Kitabı oku: «Not Strictly Business!», sayfa 8

Chapter Nine

Jack opened the drapes and returned to the bed to watch the growing light creep across the room. He gently shifted the lock of hair curling across Samantha’s cheek so that he could see the pale skin and the curve of her mouth.

She was beautiful, which wasn’t news, but still struck him this morning. She lay across rumpled sheets, with the blanket tangled in her legs. Her bare arm stretched toward him and he could see her naked right breast.

Just looking at the tight nipple sent blood surging to his groin. He wanted her again, but after last night, he didn’t think he should indulge himself. Three times was impressive, four was greedy. Besides, he didn’t want to make her sore.

He touched her curls again, rubbing his fingers against the soft texture of her hair. He didn’t even have to close his eyes to remember what it had been like the second time, when she’d straddled him, claiming him, moving faster and faster as her body gave itself over to pleasure.

He’d watched her as she’d arched her back, her breasts thrusting toward him, her hair spilling down, swaying with each thrust of her hips.

They were good together, at least in bed. But would she see that? Or would she revert to type—second-guessing what had happened and telling them both that this was all a mistake?

She stirred slightly, then rolled onto her back and opened her eyes. The sheet pooled around her waist, leaving her breasts bare and even after she’d seen him, she didn’t try to cover herself.

“Good morning,” she whispered. “Did you sleep?”

He nodded.

Her mouth curved into a smile. “You’re looking so serious. What’s wrong?”

“I’m fine.”

She rolled toward him and touched his bare chest. “Then what?” she asked, her smile fading. “Are you sorry about last night?”

“That’s your line.”

“Oh.”

He saw the hurt flash in her eyes and groaned. “Samantha, no. I didn’t mean it like that.”

She sat up and pulled the sheet so she was covered to her shoulders. Her messy hair tumbled across her bare shoulders and her mouth twisted.

“You did mean it like that and you have every right to expect me to bolt,” she said firmly. “Based on how I’ve been acting, what else could you think? I’m sorry I was a total change-o girl.”

He stared at her. “A what?”

“You know what I mean. I’ve been the queen of sending mixed messages. I hated that I was doing it and I didn’t know how to stop. I’ve since given myself a stern talking to. I’m working on being in the moment and letting the future take care of itself. You’ve been nothing but terrific since I moved to Chicago. You’re a great guy and I have no regrets about last night.” She shook her head. “I take that back. I have one regret. That it took me so long to get you into bed.”

He’d braced himself to hear a lot of things, but that wasn’t one of them. “You’re not sorry.”

“Nope. Are you?”

He grinned. “Are you kidding? Last night was incredible.”

“I do have a special talent,” she said modestly, then smiled. “Okay, what happens now? What are your usual rules of play.”

“You assume I have rules.”

“All guys do. Tell me what they are and I’ll tell you if I agree.”

Dangerous territory, he thought. Although maybe not. Samantha was coming off a rough divorce. He doubted she was looking for anything serious any more than he was.

“Serial monogamy,” he said. “We stay together as long as it’s good. No forever, no hurt feelings when it’s over.”

She batted her eyes. “So you’d be, like, my boyfriend.”

He chuckled. “If that’s what you want to call it.”

“Would we get matching tattoos?”

“Never.”

“Would we make love?”

“Almost constantly.”

She flopped back on the bed. “What makes you think I want you?”

“Last night you were screaming.”

Her cheeks darkened with color. “I don’t remember that.”

“Trust me. You screamed.”

Her humor faded. “You’ve been really patient with me, Jack. I’ve been so scared about messing up and being taken. I thought it was best to just avoid any kind of relationship. But that’s no way to live. Complicating the situation was my reaction to you.”

He took her hand in his and rubbed her fingers with his thumb. “What reaction?”

“You know, mine.”

“You have to be a little more specific.”

She sighed. “Look at the situation logically. If I didn’t want to get involved, why didn’t I just stay away from you? Why did I keep coming back for more?” She shrugged. “You’ve always been something of a temptation.”

He liked the sound of that. “Since when?”

“Since before. When we were in grad school.”

What? “You blew me off. You said it was a mistake.”

“I was scared.”

“Not of me. What did I ever do wrong?”

