True Colors

by Diana Palmer

  She missed Cy and Blake terribly. But she grew more tired by the day, and her phone calls dwindled to one every few days because she came back to the house too tired even to talk. The distance between herself and the others in Billings grew daily, and she was powerless to leave Chicago until the board meeting.

  She missed the gossip at the restaurant where she'd worked, and especially the sound of Blake's little voice as he read fairy tales to his father. She missed being with him, and with Cy. She felt desperately alone, more so when she remembered the closeness she and Cy had shared in intimacy and the way he'd seemed to care so deeply for her. Even that was gone now.

  She missed Myrna and Mr. Smith and Mrs. Dougherty's delicious cooking. So easily, she'd stepped into a new life in Billings. Now the old one seemed somehow artificial, without substance. And here she was, tied to it again.

  The worst thing about her enforced absence was the nausea that dogged her as she moved into her fourth week away from Cy and Blake. But she had a very good idea of what it meant, and she only smiled as she refused drinks and canapés. A light blazed in her gray eyes, and her face had a radiance that made her beautiful. This might be the best peace offering she could make to Cy. When he knew, it might bring him back to her. She wouldn't even let herself consider the fear she was going to feel if it didn't.

  "The emergency board meeting is tomorrow," Don reminded her a week later as Holmesa thin man with a nervous demeanorwaited to escort her back to the house after a dinner party where she'd obtained the last vote she needed to retain her seat of office.

  "I haven't forgotten, Don," she said, and smiled at him.

  That smile was beginning to make him nervous. Henry had smiled like that just before he gobbled up a new company or sent someone's head to the block.

  "Meredith I really do respect the work you've done these past few years," he said hesitantly. "Henry would be proud of the load of responsibility that you've shouldered, the profits you've made for his company."

  "I know he would," she said. "It's been fun."

  Interesting phrasing, he thought. His eyes narrowed. She sounded as if she knew what was going to happen to her, and he felt the familiar twinge of guilt. He wanted his brother's company back, but he didn't like the way he was being forced to deal with Meredith.

  "This Harden Properties takeover" he began.

  "We can talk about it tomorrow, Don," she said. "I'm really tired."

  "I've noticed. You've hardly made it past nine o' clock any night this week," he said with reluctant concern.

  She raised her eyebrows, and her hand rested absently on her stomach. "Yes, I know. Too much lost sleep, I guess," she said evasively. "Good night, Don."

  He nodded, watching Holmes escort her down to the limousine. He didn't quite understand what was going on these days. She was in love with Harden, and he with her, if gossip meant anything. Blake was still with the Hardens in Billings. So was Smith. And the last time the untiring Kip Tennison had been totally without energy was when she was pregnant with Blake. He was doing some quick adding, and interesting answers were coming up. Well, tomorrow it would all be over. Kip would be out and he'd be in. Then maybe she'd go back to Billings for good, and he could go on with his own life.

  Cy, meanwhile, had promises of the proxies he needed to undercut Tennison International's stranglehold on his company. He also had a vote of confidence from his directors—with one abstaining. The abstaining vote caught him off guard, because Bill had made it. He knew the man disliked him, but this was a company under siege, and it disturbed him that one of his directors wouldn't stand behind him. It gave him food for thought and made him uneasy. Regardless, he felt confident enough to proceed with his own plans now. He had no inkling of what was going on in Chicago, although there were rumors that a board meeting was scheduled and one of the corporate leaders was under fire. He smiled to himself. Meredith was about to be ousted. Good. Now he could get her back where she belonged and away from the business life of which he was bitterly jealous. He'd had enough of her poorly excused absences. From now on she could let him be the businessman in the family.

  Meredith went to bed early that night and slept late, almost too late. The next morning she dressed hurriedly in a neat oyster cream silk suit with a pale blue blouse and tan accessories, put her hair into a neat twist at her nape and headed downstairs. She could barely keep down two sips of coffee, and she didn't dare try for breakfast. She had to keep her wits about her this morning. Everything depended on it.

