That’s when she noticed the rolled-up copy of the Dallas Journal of Business and Development gripped in his left hand. He had been holding it behind his back as he stood in the doorway.
Caroline wondered if it was the same copy Margaret had been brandishing. Then again, their office received multiple copies—one for each department. It seemed everyone had seen an actual paper copy but her. Thank goodness she had had time to look it up online to see the picture of herself and her friends...er, business partners. Imagine that—working somewhere that you actually liked and respected your colleagues, and in turn, they liked and respected you.
Her father stood in front of her desk, hulking over her. He was a tall, imposing man with dark hair that had gone distinguished gray at the temples. She had gotten his green eyes, but right now, his were the color of a stormy sea.
Despite his intimidating posture, Caroline was bound and determined to let him speak first, adhering to her first rule of business: he who speaks first loses.
Charles Coopersmith stood staring at her for a long half a minute—which was a long, uncomfortable time in a faceoff.
Finally, he said, “Please explain this.”
He tossed the paper onto her desk with a quick flick of his wrist, as if he were skimming a stone on a glassy lake. It slid across the polished wood surface and landed in front of her, upside down.
She reached out and turned it so that the article faced her the right way. Holding on to the edges, she said a silent prayer that he couldn’t see that her hands were shaking.
“Ahh, yes, this.” She manufactured her best smile as she gazed at the article. “It’s the catering company that my friend A. J. Sherwood-Antonelli started. Pepper Merriweather invested in it, too. We were fortunate to get some rather nice press. It will be good for business.”
“When did you get involved in this business venture? Why did not you bother asking me before you went off half-cocked and made an investment?”
His words stung on so many levels. Did the man not ever hear a word she said to him? Did he have that little respect for her? If he thought her so incompetent, why was he so hell-bent on her stepping into his shoes when he retired in a few short weeks?
“I did tell you. Numerous times.”
“No, you did not. Because I wouldn’t have allowed such a foolish investment. A catering company? Really, Caroline? Investments in the food industry are notoriously risky. I hope you didn’t fork over a lot of money.”
So, it was the cash investment, not the fact that she was baking on the side, that rankled him? A sarcastic retort about his selective hearing was on the tip of her tongue, but she checked herself. She needed to be careful to sound confident but not flippant.
“Well, yes. To be clear, Dad, I’ll bet I brought up Celebrations, Inc. at least a half dozen times. But whenever I try to talk to you about something other than Coopersmith & Bales, you never seem to hear me. This is case in point.”
He furrowed his brow and looked a little confused, but only for a moment. Then he waved away her comment and his gruff stance was back in place.
“I’m too busy for that kind of foolishness.” He leaned forward and slapped his hand down on the newspaper. “Why the hell does the article list you as the pastry chef for this Celebrations, Inc.?”
Okay. Here we go.
She looked at him, locking gazes, reminding herself that she had not done anything wrong. Nothing except let him intimidate and bully her into investing the best part of herself in something she hated doing.
“Because I am the pastry chef for Celebrations, Inc. If you took an interest, maybe you wouldn’t have to learn about things like this in the paper.”
He flinched, as if her back talk surprised him. Really, his shock shouldn’t surprise her, because in the past, she had never had anything in her life worth challenging him over. Before this. She meant no disrespect—he was her father, after all—but it was time she started commanding respect from him.
“You do realize when you are promoted to senior partner, you won’t have time to dabble in foolishness like this any longer.”
Foolishness? He really was clueless, wasn’t he? He had no idea who she was or what made her happy. If she asked him right now, he most certainly wouldn’t have an inkling about what mattered to her in life. What she was passionate about.
It suddenly struck her that he probably did not even realize the author of the article had been the best man in his own daughter’s wedding. How could a man be so good at what he did yet so oblivious in all the other facets of his life that should matter?
If that was what it took to be an effective senior partner, then she definitely wasn’t the woman for the job. Even if it meant that this generation of Coopersmiths would not be represented in the upper echelon at the firm.
“You really don’t know me, do you?” The words escaped before she could rein them in.
“What?” he spat, obviously surprised by her insubordination.
