Never Dare a Tycoon

Prologue

The storm raged outside, rain pelting the long windows of the large family room making the usually cozy atmosphere cold and ominous. Occasionally, the wind whipped around the corner of the house and the eerie howl could be heard inside.

The crackling fire, bright lights and most of her family working at various tasks around the room didn’t seem to diminish the feeling of doom Antonia was experiencing. Glancing around the large room, she tried to pinpoint the problem. But nothing seemed unusual. Everyone was in his or her customary place. Her mother was sitting at the end of the sofa cross-stitching; her four older brothers were either at the dining room table doing their own homework or were lounging in a chair reading. Antonia’s father saw her taking in the scene and winked at her from behind his newspaper, his cigar smoke curling around the room, adding a slight cinnamon smell to the surroundings. The only two missing siblings were the oldest children of the Attracelli family. Salvatore, the oldest of the six children was in his second year at Harvard and Sophia, the next oldest, was in her first year at MIT.

Refocusing on her homework, Antonia bit her lower lip in concentration as she tried to figure out the algebra problem for her assignment. It was her first week of fifth grade and Antonia was trying to make a good impression with her new teachers. She was the only student in her grade that was allowed to take algebra and she was determined to prove she could excel at the task. She dismissed her uneasiness, attributing it to her imagination.

The shrill ring of the telephone seemed to make everyone jump.

She heard her mother’s cheerful greeting as she spoke to the person at the other end of the line. Antonia sensed her mother’s change in mood before she noticed the tensing of her shoulders. Her brothers were still doing their own homework, oblivious to the changed atmosphere. Antonia instinctively knew that her mother was in pain but she didn’t understand why. She kept searching the faces of the rest of the family, trying to decide if her instincts about her mother were silly.

Antonia stood as the phone fell out of her mother’s hand, landing with a foreboding thud onto the floor. She watched as her mother’s shoulders began shaking. Her hands went to cover her ears as if she could stop the agonizing information from coming. As Antonia watched, her mother bent over the table and an anguished wail tore out of her soul. It was as if her life were being pulled from her body.

The sound was the most horrific in Antonia’s young life.

Instantly, Antonia’s father threw down his paper and came over to his wife, holding her up as she melted into the security of his arms, sobbing out her pain and anguish but unable to tell him what was wrong. Carlos came over and picked up the phone, attempting to ascertain the situation while their father tried to comfort their mother.

“Hello?” Carlos said, his voice just recently changing to the deeper tones of adulthood.

Apparently the person assumed it was the father and repeated the information. Antonia’s fear intensified as she watched Carlos’ face turn white. But he nodded his head, then calmly put the phone back on its receiver.

When he turned around again, the tears were already rolling down his cheeks. He cleared his throat and put one hand on the back of his still sobbing mother, communicating his understanding of her pain. “Sophia…” he started, only to stop and push back the emotion, “Sophia died,” he explained. “She and a friend walked by as a burglar was trying to get away. It was late last night. Sophia died on the way to the hospital.”
Chapter 1

Fifteen Years Later

Out in the street, traffic was heavy with afternoon lunchers moving either to their meal spot or from it. Either way, Brett Hancock was impatient with the lunch hour traffic. Being only a few minutes late for his lunch appointment meant that he’d missed the window of lighter traffic. Punctuality was an asset, he thought to himself as he negotiated his BMW into traffic.

He was about to turn off the main street and head down a side one in order to cut a few minutes off his time when a motorcycle zoomed by him, nearly hitting his black BMW in the process.

“What the…?” Brett slammed on his brakes and cursed under his breath.

All he saw was a stream of black curly hair flying out behind a woman on a red motorcycle. It wasn’t following the traffic patterns but was driving beside all the cars waiting for the light to turn so they could move forward. It was illegal to drive beside cars like that, outside of a lane and practically on the sidewalk. But someone hadn’t mentioned that fact to the driver, Brett thought irritably. All he caught was the hair that escaped from the helmet as it lifted in the breeze. The rest of her was a blur and she turned the corner at the next intersection so he couldn’t get a license plate number.

Brett made it to the restaurant with a few minutes to spare. He handed his keys to the valet and walked inside, nodding slightly to the doorman.

Inside, he was led directly to his table. He didn’t even glance around the elegant room decorated in white linen tablecloths or the crystal chandeliers which reflected the sunlight streaming into the room from the palladian windows. The starkness of the room was offset only by thick, subtle floral carpeting and the large centerpiece of flowers on each table that matched the pattern in the carpeting.

Salvatore Attracelli and the vice president Brett had met the night before were already seated discussing some papers when Brett sat down.

Sal immediately stood up when he saw Brett. “How are you today?” Brett said, shaking both men’s hands. “Recovered from Cesar’s?” he inquired, cursing himself as soon as the words were out of his mouth. Their waitress from the exclusive bar where they’d initially discussed a business deal the night before was on his mind almost constantly. It occurred to him that the waitress from the previous evening and the woman on the motorcycle both had similar hair. Perhaps that was why he thought of her now.

Sal and Scott laughed. “Not really. I think I had too much to drink, but I guess that’s the whole point of the place, isn’t it?” Scott said.

Sal looked at his watch when they were all seated again. “I’m sorry, but I invited my sister to join us. I haven’t seen her in a while and was hoping she and I could spend some time together after lunch. But she’s late, as usual,” he said, trying to hide his annoyance.

Scott immediately perked up. “Antonia’s joining us?” he asked.

Sal noticed Scott’s eagerness and frowned slightly. He didn’t know what happened on their date years ago, but Antonia had refused to meet three other men Sal had tried to introduce her to afterwards. That couldn’t be a good sign. No matter how Antonia felt about a person, she always gave them a chance. But after one dinner with Scott, all of Sal’s subsequent matchmaking attempts had been immediately shot down.