“Nothing. That’s my point. My fears were about me. But even they weren’t enough to keep me away. I was so torn. You were a lot like my father in that whole rich, powerful way and I didn’t know how to handle it.”

Which meant he was also like her ex-husband. How did he convince her that he wasn’t the enemy? That he wasn’t interested in hurting her?

“I never forgot that night we shared,” she said, not quite meeting his gaze. “After a while I convinced myself that I’d made it better than it was in my mind. That no one was that good. After last night, I know I was wrong.”

He wanted to tell her that their incredible time in bed together had a whole lot more to do with chemistry than with him, but it was kind of nice having her think he was special.

“At least half of last night was about you,” he said. “You’re very responsive.”

“Not all the time. Pretty much only here. So is this okay? Is this what you want?”

He nodded. “I’ll be your boyfriend.”

She laughed. “That sounds nice. I could use a little normal in my life right now.”

“Normal?” He moved in close and pressed his lips against her ear. “Not normal. I have some very kinky fantasies in mind.”

“Really? Like what?”

Samantha finished her speech to nods and smiles. She collected her materials and returned to her seat at the side of the room.

This had been her first ever presentation to a board of directors and it had been pretty high up on the nightmare scale.

“Sort of like facing down seven stern principals in school?” David asked in a low voice.

“Worse,” she whispered. “Do they all have to look so disapproving?”

“It comes with being on the board. They’re supposed to take things very seriously.”

“Obviously. I’m just glad I wasn’t trying to do stand-up.”

She reached for her cup of coffee and swallowed the tepid liquid. When this was all over, she owed Jack a big apology. He’d insisted everyone practice their presentations several times before the board meeting. They had all endured long evenings, perfecting their pitches.

At the time, she’d thought his anal obsession was foolish. Wouldn’t spontaneity be more interesting? But having just endured the stern expressions and pointed questions, she realized the importance of being prepared.

“I’m up next,” David said as he was called.

Samantha leaned back in her chair and did her best to relax. She’d heard all the talks so many times, she knew what to expect and could tune out the words. So she found herself with a little time on her hands.

She used it to good advantage, turning her head so she caught sight of Jack sitting at the end of the long conference table.

He looked good—all buttoned up and formal in his black suit. If she didn’t know him, he could have seriously intimidated her. But she did know him—every inch of him. And there were some mighty fine inches.

She watched the way he listened intently—as if he hadn’t heard every sentence at least a dozen times—and took notes.

He was a great guy, she thought happily. Smart, caring, funny. The man owned a dog. How was she supposed to resist that? If she hadn’t known about—

Samantha stiffened in her seat as a single thought flashed through her brain, on and off, over and over again. She wasn’t able to think about anything else, and as she considered the truth of the statement, she wondered what on earth she was supposed to do about it.

Jack wasn’t just some guy she’d hooked up with. He wasn’t just an old friend or a new boss or a terrific lover. He was all that and much more.

He was the one who got away.

The board meeting was endless and three kinds of torture, Jack thought when the presentations finally finished. The board excused everyone but Helen and him. He thanked his team as they left and braced himself for the inevitable confrontation. He’d put it off as long as he could, but there was no going back now.

Baynes, the chairman, waited until the door closed before looking at Jack. “You’ve pulled the team together. I’m impressed.”

Jack nodded, but didn’t speak.

“Obviously our goal is to keep Hanson Media Group alive. Between the bad stories in the press and troubles internally, that’s a challenge. You’re well on your way here. The new programs are very exciting. But we need to do more. We need to provide stability over the long haul.”

Several of the board members nodded in agreement. Helen shook her head.

“We don’t have to do anything right now,” she said. “I know where you’re going and it’s too soon. If we simply announce Jack as the new president, it will be seen as a knee-jerk reaction. Let’s think this through.”

Samantha might sing her friend’s praises, but obviously Helen, like the board, was ready to sell him out if that’s what was best for Hanson Media Group.

“Helen, it’s necessary. Do you want to see George’s legacy bankrupt, or worse, lost in some mega-conglomerate takeover?” Baynes shrugged. “I don’t. The only way to keep Hanson Media Group going is to announce a permanent president. Jack, I know you’re anxious to get back to your law practice, but we all have to make sacrifices. It’s time for you to make one. I’m asking you to accept the job.”

