The C.E.O. & the Cookie Queen

by Victoria Chancellor

  “Ms. Carole, we’re ready for you,” the director of the commercial announced.

  “Knock ’em dead,” Greg’s mother advised, smiling as she looked across the top of her stylish half glasses. Over the past several weeks, Carole had grown to depend on Roberta Rafferty’s advice and encouragement. Greg’s mother was a true professional woman. She wasn’t the warm and fuzzy type, but she knew the business world into which Carole had been thrust. She trusted Roberta’s advice as much as she doubted Greg’s motives.

  He’d respected her wishes, not discussing their brief affair, but she would have preferred a more forceful denial that he’d seduced her just to get her cooperation. Okay, he hadn’t really seduced her; she’d gone to him. But that was beside the point. He was the one with the experience, the skill, and he’d known exactly what he was doing.

  Whereas she had fumbled around like a silly buckle bunny with a severe crush on the best bronc rider in the arena.

  “Carole? We’re waiting for you to take your seat.”

  She took a deep breath. “Right.” Forcing a smile at the director, she marched toward the lights, camera and action.

  THE FIRST COMMERCIAL featuring the real Ms. Carole would air during the afternoon talk shows, and Greg felt a growing sense of excitement as company officials, his family and Carole herself gathered in the conference room. She looked tense to him, but he was sure few people picked up on her nervous energy. She sipped coffee as she made the circuit of the room, moving ever closer to the door.

  He moved to intercept her before she slipped outside.

  “Going somewhere?” he asked.

  “The ladies’ room.” She appeared even more tense. In fact, she looked a little green. She’d done a live radio interview earlier for one of the syndicates around the country, and although she’d handled the questions beautifully, she was probably a mass of nerves.

  “I’ll go with you.”

  She started to protest, but hurried away instead. Greg waited in the hallway, nodding to Huntington employees as he waited for Carole. Just as he was about to violate the sanctity of the women’s rest room, she walked out.

  “Better?”

  She nodded. “I just needed a minute to myself…and a wet paper towel. I’m not that sick…unless I start thinking about myself on national television.”

  Greg glanced at his watch. “It’s almost time. Do you feel up to going back in to see your commercial?”

  “I don’t know. I’m so nervous.”

  “I know, but you’ve seen it before. This is just a ceremonial event for us. We’re all very proud of you, Carole. Mother, especially, is thrilled with the campaign.”

  She looked down at her stylish red high-heeled sandals. “There were times when I didn’t think I could do this.”

  “But you did. The worst part is over, in my opinion. Now you can go around the country and do interviews, but you have the skills and the wardrobe.”

  “I’m still not too keen on flying to various cities.”

  “I know, but we haven’t scheduled very many, and besides, the corporate jet makes it a lot more convenient.”

  Carole nodded. “I’ll be able to take Jenny with me during some of her school breaks or weekends.”

  “She’ll like that.” He gazed at his own shoes, seeing dusty cowboy boots in his mind. “How is she?” He missed the ten-year-old, which he could never have imagined. He even missed Puff, Mrs. Jacks and some of the café regulars. He’d only had contact with Thelma Rogers, whom he’d called to give that long-awaited interview. He figured the local publicity would be good for Carole and explain their relationship to those who speculated about his time in Ranger Springs.

  “She’s fine. She misses me,” Carole said as they started walking back to the conference room. “She asks about you every time we talk.”

  “Maybe she should come to Chicago next time.”

  “I’m trying not to disrupt her life.”

  Greg stopped her with a hand on her elbow. She turned, a question in her eyes. Was that also longing he saw? Or perhaps his imagination put an emotion into the equation that no longer existed.

  “Did I disrupt your life too much, Carole?”

  She looked up at him. Yes, he saw longing. His heart raced as she answered. “No, not too much. I needed this. I needed to shake up my world or I would have become a reclusive, overprotective mother who spent her entire life baking for her small community, talking to the same people, shopping in the same stores.”

  “Still, that can be a good life.”

  “But now Jenny’s college will be paid for, the house will be paid off and I have enough for a rainy day.”

