A half-year later, her father had taken her back to Long Island. He hadn’t said why they were going, he had just told her they were going, in the same unsmiling way he’d spoken to her ever since the accident.
When they reached the riding club, Cassandra began to cry. “What’s wrong?” her father asked.
“I don’t want to be here.”
“You have to be here, Cassie; it’s important.”
“Why?” she’d asked, trying to hold back the tears.
“You were hurt very badly, and if you don’t get on a horse again, you may never ride again. You’re going to ride today,” he told her.
“M-M-M-Magik?”
“Not Magik. Cassie, I promise you that Magik will never hurt you again. I had him destroyed.”
Cassandra had stared at him, her eyes wide with horror. “You...” Cassandra hadn’t been able to say anything more. Frozen, she’d just stared at him. Then she’d smelled the horses. The scent was overpowering; she began to shake.
At the stable, Gregory Leeds had made Cassandra follow him and stand next to him as they saddled two horses. Cassandra’s shaking wouldn’t stop.
When the horses were ready, her father had bent to lift her into the saddle. It was then that Cassandra had screamed and run away.
“Come back here!” Gregory Leeds had shouted.
Cassandra had kept on running.
I’ve been running ever since, she told herself. I’ve been running away from fear and from life.
“No more,” she whispered. Cassandra knew she couldn’t run away anymore. She wanted to be able to live her own life and be happy again. The last time she‘d been happy was when she was nine. Eighteen years was too long.
, Cassandra saw, for the past eighteen years, she had done everything in her power to hide from reality. She had roamed the world as a spoiled child, who had grown into a spoiled woman. She had never once tried to do something worthwhile. In Greece, she had come to a small understanding of why she had been doing some of those things—she’d wanted to make her father angry enough to show her he cared.
He hadn’t. All he wanted from her was another corporate merger. Cassandra drew in a shuddering breath. Her father was trying to bend her to his will; and he was using the one thing she feared most in life to accomplish his own desires. Standing, Cassandra fanned the embers of anger within her mind. Not this time, Father, she promised.
In that harsh moment of deep self-examination, Cassandra began to repair the walls of her defenses so no one would ever know how vulnerable she was. Cassandra made up her mind to take on the job her father had offered.
No one, she vowed, would see her fear. No one would get past the protective walls she’d erected around herself.
Chapter Three
Stretching long legs before him, Kirk North relieved the dull cramps of the five-hour flight. He was thankful the Leeds Corporation did not stint on expenses for their employees and he was flying first-class rather than packed like a sardine in coach.
Far below the 747’s window, Kirk saw the lush green hills of the Northeast. He also knew, by the time of the flight as well as his own knowledge of the country that they were over New Jersey.
“Last call Mr. North; we’ll be landing in a half-hour. Can I get you another cup of coffee, or anything at all?” asked a doe-eyed stewardess who smiled with an open invitation.
Kirk shook his head. “Thank you, anyway.”
The woman seemed disappointed but took it in stride as she went to the seat behind him and asked the woman seated there if she wanted another drink. Even as she spoke, her voice filtered out of Kirk’s consciousness while his own troubled thoughts took over again.
Two days before, he’d received a call from the comptroller of Leeds, requesting his presence in New York. The boss wanted to see him, and he was certain of the reason. The books, closed four days before on Twin Rivers’ fiscal year, showed it had not been a good one.
For the second year in a row, the ranch had shown a loss, not a profit. Kirk thought about the reasons for the loss. While he had done everything in his power to make the ranch reach into the black this year, low market prices defeated profits. The high cost of supplemental feeding; and, the harsh rampaging disease striking the Appaloosa herd, cutting the number of available head, and therefore ending the chance to make money on the horses this year. The worst loss had been the death of the primary Appaloosa stallion that had sired so many of Twin Rivers’ foals. The disease had killed him, and had set back the horse-breeding operation until they found a new stud.
Of course, none of those reasons mattered. It was his responsibility to make Twin Rivers profitable, just as it was his responsibility to accept the blame if it failed.
Kirk looked at his watch. It was nine o’clock. He planned on registering at the hotel before a general meeting at eleven thirty, then he would have lunch with Murray Charter, after which he would have his meeting with Gregory Leeds at two thirty.
Kirk expected termination and had prepared for just that. The only question nagging at his thoughts was why they had asked him to come to New York instead of firing him by official letter.
I'll find out soon enough, he told himself. Then he chased away his troubled thoughts, rested his head on the seatback, and thought about the new stud he would be signing the papers for in Wyoming—the horse he hoped would be able to replenish the Twin Rivers’ livestock for many years to come, if, he realized, he was still general manager when he left New York.
~~~~
“I’m sorry, Somner, but I have an important appointment at three thirty. Perhaps another day,” Cassandra said with the hope of stalling Somner until she was gone so she would not have to continue explaining her actions to him.
“Please, Cassie, we need to speak. I’ve already made a reservation at Le Blanc for twelve thirty,” Somner Barwell stated.
“I’m really pushed for time—”
“I’ve been patient for over three months, Cassie. I haven’t pressed you; I haven’t chased after you. The least you could do is see me and tell me what’s going on.”
