Chapter 8: Clash

Gloria shot her son a look of approval. "Your brother's right. Why didn't I think of that? Patch things up with Micah Baron, get the wedding photos done, and secure the betrothal gifts. They can't expect to get something for nothing. There's no way they're marrying my girl without fifty thousand dollars in betrothal gifts." Liana Carver's brows knit. If she asked Micah for fifty thousand in betrothal gifts and told him the wedding was on, he'd almost certainly agree, maybe even be thrilled. But wasn't that letting him off too easy? He hadn't apologized these past few days. She wasn't about to back down. Still, she couldn't ignore her kid brother's future. They were family. She had to be there for him on something this big. "Dad, Mom, Cain, leave it to me," she said. "I'll figure it out. Once I raise the money, I'll transfer it to you." Nicholas Carver grunted his approval. "Now that's being a good sister. But hurry up. Don't delay your brother's big moment." Gloria added, "Three days. Best if you wire it within three days. If we keep the bride's side waiting, they'll think we're too poor to come up with even that." Liana felt she had a safety net. Micah was her last resort. She'd get the money. After she saw her family out, her phone rang. Marshall Chambers. "Can you come out this afternoon? I owe you an explanation about yesterday." Liana's anger hadn't faded. Why should she jump just because he called? She needed to keep him at arm's length, or he'd lump her in with the cheap women out there, the kind you could beckon into bed with a crook of your finger. With men, you had to play hard to get to keep him on the hook. What he can't have is what he wants most. "I'm not feeling well," she said. "I'm not going out." Marshall took the bait, his voice softening. "Don't be mad. I'll take you for a drive and bring a gift to make amends. Send me your address. I'll come pick you up." Her refusal was also a test. "Since you have a fiancée, we should end this. I won't be a mistress and break up someone's family." Marshall chuckled. "My princess, that's just to placate my mother. What engagement? I don't have feelings for that woman. We've only met once. What kind of engagement is that? Come out first, and we'll figure out how to win over my mom so I can marry you and bring you into the Chambers family." His words tugged at her. If she could marry into the Chambers family, nothing could be better. Her brother's $38,800 in betrothal gifts would be nothing to them. "I'll send you the address," she said. "Call me when you get here. Don't keep me waiting." "As you command, princess." Being called "princess" over and over made her giddy. She hung up, washed her hair, and put on meticulous makeup. From the wardrobe she took the dress she'd been saving, Micah's gift from his paycheck last month-and slipped it on. She spun once in the mirror. Right then, Marshall called again. "Come down, princess. I'm at the entrance to your complex." She misted perfume over her wrists, slung on her bag, and left, light as air. Marshall had come in a sports car. The moment she spotted the flashy ride, her mood lifted; she practically jogged over. He was contrite today, opening the door himself. "Princess, please get in." He buckled her seat belt, then produced a small, elegant box. "A peace offering for the princess. Please accept it." Joy flooded her. Sitting in a sports car, receiving a man's gift, and being called "princess" was the life she dreamed of. Such a pretty box. There had to be a big diamond inside. She opened it and blinked. A lipstick? She turned the tube in her fingers, checking every angle, as if there were a hidden compartment. Nothing. Disappointment washed through her. That was not what she'd expected. A spoiled rich kid, and his make‑up gift was just a lipstick? She usually turned her nose up at this brand. Micah bought her better. Marshall noticed the flicker in her expression and let it slide. "A friend owns a five-star restaurant. They claim to serve the freshest seafood in Asia. How about I take you to try it?" Liana's mind drifted to her brother's betrothal gifts. She didn't know how to broach the subject. She murmured, distracted, "Mm‑hmm." Marshall hit the gas and steered toward the Blue Star Hotel. He handed off his keys to the valet and led Liana inside. Micah Baron had come to the hotel to confirm details about the wedding venue. As he walked in, they passed each other at the entrance. Liana froze, then put the pieces together. "Micah, are you following me? If you've got something to say, just say it. Don't follow me around." Marshall's brows lifted, a hint of surprise in his gaze. He'd heard Liana's ex was in tech and a senior engineer. Not bad on paper, but he'd pictured the usual stereotype, like the coders at his company: greasy hair, thick glasses, a black backpack, checkered shirt, thinning hair. In reality, the guy looked decent, handsome enough in a crowd of men. Too bad he was just a salaried nobody. A prickle of contempt made Marshall want to humiliate him. "I hear you code," he said. "My company is developing a game and plans to collaborate with the Brewsley Group's Technology Department. Prospects look good. Want to jump ship? Whatever your current place pays, I'll double it. The only condition is, besides finishing the development tasks, you'll also be on call as a driver for me and my girlfriend?" Micah had intended to walk on, but they were asking for it. He couldn't let it slide. "Planning a collaboration and actually collaborating are two different things. Mr. Chambers, don't tell me you haven't even met Ms. Eileen yet, and you're already name‑dropping the Brewsley Group to recruit people. Does Ms. Eileen know she has such an excellent partner?" Marshall choked on that. Micah hit every sore spot. He really hadn't met that ice queen at the Brewsley Group. Adelyn Brewsley and his grandmother were lifelong friends, and Adelyn wanted to match him with the ice queen. But the woman's schedule was tightly guarded. He hadn't managed to set up a meeting or even a chance encounter. He could only pin his hopes on Adelyn. Still, what was this corporate drone so smug about? "You're just a coder," Marshall said. "What difference does it make where you code? Who partners with whom has nothing to do with you. You won't see a dime of it. You're worrying too much." Micah smiled. "You're in tech, Mr. Chambers. How do you not know even that much? People in our line of work are picky about colleagues. From the way you think, you probably don't have any top talent. Working with a ragtag crew every day must be painful. What's this game you're making? Don't tell me it's another match-three like the ones older women play." Marshall's face went pale, then flushed, then pale again. He had nothing left to say.