True Colors

by Diana Palmer

  McGee grinned. "Good for you. I never believed you were into vengeance. You're too level-headed."

  Thank God he didn't know it all. It was true, though, that she'd lost her taste for vengeance. She'd realized how much she had to lose, and she felt no real desire to see Cy or Myrna humbled anymore. She just wanted it over. She was tired of the deception, of hiding her true colors under a blanket of assumed poverty and deprivation. It was time to start fighting in the open. Besides all that, she was tired. So tired. Tired to the bone.

  "You've lost a little weight, haven't you?" he asked, frowning.

  "Probably. I always fall off in cold weather. Bring me those figures on the Camfield Computers merger, will you?"

  McGee grimaced. "I can't. Don has them."

  Her eyebrows rifted. "But we're supplying him with support people. Surely we have every right to access the particulars of the contract."

  "I'll see what I can do," McGee said heavily. "You don't realize how much he's involved in everything we do here. Your absence, even if it was that necessary, has given him just the opportunity he needed to come in here and stick his nose into our business."

  She caught her breath. It was a web she and the people who worked for her were being snared in, and Don had woven it very skillfully. "In that case," she said stiffly, "suppose we find out just exactly what he knows and bait a trap for him."

  McGee brightened. "Tell me more."

  "I hope you're still single."

  His eyebrows arched. "I beg your pardon?"

  "Are you?"

  "Well, yes"

  "And is Don's executive secretary still sweet on you?"

  He paled. "Oh, my God, you can't ask me to do that!"

  "Yes, I can," she said easily. "Make reservations at the ritziest club you can find and get her talking. She'll tell you everything she knows."

  "That's not ethical," he muttered.

  "No, it isn't," she agreed. "Neither is Don sneaking in here and trying to kick me out of my own company. Fire with fire. Do it."

  He threw up his hands. "All right. What else?"

  She smiled slowly and folded her arms across her breasts. "Make an alternate list of those stockholders in Harden Properties and see every one of them who lives in Chicago personally. Wine and dine them, show them what profits we can produce for them. But don't tell Don if you get their proxies. I'll do the same thing in Billings. Find one other director you can trust and assign him the other accessible shareholders. It's going to take some fast work, but I think we can swing it, despite Don's attempts to interfere. Are you with me?"

  "What a stupid question," he said. "Here I am, willing to sacrifice myself to that Sanderson woman on the altar of corporate intrigue, and you can question my loyalty! Have you seen her?"

  Meredith had. "I admire your courage," she said, laying it on with a trowel. "We'll have a medal struck, for bravery above and beyond the call of duty."

  "No thanks. I have some awful ideas about where you'd pin it," he muttered. He thought about what he'd said and flushed. "Anything else?" he asked when she grinned.

  "Not a thing. Thanks, McGee."

  "Any time."

  Meredith spent the rest of the day talking on the phone to clients and colleagues, closing deals, agreeing to clauses the legal department insisted on, signing endless letters, answering inquiries and worrying about Don.

  Blake was already in bed by the time she arrived home. She'd forgotten to phone Mrs. Dade, too, worse luck. Well, she could do that tomorrow. She fell into bed and was asleep before her head hit the pillow.

  The next day was a repeat of the first. She convinced Mrs. Dade that she was dying of a virus and pleaded with the woman not to send anyone around to see about her, because it was contagious. She had her day, plus another, now that she had an excuse. Cy was still out of town, from what she'd been able to extract from the woman. So far, so good.

  But she was worn to the nub by the end of the third day. It didn't help that Don stopped by the house that evening to get her signature on yet another contract that should have been processed by her department.

  "You're doing a lot of this, aren't you?" she asked when she'd scrawled her signature on the contract,

  "A lot of what?" he asked innocently.

  "Negotiating contracts on domestic enterprises."

  He shrugged. "You haven't been here," he said uncomfortably. "I was just trying to expedite matters."