Cassandra knew he was right. She could not just up and leave again without telling him the real reason. Why didn’t you chase me? Why didn’t you put up a fight? Why did you accept what I did so easily? she asked silently. But she knew him well enough to answer the question herself. Somner Barwell had no need to chase or fight for her; he expected her to be his.
“All right, Somner, I’ll be there at twelve thirty.” With that, she hung up the phone gently and looked at her watch. It was eleven.
She knew that she had been wrong in avoiding Somner Barwell’s phone calls, and this morning, before she’d left home, he’d called again. She had pleaded an appointment, without saying what it was but had promised to call him later in the morning. Now that she had, she felt a little better.
Sighing, Cassandra banished the thoughts of Somner and, as she had been doing every day for the last week, turned back to the papers covering her desk. Immersed so deeply in learning how to use the computer and reviewing the figures and reports of her new corporation, the past week had flown by as quickly as a jet plane. She had learned much about the ranch but understood there was still a lot more to take in.
The Twin Rivers Ranch was a large operation, employing over seventy people. A man named Kirk North, a cowboy, Cassandra thought tersely, was managing the ranch itself. According to everything she’d studied, North had been doing a good job, just not good enough to make a profit. She hoped she would be able to change that.
“I have to change that!” she stated aloud to the silent office. “I have to,” she whispered.
The fiscal year of the Twin Rivers Corporation had ended four days before, and Murray Charter, the comptroller of Leeds International, had sent the rough audit figures over this morning. She had been going over the figures all morning, comparing them to the audit statements of the last four years, in an effort to find a weak spot she could pinpoint as the object of her f
irst change.
Forty-five minutes later, she glanced at her watch and realized she had to get going or she’d be late for lunch. Sighing, Cassandra stood and straightened her clothing. She felt a slight edge of nervousness and knew that today’s lunch would not be easy, but it was something that had to happen.
Cassandra decided she owed Somner the truth. She must tell him why she could not marry him.
I can do it, she told herself firmly as she started to the ladies’ room to freshen up for her confrontation with Somner.
~~~~
“What I don’t understand, Mr. Charter, is why the Leeds Corporation is so complacent about the loss,” Kirk ventured after Murray Charter finished his statements.
Nothing made sense to Kirk. From the moment he’d entered Charter’s office, his treatment was that of a visiting executive, not a man on the chopping block. Within twenty minutes of sitting down, the comptroller had complimented him on his performance as the GM three separate times.
“Because we had projected this loss when we took over the ranch two years ago. Everything is going according to our projections,” replied the slim well-dressed comptroller in an even voice.
Kirk, no stranger to business projections and machinations, could not accept that glossy answer. “Even the horses?”
“Not exactly, but yes. You see, Kirk, when we set up our projections, we took into account a number of things that might happen. Although we did not specifically earmark a problem with the horse stock, it isn’t enough to cause concern. In two years, the horse sales will be back on target.”
Kirk studied the smooth-talking man for several silent seconds before responding. When he did, it was quick and dry. “Then why am I here, if I’m not being fired?”
Murray Charter laughed, but Kirk saw that the smile didn’t reach the man’s eyes. A strange chill of warning settled in the nape of his neck as he waited for the man to speak.
“That’s something else. Kirk, before we go there, I want to reiterate that we at Leeds feel you are doing an excellent job.”
“But?”
“No buts; It is simply a fact,” the comptroller stated. Yet, with his next words, Kirk heard a subtle change in Charter’s voice. “However, when you return to Arizona, you will be bringing someone with you. Our new vice president of the Twin Rivers Corporation.”
Kirk held himself in check for a moment, refusing to let the effect of the announcement show on his face. He realized he’d been very fortunate in the last two years in not having a corporation man breathing down his neck. Apparently, his luck had just run out. When he was sure of himself, he nodded his head slowly. “I can live with that,” he said stoically. “Who will it be?”
Murray Charter said nothing for a moment, and Kirk could not read his expression. “Mr. Leeds wants to personally fill you in on those details,” the comptroller stated. “And now,” he added as he looked at his watch, “I think we should grab some lunch.”
Before either Charter or Kirk could stand, the comptroller’s intercom buzzed. Kirk tried to relax as the man picked up the phone.
“All right. Ten minutes!” Charter said. When he hung up the phone, he looked at Kirk with apology written across his features. “Kirk, I’m afraid I’ll have to cancel. There seems to be an emergency at our German subsidiary. I’ll be tied up for quite a while.”
“No problem,” Kirk said as he stood and extended his hand.
Charter shook his hand firmly. “But I did remember that Le Blanc was a favorite of yours. There’s a table reserved for you for twelve fifteen.”
“Thank you, Mr. Charter. I’ll see you later,” Kirk said as he withdrew his hand and started to leave the office, not the least upset at losing his lunch mate. Right now, he wanted to be alone to think about what Charter had told him.
After leaving the comptroller’s office and taking the elevator to the lobby, Kirk then walked the three blocks to the restaurant. Le Blanc was indeed Kirk’s favorite restaurant in New York. Whenever he was here, he made it a point to dine there.
