by Jackie Braun
“M-m-mine?” she stammered, not wanting to be dragged into the conversation. She’d done her best to stay out of it. Well, except for paraphrasing Confucius or whoever.
“I need to know who I’m dealing with, and you interact with him much more than Collin does. It’s been weeks now,” her father continued. “Surely you have a feel for the man.”
Oh, she had a feel for the man, all right. The mad groping session in the front seat of his SUV flashed in her mind. She took a sip of her wine and willed herself not to blush. She was debating how to word her response when a reprieve arrived in the form of a chocolate trifle.
“Let’s put away talk of business for another time and enjoy this beautiful dessert,” Eliza said. She waved one elegant, bejeweled hand in dismissal, but Kate caught her stepmother’s discreet wink when she glanced in her direction.
“Yes. It’s giving me indigestion.” Her grandmother seconded the motion. “And at my age, I can’t afford it.”
“Very well.”
Barely ten minutes later, however, her father was setting aside his fork and rising from his seat at the head of the table.
“No seconds, Jonathon?” Eliza asked. “I had the cook prepare this especially for you.”
Her effort to prolong the inevitable was valiant, Kate would give her stepmother that, but ultimately unsuccessful.
He shook his head. “Collin, join me in my office for a bit. Katherine, you, too.”
Just like that, Kate’s grand plans for escape were dashed.
Her father’s study was a large room at the back of the house. Its walls were paneled in a rich, dark wood and the desk was a replica of the one Brody had banished from his Chicago office shortly after taking over. Kate had always found the room oppressive and unwelcoming, with the exception of the far wall, where French doors opened out to the garden. Unfortunately, this late in the season, her favorite roses were already out of bloom and only a handful of intrepid daylilies were still flowering.
She opted to remain standing near the French doors when her father sat behind his desk and Collin took a seat on the leather sofa.
“I can’t figure out what he’s up to,” Collin admitted. “He hasn’t done what we expected him to do. I thought by now word would have leaked out about his plans for the future, but…I’m hearing nothing.”
“Same here. And I’ve made my own inquiries,” her father said. “Meanwhile, stock prices are inching back up thanks to the sale of the Ohio hub.”
Kate knew it wasn’t only the sale that was responsible. Shareholders were happy with the budget cuts and other changes Brody had made to stanch the flow of red ink. Sure, some of the ideas were hers, but he had taken them and was running with them. He was tightening up a corporate culture that had grown complacent and lax over time. For that matter, he was creating a new corporate culture, one more relevant to a twenty-first-century workplace, where expense accounts and company cars weren’t as desirable as flexible hours and the option to telecommute.
“You were supposed to drag your feet and make sure that deal with a new packaging supplier wasn’t finalized until Flynn was out of the picture,” he reminded Collin.
Kate was still processing that startling bit of news when Collin replied, “I held off as long as I could. When I met with the CEO of Sterling Containers two weeks ago, I planted the rumors you suggested.”
She stepped away from the doors, far enough into the room that what little sunlight filtered through them no longer touched her. She was in the shadows with the room’s other two occupants when she asked, “What rumors?”
Collin’s response, however, was for her father. “Wellington didn’t take the bait. If anything, he saw the stories of Brody’s unpredictable nature as a plus. Said Flynn reminded him of himself when he started out thirty years ago. A man like that is going places,” he mimicked.
“What are you two talking about?” she demanded a second time, even though she had a pretty good idea. “My God, you’re trying to sabotage him.”
“I’m trying to get my company back. That shouldn’t come as a surprise. And you can help. I need to know his plans. What percentage of the semi fleet is he planning to get rid of? Is the land we acquired near the railroad in Indiana still in his crosshairs?”
Her father stood and paced impatiently to the liquor cabinet. As he poured himself a drink, he continued, “What is he up to? I need specifics. I know some people who want to know. And they want that information before it becomes public knowledge.”
She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, regretting her choice in footwear. Flats would be better for running, and she was seriously considering fleeing.
“Like all the people who’ve been kept on at Douglass after the switch in leadership, I signed a confidentiality agreement.” She’d also personally sworn her allegiance to Brody.
Her father tossed back half his scotch and snorted. “Katherine, don’t saddle up your high horse now. I need you to be my eyes and ears at the company.”
Her gaze slid to Collin, her suspicions confirmed. “I thought that was his role.”
Collin shrugged. “It was—is—but it seems you know Flynn better. A lot better.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“The two of you spend an awful lot of time together.”
“Have you been spying on me?” Her voice rose right along with her indignation. The heat flaming in her cheeks, however, wasn’t all the result of outrage. What was Collin privy to? And what had he told her father?
“Actually, I hired someone to spy on Brody. You turn up a lot. As such, I think you can offer your father better insights into his vulnerabilities than I can.”
“Vulnerabilities? What do you mean by that?” Even as she asked the question, she knew. Hadn’t she sensed this all along? After all, hadn’t her father just said that he had people who wanted inside information, anything that would affect the price of Douglass stock? And Collin had just admitted to trying to stall a deal with a packaging supplier by planting rumors.
