Secrets Of The A-List. Майя Блейк

be a saint. And leave my man to me. Are you going to man up and accept a little extra to give me what I need? Or are you going to keep hiding in the shadows?” she taunted.

      Gabe wasn’t sure why his hackles rose at those last words. But he was sure this conversation had gone on long enough. “Thanks for the offer, but the answer is still a hard no.”

      He heard her sharp intake of breath. “You need to think long and hard about saying no to me.” Her voice had gone from seductive to chilly. Typical entitled princess.

      “Are you threatening me?” he asked, faintly amused.

      “I’m making you aware that you won’t like the consequences very much if you don’t start seeing things my way.”

      Amusement turned into laughter. She had balls. They were tiny, but he had to give her credit nonetheless. Not very many people thought it wise to threaten the Fixer. In fact, she was probably the first.

      His breath caught as the door to Harrison’s room jerked open and his aunt walked out.

      Something about the way she held herself, her chin in the air, her spine rigid with purpose, tightened his gut. Mariella was a proud, strong woman. But the woman walking down the corridor away from him had renewed purpose. He’d missed whatever discussion had happened to put that purpose there because he’d been dealing with this pesky irritant.

      “I’m waiting for your final answer,” the woman snapped.

      All traces of mirth evaporated. “I gave it to you five minutes ago, but I don’t mind repeating myself one last time. You want your problem dealt with? I’ll deal with it. But I’ll deal with it my way and I’ll let you know when it’s done. Don’t call me again.” He stabbed the end button with a little more force than necessary. Then he set off after Mariella.

      * * *

      Predinner drinks on the patio was a perfect idea. Nothing like a warm Santa Barbara evening, enjoying the sunset over the ocean while sipping cocktails to start the next phase of her plans just right. Mariella tilted her face toward the warmth, breathed in the calm air and felt a little of the tension from the past few days since the false alarm with Harrison draining from her.

      There was still a mountain to climb before their position at the top was once again claimed, but this was a good start.

      Or it would’ve been if Rafe hadn’t been running late. Again.

      She checked her watch. Then her phone. No message.

      “Don’t worry. He’ll be here,” Gabe reassured her from his seat next to her.

      She sighed. “He was never the best timekeeper in the world, that boy.”

      “I’m guessing the nature of his work doesn’t always lend itself to precise timekeeping, Mom,” Luc sniggered.

      She pursed her lips and glared at her son. He merely rolled his shoulders, sat back on the overstuffed lounger chair and crossed his legs. A moment later, he tensed slightly, his jaw flexing.

      Mariella’s eyes narrowed as she watched him do his best not to look at the approaching housekeeper. God, she hoped this wasn’t yet another problem with her family. She knew Rachel, her son’s new fiancée, could be a bit of a handful, but surely things weren’t still tense from Elana’s wedding, were they? She hadn’t missed Rachel all but dragging her son out following the garter-removing incident. To be honest, she was a little relieved her future daughter-in-law had made her excuses for tonight in order to make a dinner date with her own mother. Mariella knew she would have to get involved with their wedding plans at some point, but for now she was content to let Rachel and her mother get on with it. She had enough on her plate.

      She sighed under breath as she watched Luc. She could really do with not having to put out another fire, albeit an insignificant one. But then that was the thing about fires...they were insignificant right up until they blew up in your face.

      Take her sister, for instance.

      As if conjured up from the darkest part of her imagination, Ana stepped out onto the patio. The sleeveless white pantsuit she wore seductively followed the lines of her perfect body, right down the feet currently adorned by fuchsia-colored heeled Ferragamo slippers that looked suspiciously familiar.

      Tension Mariella had thought had dissipated ramped up high again. The last thing she wanted to do right now was to rip into her sister for raiding her wardrobe yet again, but seriously, this was getting really old.

      “Gabriel, mi hijo, you’re looking so handsome, as usual.” Ana sat down next to Gabe and smiled fondly at her son, completely disregarding the rest of the family.

      Mariella surreptitiously massaged her temple and the tension headache threatening to drill right through to her brain stem. Elana, who’d remained just as sullen as she’d been since the hospital, barely spared her aunt a glance. Luc grew tenser as Vanessa set down the tray of cocktails the chef had prepared then began handing them out. Mariella noticed that she set Luc’s vodka tonic down on the table in front of him rather than handing it to him like she did with everyone else.

      Dios mío...

      “Where’s my drink?” Ana demanded sharply.

      Vanessa stiffened.

      Mariella glared at her sister. “She wasn’t told you would be joining us, because you didn’t think to inform us of your plans.”

      “I need to send a memo to be included in predinner drinks? Am I not a member of this family?” Ana snapped.

      Mariella gritted her teeth and hung onto her last nerve. “Since you spent all morning sunbathing and the whole afternoon sleeping, we thought you would be continuing your very leisurely regime. In bed.”

      Ana raised an eyebrow. “Are you having the staff spy on me now, Mariella?”

      “I wasn’t aware your movements in my house were a state secret.”

      Ana locked gazes with her for minute, then flipped her perfectly curled hair over her bare shoulders. “Not to worry, my beauty sleep is all topped up. I’m good to go. So—” she turned to a hovering Vanessa “—I’ll have a caipirinha with an extra twist of lime. And tell the chef not to use overripe limes, would you? The ones she made me earlier all tasted off.”

      Mariella really didn’t need to know that her sister had spent most of the day drinking. It only meant that navigating any conversation with her now would be like walking a minefield.