“We have a verbal agreement with employees regarding overtime.”
Amanda raised her eyebrows and paused, making her disbelief known without saying a word. “A verbal agreement?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Amanda returned to the table and switched papers. “Are you aware, Mr. Radaski, that Westlake Construction has been breaking labor laws for over ten years?”
“What does that have to do with—”
“I object,” called the prosecuting lawyer.
“On what grounds?” asked the judge.
“The witness is not in a position—”
“The witness is the office manager responsible for payroll,” Amanda pointed out.
“Overruled,” said the judge, and Daniel couldn’t help a small smile of pride.
Amanda flipped through her notes.
Daniel was pretty sure it was all for show. The set of her shoulders told him she wasn’t refreshing her memory. She knew exactly where she was going.
She looked up again. “Are you further aware, Mr. Radaski, that Westlake Construction owes my client four thousand, two hundred and eighty-six dollars in back overtime and holiday pay?”
“We had a verbal agreement,” the witness sputtered.
“A verbal agreement of that nature has no force under New York labor law. Mr. Radaski, according to the accounting firm of Smith and Stafford, Westlake Construction owes current and former employees a total of one hundred and seventy-one thousand, six hundred and sixty-one dollars in back pay.”
Radaski blinked at Amanda.
“Your Honor,” she said, lifting a thick sheaf of papers from the table. “I would like to enter this actuarial report as exhibit D. My client wishes, at this time, to launch a countercomplaint against Westlake Construction for a settlement in the amount of one thousand, two hundred and eighty-six dollars, being the balance owed to her for unpaid overtime and holidays.”
“But she stole three thousand dollars,” shouted Jack Burnside from the galley.
The judge pounded his gavel.
Amanda’s lips quirked in a small smile. “I’ll be contacting current and former employees to ascertain their interest in a class action lawsuit.”
The judge gazed at the prosecuting lawyer.
“I’d like to request a recess to confer with my client.”
“I guess you would,” said the judge. He brought the gavel down once again. “This case is adjourned until three o’clock Thursday afternoon.”
Daniel quickly slipped out the door of the courtroom.
Okay, he could see the appeal. But surely those Perry Mason moments were few and far between.
Still, she was good.
Amanda stared at the small cardboard card that had accompanied a bouquet of twenty-four red roses.
Congratulations!
Puzzled, she flipped it over.
Saw you in court today. If I ever take up bank robbing, you’ll be the first person I call.
—D
Daniel.
“Mr. Delectable?” asked Julie, breezing through the door with a stack of files.
“They’re from Daniel,” Amanda confirmed.
Julie leaned over to smell the roses. “This time you definitely have to do him on the desktop.”
Amanda smiled at Julie’s irreverence. “Daniel’s not that kind of guy.”
Julie toyed with the looped chain of her black choker. “It’s a proven fact, sending red roses to an office means a guy wants to do it on the desktop.”
“Where do you get these facts?”
“Didn’t you read last month’s Cosmo?”
Amanda cleared a space on the credenza for the flowers. “Afraid I missed it.”
“I’ll get you my copy.”
Amanda set down the vase. “What do yellow roses mean?”
“Huh?”
“If a guy sends yellow roses to an office, what does that mean?”
Julie grinned. “Yellow means they want to do it on the desktop. Come to think of it, breathing means they want to do it on the desktop.”
“Not Daniel.” Amanda couldn’t imagine any possible circumstances under which Daniel would make love on a desktop. It would be sacrilegious.
“Try him,” Julie advised with a waggle of her dark eyebrows. “You’ll be surprised.”
“Daniel’s not a surprise kind of guy.”
“Were you expecting the roses?”
Amanda paused. “Nope. I have to admit, those were a surprise.”
“There you go,” said Julie.
“He’s my ex.” Amanda wasn’t doing Daniel on the desktop or anywhere else. Bad enough that she’d kissed him.
“But he’s hot.”
He was hot all right. And he was still a fabulous kisser. And, unless she’d lost her mind, he’d responded to her kiss.
Which meant he was interested, too. Which meant they were both in big trouble.
“Amanda?”
Amanda blinked. “Hmm?”
Julie grinned. “You think he’s hot, too.”
“I think I’m late for a meeting.”
A visit with Karen wasn’t exactly a meeting, but as soon as Amanda walked out onto the veranda at The Tides, she was glad she’d come.
Karen was sitting on a deck chair with albums and photographs scattered around her.
“There you are,” said Karen, pulling a brochure out of the mess. “I couldn’t decide between a pedicure and reflexology.”
“What are you doing?”
“I got us into Eduardo’s for the twenty-fifth, but we should book our appointments early. You want a facial?”
“Sure,” said Amanda, sitting in one of the other chairs. Now that she’d decided to do the spa weekend, she was getting a little excited about it.
Karen gestured to a pitcher of iced tea on a side table. “Thirsty?”
Amanda stood up again. “I’d love some. You want a refill?”
“Please.” Karen put down the brochure and sat back in the padded chair. “Tell me about the world.”
“The entire world?”
“Your world.”
Amanda filled Karen’s tall glass. “I won a case this morning.”
