by Rose, Carol
*
Colt slammed the door as he started the Suburban. Damn, damn, damn. It was just his luck to have a major financial crisis when the bankers in Southern California had decided to minimize their risks.
Things would loosen up, Jacobs had assured him. In six to nine months, they might be able to help him.
Only Granger Construction needed the money now, and this was the sixth bank to turn him down.
He drove out of the parking lot, trying not to think of how he was going to tell Hayley that he hadn't gotten the loan for the business.
Damn it, he had to find a way to make it work. He couldn't let her down now, not after all the work they'd put in to the restoration.
Hell, he should have known better than to extend his resources this far. In addition to the Victorian Oaks contract, he had three other projects underway. While that should have meant money coming in, the largest of those contracts had been with a company which just filed for bankruptcy. He might see his money at some point, but not in the near future.
The killer was that he'd bought some equipment for that job, machinery that he'd thought would pay off. Now the notes on the equipment hung around his neck like an anvil.
He reminded himself that he'd weathered money crises before. This one couldn't be any worse.
Colt pulled up in front of the office and got out. The hazy California sunshine seemed as tentative as he felt. Swinging back the glass door, he crossed the office to Jill's desk where she was talking on the phone.
"I don't know for sure when he'll be-- Oh, wait a minute, Mr. Haslett. Here he is now." Jill held out the receiver, her shrug disclaiming any knowledge of why Hayley's father would be calling Colt again.
"Mr. Haslett?"
"Afternoon, Colt. Did you get the delivery from the courier?" Henry Haslett sounded as energetic as a man half his age.
"Delivery from a courier?" Colt lifted his brows in question as he looked at Jill. She immediately pounced on a heavy legal envelope and thrust it into his hands. "Yes, sir. There is something here, but I haven't had a chance to look at it."
"Fine, fine. No problem." Haslett sounded pleased with himself. "Think the proposition over, Colt. Even solid businessmen get into a bind now and then."
"I beg your pardon? I don't understand," said Colt slowly.
Henry laughed. "You will. Just look that contract over carefully."
"But, sir-"
"Listen, son. You've done a damn good job of running that place all by yourself since your father died. He'd be pleased to see how you've expanded it. But everyone needs a helping hand once in a while. Don't be too proud to see that."
"Mr. Haslett-"
"I've got to run. Got a bunch of people here waiting. Don't give me your answer too quickly. I know you're the independent type and I respect that. Just think it over and give Hayley a kiss from me." The line went dead.
Colt hung up the phone, feeling like he'd been thrown into a mine field.
"What was that all about?" Jill sat back in her chair.
"I don't know for sure, but Haslett seems to have gotten wind of our little financial crisis." Colt looked down at the manila envelope in his hands.
"Little crisis?" Jill snorted. "I've never heard being on the verge of bankruptcy referred to that way."
"We're not filing for bankruptcy," he said abruptly, as he went into his office.
Colt sank into his desk chair, still holding the envelope. Somehow he knew whatever was inside would only up the ante. Henry Haslett played for keeps. Colt respected the older man enough to recognize that.
He opened the envelope and tipped the contents onto his desk.
Five minutes later, after wading through the legalese, Colt leaned back in his chair. It should have been simple, the answer to his dilemma. But letting Henry buy into Granger Construction for half-ownership brought more than a needed injection of cash.
In the last few days, Colt had given their situation a hard look. They could make it, barring some unforeseen disaster. They'd have to stall a few creditors, which would be no problem since he'd made sure to always be on good terms with people he owed.
With the Victorian Oaks contract and some creative management, Granger would survive the crisis. But this offer from Haslett dangled in front of Colt like temptation. He'd never thought of himself as a driven man, but ambition came naturally to him.
With Haslett's money, Granger could go big time. It was a dream Colt had long cherished.
Haslett's gold could buy the dream. It would also make everything more complicated and more than likely kill the relationship between him and Hayley.
Colt could have argued with himself that letting Henry buy in to Granger didn't have to affect Hayley. But it would. How could she let herself trust Colt when his every business decision would be subject to her father's approval?
How could she marry a man who put himself into the position she'd fought so hard to get out of herself? She wouldn't.
If he accepted this offer, he might as well kiss her goodbye.
CHAPTER NINE
Hayley killed the Volvo and reached for the picnic basket. In the four days since realizing the depth of her feelings for Colt, she'd made progress in coming to terms with her vulnerability. If this was the hand fate chose to deal her, so be it.
Slamming the car door, she hoisted the heavy basket and crossed the pavement to Colt's office. Although they'd shared stolen minutes in the last few days, he'd been so busy with problems on one of Granger's other jobs that she'd decided he needed a break. Her co-conspirator, Jill, had mentioned that Colt had worked at the office several nights until the early morning.
Hayley was very aware how hard he'd been working. He hadn't crawled into her bed before midnight the last three nights.
He'd mentioned that he wanted to have dinner with her and go over the partnership papers the lawyer had drawn up for Haslett-Granger Renovations. She was sure he planned to go back to the office after that. But Hayley had some serious relaxation planned for Colton Granger, whether he wanted it or not.
