Torn in Toronto

by Wendy May Andrews

  “The chit was asking about Dalton Industries, Connor. She has been working here for weeks and never questioned anything. Now, within days of meeting with Westridge, she is full of questions about what do we do here and how does it all work.”

  “Did you ask her why the sudden interest?”

  “I did,” he replied, sounding indignant that he would even have to ask.

  “And what did she say?” Connor was getting impatient for information.

  “She said she had been overwhelmed at first with the newness of having a job, but now that she has gotten used to that part, now she wants to know more so that she can be of greater assistance to our callers.”

  “And that didn’t sound reasonable to you?”

  The withering look his assistant cast him would have been amusing if not for how very serious the issues were.

  “No, Dalton, it did not. It’s just too convenient.”

  Connor looked at the man, trying to be objective. Perhaps it was true that his head had been turned by her pretty face and their familiar history. He would like to think he was an astute judge of character. That was how he had become so successful before even reaching thirty years of age. But he knew it was foolish to think he was above such things. No one had ever been truly successful by considering they were immune to susceptibility.

  Allowing his mind to wander to his beautiful telephone operator, Connor wondered if she really was a traitor. He tried to let go of his preconceived loyalty to her due to his long-term friendship with her brother and just think about what he knew of her as an individual and the impressions she gave. He shook his head. His gut told him she was trustworthy. And having already confronted her about Westridge, he didn’t think he could do it again.

  “Thank you, Curtis. I appreciate your perspective. I will take the matter from here. Could you please continue your work on the Gooderham file?”

  Connor interpreted the searching look on his assistant's face as one of concern mingled with relief. Concern for how Connor would handle the matter but relief that he was still employed despite the words that had been exchanged.

  “Very well, boss,” the man said as he left the room.

  “Miss Doherty, could you please come in here?” Connor bellowed.

  “Good morning, Mr. Dalton. Again, I want to say how sorry I am for the scene you walked in on this morning.”

  Connor was surprised that she launched into speech as soon as she entered his room rather than waiting for him to introduce the topic.

  “Would you care to explain to me what exactly it was that I was witnessing?”

  Color rushed to her face revealing her discomfort, but Connor didn’t trust himself to accurately interpret its source.

  “I arrived early this morning in the hopes that I would be able to ask Mr. Curtis or someone else some questions about Dalton Industries. He misinterpreted my interest as an attempt to garner information to assist your competitors. I took exception to his interpretation of the matter, and we exchanged unpleasantries.”

  Connor laughed at her way of expressing the matter.

  “So, how would you have interpreted it?”

  “Well, I know for certain that I would never help your competitors by getting them information about your company, so, armed with that knowledge, I would be glad that my employee or co-worker was showing an interest in helping out the company.”

  Connor grinned at her.

  “I can see your point. But wouldn’t you say the same thing if you were trying to steal business secrets from me?”

  Her gasp of surprise followed by a giggle was as surprising as it was heartwarming.

  “I suppose I would,” she agreed cheerfully before she sighed and asked, “So what are you going to do about this? You should probably dismiss me as you planned last week. You can’t really have someone that you don’t trust being the voice of your company.”

  Connor agreed with her on an intellectual level, but it struck him as being the depth of injustice. If she truly were innocent, it would be an iniquity to dismiss her. Especially if she truly were showing an interest in an effort to help out rather than hinder his operations.

  “The thing is, anyone who has expressed an opinion has been nothing but positive about having you answering their calls. According to Mr. Curtis, you save him and his clerks so much time because everyone places their calls when they can be sure to reach you. He said the calls used to come in all spread out through the day, but now the phone barely makes a sound when you aren’t here.”

  Caitlyn was staring at him with her mouth slightly agape, as though she could hardly believe what he was saying. Then she interrupted the brief silence with a small puff of laughter.

  “Well then, perhaps Mr. Curtis is actually jealous and trying to discredit me.”

  Connor laughed, too. “That’s an astute thought, but I don’t think so. He was actually very supportive of your employment here until he saw you with Westridge.”

  Caitlyn gasped. “It was him that saw us? And he thought he witnessed something nefarious taking place? I’m shocked and appalled.” She paused, looking at him with dejection written all over her face. “And there’s really nothing that can be done, is there?” She shook her head, and Connor feared she was going to burst into a fit of weeping. Her chin wobbled slightly as she looked him in the eye and asked, “How does one go about proving they’re innocent of bad intentions? There really isn’t a way, is there?”

  Connor hardened his heart against her distress. In his experience, women were exceptionally good at faking such feelings. All he had was his business. He wouldn’t allow a pretty woman to put it at any risk. He blinked when Caitlyn stuck out her hand. Without conscious thought, he shook it.

  “Thank you, Mr. Dalton, for this great experience. I’ve enjoyed it far more than you could ever imagine. Well, up until the past few days anyway,” she concluded with a sniff. Without awaiting anything further from him, she turned on her heel and quietly hurried out, only stopping to pick up the handbag she had left on the table with the telephone.