  She glanced toward the conference room door. “I guess we should go in.”

  “Yes.” He looked down the hallway at the corporate offices of the company he loved. “I used to visit my grandfather in these offices. Even when I was a child, I wanted to be the boss. I’m telling you this because I want you to understand how important it is to me to save the reputation of Huntington Foods.”

  “I know it’s important to you. That was never my problem with your…pursuit of my cooperation. I just didn’t agree with—”

  “Hey, you guys, it’s almost time,” Stephanie called from the conference room. “You’d better get in here.”

  “Let’s continue this conversation later,” Greg suggested. “Can I pick you up at your hotel for dinner?”

  Carole took a deep breath, molding the knit fabric of her dress over those perfect breasts. He wanted her now more than ever. Time hadn’t dimmed his desire. Distance from the heat of cowboy country hadn’t cooled his passion.

  “What time?” she asked.

  INSTEAD OF TRYING to impress her with big-city wealth, Greg chose a family-owned restaurant not far from his condo. They dined on Italian food—the urban equivalent of Tex-Mex, Greg claimed—and then walked side by side to the car.

  Walking hand in hand would have felt right, Carole realized as they approached Greg’s sporty BMW. She wondered if he sensed the attraction, too, or if she was the only one with lust in her heart.

  Or maybe it wasn’t lust. Maybe it was something more. Maybe she’d fallen in love with Greg Rafferty sometime between him buying Puff and her watching the pride on his face when the commercial played during a break in Oprah today.

  “Would you like to come up to my place and talk?” he asked as they reached the car.

  “I suppose.” Yes! She wanted to be alone with him, to see if what she felt was some sort of residual from today’s excitement or a culmination of all the time they’d spent together in Texas and Chicago.

  The drive was less than a mile, but took a lot longer than a mile in Ranger Springs due to the heavy city traffic. Carole grew more and more tense in the silence of the interior. Why didn’t Greg say something witty?

  He parked in the garage and she followed him to the elevator, her steps beginning to drag. Was she making a mistake? She began to feel the way she had before they’d made love the first time—insecure and indecisive.

  The small elevator finally opened and she stepped inside the fake wood and brushed-metal interior. Greg’s expression was unreadable. He hit the button to the twenty-second floor, the doors closed, and he turned to her.

  Oh, Lord. His eyes burned bright with passion. He framed her face with his hands seconds before his mouth crushed down on hers, before he pushed her back against the faux wood wall.

  He kissed her until her head swam and her knees sagged. His hard chest flattened her breasts as his arousal pressed against her stomach. She moved against him, her passion rising more quickly than the elevator. He tasted of rich spices and smelled so familiar her heart ached.

  They barely made it into the apartment. She wondered if she’d jump the gun the way she did the first time. Fortunately, during her days with Greg back in Ranger Springs, she’d learned not to worry about having too many climaxes.

  He started to carry her toward his bedroom, but then stopped in the
darkened hallway, pressing her against the wall, his hands once again framing her face. “Carole,” he whispered, his breathing ragged, “I know I said I wanted to talk, but I want to make love to you more. I’ve missed you so much.”

  “I’ve missed you, too. I tried not to, but I couldn’t help myself, even when I wasn’t sure of your motives.”

  “I’ve always been honest with you. I didn’t buy Puff to impress you. I didn’t seduce you to make you vulnerable to my arguments. I didn’t fall in love with you to make you become our spokesperson. My feelings have nothing—”

  “Wait,” she said, placing her fingers against his warm, firm lips. “What did you say?”

  “I said I’ve fallen in love with you.” He kissed her again, this time slow and gentle. “I love you, Carole.”

  “Oh, Greg, I love you, too. I really do.” She slid her arms around his neck and held on tight. “And I trust you. I know you were honest with me. I didn’t before, but now I realize you were always truthful. You wouldn’t do anything to hurt me.”

  “Never.”

  “Make love to me, Greg.”

