not quite.
It would take more than her two brothers finding marital bliss to erase the memory of their father’s numerous indiscretions.
It wasn’t just the affairs. It was the way he’d made no effort whatsoever to hide them from their mother. He’d expected her to accept it. To smile and look away. And she had.
Right up until the day she died.
She’d been just forty years old when Diana found her lifeless body on the living room floor. Still young, still beautiful. The doctors had been baffled. They’d been unable to find a reason for her sudden heart attack. But to Diana, the reason was obvious.
Her mother had died of a broken heart.
Was it any wonder she thought marriage was a joke? She was beyond screwed up when it came to relationships. How damaged must she have been to intentionally throw herself at a man who was famous for treating women as if they were disposable?
Diana squeezed her eyes shut.
Why did Franco have to come strutting back into her life now, while she was her most vulnerable? Before her accident, she could have handled him. She could have handled anything.
She opened her eyes. “Please, Artem. I just really, really don’t want to do this.”
He nodded. “I see. You’d rather spend all day, every day, slaving away in Engagements than attend a few parties with Franco. Understood. Sorry I brought it up.”
He waved a hand toward the dreaded Engagements showroom down the hall. “Go ahead and get to work.”
Diana didn’t move a muscle. “Wait. Are you saying that if I play the part of Franco’s fake girlfriend by night, I won’t have to peddle engagement rings by day?”
She’d assumed her position in Engagements was still part of the plan. This changed things.
She swallowed. She still couldn’t do it. She’d never last a single evening in Franco’s company, much less twenty-one of them.
Could she?
“Of course you wouldn’t have to do both.” Artem gestured toward the newspapers spread across his desk. “This would be a job, just like any other in the company.”
She narrowed her gaze and steadfastly refused to look at the picture again. “What kind of job involves going to black-tie parties every night?”
“Vice president of public relations. I did it for years. The job is yours now, if you want it.” He smiled. “You asked me to find something else for you to do, remember? Moving from the sales floor to a VP position is a meteoric rise.”
When he put it that way, it didn’t sound so bad. Vice president of public relations sounded pretty darn good, actually.
Finally. This was the kind of opportunity she’d been waiting for. She just never dreamed that Franco Andrade would be part of the package.
“I want a pay increase,” she blurted.
What was she doing?
“Done.” Artem’s grin spread wide.
She wasn’t seriously considering accepting the job though, was she? No. She couldn’t. Wouldn’t. No amount of money was worth her dignity.
But there was one thing that might make participating in the farce worthwhile...
“And if it works, I want to be promoted.” She pasted on her sweetest smile. “Again.”
Artem’s brows rose. “You’re going to have to be more specific. Besides, vice president is pretty high on the food chain around here.”
“I’m aware. But this diamond gala is really important. You said so yourself.”
Artem’s smile faded. Just a bit. “That’s right.”
“If I do my part and Drake Diamonds is chosen as the jewelry house to cut the giant diamond and if everything goes off with a hitch at the Met’s diamond gala, I think I deserve to take Dalton’s place.” She cleared her throat. “I want to be named co-CEO.”
Artem didn’t utter a word at first. He just sat and stared at her as if she’d sprouted another head.
Great. She’d pushed too far.
VP was a massive career leap. She should have jumped at the opportunity to put all the love-struck brides and grooms in the rearview mirror and left it at that.
“That’s a bold request for someone with no business experience,” he finally said.
“Correct me if I’m wrong, but wasn’t vice president of public relations the only position you held at Drake Diamonds before our father died and appointed you his successor as CEO?” Did Artem really think she’d been so busy at horse shows that she had no clue what had gone on between these Drake-blue walls the past few years?
Still, what was she saying? He’d never buy into this.
He let out an appreciative laugh. “You’re certainly shrewd enough for the job.”
She grinned. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“As you should.” He sighed, looked at her for a long, loaded moment and nodded. “Okay. It works for me.”
She waited for some indication that he was joking, but it never came.
Her heart hammered hard in her chest. “Don’t tease me, Artem. It’s been kind of a rough day.”
And it was about to get rougher.
If she and Artem had actually come to an agreement, that meant she was going out with Franco Andrade tonight. By choice.
She needed to have her head examined.
“I’m not teasing. You made a valid point. I didn’t know anything about being a CEO when I stepped into the position. I learned. You will, too.” He held up a finger. A warning. “But only if you deliver. Drake Diamonds must be chosen to cut the stone and cosponsor the Met Diamond gala.”
“No problem.” She beamed at him.
For the first time since she’d fallen off her horse, she felt whole. Happy. She was building a new future for herself.
In less than a month, she’d be co-CEO. No more passing out petit fours. No more engagement rings. She’d never have to look at another copy of Bride magazine for as long as she lived!
Better yet, she wouldn’t have to answer any more questions about when she was going to start riding again. Every time she turned around, it seemed someone was asking her about her riding career. Had she gotten a new horse? Was she ready to start showing again?
Diana wasn’t anywhere close to being ready. She wasn’t sure she’d ever be ready.
Co-CEO was a big job. A huge responsibility—huge enough that it just might make people forget
