A Very Exclusive Engagement(10)

Three

Liam had just stepped from his shower when he heard his cell phone ringing. The tune, “God Save the Queen,” made him cringe. Had he told his great aunt Beatrice he was in Manhattan? She must’ve found out somehow.

He wrapped his towel around his waist and dashed into his bedroom where the phone was lying on the comforter. The words “Queen Bee” flashed on the screen with the photo of a tiara. His aunt Beatrice would not be amused if she knew what the rest of the family called her.

With a sigh, he picked up the phone and hit the answer key. “Hello?”

“Liam,” his aunt replied with her haughty Upper East Side accent. “Are you all right? I was told you were trapped in an elevator all afternoon.”

“I’m fine. Just hungry, but I’m about to—”

“Excellent,” she interrupted. “Then you’ll join me for dinner. There’s an important matter I need to discuss with you.”

Liam bit back a groan. He hated eating at Aunt Beatrice’s house. Mostly because of having to listen to her go on and on about the family and how irresponsible they all were. But even then, she liked them all more than Liam because they kissed her derrière. And that was smart. She was worth two billion dollars with no children of her own to inherit. Everyone was jockeying for their cut.

Everyone but Liam. He was polite and distant. He didn’t need her money. Or at least he hadn’t until the ANS deal came up and he didn’t have enough liquid assets to buy a majority stake quickly. Other people also were interested in the company, including leeches like Ron Wheeler, who specialized in hacking businesses to bits for profit. To move fast, Liam had had to swallow his pride and ask his aunt to invest in the remaining shares of ANS that he couldn’t afford. Together, they had controlling interest of the company, and by designating her voting powers to him, Aunt Beatrice had put Liam in charge.

Liam had every intention of slowly buying her out over time, but he wouldn’t be able to do so for quite a while. So now, at long last, Aunt Beatrice had something to hold over his head. And when she snapped, for the first time in his life, he had to jump.

“Dinner is at six,” she said, either oblivious or unconcerned about his unhappy silence on the end of the line.

“Yes, Aunt Beatrice. I’ll see you at six.”

After he hung up the phone, he eyed the clock and realized he didn’t have long to get over to her Upper East Side mansion in rush hour traffic. He’d do better to walk, so he needed to get out the door soon.

It was just as well that Francesca had turned down his dinner date so he didn’t have to cancel. That would’ve pained him terribly, even after knowing what she’d called him.

“Son of a pig farmer,” he muttered to himself as he got dressed.

He opted for a gray suit with a pale purple dress shirt and no tie. He hated ties and only wore them when absolutely necessary. Today, he’d felt like he needed to look important and in control at the board meeting. He didn’t want the ANS directors to think they were in the hands of a laid-back dreamer. But as soon as he had a strong foothold in the company, the ties would be gone.

Tonight, he left it off simply because he knew to do so would aggravate Aunt Beatrice. She liked formal dress for dinner but had given up long ago on the family going to that much trouble. She did, however, still expect a jacket and tie for the men and a dress and hosiery for the ladies. It was only proper. Leaving off the tie would be a small but noted rebellion on his part. He didn’t want her to think she had him completely under her thumb.

It wasn’t until he rang the doorbell that he remembered her mentioning something about an important issue she wanted to discuss. He couldn’t imagine what it could be, but he sincerely hoped it didn’t involve him dating someone’s daughter. Aunt Beatrice was single-minded in her pursuit of marriage and family for Liam. He couldn’t fathom why she cared.

“Good evening, Mr. Crowe,” her ancient butler Henry said as he opened the door.

Henry had worked for his aunt Liam’s entire life and a good number of years before that. The man was in his seventies now but as spry and chipper as ever.

“Good evening, Henry. How is she tonight?” he asked, leaning in to the elderly man and lowering his voice.

“She’s had a bee in her bonnet about something all afternoon, sir. She made quite a few calls once the power was restored.”

Liam frowned. “Any idea what it’s about?”