  He wrapped his arms around her to carry her into the bedroom, and this time she wrapped her legs around him and held on tight. When they undressed in the low light coming from the bathroom, Carole felt no trepidation about her body, her stretch marks or her ability to satisfy him. Overwhelmed with love, she gave herself completely, and in return, received his love with an open heart.

  Afterward, they lay together, reality slowly returning. There would be schedules to coordinate, details to discuss, but she believed they could negotiate anything now that they’d revealed their love. Jenny already adored Greg, and he seemed genuinely fond of her also. Yes, everything would be fine now. She’d finally made the right decision regarding a man, regarding her future.

  CAROLE’S OPTIMISM lasted through the night spent in Greg’s arms, a breakfast of croissants and strawberries eaten half-dressed in bed, and the drive back to the hotel for her to get more clothes and toiletries. She’d accepted his plan for her to stay at his condo until she left for Texas tomorrow. Every minute together felt precious. She couldn’t wait for him to return to Ranger Springs so they could talk about the details of their relationship. Their future.

  Giggling because he couldn’t keep his hands off her, she finally managed to unlock her hotel room door and stumble inside. She felt giddy, as though they’d had a magnum of champagne with their breakfast instead of orange juice and coffee.

  She put her index finger to her lips and signaled him to be quiet as she sat behind the desk and hit the message button on the phone with the blinking red light. As she impatiently worked her way through the voice mail system, she watched Greg lounge in the wing-back chair in the corner of the room. He appeared to be every woman’s dream, one hundred percent virile male. Only she knew his other attributes: patience, intelligence, persistence and imagination.

  Her smile faded as she listened to a message from her mother. A frantic message that chilled Carole’s blood.

  “Johnny Ray’s manager called from Los Angeles. Someone who knew you’d once been married heard your radio interview and told him about you now being a celebrity. His manager said that Johnny isn’t going to let you say anything negative about him, like the fact you got your marriage annulled and that he’s never seen his daughter. Carole, he threatened all kinds of legal problems if you mention Johnny Ray. I’ve been trying to reach you, and I’m so scared you’re going to say or do something to make him angry. Please, please call me. I’m keeping all this from Jennifer—for now. Call me. ’Bye.”

  Carole felt the blood roar in her ears as it drained from her face. She dropped the phone onto the desk and stared unseeing at the bed.

  “Carole, what’s wrong?”

  She vaguely felt Greg’s hands on her arms as she lifted her head to stare at him. “It’s my nightmare.”

  “What? Tell me, sweetheart.”

  “Johnny Ray knows I’m going to be your new spokesperson. He’s threatening me with legal action, Greg. He thinks I’m trying to make him look bad, since he doesn’t know his own daughter.”

  “We’ll get our lawyers on this, Carole. Everything will be fine. He’s not going to hurt you.”

  “Me? Is that what you think this is about?” She shook her head, tears blurring her vision. “He can’t really hurt me, but he can destroy Jenny’s dreams. I tried so hard to make sure she didn’t miss having a father in her life, and now he’s going to hurt her forever just because I wanted everyone to know that I’m Ms. Carole…that those are my cookie recipes they’re enjoying.” She turned her face into Greg’s chest and sobbed, “What have I done to my baby?”

  Chapter Sixteen

  “Remember not to say anything, even to your friends. We’ll let the professionals handle this, okay?”

  “Then where are you going? I really need you here,” Carole said, holding him tight in the small waiting room of the regional airport where the corporate jet landed.

  “I’ll be back tomorrow at the latest. Earlier if I can.” He rested his chin on her head. “This is something I have to do, sweetheart. Something I can’t avoid.”

  “Just hurry back. Even though Jenny doesn’t know anything about what Johnny Ray said, she may sense something is wrong. And she could hear us talking.”

  “Just be careful about what you say, and I’ll be back before you know it.”

  She pulled back, her expression so sad it almost broke his heart. “I should have stayed in Ranger Springs. I never should have thought I could pull this off without problems.”

  “That’s not true!” His hands tightened on her upper arms, but he forced himself to be calm. “This is not your fault.”

  “It sure feels like it,” she said, closing her eyes and looking out the windows to the small parking lot. “I’d better go. Cheryl is waiting for me.”

