Less Than Three: A Romantic Comedy

by Maggie Dallen

  His wink was over the top and made her laugh out loud. “You’re an unforgettable, traffic-stopping, out of this world knockout.”

  She laughed, and he turned to walk in the door but just before he shut the door behind him, he added, “And I just might be the luckiest guy in the world.”

  Game over. Lacey didn’t believe in swooning, but if there was ever a time when she thought that word might be appropriate, this was it.

  Despite everything that had happened between her and Jess, she felt like she was walking on air.

  That feeling transported her through the crowd as she said brief goodbyes to her new friends from the company and straight out the door where a doorman graciously offered to flag her a taxi.

  She was grinning to herself in the lobby when the elevator doors opened with a ding behind her. She turned, half expecting to see Alex pop out demanding one last kiss before she headed home.

  But it wasn’t Alex, it was Arthur Wingate, looking debonair in a stately, older gentleman kind of way. Temporarily forgetting that she hated this whole family, Lacey found herself matching his enormous grin with a pleasant smile of her own. He strode up to her, his voice booming in the marble, cavernous lobby. “Leaving so soon?”

  Lacey was about to respond with a vague, pleasant excuse for her abrupt departure but he had reached her side and cut her off with a quiet voice. “Might I have a word before you go?”

  Lacey’s smile faded. Uh oh, here we go.

  She let him escort her outside, where the wind was picking up as thunderclouds rolled overhead.

  “I understand you had words with my daughter tonight.” Arthur’s look was grave and filled with concern. Could it be that he was out here to make amends on his daughter’s behalf?

  Hope flickered and immediately sputtered out as he continued in a calm tone, his expression still filled with regret. “I’m afraid my daughter has a lot to learn about boardroom tactics. You see, she still believes in playing nice.”

  Lacey’s jaw dropped. That was playing nice?

  He draped an arm across her shoulder as he led her toward a taxi that the doorman had stopped. The doorman was holding the door open for her, ready to bundle her into the vehicle and send her on her way.

  Arthur’s voice was deep in her ear. “You see, my dear, what my daughter failed to mention is that I have absolutely no loyalty to the Newsom family.” She stopped in her tracks, forcing him to stop beside her. He looked into her face with a friendly look of amusement. “Don’t look so shocked, sweetheart. This is business, that’s all. I’m loyal to the company and to the shareholders—nothing less, nothing more.”

  Lacey was so shocked by his sudden outburst of honesty, she didn’t even blink as the first raindrops fell against her cheeks.

  “I had planned to run for president myself, you know. But then Marcus stepped in and Alex decided to man up and, well,” he gave a self-deprecating shrug, “I decided to do what I do best—pick the best horse to win and back it.”

  Lacey, unsure of where this was going, allowed herself a brief moment of hope. “And you decided that Alex was the best bet for the company?”

  He shot her a look that told her she was a fool.

  “I always back my family, first and foremost. To be honest, I don’t think either man deserves to run this company, but Alex is likable and bright enough to know that he needs people like me to do the heavy lifting. He needs someone like me to make the hard decisions.”

  Lacey swallowed the bile that rose in her throat. This man was disgusting. He was a snake.

  He wasn’t finished. “Family above all, that’s my motto. And when my daughter decided that she wanted young Alex to be her husband, I couldn’t think of a better idea. He would be a shoe-in for the position, with my backing. She would get her trophy husband, and I would get my puppet president. Everybody’s a winner.”

  His teeth sparkled white in the darkening light. This man truly was the devil.

  She had to clear her throat before she could speak. “Why are you telling me this?”

  He looked surprised. “Because you’ve gone and ruined that plan, sweetheart. And that’s just not going to fly.”

  “I haven’t done anything,” she started to protest.

  “Oh, you’ve done your fair share.” He graced her with a conciliatory smile. “But don’t worry, I don’t hold grudges like my daughter does. No, I just want what my family deserves and what we’ve set our sights on.”

