The dogs looked up at her, seeming to understand everything she was saying. No dog-sitter today meant all kinds of wonderful things to do. Olivia eyed them suspiciously, knowing they were up to something. Whatever it was, she would deal with it when she got back.
A mighty sigh at the thought of what awaited her escaped Olivia’s lips as she headed for the door—just as the bell rang. She opened it to see a chauffeured limo driver staring at her.
“Yes?”
“I’m David Lerner, your driver. If you’re ready, we can leave now. I have coffee in the car and the morning paper, Ms. Lowell.”
“Oh,” was all Olivia could think of to say. A limo all the way to Baltimore. Well, la-di-da! Coffee and the morning paper. Like she was really going to drink the coffee and take a chance of spilling it down the front of her suit. Like she needed black newsprint all over her hands. She was cranky, there was no doubt about it.
She hadn’t slept a wink. Knowing she’d be out of sorts, she’d told Jeff to stay in the District. She’d gone to bed at eleven and tossed and turned till one o’clock, when she got up and pressed her suit. At two o’clock she washed a load of clothes. At three o’clock she cooked bacon and eggs but ended up giving it to the dogs. At four o’clock, she vacuumed the great room, polished the furniture, and folded her laundry. At five o’clock, she took a shower and washed her hair. By seven she was dressed, made-up, and a bundle of nerves.
Here it was, 7:45, and she was in a stretch limo heading for Baltimore, compliments of Adrian’s Treasures. She had to admit, it sure beat driving herself.
Olivia did her best to relax in the plush seat of the limo. She tried to think about Jeff and the wedding they were planning for the second week in September, but that didn’t work. All she could see in her mind was a long conference table with a group of people eyeballing her, waiting to see what she was going to say about their futures. She wished now that she’d come up with a speech of sorts. Hello and good-bye wasn’t going to do it.
Olivia closed her eyes and thought about all the movies she’d seen where the lead actors conducted board meetings. Usually they were men, with secretaries taking notes. Jeff had said she should just be herself. That piece of advice wasn’t exactly what she wanted to hear. The board members wouldn’t want to see her attitude in regard to Adrian Ames.
She’d called her father before going to bed, but, as had been the case lately, there had been no answer. She was on her own, but for some reason she couldn’t get beyond hello and good-bye in her planned speech. Winging it wasn’t something she was good at, but that’s exactly what she would have to do—wing it. Maybe they’d kick her out. The thought pleased her.
As the miles clicked away, Olivia grew more nervous. She wished she had some chewing gum, something. When she was growing up, her father always gave her a stick of gum when she got nervous over something. Just the act of chewing seemed to calm her. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d chewed gum. She wished now that she had left a message for her father to call her back. Maybe he was out on a charter and his cell phone was off. Anything was possible.
The minutes ticked by. Olivia inspected her manicure and cracked her knuckles, a very unladylike thing to do. She spent a few minutes inspecting her shoes, then another few minutes looking to see what exactly was in her purse. Junk.
Finally, the stretch limo slowed and turned into what looked like an industrial area. Tall eight-and ten-floor grimy redbrick buildings could be seen on both sides of the street. The moment the limo stopped, Olivia leaned forward. “Are we here? Is this the corporate headquarters?” There was doubt in her voice with the question.
“Yes, miss. I’ll escort you inside. It looks quite different inside than it does out here.” The door opened, and a hand reached in to help her out of the car. Swallowing hard, Olivia followed the chauffeur.
She watched as the man pressed a series of numbers alongside an ugly steel door that opened soundlessly. He was right, the inside was beautiful. An atrium stood smack in the middle, the trees and plants lush and beautiful. Off to the side was a black marble reception desk with a neatly dressed middle-aged woman pecking away at a computer. Cozy sitting areas done in bright rainbow colors were welcoming to any new visitor. On one wall was a glass-enclosed guide to the different floors. She moved closer and studied the board. Floor two was New Products, floor three was Returns, floor four was Human Resources, floor five was Legal Services, floor six simply said Adrian Ames. She didn’t get to see what was on floors seven and eight because the chauffeur nudged her elbow to follow him to the elevator.
