Kitabı oku: «Beyond Business», sayfa 7

Chapter Eleven

It was a strange feeling having Evan Hanson sleeping in her house.

A very strange feeling.

As Meredith sat by the washer and dryer, waiting for them to complete their cycles so she could take Evan’s clothes to his room and go to sleep, she had to keep reminding herself that this was all really happening.

There was once a time when she would never have imagined herself forgiving him and facing him again, but that was fading now. It wasn’t Evan’s fault that her father’s business had been ruined, it was George Hanson’s. The more she dug around Hanson Media Group, and the more people she spoke with, the more obvious it was that he had been a completely ruthless businessman for whom nothing was personal and everything had been war.

Now, instead of blaming Evan for his father’s misdeeds, she pitied him for having had that sort of man for a father. As rough as it was to compete with him in business, it had to be almost as rough to live up to his standards as a son.

As a matter of fact, she remembered some of Evan’s struggle with George Hanson. Not that Evan had talked about it much, but he’d gone through periods of quiet introspection that had worried her sometimes, and it wasn’t until she’d drawn him out that she knew it was because of his father’s heavy hand.

For her, it was just one more thing to hate about George Hanson.

When she’d taken this job, she’d thought it would be easy because of the unpleasant connotations she had with the Hanson family name. She thought she’d feel no hint of conscience or betrayal because any personal warm feelings she’d had for anyone in the family had long since died and been replaced by the opposite.

In a way it had seemed like the perfect opportunity to get back at them, even though they’d never know it was her.

Now … well. Now things were getting a little more complicated. She’d still do her job; she was nothing if not professional.

But she was going to have to get some perspective where Evan was concerned. And that she would get by reminding herself how, even though he didn’t have anything to do with the greatest tragedy of her life—her father’s ruin and death—he was directly responsible for the greatest heartbreak of her life.

There was no way around that one.

The dryer stopped and she took the warm jeans out. Size 32 waist. He’d filled out.

But of course she knew that.

She started up the stairs and remembered a conversation she’d had with him once. The memory hit her with crystal clarity and hit her so hard she had to stop and sit down.

They’d snuck out in the night once because it had seemed so romantic. It had been her idea, as she recalled, but Evan had indulged her. He’d come to her window at 2:00 a.m. and she’d climbed down the trellis, just like a cliché in a movie.

It was summer, and hot. Even the nights were hot, and the air was damp with humidity. They’d gone to a small private cove he knew of on Lake Michigan and they’d sat on the beach and talked for hours.

She couldn’t remember most of what they’d said. It was a lot of talk about their pasts, their dreams and the other typical things that kids that age could expound upon.

She remembered the night specifically because a quick but wild thunderstorm had come out of the blue, interrupting the clear starry night with about ten minutes of drama.

Kissing in that thunderstorm had been one of the most romantic moments of her life.

It was amazing that she could remember anything else, but she did. Evan had asked her if her father had ever thought about selling his newspaper business.

“I don’t know. Why?”

Evan had shrugged. But now, when she saw it again in her memory, she realized he had looked tense.

“Just seems like a really competitive business. I’ve heard sometimes it gets ugly, one paper accusing another of publishing lies and whatnot. It’s hard for a newspaper to come back after that kind of accusation.”

She’d laughed—laughed!—seeing no significance in what he was saying at all.

“Oh, come on, Evan, no one takes that stuff that seriously. Look at all the tabloids at the grocery store that say aliens are walking among us. Everyone knows they’re full of lies, but they’re still in business.”

“It’s different, Meredith. I wouldn’t want to be in the news business for anything. I’d hate to see a nice guy like your dad get into trouble in business.”

“As long as he keeps the aliens off the front page, he’ll be fine.” She could remember saying that, because then she’d looked up and seen a shooting star.

She’d wished for a long, happy future with Evan.

Maybe the star had been an alien.

She started up the stairs with his warm clothes now, playing and replaying his words in her head. How on earth had she forgotten that hugely significant conversation until now?

