Harlequin Superromance February 2014 - Bundle 1 of 2: His Forever GirlMoonlight in ParisWife by Design

by Liz Talley

  Graham sighed, wishing he could slam his fist on the desk instead. “There’s no way I can talk you into staying? Ullo needs you. I need you.”

  “I’m sorry, Mr. Naquin. I’ve made my mind up.” The large man stepped back, ducking his head. “I’ll stay for the next two weeks, give you time to find someone else.”

  Mild panic knocked at the door to Graham’s soul. Sliding into the CEO’s position at a stable, reputable company was supposed to be easy. But Frank Ullo Float Builders was no longer stable. Mere weeks into the job and everything had started unraveling at an alarming rate. “What about Frank?”

  Dave stopped in flight. “That’s who I feel the worst about, Mr. Naquin. Frank’s been like a father to me.”

  “Then why abandon him when he’s down?”

  The man’s head shot up. “I’m not—”

  “Yeah, you are. This company is in transition and we need stability. We need men like you.” He stopped short of begging, but thought if he had to drop to his knees, he might.

  “I already told Mack I’d come over to Toledano. Rita wants me to work there, too. Gas is high as a cat’s back and I ain’t exactly getting younger.”

  “Just through this season. With a raise. And then we can see how you feel.”

  Dave cast his eyes toward the table with all the plans spread out, labeled by krewe and float number. Several seconds ticked by as the man grappled with the offer...with thoughts of doing what was right for the company he’d help build into prominence. “I suppose I owe Frank that much.”

  Graham stopped a huge sigh of relief. He didn’t want Dave to know how scared he was to lose him. Or maybe he did. Appealing to Dave’s sense of decency worked. “Thank you, Dave. I appreciate that on Frank’s behalf. It will be a comfort to him during this hard time.”

  Dave nodded. “Okay, I gotta go call Rita. She’s going to be pissed, but maybe the raise will help. How much will I get?”

  “Whatever Tess made.”

  “I was already making what Tess made. Her old man didn’t give her more just because she was his daughter.”

  “Okay, I’ll look at the numbers. This was off-the-cuff, man. Honestly, I’m going to have to look at—”

  “In good time, Mr. Naquin,” Dave said, a slight smile around his mouth. “Maybe you need to call a meeting. You know, announce Frank’s illness officially and tell everyone you need help. They don’t know you, but they love Frank, and nothing makes a person feel like helping out more than knowing they’re needed.”

  Graham paused in sifting through the images and looked up at Dave. “First, please call me Graham. And second, thank you. Not just for staying, but for realizing I need help. You’re right. I need to stop trying to spin plates and build a team.”

  Dave nodded. “No one knows you yet. Everyone’s on pins and needles, scared about stuff, about Frank, about Tess, about losing business. But we’ll all feel better if you are more accessible. This ain’t about being a CEO or a COO or whatever you’re calling it. It’s about leading a team. You can’t lead what you don’t know. That’s what made Frank and Tess good. They knew us, loved us. That’s what works in this business.”

  “You’re absolutely right. Guess I’ve had my head up my ass.” Graham walked over to Dave and extended his hand. “You came in to quit, but you just may have ended up saving Frank Ullo Float Builders. Thank you, Dave.”

  The man took his hand. “This is gonna sound nuts, but I actually feel relieved. I really didn’t want to leave—just wanted to feel like I was valued. How about we have pizza at that meeting? And you might want to invite some of the seasonal people, too. Let everyone in on your plan for continuing Frank Ullo’s success.”

  A plan? He’d had one, but problems had started flying at him. He’d wanted to meet with each head—carpenters, sculptors and painters—to talk about new materials, better construction, efficiency. Keeping up with Tess and Upstart had started wearing on him. But Dave was right. Before he could go out and reconquer the Mardi Gras world, he had get his foundation secure. That meant getting the employees of Frank Ullo on board with a vision. He needed them to feel good about where and who they worked for.

