Logan knew when he saw Michael Sprague’s number on his cell phone that the call was going to be bad news. The only reason his father’s college buddy, and now board president of Marshall Resorts, would bother him in Chicago would be with bad news.
Sprague had been the one to tell him that his father had run off with an intern in Japan. He’d called him to let him know his mother, Mimi, was causing a scene in the Milan airport because her credit card had been declined. Sprague had somehow been appointed as damage control agent, and whenever he called Logan, it wasn’t a good thing.
“Should I have a couple of Tylenol and a stiff drink ready?” Logan asked as he sat at his desk and held his breath.
“It’s not good, I’ll tell you that much.” The tightness in Sprague’s voice spoke volumes.
“Open the e-mail I just sent you,” he continued as Logan popped open his computer. He found the link Sprague sent and followed it.
Scanning the headlines, Logan scrubbed his hand over his face. “What happened?” he asked, unable to believe that his brother’s project could have failed so miserably before they had even broken ground.
“Robbie has no idea. He was completely blindsided and doesn’t even know where to begin.”
Logan wasn’t surprised that Robbie didn’t know where to begin. Robbie was a spoiled rich kid who had never ventured outside of their father’s shadow a single day in his life. Unlike his older brother, Logan had gone to a college no Marshall man had gone to, studied architecture like no Marshall man had bothered to, and had chosen to open his own firm that specialized in sustainable design. He had run far and fast away from the shadow of his family. He had always been driven to prove himself outside of their arena, and he had succeeded.
“We need you, Logan,” Sprague said, finally getting to the point. For a man like Sprague to say those words, Logan knew things must be pretty dire.
Logan had been an acting vice president for a few years after college out of respect to his father, who had needed him. He’d gotten Lawrence Marshall’s blessing to go off on his own and move to Chicago when Robbie had finally calmed down enough from his partying ways to take on more leadership in the company. That had been four years ago, but Sprague still called Logan, not Robbie, when things looked bad or when situations developed.
“I’m not really interested right now.” Logan didn’t want any part of whatever mess his brother had gotten the company in. He didn’t want to have daily contact with his arrogant mother. He had fought hard for his independence, and he had no desire to give it up just because of one bump in the road for the company.
“We think Robbie was betrayed by one of his own executives,” the board president pressed. That caught Logan’s attention. “He’s been doing a good job the past few quarters, and we were excited to see what he could do with the new project in Florida. This Carlton Group fiasco really came out of nowhere, and we need you to help us out of the tailspin.”
There wasn’t much he could do, and he told Sprague so.
“Nonsense,” the man persisted. “Come up to Portland. You don’t have to worry about finding the traitor. I have that covered. Your uncle Rupert has already identified some suspicious activity, and he’s working on clarifying the whole issue. He’ll brief us on the results of his investigation as soon as it’s finished. But this has been such a low blow and our reputation is at stake. We have no time to waste. Even though the traitor is still among us, we have to sort out the situation, and get a new project moving that the company can get behind. At this moment, you’re the only person who can do that. Please, Logan, help us keep this ship afloat. Once it’s done, we won’t ask you to stay on. You can return to Chicago and keep building your environmentally friendly shopping malls if that’s what you want.” Logan could hear the sarcasm in his voice. Michael, like his mother, had never understood why he had turned his back on the family business.
He took a deep breath and held it while he considered his options. On one hand, he really didn’t want to go to Portland and sort out the mess Robbie and his team had made. On the other, it was his family and, if the fiasco grew any bigger, it could have a huge impact on a lot of loyal employees who had worked for the Marshall family for years. He couldn’t let that happen.
“Fine.” He sighed. “I’ll be there tomorrow.”
Logan sat in the sauna of his private health club and rolled his eyes when he saw the number flashing on his screen. For once, he would actually prefer it was a member of his dysfunctional family. That would be easier to deal with and less annoying than having to disengage himself from Crystal again.
“Crystal,” he said by way of greeting. With Crystal Edison, the fiery redheaded chef and owner of a downtown hotspot called Gingerbread, he had to be direct and to the point or he would get run over by her persistence.
“Darling,” she purred into the receiver. “You never answer my e-mails anymore. Where are you? When can we see each other again?”
He hadn’t seen Crystal in at least two months, and he had clarified that was the last time as he left. He didn’t do the whole relationship thing. He never had. After the presentation of one of his projects, a journalist once asked him, “Do you have time for love?” “What’s love?” he replied with a smirk before rushing through the crowd into his car. “One of the most eligible bachelors in Chicago doesn’t believe in love,” the reporter titled her article in a local newspaper. “That’s not what I meant,” he whispered to himself when he saw the headline. He didn’t bother to set the record straight when his friends joked about his reputation as someone who avoided commitment. That reputation actually served him well. Usually, it kept women from assuming they could change him. Crystal was either less observant or more persistent than most.