Or, on the other hand, how had she remembered it at all? Given how little thought she’d put into it at the time, and how many other things had happened that night that were a lot more interesting to the mind of a teenage girl, she was amazed that it was still in her head at all.

She wondered if Evan remembered.

She stopped at the door to the guest room she’d directed him to and knocked softly.

No answer.

Slowly she opened the door and peeked in. Light from the bathroom spilled in and she could see he was on his side, breathing softly and rhythmically.

She set his clothes down on the dresser and started to leave but then she turned back.

As if watching someone else, and completely incapable of stopping them, she walked back over to the side of the bed and looked down at him. She told herself she just wanted to make sure he seemed all right, in case he had a concussion, but the truth was she wanted to be closer to him, to see him without his knowing it.

It might have been ten minutes that she stood there, looking at that handsome face half hidden by the shadows of the night. It was a face she’d thought about many times over the years. At first with love, then later with pain and confusion, then finally with anger.

Now she wasn’t sure how she felt.

And that scared her more than anything.

She turned to leave and stepped on a creaky floorboard that protested loudly.

She froze, listening for the even breath of his sleep.

Instead she heard his voice. “Meredith?”

She turned back to him. “I just brought your clothes back. They’re on the dresser.”

He looked through sleepy eyes at the dresser across the room, then back at her by the bed and clearly not anywhere near the clothes.

“Then I came to check on you and make sure you were breathing normally,” she explained in answer to his unasked question. “You know, all the typical concussion checks. Steady breathing, ability to wake up. Congratulations, you passed.”

He sat up in bed and the sheets fell away from him, revealing a bare torso.

So much for the T-shirts she’d offered him.

And so much for her resolve to keep a professional distance from him. This was a sight that would easily fuel the romantic fantasies of any red-blooded American woman, and it was right here in her own house.

“Thanks,” he said. “Am I okay?”

“I think you’ll live.”

“Can’t ask for more than that, I guess.”

This was hard, all this small talk in a room filled with such big tension.

“If there’s nothing you need, I’ll be going to sleep now,” she said to him. She swallowed. “Do you need anything?”

Three heartbeats passed.

“There is one thing …”

“What is it?”

“I—” He stopped. “Never mind. It’s nothing.”

“Oh. Okay. If you’re sure …”

He nodded.

“Good night, then.”

“Good night.”

She started to go, then stopped and turned back. She had to ask him this. If she didn’t, it would drive her crazy. “Evan?”

“Hmm?” He sat up again.

“Can we talk for a minute?”

“Sure.” He scooted back in the bed. “Have a seat.”

She went over and sat on the edge of the bed, facing him. “I want you to be absolutely honest, okay?”

He frowned. “Okay.”

“Did you know what your father was planning to do to my father’s business?”

He blew air into his cheeks, then let it out in a long, tense stream. “I guess we were going to get to this someday.”

“So you did.”

“I had an idea, yeah.”

“An idea? Or you knew?” The possibilities mounted in her mind. “Did he tell you?”

He raked his hand through his hair and looked at her. “You sure you want to do this?”

Her stomach began to feel shaky and upset. It was like getting a phone call and knowing it was bad news before even picking up the receiver. “Tell me,” she said.

“I knew my father wanted to buy your father’s paper. Everyone knew that. He even made an offer, but your dad refused.”

“He loved his work.”

“I know,” Evan said softly. “It wasn’t his fault.”

“Obviously not,” she said, a tad too defensively. “So your father told you he was going to plant lies about my father’s paper to cast doubt on the credibility?”

“No, he didn’t tell me.” He was choosing his words carefully, talking slowly.

Meredith wanted answers now. “Then how did you know?”

“I heard him talking to someone on the phone one night. It wasn’t hard to put two and two together and figure out what he was planning to do.” He shook his head. “I tried to warn you one night—”

“At the beach?”

“That’s right.” He nodded. “You remember that?”

“It only just occurred to me.” She shifted her weight, and the mattress squeaked. “But if you knew, why didn’t you tell me directly? You were so vague…. I had no idea you were trying to make me aware of something so important.” Her eyes burned but she wouldn’t cry. “Why didn’t you just tell me?”

