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Pretending with the Playboy

Page 10

by Tracey Livesay


  What did that make him? A returning wave of guilt edged out his desire. Lauren had been here, taking care of Aunt Dorothy. He had not. His aunt had needed him and he’d been in DC, building up his business ties instead of nurturing his genetic ones.

  He straightened and returned the picture to its place of honor. He would make it up to Aunt Dorothy. Her best chance for recovery was admittance to the clinical trials. He would do everything in his power to keep her calm and stress-free so the relevant protein markers in her blood would remain low.

  Two hours later, he minimized the window on the computer screen, sat back, and tapped a fist against his chin. The company was thriving and revenue was higher than projected. He’d never doubted Aunt Dorothy’s ability to run the company. Still, he was impressed with the growth and leadership RichCorp had shown during her reign.

  The phone on the desk buzzed.

  “Mr. Richardson, Mr. Morgan called an emergency meeting. Everyone is gathering in the corporate boardroom.” Donald’s voice echoed with urgency.

  An emergency board meeting? One couldn’t spontaneously call an emergency board meeting any more than one could spontaneously call a vote in Congress. There were protocols in place, procedures to be met. Carter leapt up and shrugged into the jacket he’d discarded an hour earlier. He met Donald at the door. “Was this on my aunt’s schedule? Were you given any notice?”

  The young man shook his head.

  His muscles tightened, mind and body preparing for battle. So the circling had begun. They smelled blood, saw the crimson confirmation rippling from a weakened source. Someone was making a play, trying to replace Dorothy. Was there another explanation for calling a meeting of the board, without notice to the chairwoman or her representative?

  He wouldn’t allow this to happen. Not on his watch. He pushed through the double doors, scanning then ignoring the dropped jaws and bulging eyes of the room’s five other occupants until he found his cousin. Edworth shifted in his chair and stared at him for a nanosecond before dropping his gaze to the sleek ebony table.

  A large man stood, his thick white hair gleaming under the accent lights. “This is a closed meeting.”

  Carter strode to the table. “Not from me.”

  Bill Morgan was well suited to the richly appointed furnishings, bracing an arm on the back of the chairs on either side of him, aspiring to be king of all he surveyed. For the past two decades, Bill had been in charge of the London branch of RichCorp. Dorothy’s illness must have brought him home. His face twitched into a facsimile of a smile. “Carter, it’s good of you to join us.”

  Carter dragged his gaze along his cousin’s slumped posture, before taking a seat. “Maybe they do it differently in London, but next time more notice would be appreciated.”

  “I wasn’t aware you were owed an invitation. This is RichCorp business.”

  “The chairwoman always attends board meetings and you know Aunt Dorothy isn’t available.”

  “Of course, but your cousin is qualified to speak on her behalf.”

  “Speak? Maybe. Vote? No. Not without a written proxy. But it’s a moot point. I’m here now. Why have you called this meeting?”

  Morgan adjusted the platinum frames of his spectacles. “This isn’t a formal meeting.”

  “It looks pretty formal to me. Every member of the board is here, except Aunt Dorothy.”

  “Because she’s unavailable, as you so skillfully understated. There are some issues we, as the board, need to discuss. Issues you may not be aware of since you’re not involved in the day-to-day running of the business.”

  Carter bristled at the other man’s dismissive tone. He didn’t need to be lectured like some entry-level account executive. He tilted his head back and gave the other man an arrogant smile. “I’ll have no problem keeping up.”

  “Very well.” Morgan sat down and consulted the paper in front of him. “Confidence in RichCorp has taken a dive since Dorothy’s absence. My sources tell me the business world is concerned about RichCorp’s leadership.”

  Carter wasn’t going to sit by and let Morgan plant the seeds of discontent. “Why? I just finished reviewing the financial reports. Our profits are through the roof and we’re meeting all dates certain in our contracts. We’re doing fine. We can manage.”

