GRATIFICATION (Desire Never Dies)

by Clara Grace Walker

  Her words came out angry and spiteful. He wondered whether there would be anything he could say to make her see logic. Or was an ugly, nasty fight the inevitable outcome? “Think about what you’re saying, Taralynn. Once I start fighting back, it’s going to hurt you as much as you’re trying to hurt me. And you can stop it right now. All you have to do is convince your father to just walk away. I know he’ll listen to you. Just explain to him you want to get on with your life. Find a nice man who loves and appreciates you. And forget all this unpleasantness.”

  “Oh, you’d really like that, wouldn’t you?” She slammed her hands onto her hips. Her eyes had glazed over in a haze of anger that seemed impenetrable. “You must really think I’m a pushover.”

  “No, Taralynn. That’s hardly the word I would use to describe you. What I would like to think is that you are a sensible, intelligent person.”

  She answered him with a stinging slap across his face. “How dare you insult me!”

  Calling her sensible and intelligent was insulting? He put his hand to his face. His shock instantaneously gave way to anger. She was pushing him farther than any human being had a right to, and he was through pussy-footing around. “Very well,” he said, biting off each word as harshly as he could. “You go ahead with this half-baked tender offer of yours, and I’m going to bring a derivative action on behalf of the shareholders to stop it.”

  “On what grounds?”

  Her words were defiant, and he had to force himself not to shout back at her. “On the grounds the offer is not made in the best interest of the shareholders, but rather is motivated by the spite of a woman scorned. And then I’m going to subpoena all of your father’s business records and prove Clarke Industries isn’t solvent enough to buy out Ty-Ken. Think about it, Taralynn. Is that really what you want to see splashed across the papers?”

  She started to laugh. She laughed so hard and so loud he thought maybe she’d finally snapped. “You asshole,” she spat. “Don’t you remember what I told you? By this time tomorrow, Nick is going to have a very unflattering story about you on the front page of his tabloid. Not only is it going to say that I dumped you, but it’s also going to say you’re a drunk, and no longer capable of running a company like Ty-Ken. Taking over your company will be the best thing we could possibly do for the shareholders.”

  Now it was his turn to laugh. “So sorry to have out-maneuvered you, my dear. But the only story Nick is going to print in any way related to me has nothing at all to do with our break up.”

  “You’re lying.”

  “Am I? Well, while you’re wasting your time bitching me out, Maggie’s back up there at our table cutting a deal with Nick on the story he’s really going to print.”

  He’d gotten to her this time. She licked her lips nervously and glanced back in the direction of the restaurant. He read the doubt and indecision in her eyes when she looked back at him. He could almost see her thoughts, weighing whether to challenge him on the issue or not. But finally, steely determination fixated in her gaze once more.

  “Go ahead and give it your best shot, lover boy. There’s nothing you can come up with that’s going to be more valuable than the headlines I have already given to him.”

  “That sure of yourself, are you?”

  Triumph flashed back in her smile. “Yes, I am.”

  “Then I guess that would be your mistake.”

  “I don’t think so. Nick and I have, shall we say, an understanding.”

  “Of course you do. And I’d be willing to bet what you’re understanding and what he’s understanding are two different things.”

  Seething now, the smile disappeared from her face. “Let’s not waste time with innuendo, Preston. What is it you’re trying to say?”

  “The obvious. Nick’s already had the somewhat limited challenge of coaxing you into his bed. You have nothing left to offer him but lies and the possibility of a lawsuit.”

  Her face turned bright red and she flung wildly at him with her fists. This time, however, he was ready for her. He grabbed hold of her wrists before she struck him and held tight.

  She hissed and twisted, trying to jerk free of his grasp. Tears formed at the corners of her eyes. “You are a miserable, lying worm, Preston Tyler, and I’m going to make you pay for dumping me if it’s the last thing I do!”

  “Sure you are, honey. But right now, I’d suggest you go compose yourself. It really isn’t seemly for a person of your social standing to be carrying on in a public parking lot.”