“Congratulations.”
“It’s not exactly official yet. The judge will rule on Thursday, but I threatened Westlake Construction with a class action suit. They’ll cave.”
“Was that the Mary something embezzlement trial?”
Amanda nodded. “Sweet woman. Single mom, three kids. Nobody’s served by her going to jail for six months.”
“But she stole some money, right?”
Amanda sat down again. “She provided herself with an advance on holiday pay owed.”
Karen grinned. “Will you be my lawyer?”
“You don’t need a lawyer.”
“I might. I’m bored. I’m thinking of taking up bank robbing.”
“You been talking to Daniel?”
Karen’s eyes sparkled. “No, have you?”
Amanda instantly regretted the impulsive joke. But backing off would only make Karen press harder.
“He sent me flowers,” Amanda admitted. “He mentioned bank robbing, too. Is there something about the Elliott fortune you’re not telling me?”
“What kind of flowers?”
“Roses.”
“Red?”
“Yes.”
“Holy cow.”
“It’s not what you think.” Not that Amanda had any clue as to what she was supposed to think.
“How can it not be what I think?” asked Karen. “A dozen?”
Amanda hesitated. “Two.”
“Two dozen red roses.”
“They were congratulatory.”
“Congratulatory for what?” Her eyes went wide. “What did you two do?”
Amanda quickly waved off the question. “It’s nothing like that. He came to watch me in court. I won the case. He sent flowers.”
Karen straightened one of the albums in front of her
. “Daniel watched you in court?”
Amanda nodded.
“What for?”
“Beats me.” She took a sip of the iced tea. “And, I tell you, he’s making me nervous again. After the Taylor Hopkins thing, he said he was going to back off.”
“What Taylor Hopkins thing?”
“Daniel invited Taylor to dinner, and Taylor gave me an indoctrination into the cult of the almighty dollar.”
“Well, Taylor’s definitely the guy to do it,” said Karen. “Have you seen his new house?”
“Nope.”
Karen sat forward and flipped a couple of pages in one of the albums. “Here it is.”
Amanda stood up, coming around beside Karen. “Nice.”
“It’s on the shore. Fantastic tennis courts.”
It was a nice house. But Amanda had never been overly impressed with expensive real estate. She glanced at the pictures of the extended Elliott Family. “What a wonderful picture of Scarlet and Summer.”
“That was taken last year. Somehow we all ended up at Martha’s Vineyard. Bridget went wild with the camera.”
“Who’s that with Gannon?”
“His date. I can’t even remember her name. It was between rounds with Erika.”
The mention of Erika reminded Karen of Gannon’s recent wedding. “You have wedding pictures?”
“I sure do.” Karen switched albums, opening to a formal shot of the bride and groom.
“Gorgeous dress,” Amanda commented.
“She’s a wonderful woman,” said Karen. “So good for Gannon.”
On the next page was a family shot. Amanda’s gaze stopped on Daniel. He looked magnificent in a tux.
Then she saw the woman standing next to him.
“Oops,” said Karen. “Sharon showed up. Nobody quite knew what to do about that.”
Amanda squinted at her ex’s ex. Sharon was petite and thin, with sculpted blond hair an expensive shade of platinum.
She looked younger than forty. Her makeup was perfect, and her dress fairly dripped with silver sequins. The spray of flowers in her hair made her a competitor for the bride.
“I’m nothing like her, am I?” asked Amanda, suddenly overtaken by a wave of inadequacy.
“You’re nothing like her,” said Karen. “Thank goodness.”
“But she’s what Daniel wants.”
Karen turned to gaze at Amanda. “You do know he divorced her.”
“But he married her.”
“He loved you.”
Amanda shook her head. “I was pregnant.”
Karen squeezed Amanda’s arm. “You are a kind, compassionate, intelligent, loving—”
“And she’s thin and beautiful, with a flair for designer clothes and multilingual small talk.”
“She’s cruel and brittle.”
“But she looks great in an evening gown.” There was no disputing that.
“So do you.”
Amanda smiled. “You haven’t seen me in an evening gown for more than a decade. Heck, I haven’t seen myself in an evening gown for years.”
“Maybe it’s about time you did.”
“I wear underwires,” Amanda confessed in a whisper.
Karen chuckled. “Well, at least I don’t need those anymore.”
Amanda froze in horror.
But Karen shook her head. “Thank you so much. That was my first breast joke.”
Amanda cringed. “But I—”
“Don’t you dare apologize. You don’t care about perfection. You blithely brought up breasts because you’ve forgotten all about my surgery.”
It was true. When Amanda thought about Karen she didn’t think of a double mastectomy; all she thought about was her true and wonderful friend.
“That’s why I love you so dearly,” said Karen, squeezing Amanda’s arm. “Physical imperfections mean nothing to you.”
Amanda glanced back down at Sharon. “They obviously mean something to Daniel.” That was why he’d complained about Amanda’s clothes and hair.
“I don’t think that’s true.”
“We both agree that Sharon has nothing going for her except her appearance.”
“Yeah,” said Karen slowly.