  "The Harden board meets next week. I'll expect you out the day it convenes," she said firmly. "Don't disappoint me. And in the meantime," she added, "anything that comes up on the domestic front is to be brought to my attention, by my people. I will expect to be consulted, even if it's only on new toilet paper for the janitorial staff of some second-rate computer supply firm. Is that clear?"

  Don had had few opportunities to see Meredith in fighting form. He felt himself shiver at the ice in her voice and in her eyes. She looked surprisingly like Henry in a temper, and he had a brief qualm about what he was plotting. At least, thank God, she had no idea what he was trying to do. He had guarantees for several of Harden's company proxies, and he was going to get more. In fact, he'd already talked to Cy Harden, tipping him off about the takeover and offering his help. Cy didn't know about Meredith. Don hadn't dared divulge her connection, but Harden had readily agreed to cooperate. That would be his downfall. Don had every intention of grabbing those proxies and ousting Harden. He'd have control of the company, with his own people in position, of the mineral leases, and when he could show that Meredith had done it all for revenge, he'd have Meredith's scalp as well. He'd end up with the whole corporation, as he would have before Meredith came on the scene. All he had to do was keep Meredith, and Harden, in the dark for a little bit longer.

  "Oh, it's clear," Don agreed. He smiled. "I'll try not to overstep again."

  "I rather doubt that," she said. And she didn't smile. Don left shortly thereafter, with a strained atmosphere between them for the first time in memory.

  Blake wailed when she announced that she had to go back to Billings.

  She wiped away the tears. "I'm almost through," she said. "You and Mr. Smith are coming back with me," she added. "We're leaving first thing in the morning."

  His face brightened. "I can come, too?!" he exclaimed.

  She hadn't meant to take him out there. She was afraid that Myrna Harden or some neighbor might see him. She was afraid that Cy might see him. But Blake was upset. She couldn't leave him crying for her. It was just as well. The board meeting was Monday. She'd go to work for two more days, and then she'd spring her little surprise on Cy and his board. And, subsequently, on Don. She'd done her homework. Now she was going to stand the test.

  Hours later, she and Mr. Smith, with Tiny in a carrying case, and Blake boarded the Tennison jet with their bags. The bait was set. Now she had to wait for the quarry to take it.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  » ^ «

  The end of the week dragged. Meredith spent two days at the restaurant and then returned to Great-Aunt Mary's house in the evenings, where Mr. Smith was organizing the meals and housekeeping and watching over Blake. She'd taken him out of kindergarten for the week, so that they could be together.

  Hiding Blake and Smith at the house was the hard thing. The rental car had to be parked nearby in a neighbor's driveway, with permission. Blake could only play outside in the backyard, which had a high privacy fence. He couldn't even be seen in the window. That put a strain on things, but Meredith was so delighted to have him with her that she managed it with a minimum of stress.

  Meanwhile, she worked in the restaurant and at the desk in the library at night, coordinating what McGee found out from Ms. Sanderson with the information she gleaned from other sources. Cy was being sold down the river by Don and a director named Bill, but that was going to have to wait. Right now those mineral leases were too important for diversions of any kind. She had to work fast, to get all the proxies in before the board of directors met Mo
nday night.

  She called her office from Mary's house during her lunch breaks, and by sitting down at her desk in the evenings, she got through at least half her workload. She phoned clients at home at night to advise them of progress on various projects, then talked and read stories to Blake. Meredith and her son were enjoying a closeness they'd never really had, in between her work. The pace in Billings was slower, and she enjoyed the feeling of time it gave her. She wondered vaguely what it would be like to live here, to raise Blake in this wonderful place, to let him grow up where she had. Her childhood had been a happy one, in most ways. The death of her parents before she started school had been painful, but Great-Aunt Mary and Great-Uncle Raven-Walking had been very special substitutes. They'd loved and protected her, and she missed them even now.

  Cy had been out of town, thank God, as long as she had. He still hadn't come around by the time she reported back to work. But Myrna showed up Saturday, and Meredith had to force herself to go to the woman's table and pretend nothing was wrong.