  “Why, you….”

  She twisted again, and this time he let her go, causing her to nearly stumble. “Go get yourself together and figure out what it is you’re really going to do, Taralynn. In the meantime, this conversation is over.”

  Chapter 23

  The Miami corporate offices of Ty-Ken Communications inhabited a chrome and glass skyscraper overlooking the water. From the executive suite on the thirtieth floor, the shoreline unfolded like a white ribbon of sand in either direction, where people the size of ants spilled over the length of beach, and the Atlantic Ocean stretched to the horizon.

  Two floor-to-ceiling windows made up the corner walls and caught the sun’s brightness, holding it captive in Preston’s office, reflecting off mahogany furniture that had been polished until it shimmered. Cream plush carpeting completed the room’s décor, making a person feel both comfortable and awestruck at the same time.

  Maggie had always liked this office. It had been her father’s until the day he’d had his heart attack. Warren Tyler’s office had been across the hall, claiming only artificial lighting in place of windows, due to the man’s fear of heights. Poor Warren had never wanted to know just how high up the elevator carried him when he reported to work each day.

  Preston, on the other hand, had hated his father’s office and turned it into a storage room upon his death, then taken a smaller office next to Edgar’s. But, Edgar followed his business partner to the great beyond less than two years later.

  Her father’s death had been barely a month before she broke off her engagement with Preston and left for Key West. She realized now her father’s heart attack had, in fact, precipitated the break-up. Losing her father had crystallized the gnawing sense of emptiness she’d felt growing up. Even alive, her father had never really been hers. She’d lost him to business before she had ever been born.

  Sitting at his funeral, listening to business and political leaders eulogize him in glowing words, she had wanted to stand up and scream; to tell everyone in attendance he had never attended a single one of her dance recitals, or a father/daughter dance, that his sister had shopped for all of her clothes, her birthday presents and even her Christmas gifts; that her father had never once reviewed one of her report cards; that he had standing orders with the schools she attended never to contact him unless there was a problem; that she had never once in her entire life felt like she really mattered to him.

  Every music recital, every school play, her first day of school, her high school graduation. All of it. He’d missed the whole damn thing. And when he died, Preston took over his role as CEO. She saw herself going from CEO’s neglected daughter to CEO’s neglected wife.

  Preston should have understood that. Instead, he’d cut off her arguments against taking over the reins at Ty-Ken and insisted it was his responsibility to run the family business. Marrying Preston would have doomed her to a life of loneliness, no matter how much she loved him.

  Leaving for Key West was the only choice she could make and not feel like she was stepping back into the shadows. She had asked Preston to come with her, but he’d twisted the invitation into an ultimatum. Told her she could have him or Key West, but not both. She’d left that very night and never looked back. Until now.

  “So what do you think?” Preston asked, standing at the window overlooking the ocean. “Everything look the same as you remember it?”

  She nodded. “Yes. My father would be proud to see how well you’ve taken care of e
verything.”

  He looked back out to the ocean. “Nice to hear you admit it. I may not live a lifestyle you care for, but I have protected the legacy your father left you.”

  He’d been curt ever since his little face-to-face with Taralynn, and Maggie didn’t know if it was because that meeting had put him in a sour mood, or if he was trying to make some point. “I suppose you could say in the end you were taking care of your own legacy, since I will no longer have any interest in Ty-Ken when this battle is over.”

  He didn’t say anything. No smartass remarks. No snappy comebacks. She was about to ask why when she heard the door open behind them. Rod Skinner had arrived. And he wasn’t alone. On his arm, he escorted jet set glamour girl, Janelle Tyler Beck.

  Rod looked quite pleased with himself. “Look who I had the good fortune of bumping into getting on the elevator.”

  Janelle, for her part, looked radiant as always. Her auburn hair framed her face in wispy waves. Her make-up was perfect. Her manicure, flawless. The powder blue silk dress she wore conveyed the essence of European chic.