“I said you don’t know me very well, because if you did you would realize that I would rather bake than bank. You’d also realize that despite what you want, I am not the best person to step into your shoes after you retire. I’m not you, and honestly, Dad, it breaks my heart to admit it, but I don’t want to be like you. So, this is as good a time as any to let you know that I won’t be accepting the senior partner position when you retire.”
This time he looked like the one who had been slapped. After a few beats of astonished silence, he changed his tone.
“Caroline, let’s not make hasty declarations here. If you feel as if I haven’t spent enough time with you and you’re not adequately prepared for the job, we can work on that.”
She shook her head. He really did not get it, did he?
“No, Dad, you don’t understand—”
He held up a hand, fending off her words. “Richard is counting on you to come on board. We’ve already have everything laid out. The plan is set.”
“No, I’m not—”
“Shhh!” He held out his hand like a mad traffic cop.
He’d shushed her?
“This,” she said, gesturing at him. “This is exactly what I mean when I say that you don’t hear me when I talk to you. I’m not accepting the promotion, Dad. You and Richard will need to make other arrangements. If you don’t want to tell him, I will.”
* * *
Charles Coopersmith insisted that Caroline take the rest of the day off to think about things. At first, that was the last thing she wanted to do—especially since the day off was mandated by her father and the entire office would probably put two and two together and believe that she had been sent home as a reprimand for the Journal article.
After she thought about it for a while, sitting at her desk, unproductively churning the conversation with her father around in her head for the better part of an hour, she decided to leave and do something more productive. Something that would make her happy.
At first she thought about baking a chocolate pie using rich seventy percent cocoa that had been imported from Belgium, but then she realized there was only one thing that would satisfy her appetite right now.
She called Drew and asked him to meet her at her condo for...lunch.
When he got there and she answered the door wearing the hideous pumpkin-colored bridesmaid dress that had seemed to work its magic the night of the wedding, he just stood there in the threshold, looking at her like she was something on the dessert cart at Manuel’s and he was starving. At least she hoped that’s what his intense, brooding expression meant.
She did not give him a chance to prove her wrong or explain it away. She wrapped herself around him, kissing him hard on the mouth, all lips and tongue and “take me right now” touches.
She wanted to lose herself in him, show him how much she had been aching for him. She wanted to show him with her lips and hands and body how much she had missed the physical pull of their relationship. And while his declaration last night—about how he
wanted to prove to her that she meant more to him than the red-hot love they made—was sweet, she certainly wasn’t going to let one more day go by with them denying that part of their relationship.
They’d proven that they were all that and so much more.
So as she kissed him right there in the foyer, he responded, holding her and touching her and tasting her back. She felt his body respond as he swelled and hardened. She loved the feel of how her curves fit so well with the hard angles of his body. When he moved his hands to her hips, claiming her body and pulling her closer, she arched against him, plumbing the depth of his desire.
“I’ve missed this so much,” she murmured breathlessly. “Please tell me you’re not going to stop us this time....”
He raised his finger to her lips, then he covered her mouth with his, silencing her and answering her question all at once.
His hands were on her breasts, cupping them through the pumpkin satin, teasing her hard nipples. She gasped. Her head fell back and she closed her eyes, losing herself in his touch.
It felt so damn good to be in his arms again, knowing where this was going, knowing that they were so worth the wait.
She slid her hand down the front of his trousers and claimed his erection, teasing him over and over, rubbing and stroking his desire through the layers of his pants.
When he picked her up and carried her over to the couch, kissing her throat and playfully biting down on her earlobe, it was almost more than she could stand.
The thought of making love to him right there in the living room sent a hungry shudder racking her whole body. Suddenly she needed him naked and on top of her so that he could bury himself inside of her.
Now. Right now.
As if reading her mind, he unzipped her dress. She shrugged out of it, letting it fall to the floor, leaving her wearing only the high heels and thigh-high stockings—the only undergarment that she had put on under the dress.
He inhaled sharply at the sight of her standing there and held her away from him for a moment so that he could look at her reverently for a moment.
She reached out and unbuttoned his pants and slid down the zipper, and he moved to free himself of the clothes.
It felt like the first time again—no, better than the first time, because she knew him so well now. She knew that she loved him and wanted to savor this moment of reunion.
* * *
At the rate he was going, if he didn’t slow down, it would be over before he showed her just how much he loved her. So he slowed down, kissing her neck as she undid each button on his blue oxford shirt. When she was done, he shrugged it aside so that it dropped to the floor. In one swift, gentle motion they stood there naked together.
