Corporate Affair (The Small Town Girl series)

by Linda Cunningham

  “Are you okay?”

  “Yes, Mom. I need to talk to both of you.”

  “Go ahead, Aiden,” said his mother, “we can both hear you.”

  Aiden began to talk, generally at first, and then in more detail. Soon he was telling them everything, about the deal, about Jordan and the way he felt about her, and about his altercation with Fenton. “I’m going to Gene Palmer’s house this afternoon with her to sign the papers,” he concluded. “I’ve never felt like this about anybody before.”

  “Good job, son,” said Gordon. “I like the way you handled Fenton! Left no room for misinterpretation.”

  “Dad, what am I going to do about Jordan? What’s going on with me? What about the baby?”

  Aiden heard his father make some sort of huffing and puffing noise, but it was his mother who spoke. “Aiden, you are an honest and good person. Just follow your heart. Whatever will happen between you and this young woman will happen. Does she care for you also?”

  “I think so, but why doesn’t she tell me about Palmer? Fenton said he was the father of her child.”

  “Think about this logically, Aiden. Fenton told you. Now I’ve never met the man, but according to you and your father, he’s bad. Just plain bad. He’s dishonest, an opportunist, and he sought to do that girl harm. Do you think he is a trustworthy source?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I’m saying he might be lying.”

  “Why would he do that? How could he even think that up?”

  “Oh, Aiden. He did it to pull the rug out from under you. He did it to manipulate you and throw you off course. And what if he’s not lying? Think about what that might mean to you. Does that fact change the way you feel about her? Certainly the baby is not at fault. Don’t forget, the truth will come out. You just tend to your business on the business side and follow your heart for your personal happiness. Things will work themselves out. And Aiden, this girl seems to mean a lot to you.”

  “She does.”

  “There can’t be love where there isn’t trust. They go hand in hand. As long as you feel this strongly about her, you’ll just have to ask her outright.”

  Aiden sighed.

  Gordon finally spoke. “Listen to your mother, son.”

  Aiden had to smile to himself. “Yes, Dad. Thanks, Mom. Thanks, Dad. Look, I’ve got to go. I’ll call you right after the meeting.”

  Aiden paced the room, thinking about what his mother had said. Fenton could be lying, but what he said sounded perfectly logical. Was Jordan the person he thought, he hoped, she was? And what if she wasn’t? What if what Fenton said was true and she had used the baby as a bargaining chip to trap Palmer into providing for her financial security? Aiden knew that everything his mother said was true. There couldn’t be love where there wasn’t trust.

  As was his habit, he ran his hand through his hair. He would have to play this out, a step at a time, trusting his instincts all the way. He just wished he had as much faith in his instincts as his mother did.

  Jordan drove straight to the Inn on the Green, not bothering to call ahead of time. She ran up the wide front steps. The lobby was deserted; the tourists weren’t back from their afternoon soirees yet, and it was too early for the regular dinner crowd. Jordan crossed the large room quickly, passing an unattended front desk, and ran up the stairs. She hurried down the hall to Aiden’s room and knocked on the door, longing to feel the comfort of his arms around her, to feel the pressure of his lips on hers.

  Aiden opened the door and immediately took her hand, leading her into the room and then closing and bolting the door behind her. He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her upturned face. He kissed her eyelids, her forehead, her cheeks, but he lingered on her lips. She savored that sweet, almost imperceptible sugary taste, reveling in the softness of his kiss, remembering the night before when his lips had traveled down her body, kissing, caressing, exciting her until she was crazy with desire for him.

  “I missed you,” he whispered.

  Jordan opened her eyes and smiled. “How could you miss me? I’ve only been gone a few hours.”

  “Too long,” he said. He backed up, sweeping her along with him, and pulled her down onto the bed. They seemed to have a narcotic effect on each other, and there was nothing they could do about it. Fenton could wait. Palmer could wait. All the questions in the world could wait. Aiden’s kisses told her that all he wanted now was to be with her.

  Despite her own desire, Jordan knew they had to focus on business, not pleasure, and she gave a little laugh. “Let me go,” she said. “I’ll get all messed up!”