  “Pizza sounds perfect,” Graham said, eyeing the high metal desk sitting just inside the office area. Billie wasn’t here yet, but he’d take Dave’s approach—tell the woman how much he needed her. How much Frank needed her.

  Maybe hearing an appeal for help would soften the woman.... Maybe he’d get fresh coffee without having to make it himself.

  As that thought hit him, Billie walked into the office area, carrying a box of Krispy Kreme Donuts and a frown. “Frickin’ traffic is absurd. I nearly got sideswiped by some idiot on the bridge.”

  “Morning, Buttercup,” Dave crowed.

  Billie gave him the finger. Dave’s laugh echoed in the lobby.

  Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to talk to Billie right now. Her mood wasn’t bad...it was putrid.

  But then she smiled, obviously enjoying the ragging she gave Dave. Then she zeroed in on Graham and her expression changed.

  “Good morning, Billie,” he said.

  “What’s good about it?” she asked, her expression dead serious.

  “You’re alive and have donuts?”

  She stared at him for a few seconds. “Okay, there’s that.”

  “When you have a second, I want to talk to you about having a staff meeting for everyone here at Ullo.”

  She raised her eyebrows. “You want to call a meeting in the warehouse?”

  “I think we need one, don’t you?” Graham said, shooting a glance to Dave who nodded his agreement.

  “About Frank?” Billie asked setting down the donuts and switching on her computer.

  “And Tess and the situation we’re facing in securing the same business we’ve had for the past few decades. We need everyone to channel their energies and offer up solutions. Basically, we need to have a come-to-Jesus meeting.”

  Billie looked thoughtful. “Okay. I can shoot a memo to all the departments to make it official, but the easiest way will be to call all the heads of the departments. When you want it?”

  “Sooner rather than later,” Dave interrupted.

  “I thought you were quitting?” Billie asked Dave.

  “Graham talked me out of it.”

  She turned to Graham. “Really? This guy talked you out of going to Toledano?”

  Graham smiled. “I do have talents.”

  “I never thought you didn’t.”

  “Well, I’m not sure it was talent. I’m pretty sure a grown man near to tears helped bring him around. I fell just short of hitting my knees and begging.”

  Dave laughed. “It wasn’t that bad.”

  “Thankfully, I didn’t have to do either of those things, but I was prepared. I need you, Dave.” And then he looked at Billie. “I need you, too. I’ve been trying so hard to hold things together, to give everyone the impression I have everything under control.”

  Billie straightened. “Well, then. I think we need that meeting and we need some pizza for lunch. Those guys will do anything if you set a pie in front of them.”

  Graham smiled. “Dave said the same thing. Order whatever pizza you want and set it for tomorrow. We’ve got to get back on track. For Frank’s sake.”

  Billie lifted her coffee mug. “For Frank’s sake.”

  Dave nodded. “Damn straight.”

  * * *

  FRANK LOOKED AT THE PHONE as if it were defective before setting it back on his bedside table.

  He felt like shit. The doctors hadn’t lied when they said the cancer-killing meds surging through his bloodstream would rob him of his energy. No, not just his energy, but his flippin’ manhood. He’d tried to put on a game face for Maggie, but he knew she knew. It was a game they play
ed. A game all married couples played.

  “Did you get in touch with her?” Maggie asked, entering their bedroom with a cup of tea. She’d gone to a health food store and come back with all kinds of disgusting tasting teas and several packages of nasty gum that were supposed to beat back the nausea.

  “She don’t answer,” he said, making a face at the steaming cup that smelled like the backside of a troll...or what he imagined a troll’s backside to smell like. “She ain’t ready to talk to me yet.”

  “Tess is stubborn. Like Bella.”

  Frank sighed. When he’d tenderly taken his mother’s hand and revealed his diagnosis, she’d uttered words he’d never heard her use before...right before telling him to get the hell out of her house. Then she’d called him a liar and accused him of playing with her emotions. She’d even thrown a bottle of menthol rub at him.

