The C.E.O.'s Unplanned Proposal

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The C.E.O.'s Unplanned Proposal Page 7

by Karen Toller Whittenburg


  She laughed, too, glad they had a basic understanding already. “He thinks I’m an events planner,” she said confidingly. “He wouldn’t believe me when I said he’d dialed the wrong number and he wouldn’t take no for an answer, so here I am, roaming the place at will. You’d think he’d be a little more careful.” She realized how that might sound. “Not that I’m a threat to anybody. But he really should pay more attention to what people are trying to say to him.”

  “He has a great deal on his mind and doesn’t always listen as well as he ought to, that’s true.” The old man reached beside the door frame, picked up a polished-wood cane to aid in balancing as he stepped over the threshold and out of the greenhouse. “So he dialed your phone number by mistake and that’s how you wound up here today?”

  She felt a little embarrassed at her runaway tongue, but she’d always had a knack for recognizing a kindred spirit, and besides, it was a bit late for scruples now. “Actually, he thinks that a mutual friend gave him my number…and well, she probably did. But it had to be by accident, not design. I mean, no one who knows me would ever mistake me for an events planner.”

  His smile widened at that. “This mutual friend…may I ask her name?”

  It was an odd question for him to ask, but there seemed no good reason not to tell him. “Ilsa Fairchild.”

  “Ilsa,” he said, his voice softening with pleasure. “Then you must be….?”

  “Katie,” she said, extending her hand. “Katie Canton.”

  “Katie,” he repeated with a soft, slow regard, as if her name, itself, pleased him in some intangible way. He braced his weight with the cane as he stripped off one of the dirty canvas gloves and grasped her outstretched hand. “Archer Braddock,” he said.

  Katie’s grip faltered. “B-Braddock? You’re one of…?”

  “The family, but I hope you won’t hold that against me.” His eyes twinkled with delight at her chagrin. “As it happens, I’m the best listener of the bunch…even though I can be quite deaf when it suits me.”

  She laughed in spite of her embarrassment…or perhaps because of it. “I’m sorry if I—”

  “Don’t give it a second thought. You didn’t say anything I wouldn’t say myself. My grandsons don’t listen to me either, if that’s any consolation to you. And Adam’s the worst of the lot. He never listens when he ought to, or maybe I should say, especially when he ought to.” He tossed the gloves on top of the mound of potting soil. “So, Katie, let’s talk about you, but first, please tell me you’ll be staying for dinner.”

  “Oh, I don’t think my invitation runs that long.” She fell into a slow, but steady walk beside him. “I’m to let Abbott know so he can let Benson know as soon as I’m ready to return to Providence.”

  “Surely my grandson offered you some lunch?”

  “No,” she said, realizing she was hungry. “I’m sure it never crossed his mind. He’s a very busy guy, as I’m sure you’ve noticed.”

  Archer Braddock shook his head. “I worry about that boy, but never mind, my dear, you’ll have lunch with me. Then Adam can take you out for dinner this evening when you both get back into Providence.”

  “I don’t think that’s very likely,” she said. “I accused him of being a closet eater on the way down here and he didn’t deny it.”

  Archer looked startled, then he laughed. “And my grandson didn’t take the hint and invite you out for dinner?”

  “Oh, it wasn’t a hint,” Katie said, wanting to ensure this nice man didn’t think she was making a play for his grandson. According to Rorie, every woman who met Adam Braddock fell panting at his feet and, if that were true, Katie wanted to be sure to abstain. “Just an observation.”

  “And an astute one at that.” He nodded toward the house. “It’s such a lovely day, would you enjoy having lunch on the terrace?”

  “Looking out on these wonderful gardens? I’d like that more than anything,” she said and meant it.

  ADAM HEARD the laughter all the way in his office. It drifted across his conversation with Lara as a dim distraction and then settled vaguely, but pleasingly into his consciousness. Eventually, the sound and a persistent empty sensation in his stomach drew him out to the terrace, where his grandfather and Katie were looking relaxed and happy, seated at a table which bore the traces of a leisurely lunch.