Jack looked at the older man. “What sacrifices are being made aside from mine?” he asked calmly.

“You know what I mean,” Baynes told him.

“Actually, I don’t. I’m not interested in running Hanson Media Group any longer than the three months I’ve already agreed to.”

Several of the board members started speaking at once.

“This is a family company. Always has been. You owe it to your father.”

Not an argument designed to get his vote, Jack thought grimly.

“Think of the stockholders. What about them?”

“You’re the best man for the job. The only man.”

Baynes quieted them. “Jack, your family owns the largest percentage of stock, but we still have an obligation to the financial community.”

“I find it hard to believe you can’t come up with a single qualified person to take over this company,” Jack said. “Have you even been looking?”

“You’re the one we want.”

“Has it occurred to any of you that forcing Jack to stay when he doesn’t want to is incredibly foolish?” Helen asked. “Someone unhappy in the position isn’t to anyone’s advantage. Now if he wanted to be here …”

“I don’t,” Jack said flatly.

Baynes narrowed his gaze. “I would think you, Helen, of all people would want a family member in charge of the company.”

She leaned forward. “I agree that Jack is very qualified and I trust him implicitly. But I see no advantage in guilting him into staying on. It’s a short-term solution and I don’t want that. We’re doing fine for the moment. Let’s not make a change before we have to. Leave Jack alone to do his job. In the meantime, we can be looking for a suitable replacement. If there isn’t one, then Jack gets my vote.”

“I don’t like it,” Baynes said.

“Just so we’re all clear,” Helen continued, “until George’s will is read, I control his voting stock, which means I get the final say.” She looked at Jack. “I still believe you owe your father but I’m reluctant to put his legacy in the hands of someone who doesn’t respect his vision.”

Not respecting his father’s vision was the least of it, Jack thought. But before he could protest, Baynes cut in.

“What do you know about the will?” he asked Helen.

“Nothing,” she said. “I’ll find out when everyone else does. That’s not my point. We have time to think this through and make the right decision for Hanson Media Group. As long as the company is moving in the right direction, then I say let it be.”

Samantha paced the length of Jack’s office, then turned around and walked back the other way. He’d already been in with the board for nearly twenty minutes. What on earth did they have to talk about for that long?

Finally he walked in. She hurried over to him.

“All you all right? Did they pressure you to stay?” she asked.

He pulled her close and kissed her forehead. “You’re worried about me.”

“Well, duh. What did you think? Now tell me everything. You didn’t accept the job permanently, did you?”

“What makes you think they asked?”

“It’s just a matter of time until they start pressuring you. You’re doing a great job. Why wouldn’t they want to keep you?”

He led her over to the sofa, then pulled her down next to him. “You’re right. That’s what they wanted. Helen held them off, saying they should make sure they had the right candidate. While I’m not interested in staying, at least she bought me some time.” He took her hand. “She’s not on my side in this. She cares about the company.”

She leaned back into the leather sofa and sighed. “You don’t know that.”

“Actually, I do. I respect her position. If I were her, I’d do the same thing.”

“But you’re not her. You still want to leave.”

“I will leave.”

She looked at him. “Were they all upset?”

“They weren’t happy but until the will is read, Helen controls the majority of the stock. That puts her in power.” He pulled her close. “Don’t kid yourself, though. If she decides she needs me to stay, she’ll be the first one holding out the employment contract.”

“I don’t want to argue about Helen,” she told him.

“Me, either.” He stood and crossed to a glass cabinet by the window. After opening one of the doors, he held up an empty glass. “Want a drink?”

“No, thanks.”

He poured one for himself and took a sip. “I don’t know where everything went wrong with my dad and his sons.”

“You probably never will. Sometimes families have trouble connecting.”

“If Mom hadn’t died …” He shrugged and took another sip.

She stood. There was something different about Jack. He was hurting and that pain made him vulnerable. She’d never seen him as anything but strong and powerful, so this side of him surprised her.

She crossed to him and put her arms around him. “You did the best you could.”

“Maybe. Can we change the subject?”

“Sure.” She gazed up into his eyes. “You were right about making us practice. It made a big difference.”

He smiled and put down his drink. “I’m right about a lot of things.”