“We’re going to the seventh floor. It’s the conference area and dining room,” he said cheerfully. “You have ten minutes if you want to freshen up. The lavatory is to the right, the conference room is the second door on the left.”
Freshen up. Oh yes. You bet she wanted to freshen up. Anything to postpone entering the conference room. Anything. Her stomach churned unbearably. She couldn’t throw up, she just couldn’t. Olivia looked down at her watch. Two minutes to go. The hell with two minutes. She marched forward and yanked at the door, almost knocking herself out with the wild swoosh of air she’d created. Second door on the left. She took a great, deep breath, held it for five seconds, exhaled, and walked down the hall. She didn’t hesitate but grasped the knob and opened the door. She didn’t blink at the men and women sitting around the table. Waiting for her.
She took everything in at a glance. The gorgeous spring flowers in the center of the polished teak table, the platters of pastries, the huge silver service on the sideboard with a waitress ready to serve everyone. She wasn’t sure, but she thought she saw linen napkins on the sideboard.
Olivia walked around to the head of the table to the only vacant chair. Twelve people watched her progress. She sat down. Directly in her line of vision was a portrait of Adrian Ames. It startled her. Whoever painted the picture had captured the greed and coldness of the woman. She knew instinctively the portrait was meant to be intimidating. Maybe to other people. Never to her.
Olivia let her gaze circle the table. “Please, everyone, relax. I’m Olivia Lowell, Adrian Ames’s daughter.” She could hear vague greetings of hello, good morning, nice to meet you.
“I really don’t have much to say at this time. I apologize for not coming in sooner but this…It was such a shock. I want you all to know that I do not intend to make any changes. I would like it if you’d notify all the department heads to tell their people that it will continue to be business as usual. I want to assure you that there are no plans to change membership on the board of directors. Nothing is going to change.” Olivia took a deep breath and reached for the coffee cup the waitress was holding out to her. She set it down, looked around, and said, “Well, there is going to be one change. I’m going to implement a bonus program based on years of service to be paid before Christmas. In addition to the bonus program, I noticed that raises fell by the wayside a few years ago, so there will be a ten-percent raise across the board. It will be retroactive to January first of this year. A cost-of-living adjustment will go into effect every six months, January and June.
“If any of you have any questions, ask them now. I probably won’t be able to answer them, but I’ll try.” Olivia looked around. They all looked so serious, so suspicious. Why was that? The bonus program and the raise should have caused some kind of positive reaction.
A woman in a severely cut navy blue suit raised her hand slightly. “Carol Vinter, Human Resources. How do we know you’ll do what you say? Raises have been promised before but didn’t materialize.”
Aha. Adrian Ames was not a beloved boss. “When I say something, Carol, I mean it. I would like the legal department to draw up contracts for all of you. Lifetime contracts with everything spelled out. This might be a good time, ladies and gentlemen, to tell you I am not…I am not…my mother! In fact, I didn’t even know that Adrian Ames was the woman who gave birth to me until after she died. I had been told my mother died when I was born. This whole”�
��Olivia waved her arms about—“thing… has been a bit of a shock to me. When I give you my word on something, it’s sterling. That means you can take it to the bank. I am going to have many meetings with the legal department about turning this company over to the employees. I don’t have the foggiest idea of how that can be done, but it will be done. Not right away, but soon. You can also take that one to the bank.”
Olivia leaned back and reached for her coffee cup. She waited while her audience digested what she’d just said. After a few seconds, they all started to jabber at once. Some were smiling. She drained her coffee cup and held it up for a refill. Suddenly she was no longer nervous.
A fiftyish lawyer stood up and said, “We accept what you propose.”
Olivia smacked her hands together. “Good! Can I go now?” That got a laugh. She stood up, shook hands with everyone, made small talk, then snatched a cinnamon apple pastry. She munched on it as she made her way down the hall. Her voice boomed before she stepped into the elevator. “Carry on!” Damn, she sounded like General George S. Patton. All she needed was a riding crop. She felt just like the general at that precise moment.