  The limousine deposited her at the Tennison International building. It was like history repeating itself. Just so had she arrived for the Harden board meeting, and she'd surprised the directors there. She had a real surprise ready for Don. She hoped he wasn't going to be too disappointed when his sword didn't take off her head.

  The directors were already in their seats when she walked into the boardroom. She smiled down the length of the table and seated herself. Don looked unusually nervous. Meredith, however, didn't have any such misgivings. She had everything she needed in her attaché case, having waited until the last minute to call in those votes and proxies that Don and Cy were certain they had committed. She was ready for anything Don sprang on her.

  After the meeting was called to order, and the minutes were read, Don got to his feet to address the directors. He glanced at Meredith briefly before he began to speak.

  He outlined his interpretation of her approach to the Harden Properties takeovertouching on her vendetta, on her endangering Tennison International by having offered an exorbitant buyout figure per share, and showing the other places in Arizona where mining leases for molybdenum could have been obtained without a corporate takeover bid or by risking Tennison's profits on a company with a CEO as financially successful as Cy Harden. He didn't mention the transportation costs for such alternative ventures, Meredith noted. Then he called for a no-confidence vote against Kip Tennison.

  Meredith was allowed a rebuttal. She stood up.

  "First, let me emphasize that everything Don Tennison has told you is gospel," she said, shocking Don and the directors whom she hadn't approached about her position—there were only two. "I did risk the company by underestimating Cy Harden's financial situation and by offering an exorbitant buyout figure. However," she added slyly, "I now have controlling interest in Harden Properties and I can tell you flatly that we will refuse a buyout. We will, however, negotiate on the mineral leases."

  Don looked stunned. "But I have the proxies," he said slowly. "I was promised enough votes to oust Harden and buy out the company, at a considerably lower price than we originally offered."

  "Sorry to say your friend Bill sold you out," she said, her tone steady and firm. "When it came down to it, he wasn't willing to go against me without a majority of the stockholders behind him." She held up a fistful of proxies. "I regained the proxies you thought you had," she told Don, amused at his wide-eyed shock. "Including those Lawrence Harden seemed willing to give you. And despite the fact that you had Cy helping you, I undermined your hold on the company. I'm certain," she added cuttingly, "that Cy didn't realize you planned to turn his own strategy back on him. But then, he doesn't know you as well as I do."

  Don leaned back in his chair. "I'll be damned," he managed huskily.

  "Now," she continued, laying down the proxies. "On to the no-confidence vote. This was my husband's company. He started it, he ran it, he built it into what it was. I never asked him for control of the domestic branch of operations. Henry gave it to me, trained me to run it, sent me to school to teach me what I had to know to keep it going. We've shown a ten percent profit every year I've had control of it, and I've managed not only to diversify our holdings, but to increase them. Our public image is improving daily, our clientele is growing. We are beating out the competition on almost every front, from the computer hardware and software production divisions to the mining operations to the steel mills. My brother-in-law, Don, has told you that I allowed a vendetta to stand in
the way of what was best for Henry's corporation. That is true," she said quietly. "I'm human. I had grievances that I should have taken through the civil courts. But emotions can blind you. Mine blinded me. I never meant to risk Henry's corporation, but I suppose I came very close to it. For that, I'm sorry."

  She looked down the faces of the directors, lingering until she'd focused on every one. "You have to decide whether or not you want me to continue as vice president of domestic production. If you think I deserve a second chance, fine. If you don't, fine. But I want you to know that double-dealing and under-the-table politics cut no ice with me," she added with a cold glare at her brother-in-law, who looked ready to climb under the table. "If I'd gone after you, Don, you'd have seen me coming. As it was, I turned the tables on you by dealing in your own coin. I'm sorry about that, too. Henry never stabbed anybody in the back, even for corporate gain."

  Don flushed. He averted his eyes to the table.