  “Baby brother,” she exclaimed, leaving Rod’s side and rushing to Preston. “You cannot imagine how much I’ve missed having you to boss around.”

  He cleared his throat and, while he did not outwardly blush, Maggie knew the little boy inside him was squirming.

  “I doubt you’ve missed it all that much,” he said. “I’m sure you left your share of trained dogs on the Riviera.”

  She laughed, not seeming the least bit offended by his remark. “Preston, honey, you know me so well.” She then turned and looked Maggie over, as if seeing her for the very first time. “Maggie, it is so good to see you here. You look well.”

  Maggie could tell by the way both Janelle and Rod were staring at her that neither of them was impressed with her choice of attire. Too bad, she thought. She’d made the decision to wear the dress and she had every intention of sticking it out for the entire day.

  She took the pause in greetings as an opportunity to open up the liquor cabinet behind her father’s old desk. If Preston had meant what he’d said about preserving her heritage, there’d be a bottle of soda and fresh-cut limes waiting in the refrigerator. Maybe even a shot of vodka for the end of the day. “Would anyone like a drink while I’m here?” she asked.

  Preston winked. “You should find everything in place there, too.”

  Indeed, she found just what she’d expected. Did he really think he’d been taking care of things just for her? She poured everyone a glass of soda and sat down across the desk from Preston. Meanwhile, Rod, who’d been uncharacteristically quiet for all of five minutes, laid his briefcase on the desk and pulled out a pile of documents, stapled and clipped together into four separate bundles.

  “Rod, you’re one set of documents short,” Maggie observed. “You forgot to make a set for Henry to review.”

  “Henry?”

  A frown crossed Rod’s brow. Obviously, Preston had neglected to mention to Rod that he was getting co-counsel.

  Janelle looked over at her brother, appearing just as curious. “Uncle Henry’s coming?”

  A scowl flitted across Preston’s face and then quickly disappeared. He gestured toward Maggie. “She hired him.”

  “I thought he would make a good addition to the defense team” she immediately supplied. She bore down her gaze on Rod, daring him to disagree with her, knowing full well he wouldn’t dare.

  “That’s wonderful,” Janelle said, breaking the brief, but uneasy, silence that had settled over the room. “I haven’t seen Uncle Henry in ages. I think it will be lovely to have him join us. Rod, why don’t you give me a set of documents and I’ll go make another copy.”

  “Thanks, Janelle.” She had a lot more going on inside than people gave her credit for, Maggie thought. She took a sip of her soda water and turned to Preston. He wore his less-than-pleased look, but didn’t say a thing as his sister grabbed one of the stacks of papers from the desk.

  As if on cue, minutes after Janelle left the room, there was a knock on the door and Henry Tyler poked his head in. “Hello, everyone. Sorry I’m late, but I ran into one heck of a traffic jam on the way in.”

  “No problem, Henry. Come on in.” To his credit, Preston got up and greeted his uncle at the door and pulled up an extra chair for him around the desk.

  “How are you, Henry?” Maggie asked. “Thank you so much for coming.”

  “Anything for you, Maggie, dear.”

  Henry took a seat while Maggie opened back up the liquor cabinet and poured him a soda and Preston made introductions to Rod.

  “Maggie outlined the basics of your plan so far,” Henry said, nodding in the direction of the two men. “I agree that a petition for injunctive relief is a good idea for buying time to mount a stronger defense against the tender offer. But a temporary restraining order is the best I think we can hope for. Ultimately, you’re going to have a hard time winning your case based solely on Clarke Industries’ current financial troubles. You still need to prove a takeover would not be in the best interests of the shareholders.”

  “Oh, I don’t know about that.” Rod looked just as indignant as he sounded. “You’ve never seen me in action before, Henry. I can argue anything to anyone, and persuade them I’m right.”

  Henry appeared unimpressed. He raked his fingers through hair that had gone from partially to fully gray in the last three years. “That may well be, Mr. Skinner. However, I have formulated a few ideas of my own.”