According to Jill, Colt had nothing on his schedule this afternoon that couldn't wait, and Hayley planned to steal him away from the office early. An evening picnic in the park, a bottle of wine, and then when she had him lulled into an unsuspecting state, she'd set about finding out just what was troubling him.
Problems always had to be coaxed out of Colt. She didn't mind the effort if it would erase the worry from his eyes. Something troublesome had to have happened in the last few days. Whatever it was hadn't been bothering him when they'd made love in the opulent bower at the Wright-Moore House. But in the nights since then, she'd sensed an uncharacteristic desperation in him as he held her tightly in his arms.
Hayley pushed open the door to Colt's office. More than likely, he'd run into a snag finding financing to pull the business out of the red. Somehow, they'd have to find a solution to that.
Hayley sighed deeply, contentment pervading her as she sat waiting. Despite all the uncertainties and money worries ahead, she'd never felt happier in her life.
In the outer office, she heard Jill returning phone calls. She leaned forward, elbows on the desk, idly looking at the papers on his desk.
Haslett Incorporated. The name of her father's business leapt up at her from the legal-looking document on Colt's desk. Offer of partnership...fifty percent of total business in return for consideration in the amount of.... Hayley grasped the contract with trembling fingers.
Her father was buying into Granger Construction? She couldn't believe it. If Henry was a full partner in Granger that would give him direct control over everything she did with Haslett-Granger Renovations.
Hayley dropped the contract as if she'd been scalded, snatching it up again to find the signature page. Her father's scrawl was there, big and bold. But Colt's hadn't been inscribed.
She felt dead inside, unable to believe that Colt could consider taking her father's money
He wanted to sign the Has
lett-Granger partnership papers tonight, a voice in her head whispered. No wonder he’d been preoccupied these last few days.
She was barely aware of leaving the office and stumbling to the Volvo. The road between Granger Construction and Palmer House passed in a blur.
He couldn't do this to her. Colt wouldn't.
Then why were the papers on his desk? He's had them for days and never sent them back or thrown them away. Never even told you about the offer. Does that sound like a man with a clear conscience?
For the past two years, she'd worked like a dog for her independence, worked hard and long to prove to herself that she didn't need her father's money or his interference. To go back now and allow her father to affect her daily life, the work she loved--she couldn't do it.
In his mind, Colt could take her father's bribe and consider it an investment. He probably told himself that it had nothing to do with her, that he could keep the business separate from their relationship.
What a fantasy, she thought grimly.
A truckload of Granger workers passed her, waving as she turned on to Victorian Oaks Boulevard. Hayley drove on. She had to see him, had to find out. Maybe he wasn't at the house, but she remembered his habit of always checking things over at the end of a working day.
Hayley pulled up in the driveway behind the Suburban. She turned off the car and got out, crossing the front yard like a sleepwalker.
Wolf's motorcycle sat in the yard and she caught a glimpse of him working on the far end of the porch.
Hayley climbed the steps without pausing and went into the house. Each step added to the wrenching misery that filled her soul.
Hesitating in the entryway, Hayley heard the faint sound of his whistling coming from the library. She turned, forcing herself to face the confrontation, some part of her still clinging to a faint hope.
Colt was hunched in a corner, examining the floor molding. He turned around at the sound of her footsteps, his whistle fading away at the sight of her face.
"Honey, what's the matter?" He straightened.
"I found the contract on your desk," she said baldly. "From my father. I can't believe--" she broke off, fighting back tears, determined not to dissolve into a weeping lump.
He took a hasty step forward, stopping short when she stared at him with accusing eyes. "I haven't signed it, Hayley." His expression was serious, almost watchful.
"But you're considering signing. You've had the contract for days." She drew in a ragged breath. "I can't believe you've held me, made love to me, knowing you were going to sell me out."
"I am not selling you out " Colt bit the words off with hard emphasis. ''I'm not going to sign the damned contract."
"No?" She raised her brows in scornful disbelief. "Then why haven't you ripped it up? Why didn't you tell me about it?"
He looked at her in silence, his face dark and unreadable with a hint of disappointment flashing briefly in his eyes.
"I should have known better than to think anyone could resist Henry Haslett and his money," she declared, years of bitterness in her voice. "You can forget about our partnership. You've gotten where you wanted to go."
Still, Colt made no comment. He stood watching her, only the brief clenching of his fists giving indication of his frustration.
"From now on," Hayley said furiously, "we're enemies again. And I swear I'll take this contract from you if it's the last thing I do."
She stalked out of the house, and Colt didn't try to follow her. Hesitating at the top of the steps, she turned and walked to where Wolf was working on the wood trim.
He looked up, his black eyes gleaming.
"Would you drive me home, Wolf?" She looked down at her shaking hands. ''I'm not sure I'm safe behind the wheel."
Colt heard them drive out, forcing himself not to watch from the library window. He wanted to get back at her for turning to Wolf, wanted to punish her for not trusting him.
This was the tightrope he'd been walking ever since Henry Haslett's contract had landed on his desk. He should be glad to have Hayley out of his life, he told himself.
