the balcony, she closed them and then searched for her next task. “The Princess is bringing her own servants who I’m told will take care of her wing while she’s here. I’ve got the kitchen and the cleaning and Jesse will help me when I need it as well as chauffeur and maintain the yard.”
“Chauffeur? Where would he drive anyone? There isn’t a town or anyone else on this island, for that matter.”
“If you and your lovely fiancée want a drive to enjoy the island, Jesse will do it,” she insisted.
“I’ll keep that in mind.” He thought about asking who was in charge of the horses but was ready for Cook to leave. She would stay and answer his questions all day, all the while searching for more information, if he didn’t dismiss her.
It was his turn to get some answers, and for that, he needed to be alone. “And I’ll be downstairs promptly at seven,” he told her, turning to his laptop.
Cook took the hint, picking up the tray and heading to the door. Jordan glanced over his shoulder when she closed it behind her, sighing and reaching for his coffee.
Grabbing his cell phone as it rang, he clicked the icon on his computer to pull up his chat program.
“Jordan, how are you?”
“Aunt Penelope, what time is it there?” He glanced at the clock in the corner of his screen and tried subtracting the hours.
“It’s the middle of the afternoon but I wanted to make sure you arrived safely. So far all of my hands are working fine. But they don’t know how long you’re going to be gone. Are you sure you can go through with this?” Aunt Penelope understood him more than his own mother, and even though he and his aunt weren’t related by blood, he often felt a closer kindred spirit to her than he did to his mom.
“We’ve been through this, Aunt P. I wish you’d quit worrying. And I arrived here fine. It’s a gorgeous island. You’d love it here.”
“I don’t know about that.” Her laughter sounded tense. “It’s way too far from my ranch.”
Jordan imagined her standing in the living room, possibly looking out her front window, her hair tousled, and wearing the sweatpants she always wore. His aunt was a pretty woman, although after her divorce she quit trying to act the part. It would take a while for her to bounce back after forcing a husband out the door for his continued infidelity.
“That it is,” he agreed, enjoying hearing her voice. “You shouldn’t worry about the hired help, though. I can keep up with the books if you scan everything into the file I set up for you before I left. It will be just like setting them on my desk. And I’m fine. The month will fly. You know that. I’ll be back in no time. Don’t you dare give my job to someone else.”
“If you see out the month, the conditions are you get married to royalty. And somehow I don’t see a Sicilian princess enjoying living out her days here. If you don’t marry her, you have to go to work for Grandfather,” she added, the bitterness in her voice apparent. The moment she’d learned of the ultimatum, she’d hated Grandfather for it. “Coming back here isn’t part of the deal.”
“Don’t hire someone to replace me, Aunt P. Please,” he stressed. “I’ve got a month to figure out the best way out of this. And worst-case scenario, I walk away from all of the family.”
“You won’t walk away from them for me, Jordan. I won’t allow it.”
“You’re getting yourself all upset and I told you not to worry. Don’t you dare let that ranch fall apart while I’m gone. You can’t afford to pay me overtime to get it back on its feet when I get back,” he emphasized, intentionally snapping at her. “And you know damn good and well I wouldn’t be walking away from my family. I plan on coming home to my family in a month. Now, get in the Suburban and drive around the ranch. Keep your appearances up and that will be enough to keep everyone working like they always do.”
Her laughter was melodic yet sad. “There are times when I wonder how much Anton blood actually runs in your veins, Jordan.”
“Flattery will get you everywhere, Aunt P,” he told her, smiling while he logged in to his chat program and then watched the offline messages appear on his screen. “Now, do as I say. You know you can call with any questions or problems. We’ll get through this. I’m going to get some work done before the fireworks start tomorrow.”
“Okay,” she said, yawning in his ear.
“Have a good evening, Aunt P. I’m here to tell you, tomorrow isn’t that bad.” Technically, he was a day ahead of her and made light of the difference in time zones between the island and Montana.
“Good night,” she said, not laughing at his joke, and then hung up the phone.
Jordan blew out a breath. Putting his phone next to his keyboard, he stared at the sandwich Cook had brought him. He was no longer in the mood for it. In the back of his head, he’d known over the years since he reached adulthood that it was a matter of time before the Antons would disown him. Regardless of his last name, or how thick his blood was or wasn’t, he couldn’t play by Grandfather’s rules. And Grandfather didn’t allow any family member to not adhere to the reputation he believed all Antons should uphold.
Jordan stared at his offline messages, three of them from two ranch hands and a lady in town that he occasionally spent time with. He hadn’t told her he was going to be gone for a month. Running his fingers through his hair he yanked out his ponytail holder and stood, combing his hair with his fingers and redoing his ponytail.
Opening the doors that Cook had closed to his balcony, he ignored the chime of his laptop informing him he’d received an instant message, and stepped out onto the balcony. Jordan’s family wasn’t perfect. Hell, they were worse than most of the soap operas his aunt watched. But they were his family.
“Figure it out, Anton,” he grumbled under his breath, leaning on the edge of the sturdy railing and staring at the large yard in front of the castle and beyond, where the drive disappeared amidst rocks and trees leading to the ocean.
He straightened, staring beyond to the endless ocean that faded into the sky. Maybe he would have been smarter to tell Grandfather Anton to get the hell out of Jordan’s life and refuse to come here. The ranch had been about to go under when Jordan moved in with his aunt two years ago. They’d worked hard to overcome the debts his Uncle Jorge had created. And Jordan was proud of how far they’d come. The ranch wouldn’t make his aunt rich, but it was her land, free and clear, and today it was breaking even.
Jordan couldn’t help thinking that their success was a good part of the reason Grandfather suddenly became interested in his life. That and his mother, who loved her country club lifestyle, ached to brag about her son the way other members of his family bragged about his cousins. She prayed daily, Jordan didn’t have any doubt, that he would follow his father’s footsteps and enter into the family business.
Jordan couldn’t see himself ever donning a suit and sitting behind a desk deciding which business would go under and which would make it another year. The family business disgusted him.
His computer chimed again and Jordan entered his bedroom, shifting his thoughts to the compelling Miss Amber Stone. He needed to Google her, learn what he could about his social organizer. Grandfather would have hired the best, and if he intentionally chose her because of her looks, Jordan would soon learn the truth to that. He wouldn’t put it past Grandfather to
