The Real Deal

by Lucy Monroe

  He watched with interest as her brown eyes went almost black with irritation. “But if you’ve already made up your mind and nothing I can say will change it, why listen at all?”

  “Because I promised Eric that I would.”

  “But you will listen, right?”

  “Yes, I’ll listen,” he said for the second time that night.

  That impressive determination burned in her expression again. “And I’ll do my best to convince you that your mind should not be made up.”

  He stood up. “But not tonight. I’ve got several experiments to catalog before going to bed.”

  Surprisingly, she didn’t complain. She simply nodded and actually smiled. “I’ll look forward to seeing you tomorrow then.”

  By five o’clock the following afternoon, Simon hadn’t made an appearance and Amanda’s spirits were pretty much in the toilet.

  He had as good as said his mind was already made up. His affirmation that he would listen to her arguments had less ability to buoy her up today than it had the night before when she had been mellowed by his company and three glasses of wine. However, even if she thought it would be a complete waste of time, she had to present her ideas to him.

  What other choice did she have?

  The deal was as dead as her love life without his cooperation.

  His threat to start selling his ideas to the highest bidder instead of using them for the good of the company was an impressive one. She’d spent the morning clarifying some things with Eric. One of them had been Simon’s agreement with the company for his computer designs. He didn’t have one.

  There was no way Brant Computers could force Simon to give them even first right of refusal on his future technical discoveries. She could not see Eric Brant dismissing such an eventuality as of no consequence. Even if he did, she was sure the rest of the family who held stock in Brant Computers wouldn’t.

  Though Simon and Eric owned the biggest blocks of stock, with thirty-five percent each, there were five other cousins who did not work with or for Brant Computers that held the remaining thirty percent of stock between them. In other circumstances, she would have considered going to the other stockholders to solicit support of the proposed merger.

  But Simon’s threat put paid to that idea.

  It wasn’t one she’d relished anyway. The company was family held and such a move by her would cause untold damage in the relationships among them. No. If this merger was going to go through, she needed the cooperation of one eccentric genius.

  And each progressive hour without him coming out of his lab saw her grow further and further depressed.

  She was going over her e-mail from work with desultory interest when her mobile phone rang.

  She flipped open the palm size unit and said, “Amanda Zachary.”

  “Amanda, Daniel here.”

  Already dragging spirits plummeted.

  “Hello, Daniel. I’m just putting together that report on the Garvey deal you asked for in this morning’s e-mail.” Okay, she’d been thinking about it rather than doing it, but she’d send it off soon regardless.

  “Great, but I wasn’t calling about that. I wanted to know how dinner with Eric and Simon Brant went last night.”

  Of course he did.

  “And don’t tell me you didn’t discuss business again.” Daniel’s voice was laced with a fair amount of sarcasm and warning at the same time.

  At least she could refute that. “We discussed the merger.”

  “Good.”

  Her next words were a lot harder to say. “Simon is still very much against it.”

  “What the hell . . .” Daniel’s growl left no doubt as to his reaction to Simon’s continued reserve regarding the merger.

  “He’s worried about the employees.” Among other things.

  “How commendable of him.” The tone of Daniel’s voice made it clear that employees were the last consideration he would have when looking at a lucrative deal like the one Amanda had proposed. “But that’s not as serious as we first anticipated, is it? I read over your latest report and with the cooperation of the other stockholders, Simon Brant’s vote can be overruled at the board meeting.”

  Chapter 8

  She could feel the beginnings of a tension headache throbbing behind her eyes. She rubbed her forehead. “Neither Eric, nor Simon, want a family war over this.”

  “But Eric Brant wants the merger,” Daniel’s voice came out as smooth as a viper striking.

  “They’re friends and cousins. It’s a tight relationship.” She pointed out what should be obvious, even to a Southern California businessman. “I don’t think Eric wants the merger at the expense of Simon’s goodwill.”

  “Then, I guess it’s your job to make him want it, isn’t it?”

  Bile rose in her throat and she swallowed it down. Daniel could not possibly comprehend what he was suggesting. “You’re not talking about a disagreement between faceless stockholders here, Daniel. You’re talking about me instigating a war between two men who are not only friends, but are also family.”

  She hoped reiterating the facts would make them sink in to Daniel’s mind.

  Pain pounded in her temples. “I think the original plan of trying to gain Simon Brant’s cooperation is still the best one.”

  Eric had two sisters living in Arizona and a mother who split her time between the states her children resided in. He also had a wife and a child, with another one on the way.

  Simon had no one but Eric.

  She could not come between the two men.

  “Then I suggest you use the opportunity of staying in his house to better advantage.”

  “I’m talking to him every chance I get.”

  “Perhaps you should consider more than verbal persuasion.” Simon had once called her a snake-oil salesman. Daniel sounded like one now.

  She stood in stunned silence for several seconds. “What exactly are you proposing?”

  “Men are more vulnerable to certain types of persuasion than others. If the lure of getting rich through the merger isn’t enough to sway Simon Brant, you might want to consider taking your negotiation tactics to a more personal level.”

