Chapter 9

DAKOTA

THE DAYS began to speed by with stunning swiftness, blurring into each other like passing box cars on a freight train. On Friday, Sam accompanied me to the doctor. An exam confirmed that I was seven weeks pregnant. Immediately after the appointment, Sam caught a flight to Tokyo to meet with Mr. Takashima. The Japanese investor had agreed to supply us with a temporary infusion of capital that would allow the acquisition of Langston & Howe. Sam intended to parcel out the company and already had buyers for their assets. We were well on our way to a successful run, a fact that filled me with pride. He’d faced adversity and kicked its ass.

The following Tuesday, Venetia stopped by the office, James in tow. He stood outside my office door alongside Chandler, crowding the hallway. Having a bodyguard still rubbed me the wrong way.

“I’ve found the perfect place.” Venetia breezed through the door and dropped into the chair across from my desk, crossing her long legs between us.

“Hmm…okay. Get with Layla. Maybe I can drop by there tomorrow.” I frowned at the computer screen, distracted by research on a potential acquisition.

“Not tomorrow. Today.” Her voice carried the Seaforth tone of authority. “We need to go see it right away. It won’t be on the market for long.” She leaned forward, stirring up the scent of peaches and jasmine. The linen of her dress whispered with the movement. When I didn’t respond, she tapped a finger on the desk. “Hello?”

“Really?” I sighed and leaned back in my chair to give her my full attention. “Beckett’s going to kick my ass if I don’t get this information to him today.”

“Don’t you worry about Beckett. I’ll take care of him.” Her long, blond ponytail twitched as she snorted. She drew the end over her shoulder and smoothed her fingers along the glossy tresses. “Believe me, condos like this don’t come along every day. The only reason I know about it is because Helena staged it for the sale. I thought of you guys the minute I stepped inside the door.”

“Where’s Jane today?”

“She’s with Quinn, our nanny.” Venetia bit her lower lip as she tapped a text into her phone. It dinged with an immediate reply. “Good. That’s Helena. She’ll meet us there with the keys.”

“I thought you hated nannies.”

“I don’t hate nannies. I hate parents who use them as a replacement for parenting. The way mine did.” She stood and leveled intense long-lashed eyes with mine. “Jane will never feel like that. She’ll always know I love her more than the air I breathe. Quinn is only around to help ease a little of the burden while I attend to other things. Most of the time, they’ll both be with me, but I had a few errands to run today, and Jane was asleep, so I left her at home.”

“We’re considering a nursery here at the office. What would you think about that?” I powered down my computer then called Layla. “Have Rockwell bring the car, would you? And tell Mr. Beckett that I’m going out with Venetia for a bit.” No matter how many times I requested the car, I still hadn’t grown accustomed to having a driver at my beck and call.

“Oh, a nursery would be excellent.” V clapped her hands together. “I could send Jane here with Beckett. I’d still keep Quinn, though. She’s cool.”

An hour later, we pulled in front of the most exclusive co-op in the city. The property broker, a svelte middle-aged woman with a sleek platinum bob, greeted us at the front doors. After a lengthy process to pass through security, we rode the elevator to the top floor. Venetia laughed when my mouth gaped open. I snapped it shut and tried to absorb the numerous architectural features in the private lobby. A waterfall cascaded down the granite wall adjacent to the elevator. An opulent crystal chandelier sparkled from the top of a twenty-foot glass atrium. She stopped in front of an enormous pair of double wood doors covered with rivets.

“The doors are from a medieval monastery in France,” the broker said, following the focus of my gaze. “This condo has two stories and close to eight thousand square feet. Five bedrooms, seven bathrooms, a library, an office, and a den for Sam. There’s a private pool on the roof and an exercise room. A separate entrance for servants and staff. There are two small adjoining suites for security and a housekeeper.” She flourished a hand through the air like a game show host. “And this is just the lobby.”

“It’s nice,” I whispered in awe.

“Nice?” She arched an eyebrow. “Two-bedroom bungalows are nice. This is perfect. The location is unparalleled, the schools are top notch, and this place is locked up like Fort Knox, which means no media.” She pushed the doors. They opened to reveal soaring archways and tall columns in a warm Mediterranean style.