  Chapter Six

  Caitlyn had managed to contain her tears until she was sitting on the streetcar, gazing out the smudged window. And even then, only one managed to escape the confines of her lashes. She quickly dashed it away, irritated that she would allow sorrow to press upon her. She ought to be angry. She was angry. It was so unfair that she was the one who had to leave. She had done nothing wrong.

  Caitlyn wasn’t sure if she ought to laugh or cry when she realized how very delighted her mother was going to be. She wished she could avoid telling her mother, but that was a foolish thought. Caitlyn loved her mother and knew she was only looking out for what she thought was best for her daughter. It was just too bad they couldn’t agree on what that best was.

  “Now what am I going to do?” she muttered to herself before realizing her thoughts had been out loud. She glanced around sheepishly, hoping no one was paying attention to her ramblings.

  For a moment, Caitlyn thought about returning downtown and approaching one of the other businessmen who had tried to offer her a position within their firms, but that thought held little appeal. For one thing, her parents were sure to object. The only reason they had relented and allowed her to work for Dalton Industries was because they knew Connor. And this experience had disheartened her to the entire idea, anyway. The corporate world seemed even more cutthroat than the social one. Caitlyn had thought the catty whispers of other socialites was the worst thing, but apparently businessmen could be even worse. Perhaps her mother was right about marriage being her best option.

  Taking a deep breath and holding it for a moment, Caitlyn tried to breathe out her negative thoughts along with the pent-up breath. Surely there had to be some sort of in between situation for her. If it didn’t already exist, she ought to invent it. That thought brought a smile to her face despite her disquiet. She would have to give the matter more thought. For now, she would return home. She had never been disloyal and som
ehow, despite Connor’s distrust of her, it felt that it would be dishonest to go to another company to work until she had sorted things out, at least in her own mind.

  With a final sniff, Caitlyn lifted her chin and stood. They were nearing her stop. She had done all she could to help Connor’s company. It had been a delightful experience and an adventure she would cherish. Now she would have to face her mother. But given the fact that men were such a disappointment to her, she couldn’t accept that her only solution to her purpose in life was to marry. Especially not the arrogant Englishman her mother favored. If she ever were going to entrust her life into the hands of matrimonial commitment, it would be to someone she could trust would view her as an intellectual partner. And despite Mr. Curtis’ suspicions, Rafe Westridge hadn’t even thought to ask her about her job at Dalton Industries. Because, she was sure, he didn’t think she would be able to tell him anything.

  He would have been right, she thought with despair for a moment as she stepped off the streetcar and onto the sidewalk. But that ended now. Actually, it ended the day she started reading the newspaper. She was already far more informed than she ever had been in her life. She had a rudimentary understanding of how the telephone worked. While she still marveled at the fact that people could be heard from miles away, she somewhat grasped the concepts behind how that happened. It was similar to how the electricity would travel from the plant to their house once the wires were finished being installed. She also was fascinatedly aware of the wrangling in Parliament trying to find a balance between independence from the United Kingdom and loyalty to the Queen. Caitlyn rather thought Queen Victoria was the most brilliant woman ever to have been born from what she had read of her policies. Not that anyone would ever ask Caitlyn for her opinion on the matter, of course, but she had one. And she was proud of the fact that her opinion was based on what she had read rather than on what she was told to feel.

  Caitlyn loved her father and was thrilled that he had championed her desire to take the position with Connor’s company, but that had been a rare occurrence and did not instill her with confidence that any man would consider her capable of doing more than keeping his house. It was as though even her father had considered her position at Dalton Industries as a hobby she would soon lose interest in. Perhaps even Connor had thought that, which was why he hadn’t really fought to support her. He was probably just as glad to have one of his clerks answering the telephone, despite what he had told her about the other companies being interested in her services.

  Marching toward her house, Caitlyn kept her head high despite wanting to curl into a ball upon her bed and weeping her grief away. That would help nothing and would only prove to her mother that she wasn’t capable of holding a position.

  “Hello, Mother, I’m home,” she called as she stepped into the foyer.

  There was no reply. With a start, Caitlyn remembered that her mother would be out making calls. Perhaps she needn’t tell her. It was a corrosive thought that she tried to dispel. She had done enough rebelling of late. She wasn’t going to start lying even if just by omission to further her decline into questionable status in her parents’ minds. But, she thought with a sinking feeling in her heart, she wasn’t looking forward to how delighted her mother was sure to be about her heartbreak.

  Caitlyn paced around the main floor of the house, trying to decide what was best. Ought she go and find another position and present it to her parents as a fait accomplis? Or should she instead resign herself to returning to her previous activities? After the thrill of the business world, the thought of doing needlework and morning calls felt vapid and depressing, but maybe she could find something that would be both fulfilling to her and socially acceptable to her mother. Perhaps a charity would be happy to have her help. She had learned much from her reading of the papers and what the clerks at Dalton Industries had been willing to share with her.