Both his friends and the women who were interested in him would be shocked to know how endearing he found observing old couples holding hands after spending a lifetime together. Sometimes, while cycling in the park on Sunday morning, he watched them feed the ducks and wondered whether there was anything more beautiful in life than growing old with someone who was truly meant for you, loving and being loved until your last breath and beyond. He had never shared these thoughts with anyone though. It seemed to him that, in his world, self-interest prevailed over everything else. He had seen enough evidence of that in those who surrounded him, starting from his own parents to the men and women he interacted with daily. People became so blinded by their obsession with material riches that they sacrificed all human connection. He longed for something different, something real, but wherever he turned, he found emptiness. In truth, he didn’t think a woman who could ever see beyond his wealth and power to love him for who he truly was even existed. He had decided long ago that he would rather be alone than spend his life with the wrong person.
Crystal’s pursuit of him had gone to an uncomfortable level. She didn’t care at all about who he was in his heart. She cared about his reputation and his power. The fact that she never even bothered to hide that disgusted him.
“I’m sorry, Crystal, but I’m busy,” he said. “And I’m about to get busier. I’m heading to Portland for a few weeks to work. Besides that, I’m pretty sure we were over the last time we talked.”
He held on to the slightest inkling of hope that she would take the hint, but it was in vain.
“Logan Marshall, you’re in denial. I know you’re into your whole ‘freedom’ thing, and I’ve respected that, but you can’t deny what a powerful couple we make. The society pages go nuts when we go to events together. We’re getting too big for the local media. People love us together.”
Except Logan. Logan didn’t exactly love the two of them together. He started to distance himself from her when he realized that she was pushy and vain, and he was particularly irritated by the fact that she was doing her best to become a media darling.
She was sure that, with her attitude and Logan Marshall’s money and looks, they could easily become a new power couple, capable of drawing not only the attention of the loca
l, but also national and even international media. She had told him once, without a trace of humor in her voice, that she believed a reality show about their marriage would get amazing ratings.
“Crystal, I’ve got to go. Like I said, I have to go to Portland for a few weeks and won’t be able to talk.”
When he finally ended the conversation, he closed his eyes. The beautiful face of the woman whom he had so inappropriately approached at the restaurant in Aspen two weeks ago was waiting for him the moment he pressed his eyelids shut. There was something about her, about the way she looked at him, the way she smiled, the way she teased him, that made him wish they had met under different circumstances.
He heard his phone chime. Another text from Crystal. He loved Chicago, but part of him sincerely hoped he’d find something in Portland to delay him. Maybe a prolonged absence would help Crystal see that they were not meant to be.
Chapter 4
Emily
The Marshall Resorts executive team never met again that afternoon when the Carlton Group fiasco had been announced. Instead, the entire Marshall group headquarters staff spent the rest of the day in a whirlwind of activity. There were speeches to make, reporters’ questions to answer and general damage control to do. Part of Emily's new job was to oversee and implement many of those things.
Nothing like jumping right into the thick of things on your first day, she thought as she braced herself for the storm ahead.
She went home late that night, kicked off her shoes, and collapsed on her new couch. It had not exactly been the first day of her dreams, but over the course of the day, she had proven herself to be valuable in the company's time of need. She answered countless inquiries from nosy journalists and even managed to sneak in a quick meeting with Robbie to get more answers about the situation. It turned out he didn't know much about it either and had been blindsided by the Carlton Group’s move. Robbie wasn't exactly known for his business acumen, but Emily knew his heart was in the right place and he only wanted the best for Marshall Resorts.
While catching up on her favorite cooking shows, she sat back and ate the leftover salad she’d been unable to finish at lunch. She loved cooking, but she rarely cooked when she was alone. What she particularly enjoyed was cooking for others—her parents, her niece, her friends. While she dated Jason, she often surprised him with new recipes when he came over to her place for dinner. She didn’t miss him anymore. The coldness with which he ended their relationship and dismissed their plans for the future as “kids’ fantasies” showed her that he wasn’t the man she believed him to be.
What she did miss, though, was sharing those little daily rituals with someone. Things as simple as grocery shopping for dinner ingredients or washing the dishes together after a tasty meal. All those things could be magical if done with the right person. Emily couldn’t help but scold herself for having ever believed that Jason could be that person. She remembered the man sitting across from her at the restaurant in Aspen. For a moment, she imagined him seated at the table in her new kitchen, eating her much acclaimed blueberry cobbler and sipping a cup of coffee while telling her about his day. She smiled at the thought that he would fall in love with her if he ever tasted that blueberry cobbler.
Suddenly, her phone pinged, alerting her to a new e-mail. It was a group message to the executive team from Robbie.
“Just finished meeting with our board. Executive team meeting tomorrow morning at 9:00 a.m. Be on time.”
It didn’t convey much and that didn’t make falling asleep easy as Bertha’s words bounced around in Emily’s head. What if they didn’t need to pay for the assistant vice president of public relations now that there was going to be no Florida expansion? She took a deep breath as she washed her makeup off and brushed her teeth before settling into bed.