Wood moldings and paneling, coffered ceilings, and terrazzo tile covered every surface. We wandered through a great room, large kitchen, and the bedrooms. Inside the master bedroom, she pressed a button to draw back the blinds and expose a wall of windows facing Laurel Lake. Sunlight shimmered over the calm surface. The azure waters reflected a cloudless sky.

Venetia tugged me aside, her face bright with excitement. “What do you think?”

“I think it’s amazing, but I don’t know.”

“Don’t know? Seriously?” She perched on the edge of a tufted bench at the foot of the bed. “Sam will love it.”

The broker opened the doors to the bathroom and revealed a bathtub the size of a small swimming pool. “If you like it, you need to move on it right away. It goes on the market tomorrow, and it won’t last a day.” 

“How much?” I finally managed to ask and braced for disappointment.

“It’s a steal at six point two million.”

“No way.” The pit of my stomach fell. I shook my head. “We can’t afford this.” I couldn’t imagine living in anything so grand, let alone spending such an exorbitant amount of money. I’d grown up in a house trailer and lived most of my adult life in the same tiny apartment. 

The broker frowned and glanced at Venetia. “I thought you said she’s a qualified buyer.”

“Of course she’s qualified. She’s a Seaforth.” Venetia returned the woman’s scowl then winked in my direction. “She just wants to know she’s getting her money’s worth.”

“Are you crazy?” I asked Venetia, in a tone low enough to exclude the broker. “We’re trying to save up. Sam says we’re broke.”

Venetia rolled her eyes and sighed, as if I’d tried her patience to the limit. “Don’t be ridiculous. Sammy’s got enough money to buy ten houses like this and never miss the cash. You need to face facts. You married old money. You’re one of us now, and we’ve got a standard to uphold. Sam isn’t going to want to bring up his kids in anything less than a beautiful home.” It was the first time anyone from Sam’s family had recognized my membership in their family. I gave Venetia’s hand a quick squeeze and swallowed down the thickness in my throat. “Don’t go getting all mushy on me. You’ve treated me better than my own sister.” She hopped to her feet. “So what’s your thought?”

“I don’t know.” I trailed a hand over the textured plaster wall, its surface painted a buttery ochre hue.

“Well, I do. If you’re going to play with the big dogs, you need a big doghouse. Appearances count to people with money. It’s all a game about who’s got the biggest toy chest. They’re going to look at what you’ve got and judge whether or not you’re worthy of their business by who you know and where you live. Sam requires a place to wine and dine his business partners. You can’t entertain in a one-bedroom apartment.” She tugged the hem of her dress as she preened in front of a tall mirror. “I’m just trying to help you out here, Dakota. You’ve got to step up your game if you’re going to succeed.”

Ever since I met Sam, people had been telling me how he felt, what he wanted, and how to accommodate his needs. If I’d learned anything from our divorce, it was this. No one knew better about Sam’s desires than Sam. I refused to be swayed in one direction or the other without his direct input.

“Are you getting a kickback on this commission?” I asked her.

“No.” Deep dimples appeared on either side of her mouth. “But I do expect an invitation to dinner from you once in a while.”

“Okay, give me a minute.” I dug through my purse for my phone.

“I’ll give you some privacy.” The broker glided out of the room.

“I’m going to call Quinn and see how she’s doing with Jane,” Venetia said. “Meanwhile, you stay in here and think about how grand it would be to wake up to that view every morning with my hunky brother beside you.”

Sam answered on the first ring. “Go.” His staccato greetings came off as gruff to some, but not to me. He didn’t like to waste time with fluffy words. I stared at the phone in shock, surprised to actually contact him on the first call.

“Hey. Venetia found a place for us.” I recovered and plunged into the topic of conversation, knowing he’d appreciate the directness. “A condo, on Laurel Lake.”

“You like it?” Various airport noises hummed in the background; voices, an intercom, the thunder of jets.

“Yes. It’s perfect, I just—” 

“Then get it.”

“But you haven’t even seen it.”

“Text me pictures. Xavier, call the hotel and find out what’s holding them up.” The sharp edges of his voice softened—the tender tone he reserved for me. Waves of pleasure buzzed through my nerve endings. “Sorry. We’re waiting on a ride from the airport. Damn paparazzi are everywhere today.” He cleared his throat. “I’ll be home next week for that gala thing. In the meantime, if you like the apartment, buy it. I trust you, baby. Anything you want.”