by SJ McCoy
“Do coincidences like this happen to you a lot? Or is it the kind of coincidence that you set up?”
“What do you mean? How could I set it up? And more to the point, why would I?” He was starting to wonder if Mary Ellen was one of those crazy women.
She blew out a frustrated sigh. “I have no idea how or why you would, but it’s just a little too much to believe.”
“I agree. It’s a huge coincidence, but come on. I’m not the bad guy here.”
She laughed out loud at that. “You don’t think so?”
“Why would I?”
“Oh, come on! You’re the hatchet man Chelsea’s father has brought in. You’re the one who’s supposed to destroy everything she’s working toward. You’re going to sacrifice all her ideals in the name of profit. You’d better start seeing yourself as the bad guy—you can bet your ass Chelsea does.”
Grant blew out a sigh. “I’m not the one. It’s her father.”
Mary Ellen made a face but didn’t say anything before the door opened behind her. “Mary El, can you …Oh, hi, Grant. I thought you were in with Chelsea and my father.”
“I was.” He shot a meaningful look at Mary Ellen. “But I thought it best that they should thrash out exactly what it is they want me to achieve before I get down to work.”
Cameron nodded. “Well done. How did you manage that? I’ve been trying to get the two of them to sit down and talk about it for months.”
Grant smiled. “It’s easier for me. I’m not family. I’m being paid to do a job, and I refuse to start that job until everyone’s clear about what exactly it is.”
“Good. I hope they can finally get their heads together and figure it out.”
“I hope so, too. Even though it may mean that my services aren’t required.”
“From what I understand, Chelsea needs some help getting straightened out, even if dad allows her to keep doing what she’s doing,” said Cameron. He met Grant’s gaze. “And if it does turn out to be a short job, there’s still more you could do around here. I have a couple of divisions where I could use an outside eye to help me identify areas we could improve.”
Grant smiled. “I’d love to help.”
Cameron checked his watch. “How long have you got?”
“I’m free till two.”
“Great. Come on in to my office. We’ll talk about it.”
Grant smiled at Mary Ellen as he followed Cameron. She narrowed her eyes at him, but at least seemed less hostile than she had at first.
~ ~ ~
Chelsea blew out a sigh and placed her elbows on the table. She folded her hands together and rested her chin on them. “We’re not getting anywhere, Dad. We’re just going around and around in circles. I know what you want; I don’t agree that it’s the right way. You know what I want, and you don’t agree.”
He mirrored her gesture, placing his chin on his own hands and gave her a sad smile. “I know, buttercup.”
That made her smile. She took a hanky out of her pocket and waved it like a white flag. “Can we call a truce and try to thrash out some kind of compromise?”
“We can try.”
It took an hour and a half, but they finally came up with a compromise she could live with.
Her dad smiled. “I know you don’t like it much, but it’s for the best.”
She nodded. “I know you believe that, and I also know that you’ve got more years’ experience in this business than I’ve been alive. So, contrary to what you think, I’m fine to bow to your wisdom—as long as we stick to our agreement.”
“We will. You know my word is my bond.”
“I do. So, for the next three months I’ll suck it up and do as much as I can your way, but you know full well that I’m just biding my time.”
“Of course, I do. You think that you can just ride out the time and pay lip service while Grant is here and that you’ll then be able to go back to your way.”
She raised her eyebrows at him with a smile.
“If Zosca is going to remain a part of Hamilton-Groves, it needs to turn a profit.”
“It does.” She stopped herself, there was no point getting defensive. “And I know the profit margins could be higher than they are, but that would mean making cuts in areas I don’t want to cut.”
Her father nodded. “So, for the next three months, we will assess exactly what those areas are, and what cuts and efficiencies could be made. After that time, we’ll have enough data to know.”
“We will, but I think we already know what conclusion we’ll reach, don’t you?”
“I do. We’ll find ourselves in the same position we are now, only with facts to back it up. The winery could be run more efficiently for greater profit—but you don’t want to because you don’t see profit as the ultimate goal.”
She nodded. “It is a goal. Obviously, it’s a necessity, but it’s not my only goal or the most important one.” She was glad her dad finally understood that.
“That’s all fine and dandy, and in some ways admirable, but …” He shook his head. “It’s not what the business is about.”
“But it can be.”
He shook his head again, more firmly this time. “Not my business,”
“Then maybe it’s time that Zosca becomes my business.”
He scowled.
“I mean, maybe it’s time for me to buy it from you. To make it my own. Then I can run it as I see fit and live or die by my own decisions.”
Her dad held her gaze. She had no idea what he was thinking. “That may be the way to go.”
Wow! She’d thought about it a lot the last few months, but she’d considered it more of a daydream. Now he was saying that it could become a reality. “So, what are you saying?”
“That we should take the next three months to have Grant go through every aspect of the business and identify where we could improve. I’ll expect him to report back to me at the end of that time. When he does, we’ll sit down together and see if you want to implement his suggestions. If not, then I suppose it’ll be crunch time. We’ll have to decide if you’re going to buy me out, or if I’m going to bring someone else to run it.”
She sucked in a deep breath. “You can’t bring someone else in. They’d destroy everything I’m building.”
