He got the impression her last remark was supposed to be a dig at him, but he couldn’t figure out why she felt the need.
The waitress, he pegged her at about nineteen or twenty, twisted the bottom of her dishwater blonde hair around her pinky. “Well, thank you, ma’am, but it’s okay. We do have butter.” She hurried away as if she were afraid Preston and Maggie were going to start tearing each other’s heads off while she was still standing there. He was about to mention this to Maggie when his cell phone rang. “This had better not be Taralynn,” he said to no one in particular, then looked at the number ringing in and sighed in relief. “Yes?”
“Hi, Preston. It’s Elise.”
“Elise, how are you?”
He spoke before he had a chance to think better of it, and the look in Maggie’s eyes had already turned colder and more distant. Damn! That coffee with Elise had been a mistake, even if it had been innocent. He silently cursed himself and turned his attention back to his phone. “What can I do for you?” he asked.
“Preston, honey, are you okay?”
“Yes. I’m fine.”
“That’s good, but I’m afraid you might not be for very long.”
“Really? Why is that?”
“Oh, Preston, I am so sorry to have to tell you this, but I guess you haven’t heard the latest news on Andy Clarke, have you?”
“Apparently not. What is the latest news?”
“Andy Clarke is sending my niece off to finishing school in Switzerland. Not personally, of course, through some sort of scholarship fund he set up. And my sister Carole, of course, is now singing his praises to the rooftops.”
“I don’t get it. What’s the point in sending his mistress out of the country? Isn’t that going to make things a little inconvenient for him?”
“Why do you think, Preston? So you can’t use the affair to blackmail him out of the tender offer. With her out of the country, no one can question her about what may, or may not, have happened. And my airhead sister now thinks the man’s a saint, so she will vigorously defend any accusations made against him.”
He was stunned. “She thinks the man’s a saint? He was sleeping with her eighteen-year-old daughter. How on earth could she possibly defend that?”
“Believe me, she would.”
“Great! Just great. How the hell did Andy Clarke find out what I was planning anyway? You didn’t slip up and tell him when the two of you were in bed, did you?”
“Of course not. Why in the world would you think I would do a thing like that?”
He couldn’t help his irritation. “You’ve heard of pillow talk, haven’t you?”
There was an awkward pause before Elise responded. “I didn’t deserve that from you, Preston. Loose though I may be, I am not the one who opened my mouth.”
Elise let out one sob before hanging up the phone, and he was left feeling like an idiot wearing a dunce cap in the middle of the school room. He’d avoided Maggie’s gaze since taking the call, but as soon as he hung up, there was no more postponing it. She was sure to be pissed. For a woman who claimed to want nothing to do with him, she certainly was jealous about his coffee with Elise; which wouldn’t bother him in the least if she could just be honest about why.
He met her cold stare and felt the need to start explaining. “Elise was just calling me with some important information.”
She stared at him defiantly. “Why she was calling is your business. Not mine.”
God, he hated it when she looked at him that way. “Maggie, she really was calling to tell me something important. Do you remember what I told you about Andy Clarke’s teen-age girlfriend?”
“Yes.” He tone was neutral.
“It seems he found out I was going to use that information to get him to leave our company alone, and he’s sent the girl out of the country.”
“I pretty much gathered that from your end of the conversation.”
She didn’t sound nearly as surprised as he felt. “Do you really think Elise is the one who told him?”
He shrugged. “She did start off the conversation by apologizing to me. And there weren’t many people who knew about Andy’s affair with her niece. I think….”
Maggie suddenly held her hand up, as if she wanted him to stop talking. She spoke quietly. “Preston, look who’s just leaving.”
He turned instinctively and there, larger than life, coming across the porch toward them, were Nicholas Beck and Taralynn Clarke.
Chapter 20
Andy Clarke removed his headphones and switched off the audio surveillance equipment he’d installed to listen in on Elise Chambers’ phone lines. He checked his watch. Twenty minutes since she’d left his bedroom, taking his spoon-fed information with her. Goddamn whore must have picked up the phone to call Preston the minute she’d stepped inside her house.
He now had definitive proof of how word of his affair had been leaked. Regina must have confided in her Aunt Elise. Who then went straight to Preston. What was the world coming to when a man couldn’t trust his own mistresses?
He called his head of security. “I’ve got what I needed. Take the bugs out of Elise’s phone lines at the first available opportunity.” He then terminated the call without waiting for a response. His command would be obeyed.
He wondered if he should send Elise a dozen roses for showing him where the leak was, and for disseminating the information he wanted made known, both at the same time. He couldn’t help but chuckle. If he did send her flowers, she’d probably think they were a token of appreciation for good sex.
Inspired, and beginning to enjoy this new battle with Preston, he decided the time was right to play his trump card. He called Patrice McKenzie.
“Hello.” She sounded eloquent uttering just a single word.
“Patrice, honey, it’s Andy. I haven’t seen you in months, and I couldn’t resist calling to see how you were doing.”
“Andy, darling, you lie as charmingly as ever. May I presume you’re calling about your bid for my late brother’s company?”