There was a long moment where Evan said nothing. Then at last he said, “Because I was a kid, Meredith. I didn’t have firsthand information about the plan, and even if I did, we’re talking about betraying my father.” He shook his head again, the slow movement showing his regret. “I thought I needed to be loyal to my family. To my father.”

A terrible thought occurred to her. “Did our relationship. did it have anything to do with helping your father take over my father’s company?”

“Of course not,” Evan said, clearly offended at the suggestion.

Relief coursed through Meredith, calming her tight stomach.

But it was short-lived.

“I would never have dated you in order to help my father get access to the newspaper,” Evan went on. “In fact, when he suggested our relationship could be of use to him, I ended it.”

She felt like she’d been punched in the stomach. Had she heard that correctly? “Wait a minute. You’re saying you left because your father wanted to use us to gain access to my father’s business?”

Evan nodded slowly. “That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

Chapter Twelve

It was the first time in her life Meredith had ever even thought about quitting a job halfway through. Her job description of corporate researcher had a lot of mutations, and while she wasn’t usually a corporate spy—or, as some put it, competitive intelligence agent—it wasn’t unheard of for her.

As long as she felt comfortable with the reasons for her research and believed she wasn’t breaching her own personal morals and standards she was able to do a good job.

This time, though, things were getting foggy.

She’d told her employer she might have a conflict of interest, and her employer had guessed right off that it might have something to do with her relationship with Evan.

It was hard for Meredith to explain that it did because of something that had happened a long, long time ago. How could she say that she’d just learned he’d once had the chance to do almost the same thing to her that she was doing to him and he’d opted not to?

It sounded so. unprofessional.

So she’d had to settle for explaining that she’d never before taken this kind of job with a company she had any personal relationship with—even a relationship as tangential and outdated as the one she had with the Hansons—and that she was finding it more difficult than she’d anticipated to completely fulfill her obligations to everyone involved.

Especially when the end result would be the hostile takeover of Evan’s company.

To Meredith’s surprise her employer had assured her that there was no hostile takeover in the works. That they were seeking a merger—a way to take two strong companies and put them together to make them both even more powerful.

Hanson Media Group wasn’t going to lose in this deal, Meredith was told—they were going to win.

That was believable, Meredith supposed. Hanson could accept an offer to share partnership instead of being subject to a hostile takeover and thereby having no choice.

“So are you prepared to stay on and finish the job you began?” her employer had asked.

The sixty-four-thousand—only in this case it was more like million—dollar question.

Meredith thought about it for a moment. Her instincts told her she could believe what she was being told, and in the past few years her instincts had become pretty good.

“Yes,” she said at last. “I am. You can depend on me.”

Evan was starting to have a hard time getting his thoughts straight.

Being at Meredith’s parents’ house the other night was just too strange. How many hours had he spent there in his lifetime, enjoying the company of the girl he had once been absolutely sure he’d marry?

It was weird to come back, now that she was a grown woman—a woman who had spent more than a decade growing away from him—and see her in that same environment.

It gave him a strange feeling, a combination of unease and melancholy.

Not to mention the all-new desire he felt for Meredith as she fit right into his life and his mind now. The way she’d handled Lenny Doss was amazing. More to the point, the way she handled everything at work was amazing. She was a perfect professional, always conservative but always right.

It was ironic that the very quality that had driven him crazy when they were dating—her unwillingness to take a risk—was the very thing he appreciated in her now.

After he’d spent the night in her guest room, he’d gotten up early, written a note of thanks and called a cab to take him back to his car at Navy Pier. It was better that way, he figured: no awkward morning talk, no uncomfortable silences.

He’d been at work for three and a half hours, with no sign of Meredith, when he finally decided to take a casual look around for her.

But she wasn’t in the PR offices, and David said he hadn’t seen her all day. So when Evan found her at a lone computer at the far end of the accounting department, he was puzzled.

He watched her for a few minutes from a distance, clicking on the computer keyboard, squinting and looking closer, then jotting notes down on a pad in front of her.

Now what was that all about?