  Frank hadn’t known how to handle the diminutive woman who’d called him a selfish son-of-a-bitch, and he damned sure wasn’t going to point out her insult actually doubled back on her. He’d merely picked up the—thankfully plastic—bottle of menthol rub, set it on the chest Bella had imported from the old country and shut the door softly behind him.

  The heavy wood didn’t block out the sound of his mother crying.

  God, there was no way a man could prepare himself for hearing his mother sob her heart out, especially when it was something he’d never heard before. Not even during those hard years of covering her bruised face with pancake makeup and losing a baby at the hands of the bastard Frank had never called father had Bella lost control of her emotions.

  Maggie rubbed his shoulder, drawing his thoughts back to Tess and the reason she wouldn’t respond to his call. “Time is all she needs.”

  “Who? Mom or Tess?”

  “Both of them?”

  “My mother is in her nineties, Mags. And there is that time thing.”

  Maggie arched an eyebrow but didn’t say what they were both thinking. Time wasn’t exactly overflowing from his pockets.

  “Well, I’ve had about all I can stand of her stubbornness—Tess not Bella—and if our daughter doesn’t call you before Sunday, she and I are going to have a little heart-to-heart.”

  “Don’t, Maggie. Let her alone. She’ll come around.”

  “Yeah, she will, even if I have to plant my foot on her rump.” Maggie held out the tea. “Now have a bit of this to help with the ickies.”

  “I don’t want it, Mags.”

  “Come on, Frank. You’ll feel better.”

  “Have you tasted that crap?” he asked, pushing the cup back toward her.

  “No,” Maggie said, trying again to get the cup in his hands. “I don’t need it, but you do. It will help you feel less nauseous so you can eat. You need to eat something, sweetheart.”

  “I tell you what. I’ll drink it if you will.”

  Maggie stared down at him, frowning for several seconds. Setting the cup down on the bedside table, she huffed, “Fine. Be right back.”

  Frank smiled as she stalked toward the door, her fanny swaying, her brownish-red hair bouncing at her shoulders. If he didn’t feel like barfing up the dry toast he’d struggled to get down earlier, he’d pull her into bed and remind her what she did to him every time she entered...and exited...a room.

  Minutes later she returned with another steaming cup in hand. “I have mine, so let’s have tea, my fine gentleman.”

  “Bah, you know I ain’t no gentleman. That’s why you married me.”

  Maggie smiled as she lifted the tea to her lips. “So I’m not into stuffy old boring by-the-book guys. You got me pegged.”

  And then she took a sip.

  Before spitting it right back into her cup.

  “Dear God, that’s terrible,” she said, coughing and setting the cup beside his on the bedside table.

  Frank laughed and opened the drawer beneath the two cups. “In that case, can I interest you in a piece of chewing gum?”

  Maggie laughed and that was all he needed to feel better. In fact, he should suggest it to the doc the next time he went in for the chemo—Maggie’s laughter in a bottle.

  Cures whatever ails you.

  Now if he could just get his daughter to talk to him...and get his mother to realize he wasn’t a liar.

  * * *

  TESS JOGGED TOWARD the sideline of the soccer field, the whistle from her refereeing days slapping a rhythm against her sternum. They’d wrapped up practice early...not because they’d accomplished much, but because the attention span of a seven-year-old resembled that of a dog. She might as well have yelled “Squirrel!” every five seconds.

  “Okay, Ladybugs, huddle up,” she shouted, beckoning the frolicking seven-year-olds toward where she stood. They tumbled over one another, giant bows bobbing as they skidded to a halt around her.

  “We’re so good we’re going to beat everyone,” one little girl said with a fist pump.

  “Yeah, the other teams are gonna eat our dust,” another one said.

  “Yay!” Emily squealed, hopping around, making all the other little girls do the same thing. They looked like popcorn on acid.

  Tess blew the whistle. “Okay, settle down. We still have work to do before we can take on any challengers. And, first thing first, we have to work on a team cheer.”

  Ten blinking eyes met her gaze.

  “We gotta have a cheer?” one asked.

  “Well, sure. It’s how we show unity. The other teams will know exactly who they are playing when we do our Ladybug cheer. So I’m giving you a homework assignment,” Tess said with a smile.

