“Then I do not see the problem.”
He wasn’t going to support her? Greer’s heart sank. “Vader, please. I don’t like him. I don’t want to be around him.”
“This is business, Greer. Whether we like someone or not has no bearing on our ability to work with them. He is the best man I have chosen for the wedding, and my proxy, and I expect you to work with him accordingly.”
“He’s a problem,” she blurted. “Vader, please.”
“You are an adult, Greer. If you have a problem with him, tell him.” And he hung up.
Shocked, Greer let her phone fall from her ear. She should have guessed that her father wouldn’t have her back. Stijn Janssen was all about his own personal comfort, and she’d known that ever since she could remember. Still . . . she’d hoped.
Greer squared her shoulders. All right, then. If this was her problem to solve, she’d solve it. She went through the settings on her phone, unblocked Asher’s number, and then sent him a text.
Greer: We need to talk somewhere private and hash out our situation.
Before she could even put her phone away, his response dinged.
Asher: You name the time and place and I’ll be there.
She looked around her. Tiffi and Bunni were still toying with the flowers, and Kiki was on the deck out by the pool, sunning herself. Combine those three with a staff full of nosy servants (a few of whom she was pretty sure were leaking info to the tabloids), and there was no privacy at the Dutchman castle. Not here, then. She didn’t want to meet him at his hotel room, either. That would give him too much control.
They needed neutral territory. But where?
***
Asher checked his phone and then the map app to make sure he was at the right place. Yup. Botanical Garden at the Springs Preserve. Kinda random, but wherever she wanted him, he’d be there. He strolled in from the parking lot, straightening his suit. The place was deserted, but that was no surprise given the heat of the day. Vegas in summer was hellish at best.
The gardens were full of cactuses and palm trees, and he strolled down the stone paths looking for a tiny, dark woman with a big ponytail. When he spotted a familiar figure near the rose trellises, he headed in that direction. His steps had a bit of anticipation to them; maybe his flowers had softened her anger. Maybe they’d inspired her and that’s why they were meeting here.
When he rounded the corner and saw Greer’s stony face, he thought maybe not. That was the look of a pissed woman if there ever was one.
“You look nice,” he told her as he approached. She did, actually. Despite the heat, she was wearing a buttoned-up pale green cardigan that made her dusky skin seem luminescent and a pair of khaki capris with wedges. For some reason, that demure outfit got him all hot and bothered to the point that he felt the urge to stick his hands in his slacks pockets and furtively adjust himself. What was it about Greer’s modest clothing that made him want to touch her even more? Was it because he was the only one who knew what was under those layers?
Whatever it was, he might have been the only man in Vegas to get an erection at the sight of a cardigan. He didn’t care. She was beautiful, and she’d be his again if he had anything to say about it.
“We need to talk,” Greer said stiffly. She pushed her big glasses up on her nose and then gestured at one of the nearby benches lining the walk. “Sit. I have a lot to say.”
He sat. He might have also sprawled his legs a little and put his arm on the back of the bench so it’d force her to be closer in proximity to him. A dick move, but he couldn’t resist. She was just . . . delicious.
How had he been blind for so long?
She tucked a tendril of stray hair back behind her ear and frowned at him. “Don’t look so pleased to be here. I still hate you.”
“I don’t hate you,” he countered. “And just seeing you convinces me that I need to figure out how to make you like me again.”
She arched an eyebrow at him. “Don’t flirt with me. I know where that ends up, and it’s not a place I ever want to be again.”
Where that ends up? Her words baffled him but he’d play along. “Go on.”
“My father wants to pull off a ridiculous wedding in the next month,” she said bluntly. “A normal wedding takes a year to coordinate, and he wants this one done in weeks. It’s going to take all of my time and my resources just to try and stay on track, provided my health holds up.” Her hand touched her lightly rounded stomach.
His own stomach felt as if it dropped into his shoes. “Your health? Is there something wrong with the baby?”
“You needn’t look so worried,” Greer said dryly. “I was just referring to morning sickness. It was brutal for the first few weeks but it seems to have passed. Don’t pretend to be concerned for my sake.”
For some reason, that pissed him off. “Just because I was a drunk fuckhead doesn’t mean I don’t care what happens to you or the baby. Jesus, Greer. Give a man some credit.”
Her eyes went wide and owl-like behind her glasses. She fidgeted and straightened them nervously, then nodded. “You’re right. That was unfeeling of me. I’m sorry.” Her mouth curved into an awkward smile. “My example of fatherhood has been Stijn, so you’ll have to forgive me if I don’t have much faith in men.”
No wonder she was quick to assume the worst. Stijn was a cold bastard, and he couldn’t imagine the man in any sort of fatherly role. “Forgiven. Go on.”
She clasped her hands in her lap, looking for all the world as if she were about to beg. “What I brought you here to say is that I think you should back out of the wedding.”