Her dad pursed his lips. “At that point, it won’t matter.”
“I suppose not. If I can’t live with what Grant suggests, then it’s going to be all or nothing for me, isn’t it? Buy it or get out.”
“I’m afraid so, buttercup. I’d hoped Zosca would be a project that we could work on together, but that wasn’t fair to you. I wanted you to run the place my way. I didn’t consider that you’d have your own way.” He shrugged and gave her a sad smile. “I have to accept that my little girl is all grown up.”
“Aww, Dad.”
He smiled. “It’s a good thing. Either this exercise with Grant will uncover a middle ground where we’ll both be happy, or it’ll force us to part ways. At least, in business, and I’d say that’s much healthier, wouldn’t you?”
“Yeah.”
“And what do you think of Grant. Do you like him?”
She stared at him, wondering how she should answer.
“Of course, you only met him for a matter of minutes. You’ve hardly had a chance to get more than a first impression. I can tell you, I like him. I think he should be easy to get along with. And I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have talked about you being under him.”
Chelsea closed her eyes for a moment. She wished he hadn’t mentioned that again. Just like the first time he’d said it, she remembered being under Grant—looking up into his deep blue eyes as she wrapped her legs around his and their bodies moved together. “It’s okay. I know I won’t be under him.” No way could she do that again. He might not be the enemy she’d like to paint him as, but she’d have to keep her distance from him.
~ ~ ~
Cameron shook Grant’s
hand with a smile. “I didn’t expect to take up so much of your time, but I’m glad it worked out this way.”
Grant grinned. “I am too.” Cameron had talked him through several divisions of Hamilton-Groves where they both believed his services could prove very useful. There could be a couple of years’ worth of work in it for him and some enjoyable challenges.
“All of that is for down the road, though. Your first challenge is Zosca, and I don’t envy you that one.”
Grant wasn’t overly thrilled at getting embroiled in a struggle between Chelsea and her father, but he couldn’t deny that he liked the idea of getting to spend more time with her. He couldn’t deny it, but he couldn’t admit it to Cameron either. “The first step is figuring out what the goals are.” He checked his watch. “And I should probably get back to the boardroom and see if they’ve made any progress with that.”
Cameron nodded. “I’ll get Mary Ellen to show you back there.” He opened the door to his office. “Mary Ellen?”
“Yes, sir. What can I do for you, sir?”
That puzzled Grant. Mary Ellen was obviously not simply a secretary, but the way she spoke to Cameron surprised him. She seemed to have an attitude, and he had a nasty feeling that it had something to do with him.
“Could you show Grant back to the boardroom?”
She looked as though he’d asked her to take the trash out. “I could.”
Grant didn’t miss the way Cameron raised an eyebrow at her. He didn’t look like a boss scolding an employee, more like a guy asking his friend what she was pissed about.
“Follow me.” She gave Grant the fakest smile he’d ever seen.
“I’m sure I’ll see you around,” said Cameron, “But let’s talk later? I’ll call you.”
“Great.” Grant nodded then scurried after Mary Ellen who wasn’t hanging around for him. “I’m sorry we got off on the wrong foot …” he began.
She coolly met his gaze. “Are you? Are you really?”
“Of course, I am. You don’t really think I somehow set this up, do you? Why would I do that? Why would anyone do that?”
She made a face. “I don’t know, but I don’t like it. I can’t imagine how poor Chelsea felt when you walked into that boardroom with her dad.”
“She wasn’t thrilled. I can tell you that much. I was thrown for a loop myself.” He hesitated, but then decided if he was going to get her on his side, he should be completely open. “Can you imagine how I felt, standing there with the great Cole Hamilton Sr., being introduced to his daughter? His daughter whom I already know—better than most.”
Mary Ellen’s lips twitched, he hoped it was a smile. It was. She pressed her lips together and shook her head, but she couldn’t hold it in. “Oh my God! No. I can’t imagine.”
He chuckled. “It wasn’t fun, believe me. My heart was beating so loudly I thought he must be able to hear it, too. And, poor Chelsea looked horrified.” He met Mary Ellen’s gaze with a smile. “She held it together, though. She didn’t drop her coffee or anything.”
Mary Ellen laughed. “I was just stunned. I’d been waiting to see if I’d catch a glimpse of this horrible man who’s coming in to carve up Zosca and make Chelsea miserable, and then it turned out it was you!”
He sighed. “I’m not here to make her miserable. I’m not here to carve up the company. I’m here to help her—to make it a better company.”
“I guess that depends on how you define what’s good and what’s better.”
“I guess it does, and from what I’ve seen and pieced together, Chelsea cares more about the quality of her wines, than she does about the finances.”
“Zosca’s doing okay!”
“I know. I didn’t say it isn’t.” He’d hoped he was getting Mary Ellen on his side. He didn’t want her to get all defensive again.
“Sorry. You didn’t. I just assume that you’d see that as a bad thing.”
“I don’t. I’m only here to help Zosca achieve its goals. I just need to know what those goals are.”