Curled up in the plush burgundy-colored seat, Olivia slept all the way back to Winchester.
The dogs greeted her with enthusiasm. She took a few minutes to play with them before letting them out in the garden. While they played, she popped open a cola and changed into jeans, T-shirt, and sneakers. She carried her cola and her portable phone out to the deck, where she called Prentice O’Brien to report on the meeting. She grinned from ear to ear when she heard the stuffy lawyer gasp and exclaim, “You can’t do that!”
“Of course I can do that! I own Adrian’s Treasures, Mr. O’Brien.”
“But the tax—”
“Deal with it, Mr. O’Brien, or I will find someone else who will be more than happy to bill Adrian’s Treasures all those delicious billable hours. I want you to do that raise-and-bonus thing right away. Right away means right away. Like now.”
Power, Olivia thought, was an aphrodisiac all its own. She felt pleased with herself. She leaned back, the golden sun warming her. She dozed off, her dreams full of wedding dresses and lacy veils.
It was four o’clock when pandemonium erupted. The doorbell rang—her four o’clock appointment—and the phone lying beside her shrilled to life. She grabbed the phone on the run, heard Jeff’s panic-filled voice, and knew instinctively it had something to do with Cecil. The dogs went wild when they saw the golden retrievers and their owner standing in the doorway to the studio. Playtime.
“Just a minute, Jeff,” Olivia said, putting him on hold as she stuffed the portable into the pocket of her jeans.
“Mr. Donovan, right on time. Oh, you brought Sonia, Stash, and the pups! Okay, go on into the studio and put whatever costumes you want on the dogs. I think I might have a bit of an emergency here. I won’t be long. There’s a basket of dog treats on the shelf. Help yourself.”
Her heart beating extra fast, Olivia clicked back to Jeff. “What? What’s wrong?”
“You need to be sitting down for this, Olivia. Are you sitting down?”
“Yes, I’m sitting down. What is it, Jeff?”
“My boss just called me into his office. It seems they found a cousin of Lillian Manning’s about twenty-six times removed. He’s coming to town as soon as my boss sends him enough money to get his Harley fixed. He’s going to move into Lillian’s mansion and take care of Cecil. He sounds like one of those biker dudes you see on television all the time.”
Olivia started to sputter. “But…Lillian appointed you as Cecil’s handler. She wanted you to take care of Cecil. It said so in her will. They can’t switch up now. You’re going to fight this, aren’t you? Tell them you want to see bona fide proof that he’s related to Mrs. Manning.”
“If he is, I’m out on the street. As in ‘fired.’ Lillian appointed me because she didn’t think she had any other relatives. If I don’t have a job, we can’t get married, Olivia. Worse than that, we lose Cecil. The legal department is the one who found this guy. He didn’t come to them. He didn’t even know who Lillian Manning was. From what I can gather, which isn’t much, he’s shiftless, no job, just bums around doing odd jobs. Drinks a lot and sleeps even more. He was arrested on two separate drug charges. The investigative report said he’s fathered seven children, all to different women, and pays no child support. He also spends a lot of time in jail. He happens to be roaming free right now. And he’s only twenty-three years old. They’re going to trust him to take care of Cecil!” Jeff’s voice cracked with anger.
Olivia struggled with her breathing. Losing Cecil and not getting married. Talk about a double whammy. Well, that wasn’t going to happen. Not if she had anything to say about it. “They would never give Cecil to someone like that! We’ll go on television and the newspapers. Listen, Jeff, I have a family of dogs I have to photograph right now. Are you coming out this evening? If so, we’ll talk and come up with a plan.”
“Are you kidding! I’m halfway to your house right now. I just cut out the minute the old man told me the news. I’ll see you in a bit.”
Olivia bent down and picked up both Yorkies. She cuddled them close. She swore later to Jeff that they knew what was going on because their little hearts were beating triphammer fast. “Easy, easy,” she crooned. “You’re staying right here. No biker dude is getting his greasy hands on you two.”
Olivia carried the two little dogs into the studio, where she offered treats so everyone would calm down. Her mind a thousand miles away, she proceeded to photograph the beautiful retrievers and their frisky pups.