“Yes, you are.”

He put his arms around her and drew closer. “I was right about you and the job.”

She laughed. “So we’re going to make a list of all your perfections?”

“I have the time.”

She glanced at the closed door. “Or we could do something else.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Ms. Edwards, it’s the middle of a workday.”

“Yes, it is.”

“Are you making advances at me?”

“Actually, I was just sort of noticing how very big your desk is. I like a big desk.”

Chapter Ten

“You’ve sent them e-mails?” Jack asked, frustrated because he already knew the answer to the question.

“Repeatedly,” Mrs. Wycliff said. “I also sent letters using overnight delivery. I know the letters were received—Evan and Andrew had to sign for them.”

His brothers were ignoring his attempts to get in touch with them. He suspected they were following the financial news and knew about the trouble with the company. He had a feeling neither of them would resurface until things were better or it was time for the reading of the will—whichever came first.

Someone knocked on his open door. He glanced up and saw David standing in the doorway.

Jack excused his assistant and waved in his uncle.

“Did you hear?” he asked.

“Most of it,” David said. “Evan and Andrew are still refusing to get in touch with you?”

Jack nodded. “I don’t suppose either of them has contacted you and asked you not to say anything about it.”

“Sorry, no.”

“We haven’t spoken in years,” Jack said. “How the hell did that happen? When did this family get so screwed up?”

“Your mother’s death didn’t help.”

“I was just thinking that a few days ago. If she’d been alive, so much would have been different, but with her gone it was easy to go our separate ways.”

“George didn’t help,” David admitted. “He was more interested in the business than in his family.”

Jack nodded slowly. “I remember when I was young, people would tell me I was just like him. That always scared me. I knew I loved my father, but I wasn’t sure I liked him. I wanted more than that from my kids.”

“You don’t have any kids,” his uncle reminded him.

“I noticed that, too. After Shelby …” He shook his head. No reason to go there. “I think one of the reasons may be it’s the only way to make sure I don’t repeat his mistakes.”

“Kind of like cutting off your arm to make sure you don’t get a hangnail.”

“You’re saying I’m taking things to the extreme.”

David shrugged. “You know what your father did that you didn’t like. So don’t do that.”

Sounded simple enough. “When I was a kid, I didn’t know what I was doing that made people think I was like him, so I didn’t know how to stop doing it.”

“You’re not a kid anymore.”

“None of us are,” Jack said. “I haven’t talked to Evan and Andrew in years and ever since I’ve been working at this damn company, I miss them. Oh, sure, I want them home to do what they need to be doing. I want them to help out. But I also want to talk to them. Hang out. Like we used to. We were a family once.”

“Maybe it’s time to make that happen again,” David said. “Maybe it’s time to start pulling together instead of pulling apart.”

“I’m willing. What I don’t know is how to do it. I can’t even get my brothers to return my e-mails. I’m ready to resort to threats.”

“Might not be a bad idea. Get them back for any reason, even if it’s just to protect their personal interest.”

“I agree,” Jack said, “but I don’t like it. They’re my brothers. I shouldn’t have to use threats to get them to communicate with me. There has to be another way.”

“I’m out of ideas,” David told him.

Jack was, too, but he knew someone who might not be.

“How do I get my brothers back?” Jack asked.

Helen raised her eyebrows. “Why do you think I would know the answer to that?”

“Because I’ve finally figured out you know us a whole lot better than we know you. I need them here and I’ll do anything to get them in Chicago.”

“Even ask for my help.” She smiled. “Evil stepmothers are often invisible. It can come in handy.”

“I never thought you were evil.”

“I know. You simply didn’t think of me at all. I wasn’t trying to be your mother. I just wanted to be a friend.”

“I couldn’t think of you as anything but my father’s wife.”

“His second wife,” she said. “We all know what that means.”

Had she wanted more? Had she wanted it all?

She didn’t have children, he thought. And at her age, she was unlikely to have any. Had his father been the reason there weren’t any little Helens running around? Maybe George would have had better luck with a second family.

She held up both her hands. “Okay, this conversation is getting out of hand. Since your dad died, I’ve been living on the emotional edge and if we continue like this any longer, I’m going to find myself sobbing uncontrollably. I think we’d both find that uncomfortable. So let’s talk about your brothers. Who do you want to start with?”