Entering the comfortably lit restaurant, Kirk saw lunch was in full swing. He gave the maître d’ his name and a moment later was being escorted to his table.
“Monsieur Charter will be joining you shortly?” the man asked.
“He won’t be able to make it,” Kirk replied.
“Ah...a shame; he misses a wonderful meal. Bon appetite, Monsieur North,” the maître d’ said with a practiced gesture while at the same time presenting Kirk with the menu.
A moment later, a white-jacketed waiter appeared with a serving tray. “Would you prefer white or red?” he asked.
“White,” Kirk replied and watched the man pour the wine into the glass. When the waiter was gone, Kirk took a sip of the dry white wine and opened the menu.
After perusing it carefully, Kirk settled on stuffed Dover sole. As soon as he put the menu down, the waiter reappeared and took his order.
Then Kirk let his thoughts roam. He tried to work out the strange puzzle the Leeds Corporation kept putting in front of him; he sensed something wasn’t right, but just what that was, he had been unable to discern.
Although he didn’t relish the idea of having a company man looking over his shoulder, Kirk could not complain. It was not a good time for people in ranching, and he still had his job, a job he loved.
His train of thought was interrupted and his eyes drawn to a tall woman walking past his table. He knew he was staring at her but could not stop himself.
Her long, almost jet-black hair fell to the middle of her back, complementing the ivory business suit she wore. She was tall, at least five-eight. Kirk appreciated her height and the way she did not try to hide it. The business suit fit her as if tailored just for her body, revealing a full, ripe figure even as it contained it with conservative lines.
The linen material of the skirt and the gentle movement of her hair accented the even sway of her hips. However, it wasn’t until she reached her table, just down the aisle from his, that Kirk’s breath seemed to catch in his throat. Because it was only then he saw her face.
Her eyes were large, wide-set, and magnificent. Even at a distance of ten feet, he could see sparks of emerald green blazing from within hazel depths. Her face, too, was an almost classic type of beauty: Her perfectly formed cheekbones were not overly prominent, her chin rounded without a dimple or mark. Her nose was straight and aquiline, and her mouth was like the double set of a hunting bow. A long and slender neck disappeared within the beige collar of her blouse. At the base of her throat was a single gold chain.
Although he’d never seen her before, Kirk knew with his one long glance, the woman who was sitting down not far from him, was a very special person.
The man she's with is a very lucky man, he said to himself.
Breaking the magnetic attraction of the woman, Kirk made himself think about his meeting with Murray Charter and of the vagaries of fate. After all, he reasoned, he should not be enjoying a costly lunch at the expense of the company employing him; rather, he should have been wondering about where he would find his next job.
A moment later, the waiter brought his food and, with the requisite flourishes, served Kirk elegantly.
~~~~
Cassandra entered Le Blanc with her usual air of confidence, smiling and nodding her head to those who acknowledged her arrival even as she looked around for Somner. Spotting him, she strode directly to his table, uncaring of the many eyes that marked her progress. She had learned long ago, males of all ages—whether alone or with a companion, watched any good-looking woman.
None of that bothered Cassandra while she walked to Somner’s table. But, when she turned at her chair, she found herself the focus of a handsome man sitting two tables away—a man with the most intriguing eyes she’d ever seen.
Forcefully she broke the unexpectedly powerful gaze and smiled at Somner. “And not a minute late.”
“For which I will be eternally grateful,” Somner said with his own dashing sm
ile.
He stood and started around the table, but Cassandra held up her hand and seated herself. A half-minute later, the waiter appeared to pour their wine.
“I’ve already ordered,” Somner said, “You did say our time was limited.”
“Of course.”
“Veal Francese. I know how much you like it.”
“Thank you,” Cassandra said, trying to keep the irritation out of her voice. Somner always ordered for them—always.
“Cassie,” Somner began, but Cassandra lifted her glass and held it aloft.
“A toast.”
“In honor of?” he asked.
“My new job.”
Somner’s smile flattened. “Job? Why?”
“Because I needed it.”
“You needed a job…what about me?”
Cassandra couldn’t help the smile caused by his startled reaction. “You don’t need a job; you have one.”
“That’s not what I mean. I need you also.”
“Me, or what I represent?” Cassandra asked. There was no malice in her tone, and she’d asked the question honestly.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Somner asked in a coarse voice, his lips thinning until they became little more than a narrow line.
With the perfect timing of the insensitive, the waiter appeared with their lunch. They stayed silent while the waiter, with delicate maneuvers, placed the plates before Cassandra and Somner, after which he held a long wooden pepper mill aloft and looked at Cassandra.
“No, thank you,” she said pleasantly. Somner waved him brusquely away.
Cassandra refused to look at Somner for a moment as she picked up her silverware and cut a small piece of veal. She had told herself before entering the restaurant, she would be open and honest with him. She did not want to be catty, but she had to make him understand what she needed for herself.
“Are you ready to answer me?” Somner asked.
“Can’t we enjoy our lunch first?”
“Which means if we talk now, we won’t be able to eat?”
Silken Threads Page 3