Too late. Isaac brought him in.
Black suit, traditional cut with a plain dark tie and white shirt--conservative. Age approximately sixty-five. Missing a button on the sleeve of his coat and an almost unnoticeable curtain bar mark on the pants. Slightly scuffed shoes.
Likely retired and didn’t wear the suit any more than necessary.
I was pretty sure he was retired and golfed regularly from the sunglass tan lines at his temples.
“Hello, I’m Jackson Lancaster.” He held out his hand to shake.
I blinked. This was Jackson Lancaster? I’d heard of the guy of course, but I’d never met him. He usually dealt with the Duke when he had business here. As a big-wig in town--one of those lawyers that Got-Things-Done--he didn’t normally grace us underlings with his presence.
I really wasn’t liking this.
I accepted his handshake--firm, confident grip--and smiled at him with my best “work face.” “It’s a pleasure. I’ve heard all about you. I thought you had retired.”
He smiled. “I am. Semi-retired. I’m here on a favor.”
I directed him to a seat in my small, simple office and I wished I had gotten that promotion last year.
“Normally, you deal with the Duke for--”
Jackson laughed.
I blushed, realizing that I’d just revealed the in-house nickname we had for my boss. I slapped my hand over my mouth. “Everett,” I said through my fingers. “I meant Everett.”
He smiled. “Well, the Duke is appropriate. I’m impressed a young lady like yourself even knows who John Wayne is.”
“How can I not? Everett is practically the man’s doppelganger. Have you seen him in a cowboy hat?”
“I have. And it is uncanny.”
“Well, there you go.” I laughed and adjusted my position in my chair. Isaac came in and brought coffee. Glad to have something to do with my nervous hands, I took the cup and sipped on the steamy brew. “Now, what can I do for you, Mister Lancaster?”
“I understand you’re working with Chris Davenport on the buyout of his business, Velvet Touch Landscaping.”
“Yes. Were you looking to invest in the business?”
“Not me personally, but I’m here representing a friend.”
“And that friend would be?”
He smiled. “I am not at liberty to say.”
“Ah.” I should have guessed. Why else would Lancaster be talking to me when normally he ran his personal investments through my boss? “So what is it your client is interested in, exactly?”
“Financing Davenport’s buyout, so the company remains locally owned and operated.”
I raised my eyebrow. That’s exactly what Chris wanted. So what was the catch? “In return for what, exactly?”
“Well, this isn’t a gift. My client wants a portion of the profits every month until the investment is paid back.”
I blinked. “And when the investment is paid off?”
“At that time, it is up for negotiation between my client and Davenport about whether or not the investor will remain an investor, or if Davenport will get sole ownership of his company.”
I nodded. “So basically, your client will be his partner until the investment is returned?”
“Silent partner. The running of the business will remain entirely in Davenport’s hands.”
I shook my head. “What does Mister Davenport have to do to get this investor?”
“The same as he would for anyone. My client would like a business proposal, including a projection of how long it will take for the return of the initial investment as well as projected company values.”
There it was. I could feel it in my gut. That’s what the hook was. “So if, say, the company’s value doubles when the initial investment is paid off, will your client expect to be bought out at market value?”
“Most likely,” Lancaster said. “After all, you buy a house for a hundred thousand and pay it off, by the time you sell it, it’s worth double that. You wouldn’t sell it for what you paid, would you?”
“No, of course not.” So Chris would be in the same position he’s in now, only a few years down the road. “So basically this client of yours is buying half the business, and will likely sell when they get their money back.”
Lancaster nodded.
“So when does your client need to know the answer?”
Lancaster blinked. “Pardon?”
“When does your client need to know if Davenport accepts the terms?”
He held up his hands. “You’re getting ahead of yourself. This is not the only investment my client is looking into. My client wants to see the numbers first. And very quickly.” He leaned in, like he was going to tell me a secret. “My investor knows there’s a time crunch involved. So this offer has a twenty-four hour time limit.” Lancaster glanced at his watch. “I’ll be back tomorrow at three o’clock to see the proposal. I will assume Mister Davenport will have a counter offer?”
You bet your ass he will. I nodded, painting that business smile on my face again. “Will your client be with you tomorrow when you come back?”
“I have full authority to act on my client’s behalf. If Mr. Davenport impresses me, he’ll have a new partner.”
I led Lancaster out of the office, my brain scrambled. I knew that Chris wasn’t looking for a new partner as much as an investor who would front the cash. A thousand little things ran through my mind--the biggest one being this mystery partner offer.
Hmm.
Lancaster did say he could make a counter proposal.
Chris and I have some work to do tonight…
Chapter Fourteen
Washing the day’s dirt and grime away was Chris’s favorite part of the day.
He stood directly under the shower, letting the screaming hot water run down his body and massage his sore muscles.
He may only be thirty-five, but he was starting to feel the aches from the strenuous work outside. Not that he didn’t love the work--because he did--but because his body didn’t bounce back from soreness like it used to. Things were starting to creak, crackle and pop.