  “I see you two have met,” he said, pulling out a chair and thinking the gardens looked especially nice this year. Katie looked especially nice, too, the red of her blouse making a nice spot of color against the lush green backdrop of the gardens, her cheeks flushed, her eyes sparkling, a rather fascinating trace of laughter lingering in her smile. He had another fleeting sense of recognition, a déjà vu wisp of knowing, but couldn’t place it before it slipped away. “Got the party plans all worked out?”

  “We’ve been talking about Shakespeare,” Archer said. “And salmonella.”

  Adam raised his eyebrows. “Neither, I hope, are on the invitation list.”

  “Believe it or not,” Katie said, “the party hasn’t been mentioned.”

  “Except in the beginning,” Archer pointed out with the alacrity of easy friendship. “When you were explaining how you came to be wandering alone in my gardens.”

  “Oh, yes, except for then.” She smiled at him and he smiled back, as if they shared a delicious secret. Her big blue eyes shifted reluctantly, it seemed, to Adam. “Did you get the company?”

  He frowned. “Company? Oh, you mean the Wallace Company. Not yet. The deal is still cooking, but things are looking less grim than they were this morning, thanks to your suggestion.”

  “You made a suggestion?” Archer asked her, as if she’d done a very brave thing indeed. “To my grandson?”

  She shrugged. “It was just a thought.”

  Archer raised a trim white eyebrow at Adam, although his words were addressed to Katie. “And he took it?”

  Adam reined in a twinge of impatience. He didn’t mind giving Katie credit for her insight, but he didn’t think his grandfather should make it sound as if just considering her idea was some sort of once-in-alifetime honor. “Katie overheard a conversation I was having with Lara and suggested Wallace might be concerned about his employees. The idea seemed plausible to me. It’s a family business, you know. He promotes it that way. We’d made some provisions for the transition period, of course, but recompense for his employees wasn’t specifically addressed when we put together the original deal.”

  “And you’re considering compensating the employees? Isn’t that going to make the buyout prohibitively expensive?”

  “It’ll cost us less in the long run, as we hope most of the employees from middle management levels down will stay with us.”

  Archer nodded approvingly. “So this little lady saved your bacon.”

  Adam wouldn’t have put it quite like that. “She had a good thought on the matter,” he said, hearing how stiff and priggish the admission sounded. “It remains to be seen whether that will solve Wallace’s problem with the deal, although Lara believes that only a slight compromise from us will have a good effect on the deliberations.”

  “Good thinking,” Archer said, but he addressed Katie, bestowing on her a goodly share of genteel charm. “Where did you learn about company takeovers?”

  “You’ve just heard pretty much all I know on the subject.” She ran her fingers through her dark hair and Adam noted the way the curls bounced and shone in the aftermath. She wasn’t beautiful, but there was something quite striking about the ivory sheen of her skin set off by the rich, nearly black luster of her hair, and the Hawaiian-blue of her eyes. Or maybe it was the thick smudge of dark lashes that set off those eyes. Or maybe it was the bright red of her shirt. Or maybe he was just out of his head with hunger. Leaning forward, he pulled a leftover grape from its stem and popped it into his mouth. “You’re being falsely modest, Katie. You said you used to work in a brokerage house.”

  She tipped her head to the side, the furrow of a frown ed
ging onto her forehead. “It was only for about six months, just long enough to pick up the gossip around the water cooler.”

  “You have insight into what makes people tick and that kind of understanding can’t be taught in business school,” Archer said, a glimmer of interest in his eyes that hadn’t been seen there in quite a long time. “Too few people have it these days, as it is.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Braddock, but I really can’t take too much credit. I’m sure Adam and his corporate team would have secured the Wallace Company without my, very, offhand observation.”

  “Correct,” Adam said. “We certainly would have. But it’s possible your idea has speeded the process along.”

  “So what kind of reward are you giving her?” Archer wanted to know.

  Adam frowned meaningfully at his grandfather. “My thanks, possibly yours.”

  “You should take her out to dinner, Adam. To show your appreciation.”

  Adam caught the subtle What-do-you-say-to-that? arching of her brow. “A delightful idea, Grandfather, but the thing is, I don’t eat dinner.”

