the man living in the two-million-dollar condo.” Minka shook her head. “How about your place at Sea Cliff?”
“Don’t like it.”
Minka gasped. “Says the man living in the four-million-dollar house!”
“All right, then.” Qasim smiled indulgently. “I admit I just don’t want the aggravation of it. There’s a certain convenience in not using your own place as the venue. Besides, neither of those places is right for accommodating that many people for a long weekend, hence the reason I always use hotels for this.”
Qasim’s midyear charity event was a highly anticipated gathering that benefited the summer camps he held each year for deserving high school football players. Thanks to the funds raised by Qasim’s Wilder Warriors Foundation, deserving students and senior athletes were able to receive all-expenses-paid educations following graduation.
Qasim watched his assistant, who didn’t seem to be in full agreement with his reasoning. “Hell, Mink, are the rates that bad?”
“I believe so. Yes.” She waved toward the folder he studied. “The venues we have in mind are even more outrageous than usual.”
Although Qasim wasn’t above paying any cost to fund his events, Minka saw to it that her boss’s generous heart didn’t bankrupt him. Her policy was to see to it that all charity expenses were paid from charity money allotted for such spending instead of directly from Qasim’s personal accounts. She had successfully made that happen since the onset of Qasim’s goodwill endeavors.
“The rates aren’t deal breakers, but...”
“So go for it,” Qasim urged.
“It’s just—”
“Are the expense accounts well-funded?”
“More than. Only...” Minka trailed off, watching Qasim reach for a pen to sign the documents up for debate.
He smiled, noticing that his efficient assistant had already included a drafted document for the legal department to review regarding Will Lloyd’s decision-making authority for the foundation.
“Very nice,” he commented upon scanning the page.
Minka slipped off the sofa arm and took a bow. “Thanks and for my next feat, I’ll get things straightened out between you and Vectra.”
The easy expression Qasim was working to maintain began to waver. He clenched a fist and groaned. “I don’t think there’s any trick that good.”
“Sim—”
“I appreciate the effort, but there’s a lot you don’t know. It’s not my place to discuss it.”
“So you deny going after the woman you love and deny any other man the chance to go after her.”
Qasim shuffled through papers on his desk without really seeing them. “I don’t want to think about it.”
Minka walked over and took the folder from his desk. “She may not give you a choice.” Waving the folder, she turned on her heel. “I’ll get this finished.”
Qasim fixed his gaze on the fist he’d clenched before he slammed it onto his desk.
* * *
Vectra had never been one to take hints exceptionally well. She usually had to be hit right in the face with something before she got wise to the situation. She couldn’t help but think that was the case now. His words and demeanor were giving off the distinct impression that there was someone else.
Boy, wasn’t that the literal truth, she thought while speeding down the winding dirt road leading to Carro.
Named for Vectra’s parents Oscar and Rose Bauer, Carro was a remarkably breathtaking wine-country estate in Saint Helena, California. It was Vectra’s home and her oasis—a place for rejuvenation and meditation. A place to hide? She shook off that difficult truth and then thought, What the hell? So what if she wanted to hide? It was time to retreat a little.
She’d had her fill of humiliation. Qasim Wilder was a man who didn’t want to be friends with her. Fair enough. Fair enough. Only... Well, jeez, he had to know she wanted more than that. She should’ve told him so long ago. Now, she was happy that she hadn’t. Humiliating, indeed, once he had given her such a polite brush-off. Of course, there may not have been someone else had she not been too much of a coward to tell him that she’d wanted their friendship to take a more beneficial turn.
Vectra parked her luxury crossover a short distance from the turnoff leading to the main house. Leaving the vehicle, she walked a few feet to the wooden fencing that marked the entrance to Carro’s lush vineyards.
Unmindful of her pumps, Vectra propped a foot on one of the planks that constructed the massive fencing. Resting her elbows on the top plank, she bowed her head and made a weak attempt at working the kinks from her neck. She inhaled, at once comforted by the fragrant air kissed by the plump, sweet fruit that clustered about vibrant green vines.
The Carro land had been in Vectra’s mother’s family for centuries. Rose was a descendent of the Pomo Tribe, one of several Native American tribes that called Sonoma home. Rose had come from a family that understood the value of their land and defended their right to keep it.
That very land had been the dowry Rose Wolf had brought with her when she met and married Oscar Bauer, a young African-American agriculture consultant who had been making a name for himself among area farmers. He’d brought his skills from the North Carolina farm country he’d called home. In time, he built a respected business that thrived and diversified once he and his wife joined forces to cultivate the property.
The Bauers had managed to cultivate more than a respected vineyard for themselves and their surrounding neighbors. They’d cultivated what many would call an enchanted life for their two children. Vectra never had a shortage of friends, primarily the children of the adults who worked her family’s land.
It had been Vectra’s athletic, outdoorsy personality that had brought her more male than female playmates.
“Right...” Vectra inhaled deeply, willing the air to work more of its magic on her mood. “Outdoorsy, yes. Athletic... Not so much now,” she criticized herself, but felt comforted by the fact that she still had her friends. At least, she considered them friends. Qasim obviously disagreed.
The visit to his office had gone nothing like she’d planned. For weeks, she’d wanted to confront him about withdrawing from their relationship, but had resisted the urge. Discovering the way he’d threatened one of their friends had given her courage to confront him. She’d hoped to get him to tell her why he’d done it and in turn spark a discussion about what more could exist between them.
Sadly, the conversation had derailed and she had no idea how to get it back on track. At least she’d gotten out of there without making an even greater fool of herself. He’d met someone. Someone he was interested in being more than friends with.
A horn honked and she looked back, a sunny grin appearing when she spotted the Jeep behind her car and the man inside. She waited, watching her brother hop out from the driver’s side.
Oliver Bauer glanced at her
