style="font-size:15px;"> “No, in fact quite the opposite. I think I might have been too nice.”
Riley snorted.
“She turned me down. But I’m going to regroup, find another way.” Finn reached into the breast pocket of his suit. “I’ve got a list of pros and cons I’m going to present to her—”
Riley pushed Finn’s hand away. “For a smart guy, you can be a complete idiot sometimes.”
“This is logical, sound reasoning. Any smart businessperson would—”
“I’m sure you’re right. And if you have a month or three to go back and forth on pros and cons and heretofores and whatevers, I’d agree with you.” Riley leaned in closer. “But you don’t have that kind of time.”
Apparently Riley had been listening to Finn’s worries over the past year. Finn was impressed with his little brother’s intuitiveness. Maybe he didn’t give Riley enough credit. “True.”
“So that means you need to change your tactics.”
Finn had an argument ready, but he bit it back. Riley had a point. Negotiations took time, and that was pretty much what his list was. He was an expert when it came to the art of the business deal, but this was different—and he’d struck out with Ellie Winston in a big way. He needed a new idea, and right now, he’d take ideas from about anyone and anywhere. “Okay. How?”
Riley grinned and sat back. “Easy. Do what I do.”
“I am not sleeping with her just to get what I want.” Finn scowled. “You have a one-track mind.”
Riley pressed a hand to his heart. “Finn, you wound me. I would never suggest that. Well, I might, but not in your case.” Riley paused. “Especially not in your case.”
“Hey.”
“You are way too uptight and practical to do such a thing.”
“For good reason.” Nearly every move in his life was well planned, thought out and executed with precision. Even his relationship with his ex had been like that. He’d chosen a partner who was a peer, someone with common interests, in the right age range and with the kind of quiet understated personality that seemed to best suit his own.
It had seemed to be the wisest choice all around. The kind that wouldn’t leave him—or her—unhappy in the end. He’d been stunned when she’d broken up with him and worse, maligned his business and revealed she’d only gone out with him to get information.
But had that been real love? If he could so easily be over the relationship, at least emotionally? Was real love methodical, planned?
Or a wild, heady rush?
The image of Ellie in that figure-hugging maroon dress, her head thrown back in laughter, her eyes dancing with merriment, sent a blast of heat through him. He suspected she was the kind of woman who could get a man to forget a lot more than just his business agenda. For just a second, that empty feeling in his chest lifted. Damn, he really needed to eat more or sleep more or something. He was nearly a blubbering emotional idiot today.
Wild heady rushes didn’t mix with business. Wild heady rushes led to heartache down the road. Wild heady rushes were the exact opposite of Finn McKenna.
“The secret to getting what you want, especially from a woman, is very simple,” Riley said.
“Flowers and wine?”
Riley laughed. “That always helps, but no, that’s not what I meant.”
Marty dropped off their drinks, so quietly they barely noticed his presence. Marty knew them well, and knew when he could interrupt and when to just slip in and out like a cat in the night.
“You find out what the other party wants most in the world,” Riley said, “then give it to them.”
“That’s what my list—”
“Oh, for Pete’s sake, Finn. Women aren’t into lists and pros and cons. Hell, who is?” Then he paused. “Okay, maybe you. But not the rest of the world. Most people are driven by three needs.” He flipped out his fingers and ticked them off as he spoke. “Money, love and sex.”
Finn chuckled and shook his head. Riley’s advice made sense, in a twisted way. Hadn’t Finn done the same thing in business a hundred times? Find out what the other party wants and offer it, albeit with conditions that benefited both sides. “Let me guess. You’re driven by number three.”
“Maybe.” Riley grinned. “One of the three is what drives that pretty little blonde you met with last night. Figure out what it is she wants and give it to her.”
“Simple as that?”
Riley sat back and took a sip from his beer. “Simple as that.”
* * *
The room closed in on her, suddenly too hot, too close. Ellie stared at the woman across from her, letting the words echo in her mind. For a long time, they didn’t make sense. It was all a muddled hum of sounds, rattling around in her brain. Then the sounds coalesced one syllable at a time, into a painful reality.
“Are you sure?” Ellie asked. She had walked into this office on a bright Monday morning and now it seemed in the space of seconds, the day had gone dark.
Linda Simpson nodded. “I’m so sorry, Ellie.”
She’d know Linda for months, and in that time, Linda had become Ellie’s biggest supporter as well as a friend. All these weeks, the news had been positive.
Operative words—had been.
Ellie pressed a hand to her belly, and thought of all she had given up to be a woman in a male-dominated field. Relationships…children. Children that now she knew would never happen naturally. Adoption, the obstetrical specialist had told her, was the only option.
Maybe it was her father’s illness, or the approach of her thirtieth birthday, but lately, she’d been thinking more and more about the…quiet of her life. For years, she’d been happy living alone, making her own hours, traveling where she wanted. But in the last year or two, there’d been no louder, sadder sound than the echo of her footsteps on tile. She had no one but her father, and if the doctors were right, soon she wouldn’t even have him.
And what would she have to show for it? A few dozen houses she’d designed? Houses where other people lived and laughed and raised children and shooed dogs out of the kitchen. Houses containing the very dreams Ellie had pushed to the side.
But no more. Jiao was waiting for her, now stuck in a limbo of red tape at an orphanage in China. Jiao, an energetic two-year-old little girl with wide eyes and dark hair, and a toothy smile. Everything Ellie had dreamed of was right there, within her grasp.
Or had been, until now.
Had Ellie heard wrong? But one look at Linda Simpson’s face, lined with sympathy and regret, told Ellie this was no joke. The adoption coordinator sat behind her desk, her dark brown hair piled into a messy bun, her eyes brimming with sorrow.
“I