The next morning, Emily could hardly keep her nerves in check as she moved through a quick breakfast and easy commute into work. Almost too easy. She’d meant to get to work a few minutes before 8:00 a.m. but found herself scanning her employee badge through security at 7:35 a.m. She hissed under her breath when she stopped by the coffee kiosk on the first floor and saw that it didn’t open for another twenty-five minutes. Severely under-caffeinated and overanxious, she took the stairs to her third-floor office and let herself in. She shut the door behind her and didn’t pull the shades up. She wanted to avoid looking overly eager to those who would be arriving in the next half hour. Instead, she kept her lights dimmed and turned on her computer to see if any messages had come in since she parked her car.
“Pull yourself together, girl,” she whispered to herself as she massaged her temples. “You’re not going to get fired on your second day.”
Emily occupied herself for the next forty minutes by alphabetizing the files she had brought with her from Los Angeles. She made new folders for each of the press contacts she had spoken to the day before and carefully made the tabs line up. As she was just set to dust her picture frames for the second time, she heard a deeply masculine voice from somewhere down the hallway. Something inside her chest fluttered at the sound of it. It sounded faintly familiar, and she frowned as she strained to listen more carefully.
“...not expecting it to be easy, but they’ll understand or they’ll get another job.”
The voice was strong and commanding as it passed by her door and down the rest of the hallway. Unable to help herself, Emily softly pulled the door open and poked her head out to catch a peek at the speaker. All she could see was the broad back of a tall man with well-styled dark hair. He had a charcoal gray suit on and elegant leather shoes. The voice, the body, they seemed so familiar. Her senses tingled with recognition, but she tried to shake it off. There was no way she could know that man. It was her stressed brain playing tricks on her.
Emily wanted a closer look, but the man stopped walking suddenly and began to turn around, as though he had felt her eyes on him. She didn’t want to be caught gawking, so she dashed back inside her office and pinned herself against the wall. She finally allowed herself to breathe again when she heard the footsteps retreating. She quickly returned to her desk. After answering a couple of e-mails from various news outlets, she saw that it was time for the meeting. Although she was nervous about the meeting’s purpose, she was relieved to finally be able to leave the confines of her office.
This meeting was on the building’s top floor. She had heard whispers of this space being exclusively for the company president and board members when they hosted special vendors and clients. It was also the biggest meeting space they had in the building, so this meant there was going to be quite the audience in attendance.
She followed a group of suited men into the luxury boardroom and found a seat close to the door. It was an old habit from college that she’d never quite gotten over. She hated to feel like she was stuck in a lecture hall, meeting, or presentation and always wanted to have access to a quick getaway. Plus, Bertha Jones struck her as the type who would sit as close to top management as she could, and Emily wanted to keep some distance from her.
She bit down on the inside of her cheek as the blonde sauntered in and gave a round of air kisses to a group who Emily could only guess were board members she was obviously very friendly with. Robbie Marshall was one of the last to arrive, and when he did, people began to take their seats. His clothes were wrinkled and disheveled. His normally coiffed hair was greasy and hung in his face. His eyes looked dull, almost lifeless. He was, clearly, a defeated man.
People continued to find their seats and end their side conversations. Emily scanned the room for a friendly face, failing to find one. Everyone was on high alert, and she braced herself for impact. She did notice, though, that nobody was paying her much attention, and in a situation like this, she took that as a good thing.
Robbie cleared his throat and the chatter died out instantly. He scrubbed a palm over his mouth and took a slow breath. Without meaning to, Emily clenched her hands underneath the table.
“Thank you
, everyone, for coming. I think we can assume that each of you in here knows what happened yesterday with the Carlton Group, so we don’t need to rehash the details again this morning.” Robbie’s voice sounded tired. Emily guessed he’d had a rough night. “We’re here this morning at the board’s request to announce some changes they voted on last night.”
Murmurs around the room started, and Robbie had to talk over them to be heard. He lacked the commanding leadership presence that would have demanded their attention.
“Last night, after a unanimous vote, the Marshall Resorts Board of Directors removed me as president of the company and put my brother Logan in as acting CEO and president while we decide which direction to take forward.” He didn’t look angry about the decision. If anything, he seemed to be resigned to it.
He had hardly finished the sentence when the outcries and the gasps began. Chaos was erupting and taking over the meeting, and Robbie tried, and failed, to reign the crowd back under control.
“If you could, please….” He struggled to get anyone’s attention. “Please, just listen one moment….”
But nobody paid him any attention. From behind her, Emily heard a heavy stride, and as a body moved past her toward the front of the room, she caught a whiff of a new, spicy masculine scent that smelled like cinnamon and leather. She blinked and tried to place it. At the head of the room, the newcomer turned and faced the seated attendees. The baritone of his voice had heads whipping in his direction instantly, and all the ruckus died down in the next breath.
“Hello,” the man said, and Emily struggled to stay vertical in her seat. “My name is Logan Marshall. I’m the new CEO of Marshall Resorts, and I’m here to clean up this mess and guarantee my family’s legacy doesn’t go down in flames.”
Emily hardly heard a word he said. She caught herself staring openmouthed at the man that she hadn’t been able to push from her mind for the last two weeks. The stranger she met in Aspen was no one else but Logan Marshall, her new CEO.
Not Just Another Billionaire Page 2