“How’d you know?” Brock asked.
“Just call it intuition.” Brant looked away. Clearly he was hiding something but it wasn’t the time or place to ask how or why. “So, the auction is what? A way to make everyone happy?”
“Good press.” Brock stood and began to pace the hardwood floor. “The media’s obviously going wild over the idea; we’re bringing money in for research and finally playing nice with the Titus family. We’re reminding the shareholders about how much the press loves the Wellington name and providing free publicity for the company. It shows we’re team players and that the company isn’t going to go to shit when Grandfather leaves it to us.” He paused. “All of us.”
Bentley paled, while Brant kept looking away.
Was it guilt that kept the twins silent? Or something more?
The room was thick with tension.
“Wait!” Bentley jumped to his feet. “Titus Enterprises is sponsoring the auction with us? Right?”
“And?” Brock shrugged. “Grandfather’s been pining after them for years. They’re basically our counterpart, only the grandsons have actually settled down and made something of themselves, whereas we’re all still single and you guys manage to become front page news every weekend.”
Brant rolled his eyes. “The fact that Jake Titus is happily married with kids is enough to make me want to throw up a little. The guy was worse than me and Bentley combined. Besides, that marriage doesn’t count until he’s made it past six years.”
But Bentley had a knowing look on his face, his eyes wide. “The point is that Nadine Titus has always been known to have a soft spot for love stories and matchmaking, right?”
“Hunh?” Brock was even more confused.
A smirk crossed Brant’s face. “I think that’s a solid plan.”
“Wait? What am I missing?” Brock stopped pacing.
“Everything, brother.” Bentley slapped him on the back. “Damn near everything.”
“Will it save Jane?”
Bentley braced Brock with both hands. “And you.”
Chapter Thirty-Six
Jane woke up to her phone going off. She nearly fell out of bed in an attempt to grab it, thinking maybe, just maybe it was Brock.
Instead it was a text from Essence, saying that she and Esmerelda had stayed the night at a friend’s house and not to worry.
The thing about it, though? She wasn’t worried. Not at all. She’d stopped worrying the minute her sisters had proved they cared about themselves more than her, since she was left, as usual, to pick up the pieces. The press hadn’t left her house since news had broken that she was back home, which just so happened to be a few hours after Brock’s grandfather left.
Newspapers and TV shows wanted to interview her.
She could understand her sisters wanting to dodge the press, but honestly, leaving had just given them an excuse to do just what they’d normally do.
They’d left a mess in the house.
They’d had no regard for her feelings.
They’d manipulated.
And if she needed more proof of how little concern they actually felt for her, she had all of the text conversations from when she was at the ranch.
Her heart slammed against her chest.
The ranch.
Brock.
She still hadn’t heard from him, but at the same time she refused to believe things were over.
Sighing, she was just ready to put her phone back down when it rang.
Fumbling with the device, she pressed answer and had it to her ear. “Jane? Jane, is that you?”
Esmeralda’s voice may as well be nails on a chalk board. “Hey,” Jane answered.
“I’m still pissed at you.” Esmeralda sighed. “But, whatever. I just wanted to let you know that we forgive you.”
“Forgive me?” Jane rolled her eyes. Was her sister serious? “For what?”
“Leaving us.”
“I left to take a job!” Jane slammed her hand against her forehead. “Because that’s how I make money!” Were they really that dense?
“Right, but you didn’t answer your phone, left the laundry, didn’t even think to grocery shop. You know I hate going to crowded superstores like Walmart! I had a traumatic experience there! You know that!”
Jane bit her tongue. It was more that Esmerelda just hated doing anything that she thought was beneath her—grocery shopping fit that bill.
“Anyway, we forgive you and we actually wanted to do you a favor. We thought it would be fun to get ready for the ball tonight.”
“Did you say ball?”
“Yeah, why?”
“The ball that costs ten thousand dollars a plate? That ball?” Jane had a familiar sick punch to the gut. They didn’t have the money for it—not at all.