  Her lips curved with sudden—and surprised—pleasure at his response and something went wrong with his pulse. It raced, jumped track and filled his head with totally inappropriate thoughts. He made a show of glancing at his watch, suddenly anxious to escape before he said something he’d regret like, Why don’t we have dinner together? “I’ve got to go into town for the council meeting,” he said instead. “Please excuse me. Grandfather.” He nodded to Archer, smiled noncommittally at Katie. “Whenever you’re ready to leave—”

  “Tell Abbott to tell Benson. I remember.”

  “I thought you were returning to Providence tonight, too, Adam,” Archer said.

  “I am, but I practically kidnapped Katie today. You know how unpredictable these meetings can be and I don’t want her to waste her entire afternoon waiting on me.”

  “I don’t mind,” Katie said, shooting his escape in the foot. “I’m having a wonderful time and—” she paused, looked down, then met his gaze again “—I’d really like to talk to you before I leave.”

  “Good, she’ll wait for you.” Archer declared, settling the issue with a heavy hand. “I’ll show her around. Give her the twenty-five-cent grand tour. Tell her more than she could ever want to know about the family history. And if we run out of interesting topics of conversation, maybe we’ll talk about my birthday party.”

  “Excellent,” Adam said, because there was never any point in arguing with Archer. “Lord only knows when this meeting will end, but I’ll hurry it as best I can.” He stood, wishing he could just stay on the terrace and watch the flowers grow or perhaps, just watch Katie. “I may suggest your flag idea, Katie, and see if that speeds things along.”

  “Flag idea?” Archer asked, looking at Katie with a question.

  “It was nothing,” she said. “Just a thought that decorative, seasonal flags would look really nice hanging from those wonderful, old-fashioned streetlight poles.”

  Archer laughed aloud, a sound too often missing in the two years since Grandmother had died and one Adam was only too happy to hear again…even if it came at his expense. “Old-fashioned? Do you hear that, Adam? She thinks your newfangled streetlights are old-fashioned.” He leaned confidingly closer to Katie. “He convinced the town council to put in those lights last year. Funny thing is, they look exactly like the ones they replaced.”

  “They are, however, energy-efficient and safe, now,” Adam pointed out. “I still think I pulled off a major coup when I got that past the council.”

  “I can’t imagine anyone in town would ever argue with you,” Katie said.

  “Hard to imagine, perhaps, but true,” he replied, intrigued by the subtle flash of a dimple in her cheek.

  “The people on the council keep me humble.”

  “I’m sure they have to work very hard at it.”

  She smiled a smile that could launch a thousand ships and Adam caught his breath, deciding he needed to get going now, rather than later. “You and Katie work out the arrangements for your party, Grandfather, and I’ll be home as quickly as town attitude allows. Sooner, if a miracle occurs.”

  “Maybe it already has,” Archer said. “You know, now that I’ve met Katie and discovered how imaginative and creative she is, I’m beginning to look forward to my birthday party with great anticipation.”

  “So am I,” Adam said, realizing as he turned to walk away that it was true.

  Unsettlingly, undeniably true.

  A DOOR SLAMMED with a far-off, muffled thud and several minutes later, Katie heard quick, no-nonsense footsteps in the hallway. She looked up from the book she was reading in time to see a young man with windblown blond hair stride purposefully past the open library doors. “Hi, Ruth,” he called as he passed. A moment slipped by before he skidded back to the doorway to take another look. “Whoa, Ruth,” he said. “You’ve slimmed down since yesterday. Changed your hair color, too.”

  “Grapefruit diet,” Katie said with a grin as she tousled her new hairdo. “And a trip to the beauty salon.”

  He grinned, too. “Whatever you paid, it was worth it and then some. You look fantastic.” He came into the library where she’d been investigating a bit of Rhode Island history and extended a friendly hand. “Hello, I’m Bryce and, unless you’re in a really great disguise, you’re not our housekeeper.”

  “I’m Katie Canton,” she said, returning his handshake.

  He stepped back and regarded her with frank admiration. “You’re not by any chance the new upstairs maid, are you?”

