Warmth curls around my heart as the tension evaporates and Joseph squeezes my hand, an act that doesn’t go unnoticed by my grandfather, who appears interested in that.
“I appreciate your truth.”
He sighs. “Mr. Ravera. I am aware of your friend’s business and haven’t got this far in mine by dealing with men like him. Like you even. I run a tight ship, all legitimate and above board, so I fail to see why agreeing to open negotiations will benefit me at all. You are holding the hand of my granddaughter, a powerful bargaining tool, and I commend you on that, but I’m also guessing you are not here solely on your friend’s behalf, and I use that term loosely. What is the real reason you engineered this meeting, and I don’t buy that it was for a friend.”
If anything, I’m impressed, and Joseph nods and turns to me with a soft smile.
“Because of Tiffany. Because she deserves answers, and you can help her with that. My negotiations on behalf of my friend were merely a coincidence. You say you prefer not to do business with a man like him. The fact that he runs a successful, legitimate business renders that statement foolish in my opinion. He will make you even richer, strengthen your ties with the Middle East and demand nothing from you otherthan your oil. You don’t strike me as the kind of man to let opportunity slide, which is why I believe you are more afraid of your weakness when dealing with men like Malik Karim. You recognize that their strength supersedes yours and fail to allow common sense to take charge.”
He shakes his head as my grandfather stares at him with a blank expression and lowers his voice.
“My business is legitimate, sir. My hobbies not so much. Any associate of mine on the legitimate side is afforded the same courtesy as you afford yours. If they drift onto the other side, they are also treated accordingly, and like me, Mr. Karim respects the boundary. You have made it perfectly clear that you stand firmly on the legitimate side and as businessmen first, we respect that. So, there will be no recriminations, merely a gold-lined handshake for any dealings with either of us.”
Joseph drops his hand from mine and says simply, “I will be outside admiring the magnificent artwork while you conduct your meeting with Tiffany. I have fulfilled my request, and I hope that when Mr. Karim calls, you will accept his offer of a meeting at least. That is all I want, which is a small price to pay, wouldn’t you agree, for time with your granddaughter. Or, as she is now, my wife.”
My grandfather stares at my hand, and his expression darkens as he understands the situation perfectly. As Joseph strides confidently from the room, he doesn’t look back. As the guards close ranks and shut the rest of the world out, it’s just me and my grandfather—alone at last.
CHAPTER 23
TIFFANY
This is awkward. I’ve never even met my grandfather before, let alone sitting in a room with no distractions.
He is unsure. I can sense that, and as I wrestle with my fingers, he sighs heavily beside me.
“I am pleased to say you are nothing like your mother—in appearances, anyway.”
“Why does that please you?”
“Because it gives me hope.”
“In what way?”
I’m curious because that wasn’t exactly the first thing I’d thought he’d say, and he exhales slightly, the tension sitting between us rather strange.
“Because you resemble your grandmother, Eden, and she was the kindest, most beautiful woman I have ever met, both inside and out.”
“Was?”
I detect the sadness in his voice.
“She died several years ago.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
I really am because I will never get to meet her, which is a big gap to fill in my life.
“She died of a heart attack brought on by an undetected faulty valve. It was immediate and fatal, and she never got to suffer, which I’m grateful for.”
“Me too.”
His small sigh tells of his deep sadness, and he whispers almost to himself, “Your mother was always more like me. Hard, cruel to a degree and always searching for the next opportunity.”
“You don’t speak very highly of yourself.”
“So you know your mother then.”
His attempt at humor doesn’t fit the occasion, and I ask, “What was, sorry, is she like?”