They were outside the boardroom now. “Well, hopefully, she and her dad can agree on the goals, but I’m afraid you’re going to be helping her dad achieve what he wants, at her expense. She’s my friend, she’s a great winemaker, and she’s a sweet, generous spirit. So, I’ll be reserving judgment till I see how it goes.”
Grant nodded. “Fair enough. But I’m really not here to hurt her.”
“Let’s hope you don’t then.” Mary Ellen opened the door with another unconvincing smile.
“Grant, come on in,” said Mr. Hamilton.
Grant smiled and took a seat at the huge table opposite Chelsea. He caught her eye, hoping to make some kind of connection, but all he got was a brief nod of her head.
“I’m pleased to tell you that Chelsea and I have reached a compromise.”
Grant almost hoped that he’d decided to let her run Zosca her way and that they didn’t need him anymore. He could talk to Cameron and get involved in a different project.
“Yes,” said Chelsea. “I’m afraid you’re not going to be able to tear the company apart, just yet.”
Her father scowled at her, but Chelsea folded her arms defiantly.
Grant looked to Mr. Hamilton to explain. “We’d like you to work alongside Chelsea for the next few months. I’d like you to fully audit and assess all operations. I’d like a written report at the end of the period, with your recommendations on how to improve the business. At that point, we’ll decide whether we implement your suggestions or whether Chelsea would rather continue to run things her way—under her own steam.”
Grant wasn’t sure he understood. “I can run a full audit of the books and give you written recommendations if that’s all you’re looking for. I don’t need to be here hands on to do that.”
Chelsea nodded. “I think that would be much better.”
“No.” Mr. Hamilton spoke so firmly it surprised them. “I want the two of you to work together.” He looked at Chelsea then turned to Grant.
Grant nodded. He wasn’t sure what he was getting into, but if it meant that he got to be around Chelsea every day for the next few months, then he was in. He looked at her. “I’m up for it unless you have any reservations?”
She pursed her lips.
“Chelsea?”
Eventually, she nodded.
“Good, then we’re all settled,” said Mr. Hamilton with a smile. “I have an appointment.” He checked his watch. “So, I’ll leave you two to get started.”
Chelsea looked up at him. “What? You’re leaving? You’re not going to stay and tell us what you want and don’t want?”
Mr. Hamilton smiled. “No. I’m going to leave the two of you to get to know each other and to figure out how you’re going to work together.” He smiled at Grant then turned back to her. “I know I’m leaving you in good hands. We can all meet here on Friday, and you can update me then.” He nodded at Grant on his way out.
Once the door had closed behind him, Grant held his breath and waited.
Chelsea stared at him.
He’d expected some kind of outburst, maybe accusations of setting this up somehow, but she just stared. He stared back. She was beautiful. He’d never have guessed that the girl in the red dress on Saturday would look just as hot in a sharp suit on Monday morning. Eventually, he smiled. “So much for goodbye, huh?”
She let out a small chuckle. “Yeah. I wasn’t expecting to ever see you again.”
“Me neither, but I’m glad.”
Her smile faded. “No. That was a one off. This is business, purely and strictly business.”
Disappointment settled in the pit of his stomach, though it had no reason to—he’d already known there could be no repeat performances of Saturday night if they were going to be working together. “I know. I don’t mix the two, but still, I’m glad that you weren’t the girl who walked out of my life after one magical night and left me forever wondering.” Why i
n the hell had he just said that?
She stared at him. “Wondering what?”
He shrugged. “It doesn’t really matter, does it? I don’t need to wonder. I know. You’re the girl who is doing a pretty good job of running a winery as a start-up boutique label.”
She smiled. “You get it?!”
He smiled back. “I get it. I see what you’re doing, and I understand why.” His smile faded. “Unfortunately, I also see where your father’s coming from.”
She blew out a sigh. “So do I. I’m not stupid.”
“I didn’t for one second think you were. Tell me how you see this working out.”
She shrugged. “I see me trying to keep you off my back while I spend the next three months trying to figure out how I buy the place.”
Grant nodded slowly.
She met his gaze. “Don’t look at me like that. I know what you’re thinking.”
“Enlighten me?”
“You’re thinking that Daddy will just give me the winery and it’ll all be taken care of. The spoilt little rich girl will get what she wants and run it into the ground. Well, let me tell you, it doesn’t work that way around here. We have to work for everything—earn it, just like anyone else. Granted, we get opportunities that most people don’t, but as you can tell, given the situation, if we don’t earn it, we don’t get to keep it.”
Grant held up both hands. “Hey, don’t go off-loading your issues on me. I wasn’t thinking any of that, though it does help me to understand what we’re doing here.”
He was relieved when she sighed. “I apologize. I may be a little tense.”
He smiled. “I think that’s understandable.” He was proud of himself for not offering a massage to help her relax. “I know you don’t believe it, but I’m here to help you.”
She shook her head. “Nope. Dad brought you in to help him prove that I’m not fit to run Zosca.”
“I think you know that’s not true. Even I know it’s not, so let’s not go down that road?” He wondered how she’d react to being called out and was pleasantly surprised when she nodded grudgingly.
“Yeah, sorry. But you’re not here to help me. You’re here to help Zosca. It can be a great winery.”