  “You want Alex to marry your daughter?” she asked. She didn’t know whether to be horrified or amused. “Sir,” she said, finding her voice again, “do you happen to know what century we’re in? You can’t just choose who you want for your daughter and make it happen. It doesn’t work that way.”

  The older man seemed unperturbed by her mocking remarks.

  “Let me make this clear, Miss Ames. I have no problem changing allegiances at this stage in the game. In fact, it would be quite fun.” His look of amusement spoke volumes.

  “But why?”

  “Because, my dear, I am the one who should be leading this company. I have stood by Alex’s grandfather for more than a decade. Head of this company is my rightful position. I would be happy to stand in the background and run this company through Alex, for my daughter’s sake, but that is not the only option. And if she gets nothing out of this deal, well then, I may have to rethink my options.”

  Anger warred with fear. “I don’t care for threats, Mr. Wingate.”

  He laughed loudly at that. “And I don’t make threats. You should know that.”

  “What do you want?”

  He raised a brow in surprise. Clearly he hadn’t expected her to cut to the chase. She did her best to maintain a calm exterior despite the overwhelming anger and fear that left her perilously close to bursting into tears. Or losing her lunch.

  “What. Do. You. Want?” she repeated, proud of the way her voice didn’t shake.

  “You gone, of course.” He was so matter-of-fact, they might as well be talking about the weather.

  “Of course,” she repeated under her breath.

  He gave her a condescending look. “It’s nothing personal, my dear. In fact, I think you’ve done wonders for the boy. You clearly know your stuff.”

  He looked so genuine, she didn’t know whether to laugh or scream at the compliment. “Uh…thank you?”

  “If it were up to me,” he continued, his thick drawl thicker than ever. “I would never have ruined your chances at Ackland. But Jess…” He shrugged and gave her a knowing look that said daughters, what can you do?

  “No, you just want to ruin Alex’s career,” she said.

  He looked surprised again at the bitter tone of her voice. Well, gee golly, she must’ve left her manners back at the plantation. Not for the first time, she wondered where on earth this man got his southern drawl.

  “Now don’t be so mad, my dear. That boy will be just fine in the long run. He’s not ready for the challenges that come with running a business. He’s not ready to make the tough decisions.”

  “But you are,” she finished for him.

  “That’s right.”

  “So if I don’t leave Alex, you’re going to back Marcus?”

  He shook his head with a rueful laugh. “Oh no, that young man is far too unpredictable. There was never a chance of me backing that horse.”

  “Of course not. You just want someone you can control.”

  He gave her a warning look—the type a principal might give a student who’d been naughty. “I want someone I can teach.”

  He continued as though he didn’t hear her snort of disbelief. “Alex will make me a fine son and one day, he’ll make a great leader. When I explain to the rest of the board how sickly his grandfather is, I’m sure they’ll agree that the most responsible thing I could possibly do, for Alex and for the company, is to run the business while he gets his footing.”

  “You’re trying to convince me you’re doing this for him?” Her shout was
drowned out by a crash of thunder overhead.

  He ignored her outburst as he peered up into the night sky. “You better get home, little lady. We can continue this conversation in the morning.”

  True to his word, Arthur Wingate arrived at her hotel room bright and early. Lacey was awake when he knocked—she’d never gone to bed. She’d struggled with her options. It all came down to one question—she knew she was willing to risk her career to give them a chance…but was she willing to risk his?

  She was ready for Arthur when he arrived. She’d spent hours agonizing over the letter she would deliver to the older man.

  She looked out the window as he read it, she had no desire to see his expression as he gloated in her misery.

  She heard him fold the paper when he was finished reading and turned to see him slip it into the envelope. “Well done, my dear. This should do nicely.”

  It would do the job. Nicely was not the word she’d use for it. It was a Dear John letter—there was nothing nice about it. She’d struggled to find an explanation Alex would believe for her sudden change of mind. Eventually she’d decided to put to use that stupid lie about her broken engagement.

