What Are You Afraid Of? (The Agency #2)(50)

“My dad mentioned a conversation with you, Mr. Archer.”

“Griff.”

“Griff,” Baylor stiffly agreed. “My father said that you were interested in the family business.”

Griff shifted in his seat, angling forward. A subtle gesture of dominance.

“Carmen is a part of your family, whether you want to recognize her or not.”

Baylor’s fingers stopped their drumming and clenched into a fist. “She is certainly a part of the family. A most welcome part.”

Carmen rolled her eyes. “Again with the but,” she muttered.

Baylor ignored her. Was he one of those men who thought women should be seen and not heard? Or did he assume Griff was the one pressing Carmen to try to claim her inheritance?

As if he wasn’t worth billions.

“But not the business. That was created by my father out of the ruins of the original stores.” He sent a brief glance toward Carmen. “I’m afraid that there’s nothing left of your father’s inheritance.”

“And the house?” Griff demanded.

A darkness filled the hazel eyes. “It is always given to the eldest son. A feudal system, but that’s how the will was set up by my grandfather.”

Carmen didn’t need to read minds to know what her cousin thought about the house being handed over to his brother.

“So you’ll be left in the cold?” she prodded. “Just like me.”

His jaw hardened. “Someday I’ll build my own estate.”

“I’m still not sure why you insisted on this meeting,” she said, veering back on topic. So far she hadn’t learned anything of interest. Time to shake things up. “If you wanted to convince me I have no right to your money, you could have waited until Christmas lunch. Then the whole family could have all banded together to make me feel like a gold digger.”

Baylor stiffened, and then he tried to look contrite.

“I’m sorry, I’m not doing a very good job with this.”

“Maybe I shouldn’t be a job,” she pointed out. “Maybe I should just be your cousin.”

He released a heavy sigh, his expression difficult to read in the shadows of the arch.

“Carrie—”

“Carmen.”

“Carmen,” he forced himself to say. “I’m sorry. Father was worried you might be here to cause trouble and I promised that I would have a word with you. I realize now that this was all a mistake.” He studied her face, as if judging whether she was going to accept his apology. “Can we start over?”

Intent on Baylor, Carmen gave a small jump when a shadow fell over the table and a hand landed on Baylor’s shoulder.

“I can see I’m too late,” a male voice drawled. “You’ve already managed to piss everyone off, haven’t you, bro?”

Carmen glanced up at the man who’d silently appeared next to her.

Matthew Jacobs had a vague resemblance to his younger brother, but everything about him was . . . more.

His features were more finely carved, his hair was a rich mahogany and tousled in a way that made him look like some woman had just run her fingers through it. He had a shadow of whiskers on his square jaw and he was wearing a pair of faded jeans and a silver cashmere sweater. His green eyes glittered with a roguish sense of humor. But when he smiled, he abruptly reminded Carmen of a shark.

All pearly white teeth and ruthless hunger.

She shivered, wondering if it was her imagination that was causing her to look at her own family like they were dangerous animals.

“Matthew, what are you doing here?” Baylor demanded, roughly knocking his brother’s hand off his shoulder.

“Cleaning up your mess, as usual,” Matthew said, his gaze never wavering from Carmen.

“You—” Baylor halted, before he cleared his throat and attempted to disguise his obvious dislike for Matthew. “Carmen, you remember my brother?”

“Of course,” she said. “Hello, Matthew.”

“Exquisite,” he said, his gaze skimming over her face before his interest turned to the silent man at her side. “And Mr. Archer.”

“Please, call me Griff.”

“Griff,” Matthew agreed, holding out his hand. “This is quite an honor. My brother will tell you I’m not much of a businessman, but even I’ve heard of you.”

Griff rose to shake hands before sliding back into his seat, his arm moving to rest across her shoulders. She didn’t mind. Confronting her cousins was just as difficult as she’d expected it to be.

“I’m not sure if that’s good or bad,” he said.

“Good for you, and bad for me.” Matthew flashed his shark smile. “Once the word that you’re in town gets around you’ll be inundated with invitations, and I’ll be a forgotten has-been.”

“I’m not here to party,” Griff said.

Matthew shrugged. “No, according to my frantic father and bumbling brother, you’re here to steal away our fortune.”

“Matthew,” Baylor snapped, his face flushed.

Carmen broke into the looming squabble. “I assume you’ve come here to ask the same questions?”

Matthew raised a hand to press it to the center of his chest in a gesture of sincerity.