  “I’m already messed up,” he said. “Look what you do to me.” He took her hand and guided it down his taught abdomen. She felt the buckle on his belt and then the bulge underneath. “I can’t help myself,” he said. She caressed him through his slacks, feeling the thrill as the embers of her passion leaped into flame at his touch. He rolled her gently over on her back and stood up. She started to stand, but Aiden held his finger to his lips and smiled, whispering, “Stay where you are.”

  She lay there and watched as he slipped out of his clothes. The sight of him was intoxicating. She reached out, but he shook his head.

  “Don’t move,” he said. He bent over her and kissed her tenderly on the mouth, parting her lips with his tongue.

  Then he put a hand on each of her hips and slid her down to the edge of the bed. Slowly he lifted her dress up around her waist, revealing her. He leaned down, kissing her belly, letting his tongue roll over her navel. She moaned and arched her hips as he kissed her along the top of her lacy panties. She felt his fingers pressing through the lace against that most sensual part of her. He straightened up again and slowly slid her panties down to her knees. She felt exposed, vulnerable, but her heart beat with longing and expectation. She strained against the offending panties, seeking to give him access to that hot, wet place that begged for him, but suddenly, he took both her legs in one strong arm and lifted them up, resting them on his shoulder. He reached underneath with his free hand, squeezing her round buttocks, while she twisted and moaned, wild for relief. He found the spot and slipped his fingers into her. She cried out with desire as he stroked the secret folds between her legs. She struggled again to open her legs, but he held her tight, teasing, tantalizing until she thought she might burst with pent up emotion. She gripped the bedclothes, twisting them in her fingers.

  “Please! Please!” she gasped.

  He gave a quiet little laugh as he held her legs tight against his chest. He took a step forward and slipped into her so fast, so hard and sure, from underneath, that she lost her breath. He began his thrusts, and she thought she would die of the ecstasy. The fire spread throughout her whole body, burning in her brain until she had to clench her teeth to keep from crying out. She writhed and twisted, feeling his hardness fill the void in her. He thrust harder and faster, all the while bracing her against the raw strength of his chest and shoulders. He stroked her legs with his other hand, and reaching down, found her small pearl, hard with lust and slippery with desire. He fondled it, gently squeezing, pinching, pressing, until she spun out of control, contorting her body against him as the waves of her climax crashed over her.

  She was still reeling from the ripples of her orgasm when she felt Aiden reach his own pinnacle, sending him tumbling over the edge of desire, spinning them both into the ecstasy they shared. He gripped her long legs, slumping against them in the weakness that followed. His knees buckled, and he sank slowly onto the bed beside her. Neither spoke as they recovered their senses. Then Jordan began to laugh softly, or maybe she was crying. She could hardly tell.

  “Oh,” she whispered, “I don’t believe what you do to me!”

  Aiden kissed her neck. “Sorry for the quickie,” he said. “I couldn’t help myself.”

  Jordan laughed. “There’s something thrilling about a well-timed quickie,” she said, and Aiden laughed too.

  “Ah, but now we have work to do.”
He turned her face to his and kissed her deeply. She gasped as he broke the contact and stood up, pulling her with him. They held each other a moment longer, extending the warmth that coursed through their veins.

  Chapter Ten

  TWENTY MINUTES LATER, they were driving up the curved lane to Gene Palmer’s home.

  “Nice house,” commented Aiden. He took in the grand scene in front of him. “I like the architecture. I would say this was built right around, or more likely immediately after, the Civil War. Probably that’s when manufacturing really took off here.”

  “You’re right,” Jordan answered. “It was built in 1866. Beautiful, isn’t it? What’s your house like?”

  “Ha! I have a condo on the wharf right in the middle of Portland. I can see our offices from my balcony! I don’t spend much on commuting. It’s a good location and a nice place, but I guess it’s my parents’ house I still think of as home. The place where I grew up.”

  “Is that in Portland, too?”

  “Well, Cape Elizabeth, to be specific. It’s part of the greater Portland area, but it’s right out into the bay. The house is on the coast. On a cliff, actually. The waves crashing on the rocks lulled me to sleep when I was young. It’s about two hundred fifty years old and has a widow’s walk. It was a terrible mess when my parents bought it, but it’s beautiful now.”