  “Until when?” Another board member shot a furtive glance in Carter’s direction before addressing Edworth. “When is Dorothy coming back? Is she coming back? Your family is guarding her health status like it’s the vault at the Federal Reserve.”

  “The date of her return hasn’t been determined at this moment. She’s focusing on getting better.” Carter shot a look at his cousin, who didn’t respond.

  Morgan paused, as if the air needed to be free of all other particles of sound before he could continue. “Although we’ve kept word of her illness under wraps, people have noticed her absence from the office. It’s an atmosphere ripe for speculation and faith in RichCorp is bearing the fallout.”

  Carter clenched his jaw. He didn’t need a divining rod to show him where the “speculation” originated. “What do you suggest?”

  “It’s my fiduciary duty, as a member of this board, to consider what’s best for RichCorp. I wish Dorothy a speedy recovery, but we can’t cruise along in limbo. Business will suffer for it. We need leadership now.” Morgan paused again, his audience ensnared. “I’ve been contacted by another company who is interested in merging, with an eye toward going public. I think it’s something we should seriously consider.”

  The skin at the nape of Carter’s neck tingled, the sensation swarming outward until a thin haze clouded his vision. “No!”

  “We got lucky twenty years ago when Dorothy took over for your father,” Morgan said. “We don’t have that luxury this time.”

  His heart pounded in his chest. He couldn’t let this happen. He wasn’t interested in running RichCorp, but there was no way he would allow the board to hijack the company and merge it or take it public. That was a quick way to ensure his family would lose control of a company they’d spent the better part of a century building. “This is a Richardson family company and a Richardson has run it since its inception.”

  “We’re all aware of the history. But we have to focus on the present and the future. Your cousin doesn’t want to run the company and you’ve never expressed an interest. Saving RichCorp with a merger and going public is the only way we can preserve your family’s legacy.”

  Bullshit. Every fiber of Carter’s being rebelled at the idea of anyone swooping in to take over his family’s company. What would his great-great-grandfather say? His father? Aunt Dorothy? Could he ever explain how RichCorp was stolen during his stewardship? And once Aunt Dorothy found out, was there any chance she would remain calm enough to keep her levels down so that she could enter the clinical trial? Or would it take her over the edge and possibly kill her? Edworth sat low in his chair across the table, a blank look on his face. Maybe his cousin could live with that shame, but Carter couldn’t. He wouldn’t.

  “I’ll do it.” The words tore from his throat.

  The gasps and audible inhalations coalesced into a wave of verbal disbelief that drifted about the room.

  Morgan frowned, his lips tightening to the point of invisibility. “You don’t know anything about running a business.”

  What had he just done? His head spun at the magnitude of his decision but he focused on Morgan’s words. “I didn’t think I’d need to bring my resume before this board, but it can be arranged. I have my JD and MBA, not to mention the years I’ve spent working at Pearson Enterprises. I also have a little something called the Richardson last name. RichCorp is in my blood. I grew up learning the ins and outs of this company.”

  “That’s a nice offer, but we have to be serious.” Morgan switched his attention from Carter to the room’s other occupants. “We can’t let sympathy for Dorothy and her family guide our business decisions. We took an oath. It’s our fiduciary duty to do what’s best for RichCorp
.”

  Carter could see the looks of indecision on the faces of several board members, and the possibility that they would agree with Morgan chilled him to the bone.

  Edworth leaned forward and finally contributed something to the discussion. “You’ve made some interesting points. However our governing procedures clearly state any votes that will significantly affect the company must be preceded by thirty days’ notice for the board to familiarize themselves with the issue. You’d agree that a merger qualifies as significant?”

  Morgan frowned at Edworth but Carter clutched at the lifeline and addressed the board. “Give me that time to get situated. I’ll take a thorough inventory of the company and prepare a plan that will spell out my vision for the next twelve to eighteen months. Then you’ll know that voting against this merger is the right thing to do. I’m certain I can allay fears, regain trust, and fortify confidence in our company again.”