An hour later, Olivia was on her knees, aiming the camera at the three rambunctious pups, who were squabbling over a ball of bright red yarn. Their owner was laughing uproariously at their antics. The fattest pup bit the littlest one’s ear. He in turn bit the darker-colored one on the tail as they got even more tangled in the red yarn. Sonia and Stash barked, then growled, hoping for obedience. When it didn’t happen, the mother dog took matters into her own hands—or jaws, if you will—and picked up the fat one in her mouth and deposited him next to the owner’s shoes. The father dog picked up the littlest one in his mouth, plopped him on a footstool, and barked, which meant, “Stay put.” The darker-colored one looked around as he tried to untangle himself. When nothing happened, he lay down and went to sleep on top of the bright red ball of yarn. Olivia joined the pups’ owner in laughter.
“That’ll do it, Mr. Donovan. I’ll call you in a week with the proofs.”
“They keep me young, and they make me laugh,” the old man said. “They’re wonderful company. I’m keeping all three pups! The bed’s going to be a little crowded, but what the heck. Once you get as old as I am, you don’t need much sleep.”
“Good for you, Mr. Donovan.”
Olivia handed out more treats, tussled with the older dogs for a minute, then closed the door. She raced into the kitchen, where Jeff was standing by the window. When he turned she could see he was holding Cecil and Loopy. His eyes were bright with unshed tears.
Olivia could feel her own eyes fill up. “We’ll make this come out right, Jeff. If I have to, I’ll use every last cent of Allison Matthews’s money to make sure you get to keep Cecil. That reject is not going to get Cecil. I mean it, Jeff!”
Chapter 23
Jeff hugged the two little terriers close to him as he followed Olivia into the great room. Overhead, the paddle fans whirred softly, late-afternoon sunshine creating a line of sunbeams on the wood floors. Olivia realized that Jeff was so focused on the dogs, he didn’t notice all the fresh flowers sitting on the tables. The fact was, he didn’t see anything, not even her.
“Damage control, Jeff. That’s what we have to do right now. We need to go to the press and the local TV station here in Winchester. The bigger stations, and the AP wire service, will pick it up lickety-split. Cecil is news. We want to show what a great person you are and what good care you give Cecil. You’re young, you
’re good-looking, and you’re stable, with a good job. Forget the fact that people hate lawyers. We’ll pose together with the other dogs, showing what a wonderful life Cecil has. Then when that biker dude arrives, we’ll arrange to have him photographed along with his police record.
“We’ll call the SPCA and every animal organization in the country. The press will eat it up, and people will choose up sides. Your firm is not going to come out smelling real good if they stick with the biker. I think you should go into the office tomorrow to your boss and tell him exactly where you stand in regard to Cecil. You’re not giving Cecil up, that’s the bottom line. He was traumatized when Mrs. Manning died—he’ll be worse if he’s taken away from you. We aren’t going to be shy about telling the press who I am and who Adrian Ames was. With all that money behind us to fight for Cecil, I think they’ll buckle.”
The two terriers whimpered in Jeff’s tight embrace. “Okay, okay, I like the way that all sounds. But, Olivia, don’t we need to know which dog is Cecil?”
Olivia’s voice was soft and gentle. “I know which one he is, Jeff.” She reached out for one of the terriers, who was whimpering the loudest. “This one is Cecil. He understands everything we’ve been saying. He knew there was trouble coming when you called earlier. I told you dogs are smart, and this little guy is at the top of the class. I put a little red mark on his tail with a Magic Marker when we were in the studio. This is Cecil!” she said, holding him out for Jeff’s inspection. “And,” she said, rubbing her nose playfully against Cecil’s, “he’s staying right here with us and his buddies. That’s my bottom line.”
Cecil looked up at Olivia with adoring eyes. He licked her chin and barked.
“See, he understands, and he trusts us. We are not going to let him down. We do have to act fast, though.” Cecil squirmed in Olivia’s arms. She lowered him to the floor, where he scampered off with his friends to do whatever they did when no one was watching.
Fool Me Once Page 24