  “It sounds romantic. I love the ocean but don’t get there much. I probably haven’t been there since I was a teenager.”

  “I can take care of that!” Aiden gave her a devilish wink.

  Jordan answered with a smile. She pulled up to the front of the garage and turned off the car. “Are you ready?”

  “I’m okay,” Aiden assured her. “I think any reasonable man would like what we’ve drawn up.”

  “Let’s see,” said Jordan.

  Aiden leaned in to give her a quick kiss, but she slipped casually out of the car just short of his lips reaching hers. He was taken aback, but quickly buried his anxiety and followed her to the atrium door.

  A petite woman in her late sixties met them at the door. “Jordan, come in. Gene’s in the den waiting for you.” She stood on tiptoe and kissed the tall girl on the cheek, then she looked by her and smiled at Aiden. “And this must be Aiden Stewart of Trade Winds. Welcome, Mr. Stewart. I’m Marie Palmer. My husband is eager to meet you.” She extended her hand, and Aiden took it gently in his.

  “Very nice to meet you, Mrs. Palmer. Thank you for inviting us into your home for a business meeting.”

  Marie Palmer led them through the large, bright kitchen. “Gene likes to stay home as much as possible these days. He’s comfortable here.”

  They walked through the front foyer that faced the large front door, down a short hallway, and into a small, wood-paneled room lined with bookcases and hung with an eclectic collection of oils, watercolors, and prints. Two windows looked out over the wide front lawn, and a single glass door opened onto a quaint stone terrace. The heavy urns that decorated the terrace were as yet unplanted, but the hedge of lilacs that ringed the low stone wall was in bloom. Their fragrance filtered into the room.

  Gene Palmer was sitting in a large club chair, gazing out the two front windows. His wife ushered them through the door. “Jordan and Mr. Stewart are here, dear.”

  The old man picked up the cane that lay on the floor next to his chair and stood, slowly but steadily. “Jordan,” he said, smiling, “come in, come in. And this is Aiden Stewart.” He reached his hand out. “Gene Palmer. Very pleased, and interested, to meet you.” Aiden took the hand and was surprised at the strength still evident in the ravaged body. A truly strong man, Aiden thought.

  “Please, sit down. I’ll sit here because this chair is comfortable for me. You two sit right there on the sofa.”

  Aiden and Jordan sat down, and Jordan pulled out the finalized copy of the proposal. “What did you think, Mr. Palmer?” she asked.

  Gene Palmer took his copy from a small table beside the chair. “Thanks for sending Ashley up with a copy. I’ve read through it. I like it. I like it. I think you’ve both done a good job trying to do the best for your respective companies. You restore my faith in the upcoming generation.” He turned and spoke directly to Aiden. “I know your father, you know, Mr. Stewart. He’s a fine man and one tough business man. He’s worked hard. I’m glad to see his son is worthy of his father’s work.”

  Aiden smiled, somewhat self-consciously. “Thank you for that compliment, Mr. Palmer. My father speaks highly of you also.”

  Gene Palmer smiled at his protégé. “Jordan, you’ve done an exemplary job. I’m proud of you. This merger preserves the autonomy of Chat while benefiting Trade Winds and giving them access to new territories. You’ve forged a progressive partnership. I don’t think I could have trusted this to anyone else.”

  Jordan blushed. “Thank you, Mr. Palmer. We tried hard.”

  “Now to the topic of Fenton Industries,” continued Palmer, folding his hands in his lap. “Christopher Fenton showed up here today.”

  Jordan straightened her back as though she’d received an electric shock. “Here?” she exclaimed. “At your home!”

  “Yes, indeed. He claimed he had information that would make me change my mind about accepting Trade Winds’ proposal.”

  “Did you speak to him?” Jordan asked. Aiden could see her hands shaking and wished he could put his own over them.

  “I did. I asked Marie to let him in, although she fought me on that. I had to speak to him. The man needed to be put in his place. I told him I didn’t want to hear what he had to say. I told him I had no time for gossip or hearsay. I reminded him that before he formed Fenton Industries, he was nearly brought up on charges of blackmail and corporate spying, and I had no interest in being involved with anybody with that kind of background.”