  "Now, go ahead and vote," Meredith invited, sitting down. "You have a choice between two low-down, dirty-dealing worms. All you get to decide is the sex of the one you want to head your domestic division."

  There was muffled laughter. The vote was taken and passed down to the corporate attorney. He counted them and shook his head.

  He stood up. "Two votes against. The rest for. Looks like the worm is going to be a lady."

  Meredith laughed delightedly. "Thank you, gentlemen. You'll never know how much that meant to me."

  One of the directors was called to the telephone. His absence dragged on and Meredith was glad that they still had a quorum when she reached for the envelope in her purse. Time was too precious to waste.

  Don sighed heavily and leaned forward. "I'm sorry," he told Meredith, meeting her eyes and then avoiding them. "You're right. It was dirty pool, all the way. Henry would be ashamed of me."

  "Of both of us, actually," she agreed. "Before we adjourn, I have one more small bit of business to conduct."

  Eyebrows lifted when she pushed a sealed envelope to the center of the highly polished boardroom table, its whiteness stark against the dark wood, like a skeleton.

  "What's that?" Don asked.

  "My resignation from the corporation," she said, grinning at their astonishment. "I am stepping down as vice president in charge of domestic operations."

  "But we just gave you a vote of confidence," a director exclaimed.

  "I know. And I appreciate it," she added. "But my priorities have shifted recently. I'm planning to move to Billings to accept a merger of another sort. I expect to be happy, and very busy, in the coming years. I will retain my seat on the board at Tennison, Henry's will and my own holdings in the company assured me that. But the next time someone comes out to Harden Properties with a takeover bid, you should know that I'll be on the opposing team."

  Don chuckled. "God help us."

  "He'll need to," she assured him. She held out her hand, and Don shook it. "I'm sorry," she repeated. "But I had to leave on my terms. You'll do well. Just delegate a little more. Business has become your life lately. You need to take time out to look at the world around you."

  He shrugged. "Business is really all I need. Thank you," he said solemnly.

  "My pleasure."

  "There is one small fringe benefit," he added after they'd adjourned.

  "What's that?" she asked.

  He smiled slowly. "Mr. Smith and his lizard will get to live with you in Billings. I can get a new dog."

  The meeting ended shortly afterward. Meredith smiled all the way to her car, passing the director who was still on the telephone and nodding politely. She didn't notice his sudden flush or his nervousness.

  "She just walked past," he was telling the party on the other end of the line. "It took me long enough to get through to you."

  "I'm on my way to a meeting, and I won't be accessible for the rest of the night. Just as well you caught me," Cy Harden said. "I'm pressed for time. What is it?"

  "She's got you by the seat of your pants."

  "What?"

  "Kip Tennison," the director said shortly. "She produced enough proxies to gain control of your company and used them to force the board to give her a vote of confidence. She's obviously decided that the best way to get the mineral leases is to own them."

  Cy didn't stop cursing for a full minute. He was shocked, hurt, enraged, by her defection. She'd taken over his company while she was under his roof. Had it all been toward that end? Had she slept with him to keep him off balance? Damn her! She'd done nothing but plot against him ever since she'd come to Billings, and now she'd stabbed him in the back!

  "Can't you stop her?" the director asked.

  "I don't have hurricane training," Cy muttered. "But she'll need armor when she gets back here."

  "She's headed for the airport now."

  "Thanks. She'll have a reception she'll never forget when she walks back into my house. I owe you one," he said, and hung up.

  By late that night, a tired, blessedly oblivious Meredith was taking one of her last flights in the Tennison International jet back to Billings, having phoned ahead to have Mr. Smith meet her at the airport. She'd never felt quite so happy in all her life. Now all she had to do was face Cy and confess what she'd done. By winning control of the company for herself, she might have cost herself that personal merger she'd wanted. But she hoped and prayed that she was mistaken—that Cy was big enough to take defeat in his stride and not let his pride separate them.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  » ^ «

  Mr. Smith seemed solemn as he drove up beside the Tennison jet. Meredith noticed that he didn't have Blake with him.