  She would have laughed at the ridiculousness of the suggestion if it wasn’t such an offensive one. “Are you implying I should try to convince Simon with sex, Daniel?” She really couldn’t believe that was what her boss was saying.

  “Don’t be so crude, Amanda. You’re obviously personally involved on some level or you wouldn’t be living in the guy’s house.”

  He believed she and Simon were already having an affair.

  “I’m staying here so I can talk to Simon, not because we’re sleeping together!”

  “Right. Look, all I’m saying is that you should use every weapon at your disposal to ensure the success of this deal. You’ve got a lot riding on it. Some might even say your whole career path is at stake here. This is a big deal, Amanda, and I showed a lot of faith in your professionalism when I sent you up there to handle the preliminary negotiations alone.”

  Anger and fear warred inside her, leaving a metallic taste in her mouth and pushing her tension headache into the realm of a migraine. “We must be thinking about two different kinds of professionalism here, because the one you’re talking about is illegal in this state.”

  “Don’t be so damn naïve.”

  Lance had said the same thing when she had insisted on getting a divorce after seeing him engaged in that lewd ménage à trois. She hadn’t told him what she’d seen, simply that she knew he’d been having affairs.

  He hadn’t even denied it. He’d told her not to be so naïve, that all men had affairs. He’d then laid the blame squarely back on her for not being a sexually satisfying partner. She was willing to accede that she’d failed in the sex stakes, but it wasn’t all her fault. How could one woman possibly fulfill the sexual function of both a man’s female and male lovers?

  “Amanda? Are you there?”

  “Yes, I’m he
re.”

  “Good. I thought the call had been dropped.”

  “No. Port Mulqueen has excellent cell phone coverage, being so close to Seattle’s transfer towers.” Why was she going on about cell phone service when her boss had just suggested she engage in a sophisticated and modern version of the oldest profession in the world?

  “Whatever. I’ve got a meeting in another five minutes, so I’ve got to go. If you don’t think you can get Simon’s cooperation, cut your losses and start working on Eric Brant. One way or another, this deal is going to go through.”

  “Simon threatened to start selling his computer designs to the highest bidder if Brant Computers goes public with its stock in order to accomplish the merger.” That ought to spike Daniel’s guns. “I don’t think you’ll get anyone in his family to agree to the merger if it means losing his brilliance to one of the bigger companies.”

  Even merged, Extant and Brant would find it difficult to compete with the biggest companies in the industry if Simon submitted his designs to an industry-wide bidding war.

  The word that came out of Daniel’s mouth was only four letters long and very unpleasant. “He’d be cutting his own throat.”

  “That’s not how he sees it.”

  “He’ll still own his share of the merged company, damn it!”

  “Yes, and he can still draw income from it, but he’ll personally make more money selling his designs to the highest bidder.”

  “Not if it means Brant and Extant going under.”

  “Why should it? Simon’s just one man, Daniel. He may be brilliant, but the design teams for both companies are some of the brightest in the industry.” She wasn’t arguing because she wanted to dismiss Simon’s threat, but because Daniel seemed oblivious to reality.

  “Simon Brant is Brant Computers.”

  “Eric wouldn’t agree with that sentiment, I’m sure.”

  “Eric is management. Simon’s working on things that could change the face of the entire industry. We want him part of the merger. He has to be part of the merger.”

  We who? Extant’s executive team? They hadn’t even mentioned Simon Brant to her when she’d made her proposal for the merger.

  “I can’t believe Eric hasn’t had him sign an intellectual property rights agreement.” Daniel sounded aggrieved.

  “Simon owns a big chunk of the company. I doubt Eric ever thought there would be a need. Besides, there’s no saying Simon would ever have agreed to such a thing.” The man was pretty independent and he definitely saw his work as his own.

  “All the more reason for you to use your influence to get Simon Brant to agree to the merger.”

  Anger overcame her fear for her career. She was not a prostitute, glorified or otherwise. “You know, I don’t think you could possibly mean what I think you mean, because if you did, you’d be making Extant and yourself vulnerable to a huge sexual harassment lawsuit.”

  When she hung up, Daniel was still spluttering.

  Amanda slammed her taped fist into the sandbag. It made a satisfying thud. She did it again. And again. And again.

  She was sweaty. Her knuckles hurt. Her muscles ached. And still, the anger burned inside of her. How could Daniel have suggested something so repugnant? She’d worked for Extant for five years and she’d never been asked to do anything remotely unethical.

  Now this.

  She’d never been so high up on a project before either. Is this the way Extant did business at the executive level? She couldn’t believe it was, but Daniel had hinted that she should use her sexual prowess to convince Simon of the merger. There was no getting around, under, or over it.

  Her boss expected her to use her body as a bargaining chip.

  She laughed out loud as she stepped back and connected with the sandbag with several roundhouse kicks, one right after the other. Daniel knew she was no sex kitten. She could no more convince Simon of her point of view using her nonexistent sensuality than she could teach Chinese as a second language.

  But Daniel was convinced she was already sleeping with Simon and that was why he thought she could use her body for the cause. Which didn’t alter her disgusted reaction to his suggestion. If she were involved personally with Simon, she would never use emotional or sexual blackmail to try to get his agreement on a business proposition.