  “You’re a young man who hasn’t lived in Chicago since you left to go to college and your reputation as a playboy is gossip fodder. Having you at the helm isn’t going to imbue RichCorp with stability,” Morgan scoffed. “Quite the opposite, in fact.”

  Carter’s spine stiffened at the insult.

  “Your intel is old and out of date, which causes me to question any proposal you bring before this board. I’m back and I plan to be here until Dorothy is ready to resume her position.” He knew what he’d promised Lauren, but… “And in case you’re worried about my commitment, you should know that Lauren Olsen and I are engaged. I’m committed to her, my family, and this company.” He rose slowly and planted his fists on the conference table’s lacquered surface. “RichCorp needs a leader? You’re looking at him.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Lauren stared at Carter through the sliding glass, taking in his loosened tie and rolled up shirtsleeves, before finally meeting his hardened chestnut gaze. There was no moon tonight, the bright orb hidden by advancing thunderstorm clouds, not uncommon for the end of July. She opened the door.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked.

  “That fucking bastard.”

  “Who?”

  Carter stared into her eyes for a long moment before his lips settled over hers with skill and purpose. She moaned and pressed against him. Would she ever tire of his kisses? On her next gasp, he slanted his head and swept his tongue in to tangle with hers. She shivered. He was so hard and strong against her. She clung to his broad shoulders, glad for their support when he finally raised his head. Breathing heavily, he leaned his forehead against hers. “I needed that.”

  She placed her hands on his face, her fingers threading through the hair at his sideburns. “What’s going on?”

  “Bill Morgan brought a merger proposal before the board.”

  “How can he do that? Dorothy wasn’t there.”

  “I wouldn’t have been, either, if Donald hadn’t alerted me.”

  He reached up, grabbed her wrists, and pressed a soft kiss to the back of her hands before releasing her and bending down to pick up his fallen suit jacket. She slid the door closed and turned to watch him toss first his jacket, then his tie onto a chair.

  Lauren’s stomach twisted into knots of anxiety and she steepled her fingers over her forehead. “Does Dorothy know about this?”

  He exhaled loudly. “Not yet.”

  This was the last thing they needed. If Dorothy knew a board member was threatening a merger for RichCorp, she wouldn’t rest until the crisis was averted. This news could literally kill her.

  “And it’s not just a merger. Morgan wants to take the company public. He’d have us sell half our shares to this new company who would turn around and sell them on the stock exchange, giving strangers a say in how our company was run.”

  With each word, Lauren’s horror grew. “Dorothy would never allow that!”

  Outside, the wind increased. Gusts blew through the greenery and slapped along the side of the house. Instinctively, she stepped away from the windows.

  “Exactly. That’s why he’s striking now.” He stood with his legs planted wide and his hands shoved into the pockets of his pants, the fabric pulled taut, outlining strong thighs and slim hips. “Growing up, RichCorp lore was drummed into me at every opportunity. It was founded as a family business. We built our success on personal responsibility and intimate connections. You can’t insure that when you have to answer to thousands of stockholders.”

  “What did the board decide?” she asked.

  “Nothing right now. Morgan didn’t give the board enough notice to vote. Probably figured he could bully it through and no one would challenge him. I have thirty days to convince the board that a merger isn’t necessary. That I have the vision needed to overcome any worry about lack of direction with the company.”

  “You’re going to run RichCorp?”

  “Temporarily, until Aunt Dorothy comes back. At least, that’s what I told the board. I don’t know what I was fucking thinking.” He grimaced and shook his head. “This is the last thing I wanted.”

  “Then why fight it? What if Dr. Tye says she’ll have to avoid stress forever? Or, despite what we’re all hoping, Dorothy never fully recovers? She may never be able to take her old job back. If you’re not going to stay around to run RichCorp, maybe a merger would be better.”