  “Is that true?” Aiden leaned forward in disbelief. “Blackmail and corporate espionage?”

  “It is true,” answered Palmer. “I remember it distinctly. He was an up and coming young executive, and he actually tried to set two power service companies against each other. He worked for one of them. Too bad you can’t shoot people for corporate treason. I’m sure there would have been volunteers for the firing squad!”

  “What else did he say to you?” Jordan shifted uncomfortably.

  “Nothing of any importance. In fact, I didn’t let him say much. He left here spouting threats. I actually rather enjoyed cutting him off at the knees. Kind of limbered me up!” He gave a big smile.

  The man has a lot of courage, thought Aiden with admiration. No wonder Jordan thinks so highly of him. No wonder—but he wouldn’t let his thoughts go any further.

  “However—” and this time Palmer’s voice took a very serious tone “—I caution you not to underestimate this man. He has a criminal mind. He’s unstable. Don’t turn your back on him, and be sure to keep all your ducks in a row all the time. If he thinks he’s losing ground, there’s no telling what he’ll do.”

  “I can do that,” Jordan said. Aiden could sense that, although Jordan seemed to have become accustomed to seeing Gene Palmer during his illness, it always upset her. It was obvious she wanted so much for him to be well and would dread losing him, his mentorship, and his faith in her.

  “Well, let’s get this done.” Gene Palmer perked up, rubbing his hands together. “Jordan, would you please find Marie and ask her to come in here? I want her to be here. She was as much a part of developing ChatDotCom as anybody. I couldn’t have done it without her.”

  “Of course,” said Jordan. “I’ll get her right away.” She stood and left the room.

  Aiden watched the old man carefully, sitting with his head bowed. Was he tired? Was he thinking? Then Palmer raised his head and looked directly into Aiden’s eyes.

  “I’m old now,” he said quietly. “I’m old and sick, but I wasn’t always this way. I was a young man once. Young and strong, and I remember how that felt. I remember it as clear as day.” He paused and Aiden waited, caug
ht in the strength of the old man’s glare. “If you think I don’t know what’s going on here, you are greatly mistaken.”

  Aiden started to speak, but Palmer held up his hand. He gave a little smile. “Don’t worry. I don’t disapprove. I like you, Stewart. I always liked your father. You’re a pleasant surprise. I thought you might be a spoiled rich kid. Must be your mother’s influence.” He laughed at his own joke. “I do want to make sure you understand one thing, though. I was always a little disappointed that none of my kids wanted the business, even though I’m fortunate they’re all doing well and they’re good people.” He paused for a reminiscent smile, but then trained his eyes back on Aiden’s. “Then Jordan came along. Whatever happens, you should know that Jordan Fitzgerald means a lot to me. I’ve asked a lot from her, and she’s given all that I asked and more. She’ll do that for people she loves. Don’t ever let me hear that you misused or took advantage of her in any way. And don’t listen to gossip. I don’t. Neither should you.” He looked up then, past Aiden, to the doorway. Aiden turned and followed his gaze. Jordan and Marie Palmer were coming into the room.

  Mrs. Palmer crossed the room to her husband’s side. He reached out and wrapped his arm around her waist as she sat on the arm of the chair. “I was just telling Aiden that, believe it or not, I was a young man once. And here’s the woman who keeps it fresh in my mind every day.”

  Palmer, Jordan, and Aiden signed the merger contract, and Aiden shook the Palmers’ hands. Mrs. Palmer disappeared and returned a minute later with a bottle of champagne and four flutes. Aiden did the honors, popping the cork and pouring. Jordan passed the flutes. “Here’s to the next generation,” said Gene Palmer, raising his glass. Aiden thought he saw the old man’s eyes glistening with unshed tears, but his voice didn’t falter as he spoke. “You’ve inherited a difficult world to manage, but we wish you the best. You can do it.”

  Half an hour later, Jordan and Aiden sat quietly in her car. She reached for the key. “Where do you want to go?” she asked him. “It’s five thirty.”