“Then that’s what attracted Daniel.” Amanda glanced involuntarily at her plain navy pants and her white blouse.
“Do you care what he thinks?” asked Karen.
Good question. Amanda shouldn’t care. She didn’t want to be attractive to Daniel. She only wanted Daniel out of her life.
Still, the kiss, the flowers, her memories…Something was happening here. And she didn’t know how to fight it.
“Dad?” Cullen bumped Daniel under the boardroom table and slipped him a sheet of paper.
Daniel snapped himself back to reality and focused on the expectant faces of the senior management team of Elliott Publication Holdings. He’d been wondering if Amanda liked the roses.
Stalling, he glanced down at the paper from Cullen.
Say: Cullen has those figures,
it read.
Daniel looked up, leaning back slightly in his chair. “Cullen has those figures.”
Attention immediately swung to Cullen.
“The Spanish and German numbers look promising,” said Cullen. “French is marginal, and translation costs for Japan make it a nonstarter.”
Ah, the translation offices. Daniel knew what they were talking about now.
Daniel’s brother Michael nodded. “We found pretty much the same results for Pulse. I’d want to talk about French, giving low shipping costs to Quebec and some domestic potential. But Japan will definitely give us diminishing returns.”
Daniel’s sister, Finola, spoke up. “Charisma is ready for any market.”
“That’s because you’re image focused,” said Michael. “You could probably sell without doing any translation at all.”
“Still,” said Finola, “it’s part of the mix.”
“What about you, Shane?” asked Michael.
Attention moved to Finola’s twin brother, and Daniel knew everyone was wondering if Shane would take the perspective of his magazine or back up his twin.
“The Buzz could go either way,” he said.
“Why don’t we shelve the Japan discussion for today?” Cullen suggested.
“How does that help?” asked Cade McMann, the executive editor of Charisma. “Nothing’s going to change.”
“What if we prototype two translation offices,” Cullen suggested. “Spanish and German. We’re unlikely to lose on either of them, and it might answer some of the outstanding questions.”
The room went silent as everybody considered the idea.
Cullen gave a small smile. “I don’t think anyone wants to incur unnecessary losses this year, do they?”
There were nods all around on that.
“I can run it by Dad,” Michael offered.
“Works for me,” said Daniel, proud of his son’s straightforward compromise.
“Then it’s done,” said Shane, smacking his hand on the table. “Can we adjourn? I’ve got a lunch meeting.”
Everyone began gathering their papers and rising from their chairs.
Daniel pictured Amanda’s smile one more time. He hoped she liked the roses. Maybe he’d call and ask—just to make sure they’d arrived.
“So much for the international advantage,” said Cade as he and Finola paused behind Daniel’s chair.
“I knew they’d vote Japan down anyway,” Finola answered.
“Did you give any more thought to my concerns about Jessie Clayton?” asked Cade.
“My intern?”
“Yeah.”
“I don’t have an opinion. I’ve barely seen her. You know, it’s almost like she’s avoiding me.”
“But why?” asked Cade.
“Who knows.” Finola laughed. “Maybe I’m scary.”
“I don’t trust her.”
“Then do some digging.”
“Maybe I will.” Cade’s
voice trailed off as they moved toward the exit.
“Got a minute, Dad?” asked Cullen as Daniel started to rise.
Daniel sat back down. “Sure.”
The boardroom door closed on the rest of the management team, and they were alone.
Cullen pivoted his chair and leaned back, rolling a gold pen between his fingertips. “Okay, what’s going on?”
“What do you mean?”
Cullen scoffed and shook his head. “I mean, I had to save your ass three times in that meeting. What’s got you so distracted?”
“You didn’t—”
Cullen tapped his finger on the note he’d passed Daniel.
“I was a little distracted.”
“A little?”
“I was just wondering—”
“About Mom.”
“About business.”
“Yeah, yeah. It was the potential French market that put that twinkle in your eyes.”
“I didn’t have a twinkle.”
Cullen set down his pen, suddenly looking every inch the senior executive. “What are you doing, Dad?”
Daniel searched his son’s expression. “About what?”
“You went to her court case yesterday.”
“So? I’m trying to get her to change professions. You know that.”
Cullen shook his head, giving Daniel a sly smile. “Dad, Dad, Dad.”
Daniel raised his eyebrows. “What, what, what?”
“Admit it.”
“Admit what?”
“You’ve got the hots for Mom.”
Daniel nearly choked. “What?”
“This isn’t about her job.”
Daniel didn’t answer. He rocked back in his chair and stared incredulously at his son.
Cullen didn’t know about the kiss. He couldn’t know about the kiss. Even the Elliott grapevine wasn’t that efficient.
Cullen straightened in his chair. “Dad, I talked—”
“To whom?”
“To Bryan. We both think it’s a good idea.”
“You think what’s a good idea?” Him kissing Amanda, Amanda kissing him?
“You and Mom getting back together.”
Daniel held up his hands. “Whoa.”
“You might have a hard time convincing her—”
“Your confidence in me is inspiring.”
“But we think it’ll be worth it.”
“Oh, you do, do you?”
Dynasties:The Elliots, Books 7-12 Page 22