He moved closer, hoping to catch a better glimpse of her work without making his presence so obvious that, if caught, he couldn’t say he’d just wandered in.

So very carefully he walked up behind her and tried to see what was on the computer screen.

Revenues. Debt. Balances.

Meredith was studying the entire financial profile of the company.

Why?

He backed off again, unnoticed, to contemplate his next move in the hallway.

Was Meredith a corporate spy of some sort?

No, that was too absurd. What had made him even think such a thing? Meredith was far too principled to be dishonest in any capacity, much less lie to someone’s face, as she would have to with Evan, David, Helen and everyone else she came into contact with at the office.

Come on.

It was far more likely that ever-responsible-and-forward-thinking Meredith was checking out the company’s vital statistics because she was interested in some personal investing, rather than reporting back to some supersecret source.

If anyone was bold enough to take a chance on investing in a company at rock bottom, it was Meredith. She’d see, as he did, that Hanson Media would rebound one way or another.

That was definitely more in keeping with Meredith’s personality, yet … Evan wasn’t quite sure. Something about this didn’t sit right with him. An investor would have plenty of ways to monitor the debt-to-income ratio and the viability of the company as a potential investment. There were books, Web sites, portfolios and, hell, people who dedicated their entire existence to providing that kind of information.

Still, the idea of Meredith checking the company information for some sort of nefarious intention was unlikely in the extreme.

He’d have to keep an eye on the situation. He’d keep Meredith close and see if he could figure out what she was up to without his ever having to ask.

* * *

Several days passed since Evan had stayed at Meredith’s house, and they never really talked about it again. His cut healed fairly quickly, she was glad to see. He’d probably been right: she was too paranoid in suggesting he needed to go to the hospital right away for stitches.

The strange thing was, he was barely talking to her.

Despite the great strides he’d made in the company—after getting Lenny Doss, he’d managed to secure contracts with three other famous names, including the Alleyway Guys, who had a popular, irreverent car talk show—his conversations with Meredith were brief and to the point.

She couldn’t argue with his professional decisions, so it wasn’t as if he had that to worry about. The Alleyway Guys, at least, wouldn’t be as great a liability as Lenny Doss could be, and the radio psychologist he’d hired had a reputation for being aggressively conservative, but that always ended up making for good listening, both because of the callers who disagreed with her and the callers who agreed.

So the radio division was shaping up. Despite the risks involved—and they were many—the acquisition of Lenny Doss would probably be a profitable one. Evan was smart to create an interesting but reliable mix of talent. All of them were proven talents with good, solid numbers behind them.

That would undoubtedly help with her employers’ plans for a merger.

“So how’s everything going over at the Web site?” she asked David, late in the afternoon. It was almost time to go, and she hoped it would sound like a casual question that he could answer and then leave without thinking too much.

“Actually, things are great,” David said. “All squared away. Hanson Media Group is on its way back.”

“Really? What do you attribute that to?”

David hesitated. “I guess it’s everything combined. The family has come in and worked really hard to save the company, and I think it’s showing in every department. We’re not in the clear yet, of course, but things are really looking up.”

Meredith smiled. “So you think the company can survive on its own?”

David looked at her sharply. “As opposed to what?”

She’d spoken too fast. “I mean you won’t need to file for chapter eleven or get a loan?”

David narrowed his eyes and looked at her. “Are you worried about keeping your job?”

She was relieved that that was his only question. She opened her arms into a wide shrug and said, “I’m a single woman working to pay for a house and make my way in this world.” She smiled. “It ain’t easy. Any reassurance you could give me about job security would be greatly appreciated.” She hated to lie to him that way—job security was the least of her worries—but she needed his input on how the company was doing. David Hanson’s word was gold within the industry, and she needed a little of that rich, shiny news to take back to her employer.

“I can’t assure you of anything,” David said, to her disappointment. “This is a wildly uncertain business struggling in wildly uncertain times. However, I can tell you that the public interest in Evan’s programming is high. The kid has good instincts, just like Helen figured he would.”