  “I’ll be back before you know it, and then we’ll talk.”

  Carole nodded and stepped out of his embrace. “Have a safe trip.”

  “I love you, Carole.”

  She hugged her arms around herself and nodded, as though she didn’t trust herself to speak. He’d take that explanation with him, rather than the one that said she no longer loved him. That she’d spoken in a moment of passion and now realized her feelings weren’t genuine.

  He turned and hurried through the heat shimmering off the pavement toward the jet, which had been refueled and checked out for the flight west.

  To Los Angeles. To speak man-to-man to Johnny Ray French and his attorneys. Because unlike his advice to Carole, he wasn’t going to be quiet about this. He wasn’t going to let the lawyers handle it. He was the Huntington C.E.O. and the man in love with Ms. Carole; how could he do anything else when his future depended on success?

  CAROLE GATHERED her family and friends around her like a security blanket, insisting on a big meal at her house tonight even though she’d barely gotten into town by two o’clock this afternoon. They’d suggested potluck, so she’d immersed herself in cake batter and cookie dough, and Jenny told stories over little bottles of bright-colored sprinkles and bowls of chocolate chips.

  My daughter is fine, she kept telling herself as she scooped out the last batch onto a cookie sheet. She knows nothing of her father’s legal threats and she didn’t need to know. Greg’s corporate attorneys would get this mess straightened out in the time it took her to clean up this messy kitchen.

  “Last batch in,” she announced with a big smile. “I’ll set the timer and then you can help me load the dishwasher.”

  “Aw, Mom.”

  Carole smiled again, this time genuine. “I’m gone for days and you complain about spending time with me.”

  “How about we blast some space aliens on my new game machine?” Jenny offered. “That’s more fun than dishes.”

  “I want the kitchen to be all clean for our dinner tonight. Aunt Cheryl and Grandma and Uncle Hank and Gwendolyn and lots of people are coming
over.”

  “I know. Okay, I’ll help.” Jenny grabbed the big mixing bowl and carried it to the sink. “Why don’t you tell me what you did in Chicago this time?”

  I bared my heart to the man I love, Carole felt like saying. Later, maybe she could talk to her mother. Oh, she wished her older sister was here. Kerry always gave great advice, but she was thousands of miles away in Belegovia, no doubt attending some fancy dinner instead of a pot luck supper.

  “There was a little party at the Huntington Foods office when my first commercial aired during Oprah. That was kind of neat, but I got really nervous and almost threw up lunch.”

  “Gross,” Jenny said with a smile. “So did they serve Ms. Carole’s cookies?”

  She laughed. “Yes, but they also had a really pretty cake with fresh berries and white chocolate roses, and we drank champagne and everyone was happy.” And then I went out to dinner with Greg, and we made love and then I confirmed that your father is a self-centered jerk.

  “Neat.”

  They finished cleaning the kitchen, then went outside and fed Puff his dinner. The big steer was even more a baby now than when Jenny had shown him. Carole wondered what in the world they would eventually do with the animal, since he could easily live another twenty years.

  By the time Puff died, Jenny would be grown and married. Carole would probably be a grandmother, or might be in a few years. And what about Greg? Would he be in the picture twenty years from now, or would he be just a memory?

  She shook away the depressing thoughts. She needed to stay busy.

  “Let’s go back inside and set the buffet. Our guests will be here before we know it.”

  “More work,” Jenny groused, but she put Puff’s brush in the bucket inside the tack room, grabbed Carole’s hand and together they walked into the house.

  Company was scheduled for six o’clock. At five thirty-five Carole heard gravel crunch on the driveway. She hurried to the front door, expecting to see her mother and sister, but instead, a familiar black Land Rover pulled to a stop. Pete Boedecker stepped out of the driver’s side, waved, then went to the rear door. A stern, dark-suited, large man who looked as if he could snap a telephone pole in two exited, looked around and nodded. Within a second Kerry bounded out of the back seat. Or as much as she could bound while holding a squirming six-month-old prince.