“I’ll let you pick.”

She considered for a moment. “Andrew will come home for money. You’re going to have to be blunt. Either he shows up or you cut him off. Cruel but effective. You might want to start by cutting off one of his credit cards so he gets the message.”

“Done,” Jack said. “And Evan?”

Helen sighed. “He’ll come home for the reading of the will. He always wanted to be close to George and he’ll be looking for closure.”

“Then if Dad left him anything, it would prove Evan mattered to him?”

“Something like that.”

“I hope he’s not disappointed,” Jack muttered.

“Me, too.”

“I know you loved the old man, but he wasn’t exactly father of the year.”

Helen nodded slowly. “He tried, in his own flawed way. He loved you all.”

“He loved the business more.”

“No. He loved it differently. It was safe to let everyone know how he felt about the business. It never went away and did something he didn’t approve of.”

“Like his sons,” Jack said.

“Some parents have trouble understanding that when a child makes a decision that the parent doesn’t approve of, it’s not personal. Children are their own people—they have to make their own lives.”

“My father wanted me to live his life.”

She smiled. “He couldn’t understand that what you chose to do for your career had nothing to do with him. He’s the one who gave you choices, and then he was angry with what you picked.”

“So was I,” Jack admitted. “It was as if he’d changed the rules partway through the game.”

“He had, but he still loved you.”

Jack studied the woman who had married his father. She looked different since the funeral. She’d become elegant in her sorrow.

He could see why his father had been drawn to her. The combination of brains and beauty.

“You were good to him,” he said.

She smiled. “You don’t actually know that.”

“Yes, I do. It’s there in the way you talk about him. You were more than he deserved. He got lucky when he picked you.”

“Maybe I was the lucky one.”

She was consistent. He would give her that.

He narrowed his gaze. “You’re good at this, at listening and offering just the right amount of advice and encouragement. You should have had children of your own.”

Helen stiffened slightly, which answered the question he hadn’t asked.

“I, ah—”

“It was him, wasn’t it? He said he didn’t want to start another family.”

She sighed. “It seemed like the right decision at the time.”

“And now?” he asked.

“There’s no going back.”

He had the feeling that she hadn’t asked for much in her marriage, but his father had refused her the one thing she’d really wanted.

“He was a selfish bastard.”

“Don’t say that. I made my choices and I loved your father. Knowing what I know now, I wouldn’t change anything. He was a great man.” She held up her hand. “You don’t have to agree with me on that, but I know it to be true. I loved him. I will never love that way again.”

There was a certainty and a power in the way she spoke. For the first time in his life, he envied his father. Not because he had any romantic feelings for Helen, but because the old man had been loved completely. Helen saw his faults and accepted them. She believed he was the great love of her life.

At one time Jack had wanted that for himself. He’d believed he’d found it with Shelby, but he’d been wrong.

“Back up,” Jack said.

Samantha held in a low moan. “See, I was thinking I could go through life in Drive rather than Reverse. Sort of like letting go of the past. Don’t you think that’s important? To always move forward? It’s a Zen thing. Or if not Zen, then something else Zen-like.” She smiled brightly.

Jack looked at her. “We’re talking about driving, not your life, and one isn’t a metaphor for the other. You’re going to have to learn to back up the car at some point, so why not now?”

She’d been afraid he was going to get all logical on her. “The Zen thing didn’t move you even a little?”

“No.”

“But you have to admit it was clever.”

“Very clever. Now back into the parking space.”

Had he always been this imperious? she thought as she carefully checked the empty parking lot.

There weren’t any other cars to be seen, just ominous white lines marking parking spaces. Very small parking spaces.

“Go slowly,” Jack told her. “Think about where you want the car to go, not where it is. Check for anything in the way, then back up slowly.”

She wasn’t sure when this had become the advanced class, but she was determined not to balk, despite nearly blinding fear.

She drew in a deep breath and looked at where she wanted the car to go. There was a tree there, spindly and gray. She briefly imagined the car’s rear bumper only a foot or so from the tree, then she put the car in reverse and slowly began to back up.

“Keep your eyes on where you want to be, not where you are,” he said.

