting several sloppy kisses.

Juliette petted Dylan, as well.

“Nice walk, Juliette?” her mother asked as she entered the hallway. Vivian was in her seventies but looked younger. She wore a pair of slim-fitting white jeans and a chambray shirt that she had loosely tucked in on one side. While on Nantucket and in beach mode, she let her naturally curly blond hair actually stay curly instead of having it straightened by her lady’s maid, Celeste, each morning. She held a martini glass in one hand, and as she came closer to Juliette, she reached over and gave her a loose hug.

Then her mom did the same with Adler but added an air kiss. Juliette had compared herself to others for so many years, and for a moment she started to let the old feelings of jealousy well up before she shoved them aside. She had a daughter of her own that she was finally getting close to. Something she’d never expected to happen at the ripe old age of sixty-one.

“Martini, girls?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Adler said.

“Definitely,” Juliette said. This weekend was going to be hard for her in more ways than one, but she was going to do her best to face it with charm and a smile firmly in place.

“When is August coming?” her mom asked when they were all seated in the sunroom.

“I’m not entirely sure. He and Logan have a meeting with a client this week and they will be coming together,” Juliette said.

She and her husband were enjoying a new closeness since he’d stepped down and handed the reins of Bisset Industries over to their son, Logan.

“I hope Logan and Uncle August are nice,” Adler said. “Zac promised he’d help me ride herd on his older brother, but you know how Logan can be.”

“I do. He’s so much like your uncle,” Juliette said, trying not to let her mind linger too long on that thought.

“How pricey will it be for you to join me?” Iris asked Zac as they continued their negotiation. She was trying to stay focused on business but he smelled good and that kiss earlier... How she’d felt when he’d kissed her kept distracting her. Was it a fluke? That was the one thought that was going through her head.

His mouth continued to be a distraction. It was firm looking, but his lips had been so soft when he kissed her. Had she just imagined it? She wasn’t sure that hiring a man to be her date at the wedding was a good idea. She’d barely kissed Zac and she was already losing her focus on the big prize. She had to hustle to stay ahead of the competition. And instead of worrying about that she was wondering about his kiss.

Focus, girl.

“I’m actually putting together my own team for the America’s Cup.”

She blinked. That wasn’t what she’d been expecting to hear. She knew very little about the America’s Cup except that the CEO of Oracle had won for the United States a few years ago and that it had taken him a lot of money and time. “Is that what you do for a living? Sailing? Or is this a new hobby?”