Her quick deduction hardly surprised him. Patrice was a shrewd woman. She’d had to be to continue living her lavish lifestyle after her dear old brother Edgar had died and left all of his stock in Ty-Ken to his daughter. Patrice had been left with a generous inheritance from her brother, of course, but her attempts at investments, mainly financing B movies and buying up stock before the latest market meltdown had proven disastrous. Her spending habits, however, had continued on unchecked.
“Patrice, you wound me with your accusations. You know you’re one of my very favorite people in the entire world.” He lied.
“Of course I am, Andy. On those rare occasions when you find yourself wanting company closer to your own age.”
“Patrice.” He paused and took a breath in order to emphasize his addressing her. “Your company has always been my favorite. And if the world had you alone to judge by, the age of fifty-two would be considered young and beautiful.”
She laughed. “Isn’t it amazing how flowery words can smell like such horse manure? We both know you didn’t call to discuss our occasional trysts. What is it you want to know about Ty-Ken?”
“I do love your direct nature, Patrice. I need a list of all the shareholders of record. Names, addresses and the number of shares owned. Can you do that for me?”
“It might be a bit tricky, but I think I can manage. The real question is, what am I going to receive in return for my efforts?”
“Name your price.”
“A quarter of a million dollars.”
He swore he’d heard wrong. He sure as hell had never expected her to take him quite so literally. “I’m sorry, Patrice. Did you say one quarter of a million dollars?”
“You know perfectly well that’s what I said. You’re not ready for a hearing aid yet. And that’s in cash and cashier’s checks no larger than nine and a half thousand. I don’t need Uncle Sam prying into my business anymore than he already does.”
“Patric
e, let’s be realistic here. When I said to name your price, I meant within reason.”
“I know you did.” Her voice never cracked a note, and her words never missed a beat. “And I can assure you, I look upon this as a reasonable price. But, if you’ve got someone else you can call who will do it for less, my niece perhaps? Feel free.”
“But, Patrice.” He struggled to find an easy justification for his refusal. He did, after all, still want her cooperation. “My bid for the company is already going to cost me billions.”
“That’s right. But, let’s be honest, Andy, what this takeover costs you is really your problem, isn’t it? A quarter of a million dollars is going to be pocket change compared to what it’s going to cost you if you have to buy off every single shareholder at a maximum tender offer price.”
Dear Patrice. She was always so forthright. Andy ceased arguing. Might just as well pay her and be done with it. “Of course, dear,” he said. “Anything you say. Just get me the list of shareholders.”
Chapter 21
“So, here we both are, Nick. You might as well have a seat and discuss what I was going to tell you at our meeting this afternoon.” Maggie gestured to the chair Preston had just vacated.
Once Taralynn had spotted Preston, she’d zeroed in on him like a homing beacon. She’d insisted on speaking with him privately. Preston, his face blotched red, had agreed, Maggie was sure, just to keep his new ex from starting a scene.
She wondered what they were saying to each other right now, and then felt irritated with herself for wondering. It didn’t matter. Unless it had something to do with their company, it didn’t concern her.
“Okay, Maggie, I’m sitting right across from you, but you’re a million miles away.”
Nick’s voice yanked her back to reality like a sharp jerk on a chain. She looked him over carefully, from his tousled dark hair to the tiny wrinkles just starting to form on his face. He was a handsome man with expressive dark eyes and a head full of curls, and undoubtedly didn’t suffer from any lack of female companionship himself. At forty-four, he was ten years older than Preston, but his body had been kept in good condition. He had, in all likelihood, just slept with Taralynn himself. That seemed to be the way things worked in their crowd. Everybody slept with everybody else, and then everybody just pretended they didn’t.
She shook her head and grinned. “I guess I’m lucky you could fit me into your schedule, Nick. Tell me, did you find Taralynn’s grief over her break up with Preston difficult to deal with while you were making love?”
Where Preston would have grimaced over such a remark, Nick laughed out loud. “Oh, but you have a great way with words, Maggie. Sure I couldn’t persuade you to write for my paper?”
“Sorry. That’s not in my career plans.”
She paused, trying to discern what his angle in the current situation was. She didn’t necessarily dislike Nick. He was unapologetic about how he made his living, but he was honest about it. He didn’t try to conceal his mud slinging or belly crawling behind a façade of upbringing. And she figured he was more interested in the scandals Taralynn could feed his paper, than the momentary lust her body offered. Which, for her, was currently a good thing. It meant Nick had his price.
“Preston tells me you’re running a story about him in this week’s edition of The Tattletale,” she said. “Shall I presume your angle will be unflattering?”
He grinned, leaning back into the chair like he hadn’t a care in the world. “You’re a smart lady. Sure you don’t want to work for me?”
“I’ll tell you what, Nick. While I have absolutely no desire to become an employee of your tabloid, I am in a position to give you a much better headline than whatever fiction she’s been feeding you.”
He gave her a smart aleck, cocky kind of smile. “Okay, but could you give me a better blow job, I wonder.”
Man, but she got tired of putting up with stupid pick-up lines. “Keep your dick in your pants, Nick. Unlike the bimbos you’re evidently used to dealing with, I know how to use my brains to get what I want.”