Collin said now, “I think if we want Wellington and other people to turn on him, we need a more compelling rumor. What if we suggest he’s a front for something shady? Or has ties to organized crime?”
“What?” The word erupted from Kate, and her gaze cut to her father. “Please tell me you’re not seriously considering his suggestion.”
“No. That’s a line I’m not comfortable crossing. Besides, it could take down the entire company. The Justice Department has little tolerance for that sort of thing.”
Her relief was short-lived. Collin wasn’t deterred.
“Then we dig into Flynn’s past again, and this time we go beyond relevant business ties and known associates. We know where he went to college, where he got his start in business. But where the hell did he come from? He claims to be a Chicago native, but no one in our social circles has ever heard of him or his family. Where did he get his money?”
Her father nodded thoughtfully.
“Dad, you can’t seriously be considering—”
Her father cut her off. “I want to stay one step ahead of him. The current board of directors is not being very helpful. Even those I thought I could count on for support are wavering or wanting to wait until after the next quarter’s earnings are reported before making any moves. Apparently, Flynn has made quite an impression on them during his short time at the helm.”
Kate kept her expression neutral, although she knew Brody had made quite an impression on her both professionally and personally. With a sense of foreboding, she asked, “What move would they make?”
This time he did offer a reply, although afterward she sorely wished he hadn’t. She didn’t want to be kept in this particular loop.
“One he won’t be expecting.” Her father smiled and rested his hand on the neck of the brandy bottle. “I’m going to use his own strategy against him.”
Brody’s strategy? That could only mean one thing. Her father was plotting his own hos
tile takeover.
“But I told you my plan. I want to buy back the company, and I think Brody will be amenable to that eventually.” She hoped. The truth was the future was a topic they had steered clear of since their steamy encounter in the front seat of his Denali.
“Eventually. Maybe.” He shook his head. “We can’t deal in maybes. If we want Douglass back, we need an aggressive strategy.”
In other words, when all the planets aligned, her father would publicly offer to buy stockholders’ shares at a price higher than the current market value, just as Brody had done. Brody had quietly bought up a sizable chunk of stock and made allies of more than half the board before making his tender offer. But even after rallying sympathetic members of the board—and his lapdog, Collin—would her father have the necessary capital for that? Or the clout, given he’d been ousted? Even as her mind puzzled over the questions, the answers occurred to her, and Kate’s heart thudded painfully in her chest.
“You need me for this. Or at least my 15 percent of the stock.”
“Actually, my dear, you own more than that.”
She frowned. “What are you talking about?”
His gaze cut to Collin. “Leave us for a minute, will you? Katherine and I need a moment to talk in private.”
“Certainly.”
Once Collin was gone, her father took a deep breath that did little to settle Kate’s nerves.
“I’m talking about the stock your mother had. As part of our divorce settlement, I gave her a 7 percent share.”
Kate frowned in confusion. She was her mother’s sole benefactor, yet, “This is the first I’ve heard of it.”
“That was the way she wanted it,” her father explained. “It’s been held in a trust until now. Well, until your thirtieth birthday.”
It was almost too much to take in. Kate could think of only one reason her mom would have created such a trust. “That means she knew she wouldn’t be here when I turned thirty. That she planned…”
She couldn’t go on. The truth was too painful to speak aloud. She had always assumed her mother’s suicide had been a spontaneous event. That one day she had simply snapped, pushed to the brink of despair by her inner demons and then thrust over the edge. The trust and its stipulations, however, suggested otherwise. Hell, they didn’t merely suggest otherwise; they were proof of it.
Kate sank down on the couch, her legs too weak to hold her as her mind raced. Her father poured himself another drink.
“I know you think I coddle you.” His shoulders lifted. “I probably do. I can’t help it. You’re my only child, Katherine. My little girl.” He closed his eyes briefly. “And you are so much like her.”
Kate straightened in her seat. “No. I’m not. If you really think that, then you don’t know me at all. I am not fragile, emotionally or otherwise. I look like Mom, yes. I have her coloring, her cheekbones, and her eyes. But that’s where our similarities end. Why can’t you see that?”
“Because I can’t lose you, too!” he shouted. Then her usually collected and confident father dropped his head into his hands. His sob pulled Kate to her feet.
“Dad?”
When he lifted his head, he looked broken and wholly human. “I know you think my affair with Eliza is what broke up the marriage.”
“No. I knew it was over long before that.” When his brows shot up, she added, “I may have just been a kid, but I knew, Dad. I was here when you and Mom fought. The house is big, but the rooms aren’t soundproof. And I know she had problems with depression.”
“I tried to get her help. I took her to some of the best specialists in the city. She refused to cooperate. She said she didn’t want to talk about her personal life in front of strangers and that the pills they prescribed made her too tired and foggy.”
Kate recalled her mother’s rigid disposition. No one could make Lucille Douglass do what she didn’t want to do. Not the man who’d married her. Not the daughter who had loved her.