  “Uncle Henry, how lovely to see you again.” Janelle came back carrying two stacks of documents and gave one set to Henry before sitting back down. “I swear you haven’t aged a day since I saw you six months ago.”

  “You always were a charmer, Janelle.”

  “Henry was just about to tell us his ideas for dealing with the tender offer,” Preston said.

  “I thought we were just going to get shareholder approval to amend the By-Laws.” Janelle looked over at her uncle and then to her brother.

  “We are,” Rod spoke up. “But we’re also going to file a derivative complaint against Clarke Industries seeking injunctive relief. Those two things alone should stop the Clarkes dead in their tracks.”

  “Maybe. Maybe not,” Henry said. “And adopting such drastic changes in the By-Laws could strangle you if you ever do decide on a merger in the future.”

  “No one here wants a merger in the future,” Preston said. He cast a cursory glance at Maggie. His annoyance was clear.

  Maggie knew how stubborn Preston could be. Having made up his mind on a strategy, he loathed the idea of changing it, regardless of the opposing arguments. It was a good thing he had asked for her help. “I think your uncle has a good point,” she said. “What would you propose as a defense strategy, Henry?”

  He had been perusing the Minutes and By-Laws Rod drafted, and looked up from the papers, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “The company has already been put into play,” he said. “Now is not the time for reactive measures. If you really want this company, then what you need to do is form your own team and make a tender offer of your own.”

  “Of course.” Henry’s plan was brilliant. And yet so simple, Maggie couldn’t believe she hadn’t already thought of it.

  “That is a good idea,” Preston admitted.

  Maggie noticed his scowl was completely gone, replaced by a look of genuine respect.

  Rod, however, seemed to be almost pouting. “You’ll need funding,” he said.

  “That’s true.” Henry agreed without hesitation. “And fortunately, I’m owed a few favors that could prove very beneficial in that regard.”

  Preston’s gaze turned skeptical. “Like what?”

  Henry loosened his tie and took a drink of the soda Maggie had brought him. “There are only a handful of banks in the world capable of financing a transaction above twenty billion dollars, and I’ve provided legal counsel to high-ranking officers in three of those banks.”

  The si
gnificance of what Henry had just said would be hard to miss. “We’ll be better financed,” Maggie said. “And we’ll be starting off with better capitalization because we won’t have a corporation with sluggish stock prices weighing us down.”

  Preston agreed. “That’s true. Andy Clarke not only needs to finance this transaction, but he needs to keep his own corporation afloat as well.”

  “Exactly. Not to mention you have a lot less stock to acquire than he does. You’re starting off with a very significant advantage in this game.”

  Excitement shone in Henry’s eyes. Maggie thought he seemed pleased Preston had accepted his ideas. In fact, she was pleased herself. She felt vindicated for her belief in Henry, and hopefully, things would all work out for the best now.

  Rod tapped his pencil on the desktop and cleared his throat. “Maybe this idea does have merit. Andy Clarke made the mistake of going for the jugular right away and naming a price he wanted to pay for the stock. That gives us the opportunity of making the shareholders a better offer.”

  “Well then,” Janelle spoke up. “Everything’s settled. Now see, wasn’t that easy?”

  “It’s going to take a lot of legal work to get this counter offer accomplished,” Rod said. “More than just one attorney can handle.”

  Maggie figured Rod was sore his plan had been pre-empted or, more accurately, greatly expanded. But gee, wasn’t it just like him to make sure he got a slice of the pie all the same?

  “Of course you and Henry will work as co-counsel,” Preston said.

  Maggie likened the act to a master throwing his dog a bone. “We just have one more item to deal with then,” she said. “And that’s keeping Taralynn away from the press. She’s going to pull every dirty trick in the book to try and get her way.”

  Janelle smiled a really wicked, killer smile. “You just leave Nicholas Beck to me,” she said. “We may be divorced, but I still know how to make sure he behaves himself.”