The Carrero Solution (Carrero Book 3)

The dress is spectacular, as are the shoes he bought with it. Like a good little girl, I don’t attempt any sort of rejection when he brings the boxes in from the car with the sweetest expression on his face. He looks almost boyish and a little excited.

Jake’s gone all out, bringing me home a complete outfit. I’m standing in a full-length, dark plum, figure-hugging dress studded with sheer Swarovski crystals across its full-length and fuller skirt. My shoulders are exposed from its crisscross bodice style, ending in low cap sleeves off the shoulder, and my cleavage is almost bursting forth. Lately, my bust has gotten a little larger, and I’m sure Jake won’t mind one bit. My feet are encased in low-heeled satin plum shoes because since I found out I was pregnant, he refused to let me wear my sexy heels, which is another argument still not done with, and then, of course, there’s the underwear. Sexy underwear; I am glad to see he at least thinks about sex, even if he’s not giving it to me.

He’s been very mysterious about the dinner plans all day

and now trussed up like a red-carpet movie star, I’m starting to wonder why we need to be so formal. Jake’s in a tux

of all things, but I don’t remember any mention of any

sort of event or dance. Jake avoids tuxedos like the plague

if he can help it.

* * *

The restaurant is gorgeous, as is the appearance of Sylvana on Giovanni’s arm and Arrick with Sophie in tow, looking sweetly cute together; even Leila is with us as we all walk to the pre-booked table near the back of the grand room. I assume this may be related to the Carrero Corporation, but it’s just odd that Jake would be so elusive about the details.

This place exudes money, every table delicately set with lily centerpieces and crisp white tablecloths under a ceiling of grand chandeliers and fairy light nets. The color scheme is opulent reds, mauves, and a lot of gold, with sparkling crystals everywhere. There are tables and tables of richly dressed diners with an orchestra playing soft music and a booth set up for a DJ in another corner. The floor in the middle is a dance floor; there must be some dancing or entertainment after dinner.

The old me would’ve felt so out of her depth in a place like this, even as Jake’s PA, but I walk with my head held high on the arm of the most gorgeous man in here, with the handsome Carrero family, and I can’t help but feel proud. I feel like I belong with them and not out of place in the dress Jake chose for me. It isn’t Donna’s style of clothing to choose for me, so I’m sure Jake has chosen this himself, which is more than a little sweet. He always had good taste for a man.

When we’re shown to our table, I realize there are more familiar faces from Carrero Corp dotted around. I spot Margo with her husband waving at me. I flush as an inner panic starts to creep up. I swear there’s a red head of hair behind her that could possibly be Wilma. Even if this is a Carrero thing or some charity event, we’re so far outside Manhattan that I wouldn’t expect to see them here.

Why are we surrounded by people that shouldn’t be here in the Hamptons?

I glance at Jake and spot veiled nervousness hinting across his face that he’s so desperately trying to hide and that his sculpted body seems a little too rigid in his tux, even for him. Jake is never nervous at events, and a sickening lurch connects the dots almost instantly. Out of the corner of my eye, I catch a couple trying to usher their way out of sight through the shadows and realize it’s Sarah and Marcus. They’re trying to hide from me, and I freeze.

Oh, my God. Sarah and Marcus? They wouldn’t be at a Carrero event.

Oh, shit … Oh shit!

I know what he’s doing. It hits me like a lightning bolt out of the dark with rather painful ferocity. He bought me a pretty dress he chose by himself and assembled everyone in one of the most beautiful restaurants in this town. He’s gathered together people I know, people that matter to him and me regardless of the costs. He has my best friend trying to hide before she lets the cat out of the bag, and I’m sure if I check the sea of faces, I’ll recognize more and more people.

I catch sight of Daniel moving in from the side under cover of shadow, and he slides into a seat beside Margo, throwing her a smile, and I suddenly feel sick and breathless. Daniel most definitely doesn’t show face at corporate things. He never has. He always says it’s not his thing and bores him to tears.

Warning bells are going off inside my head, and that flight or fight impulse has my feet itching to head for the nearest exit. I tighten my grip on Jake’s arm for security and a sense of calm. My heart is pounding erratically through my chest, palms clammy, my body turning cold with fear. He covers my hand with his, a grounding sensation that I’m aching for, but I’m still in panic mode and can almost feel the tension radiating from him. That’s why his touch isn’t working right now because Jake’s more scared than I am, and he’s transferring it rather than taking mine away. My strong, calm, and in-control Carrero is now adjusting his collar as though it’s choking him and tilting his neck from side to side in a massive show of uncharacteristic nerves.

Fuck!

“Are you okay?” He looks completely terrified as his eyes meet mine. His beautiful gorgeous face looking about fifteen years old and completely out of his depths. I swallow hard, willing him just to stop, stop whatever his head has planned, and whatever I think. The last thing I need is for him to look so goddamn out of his depth, making me feel like I’m suffocating.

Don’t hurt him, Emma. Don’t do this to him after everything. Just look at him and breathe. Steady breaths, and remember how much you love him.