  Myrna didn't look as if she were gloating. She couldn't quite meet Meredith's eyes, either. "Why did you change your mind?" she asked.

  "Because Cy doesn't want me anymore," Meredith said bluntly. She couldn't very well admit her own fears about what might happen if Cy found out about Blake.

  Myrna looked up at her. "He's brooding," she said. "It's been much worse this past week. He looks at me, but he doesn't see me. He doesn't hear what I say to him." She gnawed her lower lip. "He saidthat he told you about his father."

  So that was it. Myrna was afraid that Meredith might talk about it, and damage the oh, so unblemished Harden name.

  "You needn't worry," Meredith said coldly. "Your family skeletons aren't of enough interest to me to gossip about them."

  Myrna frowned slightly and looked up.

  "Wasn't that why you came?" she asked the older woman. "To make sure I didn't say anything?"

  Myrna started to speak, but before she could, Cy entered the restaurant with his redhead on his arm, forcing himself to look infatuated as he led Lara to the table where his mother sat. Myrna looked as surprised as Meredith did, but Meredith wasn't watching the older woman's face and didn't see it.

  "So this is where you are," Cy said curtly, glaring down at his mother with barely a reluctant glance at Meredith. "You were to have lunch at the house with Lara and me. It's waiting."

  "Oh!" Myrna was flustered. It was the first time she'd ever forgotten a dinner engagement. Of course, this Lara person Cy was squiring around was hardly an improvement on Meredith. The woman was nobody's idea of high society. She had money, true enough, but she had no breeding and a tongue like a rapier. Myrna heartily disliked her. She couldn't prevent that from showing, either, as she deferred to Cy and allowed him to half drag her from the restaurant.

  Meredith watched them go with a sinking heart. Well, she'd known he was seeing Lara, why should she let it hurt? She had much more important things on her mind.

  She pleaded a headache and left the restaurant. It didn't matter now if Mrs. Dade fired her. Today was her last day anyway. She'd only kept the job to allay suspicions at this critical time anyway.

  Back at the elegant Harden home, Cy seated Lara next to his mother and then slid onto a chair himself. The maids served, and Cy glared as Lara complained about the weak coffee.

  "Why were you at the restaurant?" he asked his mother suspiciously. "Still trying to protect me?"

  Myrna faltered. "No. II"

  "I thought we were going to the penthouse for lunch," Lara muttered at Cy, ignoring the innuendo around her. "And you didn't mention coming here until you saw your mother's car in town."

  Myrna was taken aback. So she hadn't forgotten. She wondered what Cy's motives were and wondered if confronting Meredith with Lara had played a part.

  "Never mind, baby," Cy told the redhead. He glared across at his mother. "Answer me. Why were you there? What are you and Meredith hiding?"

  "I just want a salad," Lara told one of the maids haughtily, glaring at the beef and potatoes and beans in bowls on the spotless linen tablecloth. "With blue cheese dressing, on the side. I don't want it on the salad. And bring me a Perrier to drink."

  "You'll starve on that," Cy remarked quietly.

  "You'll get fat," Lara countered. "And beef is bad for you. You shouldn't eat it."

  He was gritting his teeth. "You've forgotten that I still own a ranch?"

  Lara bristled. "How cruel. I'll bet you brand the poor cattle. I belong to several animal rights organizations"

  "Not now," he said firmly, and the threat in his dark eyes stopped Lara in midsentence. "Besides, I won't get fat eating lean cuts of beef. I'm not a growing boy anymore."

  "Oh, you are at times," Lara purred outrageously.

  Myrna looked aghast.