Who needed the grief of trying to challenge her life-long convictions? He couldn't make her believe in herself.
But he loved her all the same. And he knew he didn't have a prayer of convincing her of that either.
Giving her up, however, wasn't possible. He'd have to consider his next step carefully because he had no intention of letting Hayley demolish the love they shared.
Wolf drove in silence as Hayley wept miserably into her hands. She grabbed a napkin off the floorboard and mopped her nose only to start sniveling again.
"Did I ever tell you why I stayed here to help you out with this house?"
Still crying, Hayley looked over at her friend, the wild beard and curly black mane so much a part of him. "No."
He stared ahead. "I got tired of running.
Had to come to terms with some things that just wouldn't go away."
Her tears subsided into a trickle. Hayley waited, knowing that Wolf never talked about himself. If he was doing so now, he had a point to make with her. Unfortunately, she wasn't in the mood to hear it.
"We're a lot alike, you and me," Wolf commented. "Except you're a whole lot prettier and have a kinder heart."
"You have a very kind heart," she said in his defense, well aware of his kindness to her at the moment, even if she didn't want a lecture on the best way to face her troubles.
"We've both been burned," he went on, "and we're both mad about it."
Hayley glanced at her clenched fists. She'd never really thought of herself as angry. Over the years, she'd seen herself battling self-doubt and a demanding, domineering father. Maybe anger had more to do with it than she'd realized.
"And neither one of us want to give the world a second chance," Wolf concluded.
"Second chances just give people an opportunity to step on you all over again," she relented bitterly. God, she'd trusted Colt. Opened her heart to him, too, like the fool she was.
"You can't run away from this."
''I'm not!" Hayley exclaimed. "I marched right in there and confronted him." She was proud of that anyway.
Wolf eased to a stop at a traffic light and then turned, giving her a long, enigmatic look. ''I'm not talking about Colt."
Nausea fluttered to life in Hayley's stomach.
"I overheard what you said to him," Wolf said without pretense. "I may not be a fan of his, but even I can see you're angry at your father. Not Colt."
How could she pour out her anger and bitterness, her deep disappointment in him, when her father loved her so much? Especially now, when he was recovering from the heart attack?
Tears crept down her cheeks again, dripping off her chin. Hayley swiped at them, ineffectively. "I hate love. It makes me weak and stupid."
Wolf eased the Volvo across the intersection. "You're not alone. But when you run away, you just take the problems with you."
*
Hayley crossed the landing, pausing outside the door of her father's study. A flash of pain shot through her as she remembered the last time she'd seen him. She hadn't been alone then. Colt had walked into the hospital room with her, his presence warm and supportive.
She closed her eyes tightly and drew in a shuddering breath. She couldn't think of Colt now, couldn't cope with the agony of his betrayal. The irony of it all was that if she'd never known him, she wouldn't be here facing her father. Somehow in battling Colt, she'd grown stronger, come to feel confident in herself And then he'd traded her for her father's money.
Hayley sucked in another breath and willed her thoughts away from Colt.
She needed to take care of older issues, but Hayley definitely wasn't planning to upset her father. Today wouldn't be a replay of her rare teenage tantrums. Those displays had always ended in her sobbing, banished to her room for daring to yell at him.
No crying or yelling today. She really needed Henry to hear her and she suspected that a quiet conversati
on would carry more. She had to stand up for herself The situation with Granger Construction had only been a spur for her to act on the growing conviction that time was running out.
What if her father's heart attack had been more serious? She'd have lost him without ever making peace with him. She'd have gone on forever with the guilt of her deep anger towards him and a bitter remorse that she'd let him dominate her until she almost hated him.
Raising her hand, she rapped lightly on the door to her father's study. Almost immediately, Thomas opened the door, a welcoming, approving smile on his thin face.
"Miss Hayley, come right in! We're so glad to see you." Her father's beaming assistant always included himself in Henry's interests.
"It's nice to see you, Thomas." She crossed the huge, luxurious office.
Henry sat at his large cherry wood desk, barking instructions into the telephone. He glanced up, greeting her with a smile before turning his attention again to the person on the other end of the connection. "No, Danville. Do it the way I told you. Yes. Okay. I'll check with you next week."
Hayley tamped down her rising anxiety as he hung up the phone and turned to face her across the desk.
"Princess! So glad you came by." He frowned, his gaze swiftly taking in her casual clothes and unbound hair. "Did you just come from work?"
She couldn't suppress a small smile. If her pale pink jeans and cotton shirt offended him, what would he think of the stained T-shirt and cut offs that were her usual working attire?
"Come in, come in," Henry commanded, gesturing her farther into the room.
"I hope this was a good time for me to stop by," Hayley said.
"It's a great time," her father assured her. Thomas left the office, closing the door behind him carefully.
"Well?" Henry prompted, a sudden frown in his eyes.
Hayley drew in a deep breath as she stood in front of his desk. "Daddy, I love you."
Her father eased back in his chair, comfortable once again. "Princess, I know you do. You've just been confused this last year or so."