  “Awww,” several groaned.

  “Well, this is a fun homework assignment,” Tess conceded, putting her arms around the nearest girls and drawing them into a huddle. “I want all of you to go home and work on a fun little chant. Something about being red, black and not afraid of anyone.”

  “Are ladybugs mean?” Emily asked, her expression growing concerned.

  “Of course not, but they’re tough just like we are. Can everyone do that?”

  Heads nodded, bows bobbed and smiles met hers.

  “You’re the best coach ever,” one girl said. Tess thought her name was Piper. She needed to go over the roster and put names with faces.

  “And you’re the best team,” Tess said, deciding she’d missed her calling. Who cared about Mardi Gras floats when there was kids’ soccer to coach? “Now everyone put your hand in. I’m going to count to three, and then we’re all going to yell ‘ladybugs,’ okay?”

  More head bobbing.

  “1-2-3—”

  “Ladybugs!” they all screamed.

  The team broke and scampered toward their parents sitting in the collapsible stands, and Tess walked to where Graham stood cleaning up the paper cups around the cooler he’d brought.

  “Good practice,” he said looking up. He wore athletic shorts and a T-shirt that skimmed his toned stomach. He was totally drool-worthy, but Tess pretended he had a wart on his nose and hair growing out of his ears. No noticing his thighs with the sprinkling of hair. No ogling the smooth tanned nape of his neck. No thinking about licking those abs.

  Nope.

  Not at all.

  “Yes, they did better today.”

  “You’re really good with them,” he said, squinting against the sun. “I’m glad you volunteered to help.”

  A warmth blossomed inside her. She shrugged it off. “I’m not the best, but I’m better than poor Jim.”

  The both turned and looked at Jim who waved at them from the top of the bleachers. He had his leg propped up and looked relaxed in his new job of team manager.

  “Seriously, Tess, thanks for doing this.”

  “Surprisingly, I like it.”

  Emily came galloping ove
r. “Guess what?”

  “What?” Both she and Graham said in unison.

  “Kathryn is inviting me to her birthday party. We’re going to ride ponies!”

  “Cool,” Tess said, offering the child a high five.

  Out of the corner of her eye, Tess spotted Monique charging across the field in her wrap dress and metallic strappy sandals. Her oversize sunglasses covered most of her face, but she smiled at Emily as she approached them.

  “Mom!” Emily shouted, kicking it into high gear to reach her mother. Monique caught Emily’s shoulders before she bulldozed her over. “You came to practice...but it’s already over. You shoulda seen me. I kicked the ball good today. I’m pretty awesome at this soccer stuff.”

  “Good, sweetie,” Monique said, heading toward where Tess stood with Graham. Tess couldn’t see her boss’s eyes, but she had the feeling they carefully studied her and Graham, weighing, measuring...perhaps even suspecting. Especially after Tess admitted having his cell phone number. “Tess, what are you doing here, and why are you wearing a whistle? Are you coaching the team?”

  “I told you I volunteered to help Jim. I brought Emily to practice, remember?” Hmm...what was Monique’s game? Or maybe she had ADD and hadn’t really listened when Tess had told her.

  “Oh, of course,” Monique said, propping her glasses on her head and glancing at Graham. It wasn’t a possessive glance though it was familiar. “And you’re helping, too?”

  Graham nodded. “Jim needed it.”

  Monique looked over at Jim before shifting her attention back on her ex. “I’m sure it’s nice for Emily to have her father so involved in her everyday life. Finally.”

  Monique’s words should have been complimentary, but they sounded anything but. A sudden wave of dislike flooded Tess. The woman liked making Graham feel guilty for the years he’d been in Houston, and that seemed such a petty thing to do in front of their daughter. In front of Tess.

  “Yeah,” he said, smiling at his daughter, who came and nestled herself against his side. He wound an arm about her shoulders, squeezing her to him. “I’m happy to help the Lake End Ladybugs get ready to win the championship.”

  Emily giggled.