Brett looked at his watch. He had several meetings this afternoon that couldn’t be rescheduled. He didn’t know Sal’s sister, but surely she’d arrive when she got here. Delaying their lunch meeting until she appeared was ridiculous.

“Well, until she gets here, why don’t you tell me what you thought of the numbers floating around last night? Now that we’ve had some time to think about it, I’d like to get your ideas,” he said, starting the meeting without Sal’s sister.

Sal took the hint and they launched into a discussion about revising the numbers, tossed around the idea of different loan types as well as other financing options.

Chapter 2

Oblivious to the three men’s dismissal of her, Antonia drove by the restaurant, not stopping to let the valet park her motorcycle. Instead, she turned the corner at the next block and parked it along the street. Glancing up and down the street, she checked to make sure no one would see her, then she unsnapped the helmet and pulled it off, shaking her hair loose as she went.

Hopping off the bike, she took off her backpack and exchanged some of its contents. She took out the pink wool skirt and matching jacket and replaced them with her leather jacket – rolled up so that it fit back inside her backpack. She pulled the skirt up over her jeans, pulled the jeans down, and smoothed her cream colored stockings, making sure she wasn’t revealing anything in the process. That done, she rolled the jeans up and stuffed them into the backpack as well, taking out a slim black purse with a gold chain and pretty, pink pumps to replace her cowboy boots. The shoes were not her type. But then, neither was the whole outfit, so she endured the prissy suit and classic shoes, knowing her eldest brother would approve.

The transformation completed, she stood up and straightened, checking the street again. This was one of Sal’s favorite restaurants in the city, so she’d been here several times, changing in the same manner each time. So far, luck had been on her side and she hadn’t been caught by anyone, including her oldest, very conservative and straight-laced brother who would never approve of the way she lived her life.

But it was her life and she would not be dictated to by any of her five older brothers who would only be satisfied when she was safely married and giving birth to her third child. Coming from a traditional, Italian American family had some good and some bad. Her older brothers’ protectiveness was part of the bad she’d learned to deal with over the years.

Taking a deep breath, Antonia walked gracefully to the front of the restaurant, winking at Jim, the doorman, and handing him a small box of white chocolates. Jim shook his head, smiling, but accepted the chocolates, his mouth watering as he anticipated sneaking one into his mouth at the first opportunity.

“You’d best hurry, Miss Attracelli. They’re already in there.”

“Uh, oh,” she said, and grimaced, knowing how much Sal valued punctuality. Cringing, she glanced at her watch. She didn’t mention that she was late because she’d stopped at the tiny confectionary that specialized in his favorite chocolates. “I guess I’m pretty late, aren’t I?” she said. “Don’t eat all those chocolates before I leave here, understand?” she said, knowing they’d be almost gone by the time she walked out.

“Don’t worry,” Jim said, grinning like a schoolboy. “I made the mistake of telling my wife about them last time and she just about knocked my head off because I hadn’t saved her any. I learned my lesson. At least one is coming home with me tonight,” he laughed.

Antonia laughed as well. His wife was a tiny woman that barely reached Jim’s shoulder. But she had him right where she wanted him. where he wanted to be, so it wasn’t a problem.

At the maitre d’s table, Antonia smiled to Jeffrey. And Jim was exactly

“Is Sal here already Jeffrey?” she asked, hoping against hope that Jim might be wrong. Just once, she’d like to be the first to arrive so she wouldn’t have to see her brother’s look of disapproval when she walked up to the table. Sal was the only one who could make her feel self-conscious. Her other brothers were too fun loving to worry about little things like time and punctuality. Most of the time, anyway.

Jeffrey nodded his head. “Your brother’s been here for twenty minutes although Mr. Hancock only arrived at one o’clock.”

Antonia’s face showed the shock and anger she felt at discovering that her brother had arranged a lunch meeting with her, but it was in the guise of a blind date. “He promised me just this morning that it wasn’t a set-up. He lied to me,” she said, furious.

Jeffrey sympathized with her. He’d seen her lunches with several men her brothers had arranged for her. He also knew that none had reached her in any way other than as nice companions for a meal occasionally.

Exasperated, she looked at her appearance in her small compact mirror. “Well, since I’m already late, I guess I should go tidy up a bit. You know how Sal is about appearances.”

Jeffrey nodded his head and put the menu back in its holder. “I’ll see you when you’re finished.”

Antonia smiled gratefully before turning and heading into the ladies room. She pulled a comb through her black, curly hair that refused to be tamed, then added more lipstick and a touch of powder to her nose. Satisfied that she’d done all she could, she marched out of the bathroom, then followed Jeffrey as he led her to the best table in the restaurant.

Sure enough, Sal’s face was full of disapproval when she walked up to the table at ten minutes after one o’clock. Antonia accepted the menu from Jeffrey, winking at him when Sal looked away.

She knew her suit was perfect for Sal’s taste. It was a pink Channel suit given to her by Carlo last year, her older brother by two years. The skirt was the right length, not too high above her knees, yet not snobbishly demure either. The triple strand of pearls at her neck was a nice accent, as were the small pearls at her ears.

Antonia could tell that from Sal’s expression, although she was tardy, her appearance was acceptable.

She hated this outfit. It was the perfect dress, the perfect accessories, and the perfect shoes. It wasn’t her at all. But since they were gifts from her brothers, and because they all thought she looked nice in them, she wore them whenever she was around them. Nice meant that she looked like a good, Italian girl was supposed to look. She wore the clothes they gave her in order to keep peace in the family and because she knew that her brothers cared for her. If making them happy meant showing up for a meal in clothes they approved of, she didn’t have a problem with that.