  Carter curled his fingers. “When Morgan mentioned it, everything inside of me resisted. I can’t allow this company to be turned over to strangers. Depending on the financing, we can lose control to stockholders or venture capitalists. If I were buying into a company, the first thing I would do is put one of my people in charge. And you can be damned sure that person wouldn’t be a Richardson. I don’t know how I’ll prevent it, but I will find a way.”

  She shivered. This wasn’t the easygoing, flirtatious Carter. This was the Carter who used to push himself on the tennis court all those years ago. A Carter ready for battle, who would stop at nothing to get what he wanted. His raw determination was appealing, compelling…and unquestionably sexy.

  So inappropriate, Lauren.

  She grabbed a mug off the table and headed toward the kitchen. “This is a big step. You need to think about the consequences.”

  He followed her. “I tell you Morgan wants to steal my family’s company, a company we’ve built over generations, and you want me to stop and ‘think about the consequences’ of trying to save it?”

  “Yes! This is serious. Your decision will affect thousands of lives. You can’t coast through this with a devilish wink and a charming grin. If you’re not ready to run this company, or hand the reins to Edworth, then don’t fight the merger. Don’t do something you won’t be able to take back.”

  “Too late,” he said, with a wincing version of that grin.

  A current of perception skimmed over her. She knew she wouldn’t like what he said next. She narrowed her eyes. “You said they vote in thirty days.”

  “They do, but to show the board I’m committed to RichCorp, I told them about our engagement.”

  Shock stole her breath like the winter wind off Lake Michigan. “You did what?”

  “I couldn’t let Morgan get a head start on convincing the other shareholders to vote his way and push the merger through. I needed them to know I was serious.”

  Heat rushed into her cheeks. So much for avoiding the pitying looks. Now when their engagement ended, her embarrassment would be company-wide, spanning cities, countries, continents. Great.

  She pushed past him. “How could you do that without consulting me first?”

  “I did it for Aunt Dorothy. How do you think she’d deal with the stress that would come from learning about RichCorp’s merger?”

  She ignored him, needing to put space between them. He had a point about Dorothy, but it was slow-going moving past the anger. Before ascending her staircase, she turned to face him. “For once, I wish you would consider the effect of your actions. You can’t just do what you want to do and to hell with other people.”

 
Like he’d done at the pool party all those years ago. He should have shared his concerns about her expectations with her, instead of leaving her with years of false perceptions.

  “I didn’t do it to hurt you.” Emotion resonated in his voice and it took her a moment to understand he was talking about now, not ten years ago. “Life isn’t tidy and orderly, Lauren. It’s not a to-do list. Sometimes plans change. Sometimes you have to go with the moment.”

  She snorted and crossed her arms. “That’s a slogan for a T-shirt, not a life philosophy. You’re an adult, with obligations and responsibilities.”

  “You think I don’t know that? There were three things I didn’t want to do: come back to Chicago, get married, and work at RichCorp. Now I’m doing all three. So don’t preach to me about obligations and responsibilities.”

  “You’re doing what you’re supposed to do, what your family needs you to do. Is that cause for a celebration? What do you want, a cookie?”

  His eyes tightened and his expression turned to ice. “I’m glad you asked me that. I’ve been doing things I didn’t want, how about I take something I do.”

  In two strides, he closed the distance between them and gripped her upper arms. She had a split second to gauge his intention before his lips landed on hers.

  She could have stopped him. This close she could see the fan of lashes against his cheekbones and the shadowed hair that started just beneath his sideburns and bristled against her face. His hold on her was sure, but it wasn’t painful. She could have broken it with a well-aimed knee and pushed him away. But she didn’t. She let her eyes flutter shut and gave herself up to his kiss.

  His tongue swept inside and tangled with hers. Throbbing heat pooled low in her belly and she slid her hands along the fabric of his shirt, the material cool to her touch. She dragged her nails down his spine, before retracing her path and tangling her fingers in the hair at his nape. He was so masculine. In his arms she felt feminine, sexy, and a touch out of control.

 

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