  In her letter to Alex she explained that trying to be together was too much of a risk to her career. She told him that Sam had reached out to her and wanted to make a go of it and she had decided to give their relationship another try. All lies. But those lies would do the trick. He’d believe them.

  He would go on to win the election, and she would go home to Sam, her cat, and her job at the bar. She’d start over, and she’d make her way into the career of her dreams. Not with Ackland, perhaps, but there had to be other opportunities out there. Maybe she could convince Rick to write her a letter of recommendation.

  She hadn’t received final word about her termination, but she’d come home the night before to find an email from Rick saying that they needed to have a talk—face to face—as soon as she was back in San Francisco. Something told her Jess wasn’t one for idle threats, and it didn’t take a genius to read the writing on the wall.

  Arthur was moving to the door—his business here was done. Lacey could get on with her packing and make some excuse to Alex about why she was out of touch for the weekend. Life would go on.

  Arthur was about to open the door when she stopped him. “Remember, you promised not to give him the letter until after the election. And you gave your word, you’ll continue to back him.”

  “As long as you stay away,” he finished with a smile. “I remember. And I always keep my word.” He made a gesture that was half bow, half tip of an imaginary hat and walked out the door.

  Chapter Twelve

  ALEX COULDN’T WAIT for this day to be over. He’d been up since the crack of dawn, his stomach a ball of knots. He fidgeted with his tie and stuck his head out of his office doorway and shouted down the hall.

  “Heather, have you seen Lacey?”

  She shouted, “No, boss, she hasn’t come in yet.”

  “Where is she?” he grumbled to himself. He hadn’t seen her all weekend—but that had been his fault. He’d taken his grandfather out to their house in the Hamptons for some rest and relaxation. Not that it had done much good. His grandfather was officially the worst patient in the history of medicine.

  He’d spent most of the weekend harassing Alex about his speech and lecturing him about business affairs. He’d texted Lacey on his way out of town letting her know he’d be off the radar for a couple of days and she’d texted back wishing him luck with the patient from hell.

  She’d said she’d see him when he got back and that was the last he’d heard from her. He thought at the very least he’d see her this morning for one last pep talk before the big meeting, but she was nowhere to be found.

  Instead, it was Dawn who came in to make sure he was ready. She helped him fix his tie and listened as he went through the speech one last time.

  Finally Heather walked in to the office, with Raj in tow like a little puppy following his master. “Showtime, boss,” Heather announced.

  Raj clapped him on the shoulder and steered him toward the door. His little posse of cheerleaders followed him down the hall to the conference room but he entered the lion’s den on his own.

  Two extraordinarily nerve-wracking hours later, it was over. The election was over, and he had won by a landslide. He hurried out of the conference room, absently shaking hands and accepting congratulations on his way.

  The speech itself had been a bit of a blur. After the countless hours of practicing with Lacey, the words had come out of his mouth of their own volition, and his body and tone oozed warmth and confidence like a well-oiled machine.

  All their work had paid off. When Marcus stood to make his bid for the position, he’d ended up looking like a whiny schoolboy pleading for a spot on the varsity team.

  He’d never stood a chance. Even Arthur, who’d been prepared to stand up and speak on Alex’s behalf, had remained quiet. His support hadn’t been necessary. Alex had won the election all on his own—and by a landslide.

  His friends were waiting in his office, and he was soon surrounded by well-wishers patting him on the back and cheering for his success. He smiled and laughed, but he was only half listening. He was too busy looking around for Lacey and checking his phone and emails for some message from her.

  Dawn finally clued him in. “Lacey called to wish you good luck,” she said. “She said to say she’s sorry she has to miss your victory celebration.”

  Alex’s brows drew together in confusion as he accepted the envelope she handed him. Lacey wasn’t here? The thought didn’t seem to register in his brain.

  Why wasn’t she here? This was just as much her success as it was his.

