The conversation wouldn’t wait. Not now. Not after Max had gone to his grandfather for details. They’d have nearly two hours in the car together to Camp Willow. That would be the perfect time, right? The time to answer questions. Spill the details. Tell Max about the Travati side of his family.
Her fingertips tingled and a sweat cooled her brow. She didn’t want to tell Max about his father or his uncles. That world … that world was too sharp and filled with teeth. Sharks circling and ripping and taking so much more than their fair share. No. She’d hoped he would enjoy an existence here at Rockwater Farms, or close to here. A quiet, lovely life, filled with family and friends and food and joy instead of the fast-paced, elbow-slugging, gladiator blood sport of business that his uncles and father lived for.
She’d witnessed their bloody battles firsthand. Watched it from the inside. Travati Finance had been her first job when she finished her MBA. Her stomach had churned at the business decisions the Travati brothers made for their own benefit. But her job was one of the most sought-after jobs in the world. At twenty-four, how could she have possibly turned her back on that opportunity?
She couldn’t.
Then there had been Justin Travati. A glorious-looking man with dark skin, golden eyes, and black hair. Power and stoicism in a package of well-heeled wealth. Her stomach clutched with the memory of his touch, but fear trailed a narrow line just beside desire. He was sexual and sensual. A man filled with a passionate need but also a fire that consumed everything in his path. There was no middle ground for Justin Travati, only consumption and the taking of anything he wanted.
He hadn’t pursued her. They’d both ignored the flames that danced between them when she worked by his side. For twelve months, the two of them skirted around the attraction that clung to them. Until one fantastic night … a night that was worth a lifetime. Because to be honest, there’d not been another night after Justin. Not one.
Instead, there was Max. Her Max. Her son, her baby whom she adored but whom she’d lived in fear would be taken from her by the Travatis should they ever learn of Max’s existence.
“Hey, sis.” Nina stood just inside the kitchen, her cooks busy with prep while she studied the seating chart and the list of guests for tonight. “We’re full for both seatings, plus we have a last-minute add. Solo diner. Times critic called to get them in.”
Aubrey glanced at the chart of the dining room that lay on the counter. “That’s a good thing. Maybe a critic or a food writer. Especially if the Times called to get them a spot.” She scanned the menu. Nearly every item came from their own stock at Rockwater Farms. The beef was raised here, the pork, the lamb, the chicken. The cheeses were made in-house. The bread. The fruits and vegetables from their own outdoor garden and greenhouse. They’d created a business of which they were proud. Now if she could just get the business to be consistent. They were still up and down and trying to pay off start-up costs nearly fourteen years after they’d begun Rockwater.
Aubrey walked to her office. “I won’t be here to go over repeat diners, menu, and service. Plus tomorrow we start prep for the Simmons wedding next weekend.” She glanced at the calendar that hung beside a whiteboard inside her office and contained the elements of tonight. “Max needs to be at Camp Willow by three and then by the time we unload and he gets settled”—her chest tightened and heat built behind her eyes—“but I’ll be here for late service.”
Nina turned her gaze on Aubrey. “Have you talked to him yet?”
A heaviness settled in Aubrey’s chest. Her baby sister knew her well. “I thought the car ride.”
“Better get it done. You don’t want him up there for two weeks obsessing about this information. With the Internet, he’s probably already found out just exactly who Justin Travati is.”
Aubrey crossed her arms and shrugged one shoulder. “He wasn’t on the computer this morning. We’ve been packing.”
“For such a smart lady, you’re kind of naive. He has a phone. He has Internet wherever he goes.” Nina marked through the list on the whiteboard. She looked at Aubrey. “Seriously, sis, he’s not five. He’s starting high school. Just because we live out in the middle of nowhere doesn’t mean he doesn’t know what’s going on in the world. He has friends, he goes to school. If Dad told Max his father’s name—”
“He did. Dad did.”
“Then I suggest you get on it.” Nina placed the cap back on the marker. “I’m not certain what kind of reaction I’d have if I found out my father was a billionaire and I was the only living heir and”—her eyes narrowed on Aubrey—“my mother had purposely kept all that information away from me for my entire life.”