“He’s a little reckless,” Meredith interjected, with a ping of conscience at saying something potentially negative about Evan.

“Ambitious might be a better way of putting that,” David said gently. “He’s been working against the odds, and against the opposition of many within the company, but he’s still arranged for a lineup he feels good about, and the industry buzz is on his side.” David shrugged broadly. “How do we argue with that?”

“Hopefully, we don’t,” Meredith agreed. It was a good recommendation of Evan and his work, and she knew David Hanson was far too meticulous a professional to say anything he didn’t mean, just to flatter his nephew.

“So the company’s in good shape?” She was careful to sound interested but not too eager. “It’s not about to go down the tubes or anything?”

“It’s all good,” David said shortly, but with what sounded like confidence. “No worries.”

“Well, good,” Meredith said with a smile. “I’m glad to know I’ll be safely employed in the immediate future.”

“You can count on it,” David said, looking her in the eye.

And she already knew it. She was safely employed. The question was, how many people at Hanson Media Group could say the same thing?

Not too many.

* * *

She was asking a lot of questions, Evan noticed. Questions that could be normal, in the line of business, but which seemed just a little bit … outside the bounds of her job.

It wasn’t as if he could take a lot of time to follow her around, though, to see what she was up to. Evan still had his own job to do, and after a decade of killing time all day until his bartending shift at night, he wasn’t too keen on the idea of figuring out why anyone should want to the know the Arbitron ratings for the last three years when it was his primary concern to make sure the next three years were more successful.

And somehow he had to do that with Meredith Waters by his side, driving him to distraction with almost every breath she took.

He’d never forgotten her, of course. He didn’t even try to fool himself about that one. But what was really striking him was how interested in her he was getting again. It wasn’t just the shadow she cast in his past—she had grown into a fascinating and exciting woman. A strange blend of professional savvy and goofy good humor.

There were more facets to her than he could count. And he wanted to learn about them all.

Was it just because of what they’d shared once? Was all of the heat he felt between them simply a matter of a once-sizzling love affair? Or was it possible that what he’d seen in her once was something that he needed still, something that complemented his soul in a way that was to be profound all his life?

He turned the thought over in his mind and tried to imagine how they could possibly be together now, even theoretically. He wasn’t going to be here long. Chicago held nothing for him. God alone knew where he’d go next, but it was a fairly safe bet that Meredith wouldn’t want to join him. She had her life here. Her career was here. And one thing about Meredith that didn’t seem to have changed was her inclination to be a homebody.

So there was probably nothing more to say about it than that. The past was the past, and Evan was going to have to get a grip on himself and stop fantasizing about the girl who got away. He’d let her go and there was no getting her back now.

Both he and Meredith needed to look toward the future. Of Hanson Media Group, that is.

Nothing more.

Why couldn’t she get her mind off him?

Meredith sat in her office, trying to do the advertising analysis that David had asked her to do. But all she could concentrate on was Evan.

And he wasn’t even around.

Well, he was around, somewhere in the office, but she’d barely seen him, except for running into him occasionally when she was alone in the copy room and again when she was returning from an early lunch. Both times Evan had been cordial, polite, but basically he’d acted as if they were strangers.

Was he mad at her?

The last time they’d really spoken he’d admitted that he’d known his father’s intention had been to sabotage her father’s business. Or at least he’d suspected it, and that was enough for Meredith. He’d had an inkling of what was to come, but he’d barely alluded to it in conversation, much less actually come out and warned her.

She should be mad at him.

But she wasn’t. That was ancient history now, and whatever his culpability for not revealing what he suspected, he had been part of George Hanson’s campaign to steal her father’s newspaper and, in fact, after warning her in his far-too-subtle way, he’d left the country. So even the greatest cynic couldn’t say he was actually part of the conspiracy.

So, no, she wasn’t mad. Not at Evan. Not for that. Not anymore.

Instead she found herself watching for him every time she heard footsteps in the hall. When someone entered the room, she looked up quickly, hoping it was him. And when it wasn’t, as it inevitably wasn’t, she was disappointed.

What was going on here?