  "Is anything wrong at the house?" she asked just before she stepped into the car.

  He took in her teal green cotton pantsuit with its gold shell and multipatterned belt. "Just the usual. You look tired."

  "I am," she said, her smile wan. "Dog-tired. It's been a long five weeks. How is Blake? And Cy?"

  "Blake is reading a bedtime story to all the adults in the house," he told her.

  "AndCy?"

  "I can think of several adjectives," he said ominously. "Care to hear a few on the way to the house?"

  She grimaced. "That bad, huh?"

  "The better he gets, the worse he gets," Mr. Smith replied. He glanced her way. "I think having you back home may improve him a little."

  She leaned her head back against the seat wearily. "I'd reserve judgment until he finds out what I've done," she replied. "I swore Don and the board to secrecy, so that I'd have time to tell Cy myself before he had to hear it through the grapevine."

  "By that, I gather you foiled Don's plans."

  "Indeed I did," she agreed, without adding that she'd handed in her resignation at the same time. That bit of news would have to wait until she saw how Cy reacted. "But in order to foil them, I had to gain control of Harden Properties." He pursed his lips and whistled softly. "Someone's not going to like that."

  "Tell me about it." She looked out the darkened window at the passing silhouette of the landscape. "That hole I'm digging for myself gets deeper and deeper. I think I should have stayed in Chicago to begin with, and not come out here trying to play God."

  "Well, we live and learn." He pulled out into the sparse night traffic. "Harden bought Blake a dog." He gave her a brief look. "A big dog."

  "Great. Maybe when we get back to Chicago, we can sit it on the patio and have a room built around it," she suggested cynically. Because it might come to that. Cy might be angry enough to send them packing back to Chicago, big dog and all. "You don't understand," he said. "Iguanas hate dogs."

  "Oh." She had to bite back a smile at his tone. "In that case, maybe we can build Tiny a room of her own. How about that? With a fountain and lots of ficus trees for her to climb." He looked as if he'd just found heaven. "Honest?"

  "Honest and truly. Don't worry. We'll cope."

  "Where?" he asked bluntly. "Here or in Chicago?" She had to grit her teeth, becau
se she had no idea. That was going to depend on Cy, when he found out what was going on. She was really concerned about it, especially in light of her probable condition.

  Her mind gave out halfway home. She closed her eyes and just listened to the radio until they got to the Harden house. The place was ablaze with light. Meredith noticed the front curtains pull open as the car stopped in front of the porch. She dreaded what she was going to have to do, but she felt she had no choice. The fact that she was pregnantalmost certainly pregnantwas going to complicate everything. If Cy threw her out again, having lost his company to her, it would be like history repeating itself. And what about Blake? Would there be some horrible custody battle ?

  "Mommy!"

  So much for wondering if her son was still mad at her, she thought, standing in. the front hall. Meredith laughed as she held out her arms and hugged Blake warmly. She didn't try to pick him up, as she usually did. If she was pregnant, it wouldn't do to strain herself. "Oh, Blake, it's so good to be home," she said, tears stinging her eyes as she held him close. He smelled of soap, and he was so little that he wrung her heart. She loved him with every thread of her being. "I missed you so much, little man! You'll never know how much."

  "I missed you, too," Blake told her. "Mr. Smith doesn't like my dog," he said accusingly. "My daddy bought him for me, and he's black and white, and his name's Harry."

  "Mr. Smith is going to get a whole room for Tiny, and then he'll like Harry," she promised.

  "Is my daddy going to build the room?"

  She hesitated. Her eyes went to the open kitchen door, where Myrna stood, smiling broadly. "We'll talk about it later, darling."

  She walked inside, leaving Mr. Smith to deal with luggage and child. Pausing at the kitchen entrance, she asked Myrna, "How are you?"