“Try to look happy to be with me, sweet one.” He bends down and nuzzles my ear.
“I don’t turn it off and on as easily as you do, West,” I snap, careful to keep my voice low and my face the mirror of happiness.
He blinks. “You think everyone gets to see this side of me, little girl?”
“Don’t they?” My mouth goes dry.
“No.” His voice is a low, gravelly sound tinged with sincerity.
My knees threaten to weaken as he grips my hip and turns to face the camera. I feel dazed as the photos are snapped, and we’re taken to the famous Baths—the oldest and best-preserved standing Roman architecture in the world. Large stone slabs have been carved into tall pillars that hold up a floor with detailed railings that overlook a large pool. The only naturally occurring hot springs in Europe were hidden, covered for three hundred years before excavations revealed there were temples and then the thermal baths.
“You’re very knowledgeable,” I compliment Priscila, determined to kill her with kindness. I want to keep her claws out of West without isolating her enough to make her father think twice about dealing with us.
“She should be. I dragged her all around on trips.” Scott looks at his daughter warmly.
“That you did, Father.” She smiles, and I wonder what it is about West that has her so determined to have him.
Aren’t there any proper British lads she can latch onto? I do my best to downplay the affection West is trying to show, avoid eye contact, and only briefly hold his hand. My foot catches on an uneven stone. West grabs me by my forearm.
“Careful. You can’t actually swim in the baths.” West smirks. “Hold on to me. The ground is uneven.”
Is the universe itself plotting against me? The steamy heat emanating from the green pool is impressive. Underground, we can see where the overflow from the pool runs off and into the river. Squinting at the original ruins they’ve built upon, I can picture the bathhouse as it once might’ve looked.
“It’s worn down so much over time, even with its magnificence, it’s a shadow of its former glory. I believe in building things right, so they last. If you make your product properly and take care of your people, the legacy you leave behind will continue to grow.” His message is clear. If he doesn’t think we can accomplish that, he’s going to pass on the deal.
I look up at West and find his expression grim. He heard him loud and clear.
“My father taught me a lot about that,” West says softly.
“Harrison Rogers?”
“Yes, sir.”
Scott smiles. “I know. I make it my business to know who my future employees are. It’s one of the reasons I requested you personally to work with me. I admire your father’s grit, practices, and success. I’ve often wondered why you didn’t follow in his footsteps.”
“I wanted to forge my own path. Anything else felt like I was being handed something. It was my goal to take everything my father taught me and create something for myself.”
“And have you done that?” Scott asks.
> “Not yet, sir. But I’m this close.” He holds his pointer finger and thumb an inch apart.
“And your Plan B, if that doesn’t work out?” Scott shifts his weight.
“There’s no Plan B. There’s only my will and drive until I get to where I’m trying to be.”
Scott’s thick salt and pepper eyebrows lift.
The line moves, and the intense moment is broken. We walk up to a fountain, and I read the sign.
“You can drink it?” I ask skeptically.
“It’s been filtered, obviously.” Priscila rolls her eyes. “It was believed to have healing properties sent from Minerva.” Priscila smirks. “Unless you’re too chicken.”
I straighten to my full height. “Let me have a cup.” I take one of the paper cones and hold it beneath the warm water. Lifting the rim to my lips, I grimace. “It tastes like warm pennies.”
Scott chuckles, and we meander out onto the streets and back to the tour bus for our final destination.
“IS IT HORRIBLE IF I admit I found Stonehenge underwhelming?” I ask.