Her father was saying, “Finally, I’d had enough. When I told her I wanted a divorce, she threatened to kill herself.” His expression was one Kate had never seen before: guilt mixed with grief. “I never thought she would actually do it. You have to believe that.”
“God, Dad. Do you honestly think I’ve blamed you all these years?”
“No.” He shook his head slowly, as if even that slight movement required monumental effort. “I blamed myself, especially after you…you found her like that. She’d threatened several times both before and after the divorce, but I didn’t think… I should have known.
“About a week before her death, she came to see me. She was…oddly calm. She told me about the trust she’d had drawn up. She said she wanted you to be thirty when you received her shares, because she wanted to be sure you had finished your degree and had enough experience under your belt.”
“She believed in me,” Kate whispered. The extra shares would have given Kate more stature. They would have ensured her place in the business’s hierarchy as more than a figurehead.
Her father gave no indication he’d heard her. His shoulders slumped. “I passed the visit off as more of her theatrics, even though she was no longer begging me to take her back. Then a week later…”
Kate’s eyes stung, her throat ached. It was all she could do to push out the words when she asked, “Why haven’t you ever told me any of this before?”
“I didn’t want to upset you, Katherine. As it was, you were traumatized.”
She had been, yes. Haunted for months, years by the image of her mother’s lifeless body and all that blood. She’d showered several times a day, scrubbing her skin until it was raw in an effort to wash away the memories. She’d suffered nightmares from which she’d awoken screaming.
Kate swiped at her damp cheeks. It was so much easier to be angry at her mother. She didn’t want to grieve. Still, she insisted hoarsely, “We should have talked about this.” Maybe if they had, they both could have helped each other heal—and grown closer in the process.
They both were quiet for a moment. As Kate tried to absorb all of the information and organize it into neat rows for processing, her father reached into the top drawer of his desk and pulled out some papers. He brought them over to where she sat and joined her on the couch. “I planned to tell you when you came over on your birthday, but you left before I had a chance.”
“That was weeks ago, Dad.”
“I know. I’ve been waiting for the right time.” He held the papers out.
The room was reeling, Kate’s head spinning with questions and one very painful truth.
“You’ve been waiting until you had a better idea of Brody’s plans.”
She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. For the first time in her adult life, her father was treating her as an equal, actually coming to her for help where Douglass Shipping was concerned. Wouldn’t it just figure that by doing so he was pitting her against Brody? Making her choose sides when she had been so careful to remain neutral.
“In order for my plan to succeed, I need you. You told me before that you wanted Douglass Shipping back. Here’s your chance to help me get it.”
Whether purposely or not, he was missing the point.
“I want to buy the company. Me, Dad.” She dropped the papers into her lap and tapped one hand to her chest. “I don’t want to launch a hostile takeover and run the risk of having loyal stockholders think the company is totally unstable and bail on us. Once I own it, I plan to run it. I plan to be the CEO. It’s what I’ve always wanted.”
She held his gaze for several seconds. Meanwhile, he studied her as if truly seeing her for the first time. Finally, he said. “You really aren’t anything like your mother, are you?”
It was both a compliment and a revelation on his part.
“No, I’m not.”
“How did I miss that? How could I have been so blind? I’m sorry.”
She nodded, enjoying the moment. Then her father ruined it.
“You
will run the company when I retire. I promise you that.” He leaned over and pressed a kiss to her forehead. A kiss that left her feeling as though she’d just been branded a traitor. He was still expecting her to play a role in his plans.
Chapter Ten
Rumors. Brody had been the subject of them before in business. But the latest ones bothered him—both for their content and their source. Someone within the company was spreading them. Of that much he was sure, based on information that had been leaked along with the rumors. Only someone on the inside would be privy to his plans to increase the amount of required downtime between runs for semi drivers hauling for Douglass. The policy went beyond federal guidelines and would further improve safety, but union officials were nervous about what the change would mean for their membership.
He had his suspicions, of course. Collin Overton was the most likely candidate. But after his talk with Seth a few weeks earlier, he couldn’t rule out Kate. And he wanted to. Badly.
But for the past week she’d been acting…odd. She’d found reasons to evade him, meetings first thing in the morning or at lunchtime, leaving earlier or later than usual at the end of the day as if to avoid walking out with him. To avoid kissing him? Several times he’d caught her looking across the reception area at him, something akin to guilt in her gaze. He’d told himself he was imagining it. Projecting Seth’s concerns on to her actions. But what if…?
So, when Kate did walk out with him late Friday afternoon, he decided to get to the bottom of things, and he figured the best way to do that was just to tell her what was on his mind. Before he could, however, she said in a rush, “Come to dinner.”
“What? Right now?”
She cleared her throat. “Tomorrow. My place. I…I’ll cook and we can talk.”
“You want me to come to dinner so we can talk?”
Another time he might have seen the heat creeping into her face as a clue to more primal intentions. But he got the distinct feeling her flushed face was the result of nerves rather than lust.