He rolled his shoulders, letting the heat relax him. Though really, there wasn’t much it could do unless it started raining money.
No matter what he did, it looked like Marty was going to have to sell his half to that douche Knight and Reese Lawn Care.
He grabbed the soap and started scrubbing, though he wished he had something to scrub away the pounding in his head every time he thought about the money and the deadline.
Eight days.
Eight friggin’ days.
Ugh, his head throbbed just thinking--
Wait.
He slapped the shower off.
That wasn’t his head pounding.
That was his front door.
He grabbed a towel and jumped out. Who in the world could be pounding on his door like that? He flung it open.
“Well, now I know why it took you so long,” Harper said, a grin on her face.
“What are you doing here?”
“We got work to do, buddy.” She pushed past him and the puddle of water on the floor and went straight for the kitchen table.
“What are you talking about?”
She turned. “Listen, get dressed. We have a proposal to write tonight. I think I’ve got an investor for you.”
She’d found someone? “Who?”
She pulled a computer out of her briefcase. “Go get dressed. You’re getting water everywhere.”
“What if I don’t want to?”
She shrugged. “Well, be naked if you want. I sure as hell wouldn’t mind the view, but we have to have this done and ready to present tomorrow.”
Chris went and got dressed.
***
Four hours and an empty pizza box later, Chris pulled off his glasses and tossed them on the table.
“This is why I don’t do numbers and computer crap.” He rubbed his temples.
Harper nodded. “The m
ore I thought about the deal offered by this investor, the more I had this sinking feeling that it wasn’t what you wanted.”
He agreed. “I don’t want another partner.”
“No, we need to keep this all in your hands.” She picked up the pile of papers they’d printed out. “Now if this mystery investor is not willing to accept these terms, that’s where it will get tricky.”
“No kidding.” He glanced at the clock. He wouldn’t get much sleep tonight. Not because of Harper, either. His gut was already roiling.
They’d decided after discussing everything that the only way he should do this was to offer a percentage of equity to the investor in lieu of the partnership. This way, Chris would maintain control. The numbers were strong, and with the all the coming contracts, the company would continue to grow.
Hopefully the investor would accept the deal rather than buying the partnership.
“Do you think they’ll negotiate?”
She shrugged. “Lancaster’s a lawyer. He’s all about negotiations. I’m sure there’ll be some wiggle room.” Her voice wavered as she spoke.
He reached over and touched her hand. “Are you sure?”
“No, I’m not. But it’s the best we’ve got.” She squeezed his fingers back. “I want to make sure this doesn’t fail for you, Chris.”
He glided his kitchen chair toward her. “We’ll make it work,” he said as he pulled her chair closer to his.
She collapsed against him, her head landing on his shoulder. “Well, we’re better off than we were yesterday.”
“This is true.”
She sighed and he stroked her back, marveling over the smooth feel of her little blouse. Soft and smooth against his rough fingers, it was a contradiction of textures.
“You always wear these,” he said finally.
She sat up. “Wear what?”
“These silky tops.” He ran his fingers around the neckline. “Soft and slick. Always think I’ll rip them or something with these meat hooks of mine.”
“I doubt that. These things can take a beating.” She ran her hand over the blouse. Her hand rubbed across her breast. He doubted she meant to do it, but seeing the gesture sent a zip of heat through him.
The good kind.
When her gaze met his, she stroked his face. “You look good without your glasses on.”
He smirked. “Thanks. I think.”
“You do. Very sexy. Like my own private little secret.” She ran her hand down his shoulder and over his chest, then bit her lip as she gazed in his eyes.
He pulled her toward him, and in an awkward shift that had them bumping heads and laughing, she wound up on his lap, straddling him.
She rubbed her brow. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah. Are you?”
“Fine. Just feeling rather stupid.”
He stroked her hair, half of which had tumbled out of the little clip on the back of her head. “Don’t. You’re probably one of the smartest women I know.”
She wrapped her arms around his neck. “Oh yeah? What other awesome things do you think of me?”
“That you’re hot as hell.” He ran his hand along her hips, smacking her on the butt.
“Ohh…” She got this wicked smile on her face. “Be careful what you start there, mister.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Tempt me.”
She kissed him, and he grabbed her ass. Her hips rocked against him, and she moaned as he started kissing her neck. He slid his hand over her breast, pinching at the hard nipple under the silky shirt.
She pulled away. “You’re naughty.”
“You like it.”
She smirked, her hand slid in between them and she stroked him through his jeans. “What do we have here?”
“Nothing important,” he replied.
She started unfastening his jeans. “I wouldn’t say that.” When she unbuttoned him, she climbed off his lap and knelt on the floor.
His dick stood at attention as he watched her examine him.
“No, I think this is important,” she said, and licked the head.
He groaned.
She took him in her mouth.
He almost came right then.
Hell…
She did wicked things with her tongue, arousing him higher and higher. He was about to explode if she didn’t stop.
“Harper,” he moaned. He pulled her off him.
