Daring to Trust the Boss. SUSAN MEIER

His head spun. First her parents had arrived and reminded him of everything he hadn’t had as a child. Then she’d bowled him over with a little close proximity and eye contact. Then bankers had turned him down. And now the owner of the company he wanted to buy was playing gin—with his assistant?

      He wasn’t sure he could handle any more surprises today.

      The Italian jumped off his chair. “Sì! It’s good to see you!”

      As Constanzo enveloped Tucker in a bear hug, Tucker caught Olivia’s gaze.

      Her face reddened and she mouthed the words, “He was hungry.”

      Constanzo released him. “Seven hours on a plane. Two hours in traffic to get here. Starvation and boredom were killing me.” He gestured to Olivia. “I hope you don’t mind that I begged your assistant to share her food with me.”

      She grimaced. “We did have leftovers.”

      His assistant had fed one of the richest men in the world cold Chinese food. Where the hell had his office dignity gone? Where was decorum?

      “Yes. I see.” He smiled at Constanzo. “I’m glad she had time for you.”

      Constanzo laughed. “I’m sure she had work, but your Vivi, she is generous.”

      One of Tucker’s eyebrows quirked. Vivi?

      Constanzo waved his arm in the direction of Tucker’s office. “Come. Let’s talk about these rumors I’m hearing that you want to buy me out.”

      Excitement obliterated his anger over the Echo deal and the emotions left over from Vivi’s parents’ visit. If Constanzo was here at his office, eager to talk about his company, it could only be because he’d made the short list of potential buyers. He motioned for Constanzo to walk before him. “Lead the way.”

      They headed for the door but Constanzo stopped suddenly. “Vivi, you come, too.”

      Olivia squirmed on her chair. “Oh, I don’t think you need me in there.”

      “Of course, we do.” He inclined his head toward the door. “Come.”

      Tucker’s eyes narrowed. He had no idea why Constanzo wanted her in the room, but one didn’t argue with a billionaire who wanted to deal. “Sure, Vivi, come.”

      Olivia smiled sheepishly and rose to follow them. Constanzo barreled ahead, but Tucker waited. Before Olivia reached the door, he caught her arm and stopped her just short of hearing distance for Constanzo. “Vivi?”

      She shrugged. “It’s my nickname. If you’d asked, I’d have let you use it, too.”

      With a roll of his eyes, he walked into his office, slid out of his jacket and sat on the sofa beside Constanzo. Vivi took the chair across from them.

      Attempting to return the room to its usual dignity and decorum, Tucker said, “I’m thrilled to have you in town.”

      “I like New York.”

      “You should keep a home here.”

      Constanzo laughed. “I intend to enjoy not traveling when I retire.”

      Tucker smiled. This was the kind of conversation he expected to have with a billionaire legend. Not a discussion about leftover Chinese food. A feeling of normalcy returned, including the urge to pounce.

      Still, he wouldn’t jump the gun. He’d continue the small talk until Constanzo brought up the subject of his conglomerate again.

      “You might try something like staying in Italy for six months and living in New York six months.”

      He waved a hand and blew out a “pfft” sound. “Retirement is supposed to be about no plans.” He stopped, smiled at Olivia, then turned his attention to Tucker. “Maria tells me you want my company.”

      “Yes, I do.”

      “I have something I want, too. If you get it for me, I will negotiate exclusively with you for my conglomerate.”

      Dumbfounded, Tucker fought a wave of shock. “So there wouldn’t be a short list? There would just be me?”

      “For a year.” Constanzo laughed. “Even you have to admit if we can’t come to terms in a year, then there is no deal. But we will negotiate fairly because I want to retire next year. You will find me amicable.”

      Fighting a feeling that this was too good to be true, or that there had to be a big, ugly catch, Tucker asked, “What do you want me to get for you?”

      “You and three others expressed interest in my company.”

      Tucker had figured as much, so he inclined his head.

      “I checked all of your financials, then hired a private investigator.”

      Not surprised by the review of his financials, but a bit put off by the P.I., Tucker said, “To see who could come up with the financing?”

      “No. To see who can bring my son home to me.”

      Tucker narrowed his eyes. This wasn’t a catch. It was a trick. “You don’t have a son. You never married. You have no children.”

      Constanzo laughed. “I see you did your homework too.”

      “We’re both smart businessmen. There’s no sense pretending we aren’t.”

      Constanzo slapped Tucker’s knee. “That’s why I like you. You’re on top of things.”

      “Yet somehow or another I missed the fact that you have a child. Either that, or you’re trying to trick me.”

      “No trick. No one knows I have a child. Thirty years ago on a very busy, very hectic day, a girlfriend approached me saying she was pregnant. Believing she only wanted money, I had her removed from my office. She never tried to contact me again.”

      Tucker sat forward. “And now suddenly you believe this woman’s claim, and you want me to find this child you’re not even sure exits?”

      “Oh, he exists.” He glanced over at Olivia. “I’ve found him. I only need you to bring him home to me.”

      “Constanzo, I—”

      “—Don’t usually get involved in personal family problems to do a business deal?” He laughed. “Is that why you took Maria to lunch on Monday and promised to do something about her annoying cousin?”

      “That was part of prying for information.”

      “That was her undercutting her cousins.”

      Tucker couldn’t argue that so he didn’t even try.

      “Antonio’s mother—the girlfriend I spoke of—died when Antonio was a baby.” He reached into his pocket, pulled out an envelope and handed it to Tucker. “He’s in Italy now, but he grew up in foster care in the U.S.”

      Tucker’s nerve endings puffed out. Foster care. The son of one of the richest men in the world had been raised by strangers. Had gone to sleep lonely. And probably grew up resenting the dad who’d abandoned him.

      Which was why Constanzo wanted Tucker to be the one to talk to him. Without even knowing Constanzo’s son, he understood him.

      “Your investigation went a lot further than I would have expected.”

      “Yes, and you should be glad because until I went back as far as I did, other candidates to buy my company looked more promising.”

      Tucker said nothing.

      Constanzo sighed. “You’re the only one of the candidates who will know how to tell my son he has a father.”

      “You’re saying he doesn’t know who you are?”

      “No. He does not.”

      “And you don’t want me to just drop in