  He waited until his friends left before opening the envelope. He hadn’t made it halfway through the letter before the ground dropped out from beneath him. The voices around him faded to an echo as he read the words that broke his heart.

  He wanted to crumple the letter into a ball and toss it into the garbage can. He wanted to scream and shout and get on the next plane to San Francisco. He wanted to kiss her more than anything in the world.

  How was it that he had won everything he’d set his sight on and lost the only thing that mattered? Every bit of joy he’d felt at winning the election drained from his body. It meant nothing if he couldn’t share it with Lacey—the woman who had helped him become the man this company deserved. The woman who saw the best in him and who believed in him when no one else had.

  Or had she?

  Had all of her faith and confidence just been part of her job? Had she been faking it all along?

  He saw her clear blue eyes and heard her infectious laugh. No. He could never believe she could be so manipulative.

  But then … what did he know? There was so much they never discussed. So many topics they’d agreed to talk about after the election. Like Sam.

  “Are you all right, man?” Raj asked. He and the others were passing around glasses of champagne, and he was holding one out to Alex with a look of concern. “You look like you’re going to kill somebody.”

  Now Dawn and Heather were staring at him with concern as well. “Dude, your face is purple,” Heather said.

  Alex forced himself to inhale and push away the murderous thoughts he was harboring toward Sam. He took the glass from Raj and lifted it in the air. “To a new day,” he said. If anyone noticed how fake his smile was, they were too polite to comment on it as they clinked glasses.

  When his office line rang, he nearly shoved Raj aside to lunge for it. It was Lacey, it had to be. She was calling to tell him it was all a mistake.

  That fleeting hope was extinguished in a heartbeat as he heard his grandfather’s personal nurse on the other end. There was no confusing that heavy German accent for anyone other than Helga.

  “Your grandfather wishes to see you,” she said. Her thick accent and low voice issuing a command rather than passing along a request.

 
“Of course. I’ll be there at once.”

  Dawn offered to give him a ride to his grandfather’s penthouse so he could get there quickly. The only other person in the world who cared as much as Alex did about the election’s outcome deserved to hear the good news in person.

  “Well, of course, you won,” the old man grumbled when Alex burst into the apartment announcing the results. But his grandfather’s rare smile softened the words.

  “I’m proud of you, Alex.”

  For a moment, Alex thought he’d heard wrong. Then, as if that rare and heartfelt moment had never happened, his grandfather resumed the role of the grouchy patient that he’d been perfecting since his doctor had ordered him to bedrest.

  “So why didn’t your girlfriend come with you? Is she still mad at me for meddling in your personal business? Well too bad. It’s my job to meddle; that’s what grandfathers do.”

  Alex tried to force a smile and change the subject. He didn’t want to talk about Lacey at that moment. He was too afraid of what he might say or do if he let himself dwell on the fact that he would never see her again. That she was no longer a part of his life. The thought was unbearable. “I thought you didn’t approve of Lacey and me.” He moved to sit on the side of his grandfather’s bed. “I thought you wanted me to get back with Jess.”

  His response was almost inaudible, but Alex caught it. “Well, maybe I was wrong.”

  “Excuse me?” His grandfather made a show of rolling his eyes, but Alex continued. “My ears must be deceiving me because I know you didn’t just admit to being wrong about something.”

  His grandfather had the good grace to chuckle at that. “Well, maybe I was. I’m not proud to admit it, but even the best of us can be challenged by our fears from time to time.”

  “And you were afraid that I couldn’t win this election on my own.” The words were out there and Alex wished that his grandfather would refute them, but they both know it was the truth. But how could Alex fault his grandfather for not having faith in him when he hadn’t had faith in himself?

  “You’re right. For a little while all I could see was the boy who loved to race up and down the stairwell while your father and I conducted meetings. I was so caught up in my own fears about the company’s future and….well, dying…that I couldn’t see the man standing right in front of me. A man who more than deserves to be a leader in our company. A man whose father would be so very proud if he could be here today.”