The fear gripping me holds at his eye contact, and I find the inner courage to slowly slide it further down inside me, gripping with fingernails to keep control. I hold still, trying not to portray my feelings on my face in case he sees it, and paste a smile on my mouth, loosening my death grip on his arm.

I can’t ruin this for him. I can’t hurt him again after everything we’ve been through. I just need to pretend I don’t know and pray I don’t freak when he finally gets on one knee.

“Yeah, just a little overwhelmed with all this grandeur.” I smile, maintaining a steady voice with a stoic effort, and he relaxes a little. I draw on all my old PA Emma abilities to be emotionless, even under extreme pressure. He’s studying me a little too closely, so I stretch up and kiss him quickly, making him kiss me properly and deeply, trying to remove any doubts about what I know. It seems to do the trick, and he relaxes a little, all flickers of question smoothing from that beautiful brow and back to just a rather bad case of nerves. I squeeze his arm in a bid to calm him and really, to calm myself … a lot.

Count to ten, breathe. Focus on Jake, on just him and how much he loves you.

When we’re shown to our table, Jake suddenly seems listless, and his fidgeting demeanor hits full force, moving his glass from hand to hand and back to the table, avoiding eye contact when he has me seated beside him. He tenses and keeps looking out of the huge windows behind us as though checking for something. He impulsively picks up the drink they just laid beside him and downs it in one go, which is never a good sign or move for him. His hands raking through that immaculate hair, trying to sit still. He is all over the place and unraveling in front of me; this is not the version of him I have ever known. Jake is always so effortlessly in control publicly, so his behavior makes me even more uptight.

He smiles at me, but I know it’s pasted on and

disingenuous. His eyes flicker to the side until he spots something, then excuses himself with a peck on my cheek

in a hurried fashion. I watch as he almost drags Daniel

out of his seat in passing, they disappear through a door near the side exit, which takes you further into this grand hotel restaurant. Leaving me alone only makes me a hundred times worse.

My heart is pounding through my chest. The people around me are chatting and smiling my way, even Sylvana is trying to draw me into a conversation, but my eyes are scouring the room for Sarah. She’s obviously been told to stay out of sight until the big moment. I have no idea what to do with myself. I don’t even know if I’m angry at what he’s doing so publicly or if I want it this way, and I’m just terrified. I can’t even voice my fear because I’m not supposed to know what this is. I can only sit here, curling up the napkin in front of me, counting as I breathe, trying to quell the panic that has every nerve ending on high alert.

I have no clue how to feel or why I even feel this way. All the old inner Emma instincts are to run and hide, but the new Emma is holding me in my seat, all battling inside of my head with fears and reasoning, weighing up pros and cons, making my head ache.

Shit, crap, fuck. Breathe. Breathe. I can do this. I already said yes. I asked him! This is just Jake needing to do it his way and give me a ring. You love him. Let it go. Let him take control in this and trust him. Trust him, Emma. Trust that he’ll always make you happy.

I find Giovanni’s eyes on me across the table. He’s watching me with a slight smirking expression, those dark, terrifying eyes unmoving as I meet his. He slowly lifts his tumbler of gin and raises it toward me, like a little toast, a hint of a smile on his face, and then in an instant, it’s gone. He turns to his wife and places a kiss on her cheek, leaving me completely dumbfounded.

What was that?

A light flush of color creeps up Sylvana’s face as he leans in to whisper in her ear, and her blush intensifies as she looks down at her hands. I’m almost shocked to see such an intimate private moment so publicly shown from him, given that I know he loathes public affection. I start to watch a little too intensely, distracting myself from my inner panic, as she slides a hand from the table down and across his flat stomach. It’s so discreet and slow, disappearing out of sight, and I can only imagine her hand in his lap. I look away quickly, almost embarrassed.

Holy crap. Sexless marriage? I think not! Jake has no clue that his parents are still having sex and naughty sex, by the looks of it. I cringe in disgust when I realize Jake takes after his father in more ways than he knows. Ughhh.

Jake has the demonstrative affection of his mother and the public loving nature. But his kinky naughty side is from his father. I wonder, seeing it now, if that cool demeanor and uncaring attitude hides a man with a lot more going on in his heart than anyone ever sees, and it dawns on me. I’m more like Giovanni than Jake is!

I have the same outwardly cool persona, reserved side with a cool demeanor, and Jake is Sylvana. Jake has greatly brought me out of myself, but he’s still the one who always initiates public displays of affection like hand-holding and kissing. I am happy to be pulled along by him, but if he’d been like his father, I would’ve been okay with that too, because I’m that way.

I clear my throat and down the glass of fresh fruit juice I’ve been served, pushing all thoughts of what my in-laws to be are doing under the table, trying to cast it very far away from my mind. Sylvana is feigning innocence, but her hand hasn’t reappeared, and Giovanni looks slightly smug now.

Ewwwww.

I notice Leila wandering around like a maniac across the currently empty dance floor. She doesn’t look so calm and controlled now, more of the aggressive and pissed variety

in her short black dress, she grabs a random man in the most aggressive manner as he approaches her.

What the hell?