Summer Vows. Rochelle Alers

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      “What made you decide to live in Long Key rather than Key West?”

      Ana’s query pulled Jacob from his musings. “Key West is too crowded and touristy. Long Key is more for those looking for laid-back solitude.” He gave her a quick glance. “Have you ever been to the Keys?”

      Ana gave Jacob a spontaneous smile for the first time. “When I was sixteen I’d decided to leave home. Destination: Key West. I’d accelerated in high school, graduating a year ahead of my peers and I was ambivalent about going to college. I’d read about Ernest Hemingway living in Key West, and I was always drawn to the bohemian lifestyle.”

      “How were you planning to support yourself?”

      “I’d closed out my bank account, and I figured if I lived frugally then it would’ve lasted me until I took control of my trust.”

      “How long was that going to take?”

      Ana turned her head to stare out the side window. “Nine years.”

      “At sixteen you’d saved enough money to last you for nine years?”

      A smile softened her mouth. “At sixteen I’d believed I could live on five thousand dollars for nine years. What did I know about money? All I knew was when I asked for it to buy something, I got it. I loaded up my car and took off in the middle of the night. I got as far as Miami before the police pulled me over.”

      “Were you speeding?”

      “No. They told me the car had been reported stolen.”

      “Should I assume the car was in your father’s name?” Jacob asked as he struggled not to laugh.

      “It was. The police held me until Daddy arrived. What he didn’t say frightened me more than if he’d gone off on me. He refused to talk to me, then loaded my bags in his car and arranged to have my car driven back to Boca Raton. I didn’t get to see that car again until it was time for me to go to college. Having my dad, whom I adore, not talk to me for weeks cured me of wanting to live in Key West.”

      “What made you decide to strike out on your own?”

      “It had to be impulsivity or a temporary lapse of common sense. When Daddy finally did talk to me he said that if I’d wanted to go off and see the world, then he would’ve hired a chaperone to accompany me wherever I wanted to go. The fact that I didn’t trust him enough to tell him of my plan hurt him more than I could’ve imagined. He reminded me of that when the rumor about bad blood between Serenity and Slow Wyne was made public.”

      “You didn’t tell him about what went down between you and Basil Irvine?”

      “No.”

      “Why not?”

      “Because if my father hadn’t thought I was capable enough to run the company, then he wouldn’t have relinquished control once he decided to retire. Would you have asked my brother that question if he were CEO?”

      A frown settled into Jacob’s features. “It’s not about gender, Ana.”

      “Then what is it about?” she asked, her voice rising in annoyance.

      There was only the sound of the slip-slap of rubber on the roadway as he drove onto the Long Key Channel. “It’s about trust and respect,” Jacob said softly. “It couldn’t have been easy for your dad to start up a new record label when he had to compete with legendary giants like Atlantic, Capitol, Sony, Epic and RCA. Nowadays you have to go head-to-head with Virgin, Interscope, Slow Wyne and Island Records Def Jam and Roc-A-Fella. The genre and players may have changed, but the business is still the same.”

      “How do you know so much about record companies?” There was no mistaking the awe in her tone.

      “I read a lot,” Jacob said glibly. “I need you to answer one question for me.”

      “What’s that?”

      “Are you feuding with Basil Irvine?”

      “No. Basil has been in business long enough to know he can’t win every negotiation. Justin Glover isn’t the first artist he’s failed to sign to his label and I’m certain he won’t be the last. I’ve lost count of the number of performers we’ve lost to other labels for one reason or another. I just suck it up and move on.”

      “Maybe that’s because you’re a gracious loser. I don’t like to keep bringing up gender, but you have to remember you’re a woman, so someone with an ego like Irvine’s isn’t going to accept defeat as graciously from a woman as he would from a man.”

      Ana knew Jacob was right about her gender when it came to Basil, but she wasn’t about to admit that openly. Basil had earned a reputation as an astute and aggressive businessman, and despite his reputation as a misogynist women still fell over themselves to be seen with him.

      Jacob turned off onto Royce Creek Drive, driving a short distance before pulling into the driveway of a two-story house. Maneuvering under a carport, he lowered the windows, and then cut off the engine. He rested a hand on Ana’s shoulder. “Don’t move. I’ll be right back.”

      Unbuckling her seat belt, she shifted on the seat in an attempt to take in her surroundings. One side of Jacob’s house overlooked a canal with direct access to the Atlantic Ocean. Ana smiled when she thought of waking up to water views. Her favorite pastime was sitting on her condo’s balcony at sunset drinking a chai latte. It was as if all the stress of the day faded as the sun sank lower in the horizon before disappearing and leaving the darkening sky with splashes of red and orange.

      She didn’t have to wait long. Jacob returned, sans the hat he should’ve discarded a long time ago. To say he wasn’t into fashion was an understatement. She did recall him wearing a suit to the baptism, but that was expected because it was held in a church. What she couldn’t remember was him being at Diego’s wedding.

      Ana stared, her eyes becoming wider behind her glasses as Jacob came closer. Without the hat she was able see all of his face. Her gaze lingered on the elegant ridge of his cheekbones before moving down to his sensual, masculine mouth. She found her protector to be genuinely handsome, and she could not imagine why he didn’t have a wife or a girlfriend. The only alternative was that he wasn’t into women. That would have been devastating because he was the epitome of masculinity. His cropped black hair, tall, broad-shouldered physique, lithe stride and soothing, modulated deep voice should have drawn women to him like moths to a flame.

      Jacob opened the passenger-side door and extended his arms. Placing her hands on his shoulders, Ana found herself cradled to his hard chest before he slowly lowered her feet to the ground. “You can go in now and look around while I bring in your bags.”

      She walked in through the side door, finding herself in a space that doubled as a pantry, laundry room and a place where Jacob had stored tool boxes, fishing rods and other boating equipment. A trio of bright orange life vests hung from hooks on the wall along with two racing bikes suspended from a rack. She then entered an all-white state-of-the-art kitchen. Beyond the kitchen was a living/dining room with a vaulted ceiling. A curving black wrought-iron staircase led to a loft. All of the floors on the first level were gleaming black slate, a shocking contrast to the lighter colored furnishings.

      The house was airy, filled with an abundance of light, and spotless, СКАЧАТЬ