“But I wasn’t done.”
“Oh yes, you were.” He pulled out a condom that he’d stashed in his pocket when he’d gotten dressed--he was an optimist, evidently--and slid it on. She sat on his lap, taking him inside, and began to ride him.
He moved his hips to meet her, and with every thrust her moves became more desperate and strong. She tossed her head back, crying out. Her body shook around him as she erupted in orgasm.
She fell against him, and he slid her off. Though too horny to get her to the bedroom, he guided her to the nearby couch. He bent her over the side, and slid in.
She moaned as he pounded into her, and she came again, her orgasm bringing his out as well. When they finished, they slid onto the floor together.
She met his gaze. “Wow.”
He smiled. “Yeah. Wow.” He kissed her brow.
Damn.
He was falling hard for this gal.
Chapter Fifteen
Tuesday
I bit my lip as I watched Jackson Lancaster go over the proposal.
Chris stood at “parade rest” like he was in the military--shoulders square, hands behind his back, gaze straight ahead, feet, shoulder’s width apart. His suit, starched within an inch of its life, was the same one he had on when we first met in the coffee shop.
He was so stiff I thought he might be frozen.
Jackson perused the paperwork, saying nothing as he scanned the printed version of everything we just presented to him via the slide show.
Unlike Chris, I fidgeted from one foot to the other, waiting for some kind of acknowledgement from Lancaster about our counter offer.
The only move Chris made was a couple of cutting glances at me out of the corner of his eyes. I wanted to stick my tongue out at him, but I didn’t. When this was all said and done, I would make fun of him and his formal stance.
Right now, though, I wasn’t saying a word.
Finally Lancaster closed the folder. “I’ve seen all I need to see.”
“And your thoughts?” I asked.
“I need to discuss it with my client.” He glanced at me, then at Chris, and said nothing as he stepped out of the room.
As soon as he left, I exhaled a breath I didn’t realize I was holding.
Chris relaxed, but only a bit.
“I think that went well.” I walked over to the water dispenser in the corner and got myself a drink.
He relaxed and pushed his glasses up his nose. “Hope so.”
“Well, I’m sure it won’t take long to find out,” I replied as I bought him a cup of water. “It’ll be okay. You’ll see.” I was being the confident, strong one at the moment, if only so he’d relax. Inside I was a bundle of nerves.
Who would have guessed I’d care about a landscaping company?
He drank the water and ran his hands through his hair--or tried to anyway. Whatever gel he’d used had slicked it into a hard shell.
Maybe it was the guy, not the company, I thought to myself. I glanced out the glass windows of the conference room to the rest of the office and saw my assistant coming.
“Uh-oh, looks like I’m needed.” I gestured to the door just as Isaac opened it.
“Hey, Harper,” Isaac stuck his head in the door. “I need you real quick.”
I nodded. “Sure.” I glanced at Chris. “I’ll be right back, okay?”
“Sure.” He sat down at the table and pulled out his cell phone.
I followed Isaac back to my office and quickly helped him out with some paperwork. On my way back to the conference room, I saw Lancaster in a small consulting room, talking on h
is cell phone.
I didn’t intend to eavesdrop, but hey, it happens.
“It’s a good deal. You’ll get your money back.”
I froze.
A grin spread over my face. I doubled my pace, quite a feat in my heels, and rounded the corner to the conference room.
“We did it,” I whispered to myself. Because, really, all that remained now was signing the papers and getting the money. It seemed so surreal.
We did it! I felt like the rebels from Star Wars right after they destroyed the Death Star. We did it! We did it!
I couldn’t wait to tell Chris! I had almost broken into a sprint--or as best as I could in my Mary Jane style heels.
Yeah. Probably should have been watching where I was going and not doing the mental happy dance.
Slam!
When did they put a wall here?
I blinked. Focused.
I hadn’t walked into a wall, but a very tall man in a dark suit.
Had Chris come looking for me? I couldn’t wait to tell him what I overheard…
Grinning, I looked up to see his face.
Nope.
It was the guy from the restaurant last week. What the heck was he doing here?
“Are you all right?” He held me against him, my ankles wobbled in heels way too high for my speed walking attempt.
I clung to the guy as I got my balance, and he held me in an almost too-friendly embrace. Nonetheless, even making a total ass of myself couldn’t take the smile off my face. “We did it!”
He looked puzzled for a second, but smiled at me. “We did?”
“Yeah, we did,” I said, grinning from ear to ear. “Well, I--”
Cursing made me turn my head.
There stood Chris, glaring at me. “Son of a bitch.” And out the door he went.
“Chris. Wait, Chris,” I pulled myself out of the guy’s arms.
“Davenport,” the guy said, a smirk on his face. He looked way too happy to be seen embracing me. And for a second, he pulled me against him again.
“Dude,” I snapped and shoved the guy away.
He laughed as I took off for Chris.
But by the time I got to the door, Chris squealed out of the parking lot, his truck looking like it would drive over anyone in his way.
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