“Hey, don’t try to out-Zen the Zen master,” she muttered, still watching the tree. She got closer and closer, then put on the brake and slipped the car into Park.

Jack grinned. “Pretty good,” he said and opened his car door. “Check it out.”

She jumped out and ran to the front of the car. “It’s perfect,” she yelled, ignoring the slight angle of her car. “Perfect. I’m in between the lines and in the middle of the space.” She tilted her head. “Almost.”

Jack walked over and studied the car. She bit her lower lip. Not that she cared what he thought, except she did.

He put an arm around her. “Great job. Let’s do it again.”

Later that evening, Samantha showed up at his condo with salad fixings and two large slices of chocolate-chip cheesecake. As she shifted the bakery bag to her other hand so she could ring the bell, she realized she’d never been to his place before. All their rendezvous had taken place at her apartment.

“Why is that?” she asked as he opened the front door and waved her in.

“Why is what?”

She waited for his kiss before asking, “Why haven’t I been here before? Are you keeping secrets?”

“Have a look around and see for yourself,” he said as he took her packages from her. “I’ll open the wine.”

An invitation to snoop. How often did that happen? But before she could take him up on it, Charlie came racing toward her.

She dropped down and hugged him. “How’s my handsome guy?” she asked as she rubbed his ears. “Did you have fun this morning at the park?”

Charlie yipped his response, then led her into the condo.

The foyer opened onto a large living room with a to-die-for view of the lake and shoreline. To the left was a U-shaped kitchen with a high granite bar and three stools. Beyond that was a dining alcove that also looked out on the water.

“This place must be terrific during thunderstorms,” she said.

“It is. Most weather looks pretty good if you’re up high enough.”

She took the glass of wine he offered and sipped. The color palette was typical guy—cream walls, beige furniture, black accent tables and cabinets for way too many electronics. Except for the fact that everything was new and expensive, the room reminded her a lot of what he’d had in grad school.

“Despite your fear of it,” she said with a grin, “color doesn’t kill. Imagine what this place would be with a red accent pillow or a bowl of green apples.”

“Imagine.”

Even his artwork was subdued—the two seascapes were muted and dark. There was an impressive abstract in the dining room that was mostly reds and oranges.

“This looks out of place,” she said. “I’m guessing you didn’t buy it.”

He stared at the painting for a long time. Samantha got a twisted feeling in her stomach. There were memories in that painting. Good or bad? she wondered, knowing there was danger in both.

“Helen gave me that when I made partner,” he said quietly. “It was her way of reaching out to me. I should have seen that before, but I didn’t.”

Samantha studied the painting again and felt the relief sift through her. “Helen always had great taste.”

He waved toward the entrance to the hallway. “Have at it.”

“If you insist.”

The first door on the right opened to a small powder room with a pedestal sink. Next was a home office with a television on the wall and more law books than she’d ever seen in her life. There was also a very large and squishy-looking bed for Charlie. She found a linen closet—mostly empty and painfully neat, and, last but not least, the master bedroom.

Once again beige ruled the day. A beige-and-cream bedspread covered the dark wood sleigh bed. There weren’t any throw pillows, nothing decorating the nightstands. Just lamps, a clock and a TV remote.

An armoire stood opposite the bed. She would bet money that inside there was a television, because God forbid he should miss a single play of whatever sports game he was watching. More massive windows offered an incredible view, while the master bath had a steam shower and a tub big enough for two.

Gorgeous, she thought, but impersonal. There weren’t any family pictures, no little items picked up on travels, no magazines lying around. No memories.

“What do you think?” he asked as he walked into the room and leaned against the door frame.

“Beautiful, but a little too beige for my taste.”

“Sorry. I tried to get out and buy a throw for the bed, but time got away from me.”

She laughed. “Do you even know what a throw is?”

“Sure. It’s something that you, ah, throw.”

“What does it look like?”

“It’s brown.”

She grinned. “You’re hopeless.”

“You should even be impressed that I could use throw in a sentence.”

“I am.”

He walked toward her and took her hand. “Come on,” he said. “I’ll build us a fire. We’ll get wild back here later.”

“I like that idea.”

She curled up on the sofa while he put in kindling, then actual wood logs. Minutes later, when the fire had taken hold, he joined her on the sofa.

“Comfy?” he asked.