Finally, at almost five o’clock in the afternoon, when she was about to seek him out and ask if and why he was avoiding her, Evan knocked on her door and poked his head in. “Got a minute?”

She should have been cool and professional but she was so glad to see him that she couldn’t help the excited smile she felt on her face. “Sure.”

He came in. “I was hoping you might go out with me and grab a bite to eat. There’s something—” he hesitated “—there’s something I want to talk to you about.”

She frowned. “Sounds serious.”

“It’s not that big a deal. I just thought it would be nice to get out of the office. I’m not used to being trapped under fluorescent lighting all the time.”

“I guess it doesn’t compare to the Mediterranean sun.” There was a tiny sharp edge to her voice, and she hoped he wouldn’t notice it.

However, the quick glance he gave her said he had. “You should try it sometime.”

“Maybe I will.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

“Why do you sound so surprised?”

“I’m not, I just. You never expressed much interest in travel before.”

She shrugged. “I’ve never in my life had the time to travel. First it was school, then it was work, now it’s like some pathological habit. I think it’s time I broke it.”

He smiled, the smile that had always made her heart flip. “Starting tonight, then. We’ll go to a little Greek restaurant I know on the outskirts of town.”

She was ready to go farther than that. At this moment, she could have gotten on a plane and taken off for Greece itself, with nothing more than a bathing suit and some sunscreen.

Of course, the image was so unlike her it was almost funny, but suddenly she found herself—unexpectedly and uncharacteristically—hungry for something new, and Chicago just wasn’t offering it to her.

Maybe tonight it would at least give her a little taste.

“Should I change my clothes?” she asked, feeling unexpectedly girlish at his offer.

Evan looked her over, and her skin prickled in response, as if he’d touched her. “No, you’re fine.”

Fine. It wasn’t high praise, but it would do. Especially given the way he’d looked at her.

“Okay, then.” She shut her computer down and picked up her purse. “I’m ready if you are.”

They took the elevator down to the parking garage and went to Evan’s car. He went to open the door for her and she mused, “It’s been a long time since someone opened a door for me.”

“Chivalry’s dead, huh?”

“That or it’s been asleep.” She got into the car and leaned back against the buttery soft leather seats. “Sound asleep.”

“So.” Evan started the car. “Do you date a lot?”

She was taken by surprise at his question. “Do I date a lot?”

He nodded, his eyes on the road in front of him. “Or is that an inappropriate question.”

“I don’t know if it is or not.” She thought for a minute. “Do you date a lot?”

He gave a laugh and glanced at her sideways. “Never mind, that is a hard question to answer.”

“Because there have been so many?” She was unable to stop herself from asking.

“Hardly.”

But she wasn’t sure she believed him.

“Let me try this one,” he said after a couple of moments had passed. “Have you been married? Engaged?”

This was so weird to be talking to Evan about this. “I was engaged once,” she said, though part of her didn’t want to confess it to him for some reason. “But it didn’t work out.”

“Why not?”

She looked out the window and gave a dry laugh. “He wasn’t ambitious. Didn’t have solid plans for the future. I was afraid he might not be … reliable.”

The single moment that passed before Evan spoke was so rife with tension that she had no doubt he understood the irony of her failed relationship.

“Maybe you just expected too much of him.”

“Certain expectations are so basic that to call them ‘too much’ is ludicrous.” She kept her gaze fastened on the road, watching the yellow lines on the black street disappear under the car. But inside she was thinking, Please give me a good explanation for what you did, please make me understand.

“Sometimes people can’t fulfill basic expectations for really good reasons,” Evan said. “Sometimes things are different from what you think.”

“All I know is what I see,” she countered, wishing it was enough to believe him but knowing she needed something more. Something concrete. “It’s hard to speculate about ‘theoretically’ when the facts are slapping you in the face.”

He took a deep breath. “If they’re really the facts. In our case, I just.” He lost the words and shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. We’re not talking about us.”

Meredith stiffened in her seat. She felt her face flush hotly. She was far too ready to talk about them. It just wasn’t healthy. He’d moved on. And she’d thought she had, as well.