  With surprise, Caitlyn realized it might actually be the best solution. Perhaps she had been foolish not to have thought of it previously. Of course, she wouldn’t have had nearly as much to offer before her brief work experience. So, perhaps this had all been for the best. Caitlyn had always appreciated being able to look on the bright side. But she currently felt a little too sore in the region of her heart to actually think the pain she was feeling was a good thing. She knew, though, that she would always be grateful for the time she had been able to have at Dalton Industries. It was unfortunate that it had ended the way that it had.

  Unfortunate, too, was the fact that she rather suspected she had allowed Connor Dalton to take hold of her heart. Not that he had tried. Caitlyn was quite certain he wouldn’t even want it if he knew she felt that way. She couldn’t be certain why he was so resistant to even thinking about love, but she knew that he was on an instinctive level. He wouldn’t want to hurt her, even though he had, but he also wouldn’t want her love.

  Caitlyn sighed.

  “Well, then, it’s a blessed thing that I’m no longer employed with Dalton Industries, isn’t it? Because it would only hurt worse if more time had gone by.”

  With a decisive nod, Caitlyn stopped her restless pacing, entered her father’s study, sat down at his large, imposing desk, and pulled a sheet of paper toward herself. She needed to think of the various charities she knew about and how best she could make herself useful. If she couldn’t think of them on her own, she would compile a list of the people she thought might be able to point her in the right direction. Even her own mother might be willing to help her find a place for herself under these conditions. Caitlyn grinned. She would ask her in the same context as telling her she was no longer employed. Her mother’s delight would move her to compromise.

  Having a sound plan soothed Caitlyn’s shattered feelings and gave her a sense of control that had been sorely lacking from her life of late, especially in the last few hours. Knowing her mother would accept this choice better than her previous ones was a comfort. Even though she wanted an adventure, it didn’t change the fact that at heart she was rather traditional. It had been a trial to be at odds with her parents.

  But she still wondered what Connor was up to.

  Pushing the unwelcome thoughts from her mind, Caitlyn moved forward with her plans.

  ~~~

  “Rafe Westridge.” Connor could hear the chill in his voice and was impressed with his own restraint that it wasn’t worse. No profanities had been uttered. He was obviously turning civilized. He still didn’t have any proof that the man was committing any crimes against him. Trying to compete, while annoying, wasn’t a crime.

  “Dalton,” the other man acknowledged in his refined, English speech, his sense of superiority coming across clearly. It made Connor grin.

  “I hear you’re making a play for the Yorkville contract.” Connor hadn’t actually heard any such thing, but he thought it would be a good way to gauge the other man’s intentions by his reaction.

  Westridge shrugged before running a hand through his hair. “You seem to have gotten a monopoly on the market in this city, Dalton. You have nothing to fear from me.”

  Connor kept his face neutral although he was feeling a mixture of pride, defeat, and relief. Pride in his accomplishments and the strength of his company, defeat over his mistreatment of Caitlyn, and relief that he hadn’t been completely misled about the Englishman. But it was a little hollow. It would seem that he was going to win out over Westridge’s efforts to best him in business, but was the price too steep?

  “I wouldn’t say I have a monopoly. There are plenty of businesses taking off.”

  Westridge nodded in acknowledgement. “Perhaps you were just the better man in this matter.”

  Connor grinned; he couldn’t help it. “Perhaps,” he accepted with a chuckle.

  “So, will you call off your investigators if I acknowledge my defeat?”

  Now Connor blinked. “I beg your pardon?”

  “Your investigator. Is it Bruce? I can’t say that I appreciate being tailed about town.”r />
  When Connor only gazed at him, the Englishman’s grin turned a little sly. “You might be better at making deals here in this colonial city, but your investigator doesn’t have anything over the English. I spotted him the minute he started following me about. What were you hoping to accomplish by having him look into me? Did you think I was trying to sabotage you or something?”

  Connor shrugged. “It had been suggested by some of my advisors.”

  Westridge snorted. “My father is the earl of Sutcliffe. I would never stoop to sabotage.”

  “Welcome to Canada, Westridge. This might come as a surprise, but no one here cares who your father might be. You’ll be judged by your own actions, not who sired you.”

  The other man appeared startled by Connor’s words but then a grin spread across his features. “You’re quite right, Dalton, thank you for that reminder. I do believe I’ll hie myself off to a fresher start elsewhere and keep your words in mind.”

  When Westridge suddenly stuck out his hand, Connor blinked at it for a moment. It was certainly not what he had been expecting from the Englishman. With a sudden flash of humor, he shook the proffered hand.

  “Where will you go?”

  “I probably ought not to tell you or you’ll follow after me and best me there, too.”

  Connor chuckled. “If it’s anywhere but here, I won’t concern myself with you. I have all I can handle here.”

  Westridge returned his grin with one of his own. “I’ve learned my lessons here. I’ll do much better in Winnipeg.”

  “Winnipeg?” Connor couldn’t help the shock in his voice. “Are you certain you’re up for the challenge?”

  “More than certain.”

  Connor was actually a little impressed with the man’s directness. Perhaps he wasn’t the charlatan he had thought.

  “Before you go, can I ask you a question?”

  “I suppose.” The words were grudging but the tone was not.

  “Were you attempting to gather information about Dalton Industries from Caitlyn?”