  “Not the downstairs maid, either.” So this was Adam’s brother, Bryce. The resemblance was unmistakable. The men shared similar facial features and the same strong bone structure still visible in Archer’s wrinkled face. Only in Bryce there was less intensity, a more easygoing, what-you-see-is-what-you-get, openness than in either his grandfather or his older brother. He had blond hair, blue eyes, was perhaps slightly shorter, but overall more athletic in appearance than Adam. Where Adam seemed cool and reserved, Bryce was all warmth and devilish charm. Katie had met men like him before and knew it was best to take the flirtation they offered like a breath mint, enjoyable for short bursts of flavor, but not something one should depend on for the long haul. “I’m just here for the twenty-five-cent tour, which lasted almost an hour and a half and ended about,” she glanced at her serviceable Seiko wrist watch, “forty-five minutes ago. Your grandfather had to stop for his afternoon lie-down.”

  “Hard to believe any Braddock worth his salt would take a nap with you in the house, but Grandfather has to have his lie-downs. Can I get you a lemonade? Water? Soda? Champagne? Caviar?”

  “No, thanks. I expect Adam will be back any time and then we’ll be returning to Providence.”

  Bryce waved the information aside as if it were a pesky mosquito. “Forget Adam. I’ll take you anywhere you want to go. Fresno, Santa Fe, Amsterdam?”

  She laughed. “I’ve already been to the first two and Amsterdam is still pretty far down the list. Baton Rouge is actually next on my agenda.”

  “No, no, no,” he said, flirting all the more persistently. “You do not want to visit Louisiana in the summer. Trust me on this, Katie Canton. I would never lie to you about heat and humidity. Everything else, well, I might be tempted to stretch the truth on other topics, but weather? No, I’ll always be straight with you about that.” He smiled easily and sank into the chair opposite her, leaning forward, his attention all for her. “Are you staying for dinner?”

  “I’ve already stayed through lunch.”

  “Doesn’t matter. Dinner will be better with me here to entertain you. I was only stopping by to pick up something, but I’ll stay if you’ll stay. I’m nothing if not flexible when the situation involves a beautiful woman.”

  She imagined that was most certainly true. “I’m afraid it’s up to Adam to decide whether or not we stay for dinner, but thanks for offering to change your plans for me. It�
�s not necessary.”

  “Necessity is in the eye of the beholder,” he said. “And I will be greatly beholden to you if you’ll ditch my unimaginative big brother for me. He won’t have noticed how beautiful you are because of all those stock quotes rolling across his corneas from morning to night. I can see by the look on your face that you’ve noticed his vacant and bemused stare.”

  “Disparaging me behind my back, Bryce?” Adam asked from the doorway. “That’s unworthy of you.”

  Bryce greeted his brother with a cocky smile. “Just holding your place for you, big brother.”

  Adam walked into the library as quietly as he’d approached the doorway. If he’d been a mouse, he’d have had her cheese and gone before she’d known he was in the room. “Have you had a pleasant afternoon, Katie?” he asked. “I’m sorry the meeting lasted as long as it did, but you’ll be happy to know your flag idea has been taken under consideration and the mayor appointed a committee to research the possibilities. I don’t hold out a lot of hope, but your suggestion met with less initial opposition than the tinsel reindeer or the jingle bell wreaths, which are also being considered.”

  “Is that why you’re here and not in the office keeping our family fortunes compounding?” Bryce asked, looking rather unconvincingly offended. “Christmas decorations? And just Saturday you canceled our handball game because you were too busy to get away from the office for an hour. Admit it, Adam, you were just afraid I’d whip your ass…ets into shape on the court.” He covered nicely and treated Katie to a saintly smile. “I beat him regularly at handball.”

  “Only because I have all those stock quotes scrolling in front of my eyes all the while I’m playing,”

  Adam said, stopping behind an elegant little wooden chair and resting his arms along the curve of the back, leaning into the triangle of their conversation, looking casually intrigued and quite remarkably attractive. “And I’m here because as chairman of the town council, it is my responsibility to be at the meetings.”

  “Oh, well, if we’re talking about responsibility, I completely understand.” Bryce waved a hand dismissively. “Nothing should interfere with the high calling of responsibility.”

 

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