He leaned forward and chuckled, staring at her with obvious amusement. “You’re every bit as tough as rumor has it, aren’t you?”
“I wouldn’t know. I make it a point to stay out of the loop where gossip is concerned.”
“Touché. So, what headline can you give me that’s worth more than Taralynn’s carefully concocted tale of how Preston’s consoling himself with booze and loose women since she dumped him?”
Maggie raised an eyebrow. “She dumped him?”
He laughed. “I suppose that is stretching it a bit, but Taralynn doesn’t think it would sit well with her public image to be the dumpee.”
“Huh!” Maggie shook her head in denial. “Don’t let her kid you, Nick. She’d be more than happy to play the martyr if she thought it wouldn’t expose her tabloid gossip as the petty act of revenge it is.” She smiled and added, “And by the way, you can quote me on that.”
“I just might have to.” Nick caught her gaze and stared hard. “You haven’t told me what your headline is yet.”
She licked her lips, hoping to convey a sense of anticipation. “Yes, that’s right. Only, it’s not just a headline. It’s an exclusive.”
He leaned forward, resting his chin on his hands. “Now you’ve got my interest piqued.”
She stole one last glance at where Preston stood with Taralynn, wondering what they were talking about, then turned her attention back to Nick. “Ty-Ken is sponsoring a charity ball in honor of its new commitment to build a home for abused and neglected children.”
“They are? I haven’t read anything about that in any of the papers.”
“Of course not. I told you this is an exclusive.”
“Yeah. I guess you weren’t kidding. Who’s going to be there?”
“Plenty of celebrities, sports figures and a few politicians for your paper to chat with. Maybe find a little dirt to dish. It could be just the sort of thing to launch your paper into the mainstream press. If you’re interested in such a thing.”
Nick nodded. “I like the sound of that. So when is this charity ball supposed to take place?”
She held up her hand and shook her head. “Not so fast. Does this mean we have an agreement? You will dump the misinformation Taralynn gave you, and thereby spare yourself from defending against the inevitable lawsuit, and instead you will do an exclusive on my charity ball.”
“You know,” he said, “you could probably get People, or somebody like that to do an exclusive on a story this big.”
“That’s right, Nick, I could. So aren’t you lucky I’m offering it to you instead?”
He grinned at her, running his fingers through his dark curls. “Yeah. Lucky I have a story you want quashed.” He reached his hand across the table. “Okay, Maggie. You’ve got yourself a deal.”
Chapter 22
Preston escorted Taralynn to a far corner of the parking lot, where no one else could hear them talk. Once he got her out of earshot of the rest of the diners, he took her by the shoulders and turned her to face him. Anger and spite flickered in her dead on glare. The sharp lines and angles of her face, which had once seemed so classical, now looked shrill and hard.
“Okay, Taralynn, you’ve got what you wanted, a face-to-face confrontation with me. Are you happy now? And just what do you think you have to gain by hounding me? It’s over between us.”
The words came out in a rush, like a huge release of steam.
She pursed her lips together and clenched her teeth. “Do you think I’m someone to be made a fool of, Preston? Do you think I care to be demeaned?”
“What?” Her accusations floored him. What line of reasoning was she using? “Taralynn, relationships end all the time. It has nothing to do with a person being demeaned or made a fool of.”
A hope spread through him. Maybe all she needed was just to have her feelings soothed. Maybe all she wanted was reassurance no one would think the less of her because
they hadn’t wound up married. He continued on in a hurry. “Look, I am really sorry if I made you feel that way. That is not at all what I intended, I promise.”
Unfortunately, the anticipated softening in her eyes never happened. She took a step back from him, and if anything, looked angrier. “Don’t patronize me, Preston. Do you really think all you have to do is utter a few insincere words and I’m going to let you off the hook?”
One could always hope. He scanned the parking lot, as if somewhere in the rows of parked cars and swaying palm trees lay the answer to his problems. He sighed. “You are turning the entire situation into something much uglier than it needs to be. And, while you may hurt me in the process, you’re not going to come away from this unscathed.”
“Oh really? What makes you think so?”
Maybe if he appealed to her sense of vanity? “Do you really think acting this way when a relationship ends is going to help you attract any future marriage prospects? You’re more likely to scare men away than encourage them to propose.”
She made a face. “Gee, Preston, so nice to know you care. But don’t you worry, I have never had any problem attracting men, and I don’t think I’m going to have any problems in the future. Besides, once Nick’s story runs tomorrow, the whole world is going to think I dumped you. That hardly makes it look as if I’m taking our break up badly. And the takeover business is just that, business. Plain and simple.”
She pronounced the last words deliberately, looking and sounding smug as she said them. Guess there was nothing left to do but hit her with the hard, cold truth. “Fine. You go ahead and pursue this takeover, but I promise you, I am not going to sit back and let your father take my company without putting up a fight. And if you give a damn at all about daddy, or at least if you care anything about his bank account, you may want to spare him what that fight’s going to cost him.”
“You can fight all you want. It’s not going to do you any good. And in the end, I’m sure my father’s bank account will do just fine once it’s been fattened back up from Ty-Ken’s profits.”
GRATIFICATION (Desire Never Dies) Page 9