Own the Eights Gets Married - Krista Sandor Page 0,58
right. They hadn’t.
They’d each occupied different parts of her mother’s world. She and her mom had done pageants, and her mother and Howard had traveled, spent time at the country club, and attended numerous charity engagements and galas. When they were all together, the activity had centered on her mom.
“No, come to think of it, I don’t think we have,” she replied.
“But I have gotten to learn quite a bit about you these past few years,” he said as they rounded the corner.
She frowned. “How so?”
“Your CityBeat blogs,” he answered.
“You’ve read them?” she exclaimed, now unable to keep the surprise from her voice.
She would not have put Howard in the Own the Eights or More Than Just a Number target audience.
He nodded. “I have. I like to keep an eye on what’s going on there.”
“Why?” she asked.
“This may come as a surprise to you, but many years ago, one of the subsidiaries of my venture capital company gave Hector and Bobby the seed money to start CityBeat. My company is no longer associated with them, but I like to keep my finger on the pulse of past ventures.”
“I had no idea,” she said on a stunned breath.
“I know a good investment when I see one,” the man replied.
A good investment.
She could sure use advice when it came to that.
“How do you know what’s worth investing in and what’s not?” she asked, training her gaze on the sidewalk.
“In its simplest form, the equation is risk versus reward,” Howard answered.
“So, you want to take on the least amount of risk?” she pressed.
“Not always. When I read Bobby and Hector’s proposal years ago, I saw two college kids with a lot of potential but little business experience,” he answered.
“Then, why did you choose to give them the money?” she asked.
“Because, no matter how many times you run the numbers or pore over the forecasts, you’ve got to trust your gut. If it says yes, it’s worth listening to.”
She sighed. Unfortunately, her gut was all over the place.
She glanced down at Mr. Tuesday, padding alongside her. “I could use some investment advice. Could I run it by you?”
Howard nodded.
“I thought I wanted to invest in a company—more like merge with another company. Everything seemed perfect. The potential for long-term growth looked promising,” she began.
“I’m sensing there was a hiccup in this potential investment merger,” Howard commented with a sly expression.
Hiccup? Try an alpaca-sized, shit-shoveling, lemon verbena-scented hiccup.
“Under extreme stress, vulnerabilities were exposed,” she replied, doing her best to stick to business jargon.
“That can happen,” her stepfather agreed.
“Should I walk away?” she asked, her throat growing tight.
Howard mulled over her question as they circled the block and headed back toward the candle store.
“Can I tell you a story, Georgiana?”
“Sure,” she replied.
“Before I met your mother, I was an even greater workaholic than I am now. Even then, I had teams of people working for me and could have easily spent my days golfing but chose to stay active in the company. I thought to maintain my level of success, I had to spend all my waking moments focused on business. I used to worry any deviation from the plan would decrease my profits. But your mother changed that. She helped me discover other parts of myself, other interests, other strengths. It wasn’t always easy. I never enjoyed all those charity functions, but she made me see the impact I could have on the community. Now, I know she sometimes comes off as a bit of a socialite.”
“Sometimes?” Georgie teased.
Howard chuckled. “But she cares. She truly cares and wants to bring people together, and she’s brought out the best in me.”
“I don’t know if Jordan and I bring out the best in each other,” she said as the words she’d kept locked away for two weeks came tumbling out. She froze. “I mean…” she stuttered, trying to think of something to say to counter her admission.
“I know this merger you’re considering is your marriage, Georgie,” Howard replied gently.
Panic welled in her chest. “How did you know I was talking about me and Jordan?”
Howard glanced over and raised a skeptical eyebrow. “A long-term investment that also included a merger?”
“I guess I wasn’t fooling you with that,” she replied, then gasped. “Mom doesn’t know anything, does she? I haven’t said anything. We haven’t decided anything.”
“No, and I think you and I can agree that allowing her to continue in her role as a wedding psychic energist is for the best.”
“I don’t want to let her down. I don’t