  Cy looked at Lara with banked-down fury. He hadn't meant to bring her here. He hadn't really meant to take her by the restaurant. He'd wanted Meredith to think that she was having an affair with him, but it wasn't true. He hadn't touched a woman since Meredith came back to Billings. He couldn't. But there was no way he could admit that now, even if he was bitterly regretting what he'd said to Meredith last Sunday. All he'd thought about since was how he was going to feel when she walked out of his life again. Bringing Lara to the restaurant was a last-ditch attempt to smoke out Meredith's feelings, to see if she still cared despite the way he'd hurt her. One sign, one indication of her interest, and he was ready to put aside his misgivings and give their relationship a real chance. But Meredith hadn't seemed to notice, or care, that Lara was with him.

  His thoughts were interrupted by his mother's icy glare. "I have to see about the invitations to that charity tea I'm giving," Myrna said stiffly, rising. "Enjoy your lunch, Cy. I'llsee you again sometime, I hope, Lara," she lied, her eyes troubled as she left them there.

  Cy watched his mother leave with mixed emotions. "I wish to God I knew what was going on."

  "I guess I embarrassed her," Lara said on a laugh. "Doesn't she know you sleep with women?" she asked Cy bluntly.

  "I don't sleep with you, and you damned well know it," he said, his tone cold and threatening. He got up. "I'll take you home."

  "For heaven's sake, I just said !" Lara protested as he grasped her arm.

  "Let's go," he muttered.

  For the rest of the day, Meredith worried about Myrna Harden's visit. She wondered what the older woman had been about to say to her. But it no longer mattered. All she wanted to do was spring her trap on Cy and get out of Billings. She'd already wasted too much energy and time on a plan that hardly added to her credibility with the firm. Henry would have been ashamed of her for letting personal feelings interfere with the running of his business, despite the fact that she'd come to her senses. But her lapse could still provide Don with enough ammunition to take her on at her own board meeting and win control of the domestic branch.

  She phoned him that Sunday night. "You are coming out for the meeting tomorrow?" she asked.

  "That's the plan. I've got those proxies, and I've been the rounds of the directors. I'm cautiously optimistic that we can carry a vote."

  She hoped that he didn't plan to sell her out, and Cy with her, at the meeting. She had to trust to luck on that matter. "I'll settle for the threat," she said. "If we can use the vote as leverage to get those mineral leases, force Cy into agreeing, I'll be satisfied."

  There was a long pause. "I thought the whole point of the thing was to absorb Harden Properties?"

  "I don't really care that much about taking over the operation, not if it's going to mean sacrificing half our domestic profits to accomplish it. The mineral rights are all we really need, and from what I can find out, Cy has the confidence of his directors. Even if I gain control, I won't be able to oust him and install my own managerial people." She paused to let that sink in. It might give him pause, hold him off until she could decide how to proceed. "Besides that, his company is in a good financial position to re
sist a takeover. It's operating in the black. The shares are commanding a good market price, and his reputation is keeping the company solvent."

  "You've done your homework," Don remarked. "Yes, all that is true. And we'd have to go anywhere from twenty to thirty dollars a share over the market price in an offering to buy out the company. Hardly a sound financial move in our own present slump."

  "I agree. But by expanding our mineral holdings, we could close the deficit and manage a tidy profit. There's a new use for molybdenum that our research people are sitting on right now. If we can get our hands on one mine, we stand to mop up when the demand hits. Moly production is at an all-time low right now, but the Concord Mining Company is still producing moly, and with the lease on that old Wellington property for which Harden Properties holds the mineral rights, we'd be sitting pretty."

  "You're sure you want to go through with this, Kip?" Don asked quietly.

  "No," she said. "But I've wasted too much time and energy to back off now. It's not a vendetta anymore, if that helps. I don't really have to have Cy Harden's head on a stick. I just want his molybdenum rights."

  There was a pregnant pause. "In that case, things may work out very well. I'll be out there tomorrow. Can I bring you anything?"

  "No thanks. I'll see you then."

  The next day went by so slowly that she was actually seeing the seconds pass.

  She wandered out into the backyard, where Mr. Smith and Blake were tossing a ball in the cold wind.

  "Isn't it great here, Mommy?" Blake asked, laughing. "A real backyard! And Mr. Smith says there's a park. Can we go there?"