  With that thought, she switched legs and continued the roundhouse kicks with her other leg.

  A disquieting thought nagged at her as she sought physically to alleviate the rage bubbling through her like hot lava. Was she most angry because her boss had suggested something so completely unethical, or because she knew there was no chance she could ever follow through on it?

  She shook her head at the unpalatable idea and went through the entire repertoire of one-step sparring techniques Simon had taught her, using the bag as a dummy.

  Her emotions began to separate themselves as the roiling mass of sensations inside her ebbed slightly. Okay, the anger was definitely at being told to do something so underhanded; but the accompanying pain had nothing to do with tender knuckles or aching muscles. It was the result of knowing she was as attractive to Simon as a carp to a salmon fisherman.

  She didn’t want to use her body to seduce Simon, but knowing she couldn’t was really bad for her feminine ego. Almost as bad as night after night of no sex with Lance had been. And why Simon, who was nothing more than a business associate when all was said and done, should have that kind of power over her feelings was a mystery she didn’t want to solve.

  “He wanted you to do what?” Jill’s shriek was every bit as indignant as Amanda could have wished.

  If there was one thing she could count on in her life, it was Jillian Sinclair’s loyalty.

  “He suggested I use sex as some kind of weapon in convincing Simon to go along with the merger. He thinks Simon and I are already sleeping together.”

  “The son of a bitch. I can’t believe it. That kind of stuff is only supposed to happen on daytime drama.”

  Amanda found herself laughing when she was sure she couldn’t. “Right. It’s the sort of scenario one of your script writers could have come up with.”

  “Not our script writers. They’ve got better taste than that.”

  “Right. I mean that story line where the show’s major male lead’s current love interest turned out to be his long lost sister from an affair his father had with his gardener’s daughter, was more tasteful than Daniel’s smarmy suggestion. And more believable too,” she admitted ruefully. “I’m not Mata Hari material.”

  “Mata Hari was a spy, not a corporate negotiator. Of course you would be a poor casting for that role, but if you’re trying to imply you couldn’t seduce Simon Brant, you’re way off.” Jillian made an indignant huffing noise. “The male of our species are not all like Lance Rogers.”

  Remembering the almost-kiss that had been all on her side, Amanda laughed with black humor. “I couldn’t heat Simon up with a blowtorch, much less use my imaginary sex appeal to manipulate him.”

  “Just because you don’t have an emaciated body like half the women in Southern California, doesn’t mean you have no sex appeal.” This from the woman who made Twiggy look like an overeater. “If you’d let me fix you up with somebody decent, you’d find that out in a hurry.”

  “Jill, we’ve been down this conversational byway.”

  “And we’ll keep going down it until you give in. Though from the sound of things, you don’t need fixing up so much as loosening up with the man you’re living with.”

  “I am not living with Simon Brant.” Why did everyone seem so confused on that point? “I’m living in his house. It’s not the same thing at all.” She did her own huff of indignation. “Besides, if you had seen the woman he once considered marrying, you would realize he could never possibly find me attractive. I’d make two of her and she’s pregnant, for Heaven’s sake.”

  “Well, he didn’t marry her, so that means he couldn’t have been that taken with her.”

&n
bsp; Amanda wished she could convince herself of Jillian’s perspective, but she couldn’t. “She married his cousin instead.”

  “That definitely puts her out of the picture,” Jillian said with unhidden satisfaction. “There’s nothing to stop you from pursuing something fun, if not meaningful, with this guy.”

  “Simon Brant does not want to have sex with me!” she yelled, totally exasperated and over the edge of her control.

  “Are you sure about that?” The words were spoken in a deep, masculine voice from behind her.

  Her heart plummeting to her toes, she spun around with the cell phone stuck to the side of her head like a hi-tech earmuff. Simon lounged in the guest room doorway; the formerly closed door swung carelessly against the wall.

  She opened her mouth, but the only thing that came out was air. Jill was saying something, but Amanda couldn’t make any sense of it. She was too busy hyperventilating from embarrassment.

  “Simon,” she choked out.

  “Yes, Simon. You’re obviously interested in the man.” Jill’s impatient voice in her ear had a dreamlike quality to it.

  Reality was six feet, two inches of masculine perfection and a sardonic gleam in gunmetal gray eyes.

  “Jill.” she said, breaking into her friend’s familiar tirade on Amanda’s lack of a love life.

  “What?”

  “Simon’s here. I think he wants to talk to me.”

  Jillian’s gasp was audible. “Simon’s there?”

  “Yes.”

  “How much did he hear?” Her friend’s whisper was too little, way too late.

  “Enough.”

  Simon’s black brow rose in question.

  Jill said “Oh.”

  “Exactly. Look, Jillian, I’ve got to go.”

  “Sure. Call me later.”

  “Maybe tomorrow.” If she hadn’t died of mortification by then. Could one die from that sort of thing?

  She snapped the cell phone shut. “I didn’t hear you knock.”

  “I think your concentration was elsewhere.”

  It had been. Oh yes, it had been. “You’re right.”