He had not set out with the intention of making love to her. When she had called, he’d been so conflicted about what to say to her—whether to tell her about Bia’s article or to wait. Because the implications posed such a threat to them, he just needed to see her, to try and make some sense of what he should do, how he should handle it with her. And then she answered the door wearing that dress—that ridiculously sexy pumpkin-colored dress—and all reason went out of his mind.
He knew exactly what that dress meant and what she wanted, and damn it, he wanted her, too.
She stood there in front of him in only her stockings and heels, looking sweeter and much more tempting than anything he’d ever seen in his life. How in the world had he been able to resist her?
Well, the only reason was that he’d wanted to prove to her that she meant more to him than the incredibly powerful physical draw they had on one another.
This chemical reaction was an important part of who they were together, but it was a bonus. Since it had meant so much to Caroline to prove that there was more, he was absolutely willing to do whatever it took to make her happy.
He cupped her breasts in his hands and then lowered his head to them. In turn, he took each one into his mouth, suckling them until she cried out. The sound of her pleasure aroused him even more.
Despite the need that was driving him to the edge of insanity, once again, he purposely slowed down, taking a moment to savor how beautiful she looked and to bask in how much he loved her.
He wanted to tell her he would never, ever hurt her. Not on purpose. Never on purpose. As they lay together naked, body to body, skin to skin, she reached for him and kissed him deeply. All at once it was as if someone had turned up the heat. The two of them were all tongues thrusting, hands exploring, teeth nipping—hungrily devouring each other. Until he was sure she was ready for him. Then he buried himself inside her, knowing without a doubt that right here, right now, making love to her was where he needed to be. Because the more he knew about Caroline, the more he realized his life was nothing without her.
* * *
Caroline’s call had been unexpected. After they made love, he’d stayed with her the rest of the afternoon, calling Bia, asking her to handle things while he dealt with some personal things.
Caroline had told him it had been a hectic morning of back-to-back meetings, most of which had run overtime. She had said something about a run-in with her father that she had to tell him about later. She said she did not want to cloud their afternoon. It was clear that she wasn’t herself. So he’d held her as they both dozed on and off, waking to make love again until the sun had set and it was time for them to shower and meet her friends.
He’d pondered what to do with the news Bia had delivered about the crack in the Texas Star case. Since Bia had enough of a lead to work with to pursue an investigative story, Drew had no choice but to recuse himself from the project. His relationship with Caroline muddied the waters and made it a conflict of interest for him to even act as the editor of the project. Making love to Caroline made the muddy waters even murkier.
That meant Bia had to handle the investigation and the editing of any resulting pieces on her own. She had been so giddy that she had done a happy dance right in his office, after which she had promptly apologized for the awkward position in which her good fortune had put Drew.
While he could fully understand his protégée’s exuberance—stories such as this did not present themselves every day, and she was proving herself to have the instincts of a top-rate journalist—this story could have the potential to destroy Drew’s personal life.
He was in love with Caroline. It was as plain and simple as that. And if this piece panned out the way his gut was telling him it would, well...plain and simple, it spelled disaster, despite the fact that he had removed himself.
He took a deep breath and reminded himself that Bia had yet to talk to the folks at Coopersmith & Bales. Before that happened, Drew needed to decide if he would forewarn Caroline, which could put her in a bad position. But then again, if Coopersmith & Bales, one of the nation’s oldest accounting firms, was as clean as he hoped, there wouldn’t be a problem.
Not that he suspected Caroline of dirty accounting, he reinforced for probably the hundredth time that day. In fact, that she had brought up the unrest at Texas Star that night of their first date made him believe she knew very little—if anything at all—about the inner workings of the C & B/Texas Star relationship.
* * *
Drew and Caroline parked on the street in front of the Celebrations, Inc. Catering Company office at seven sharp.
Still, judging by the cars parked on the street and in the small lot, everyone else was already here.
Drew walked around and opened Caroline’s door, offering a hand to help her out of the car. They’d both been quiet on the drive over. As a pang of unease flooded through him, he reminded himself, yet again, that it was still too early to tell Caroline about the Texas Star investigation.
Because if the story panned out to be a big nothing, there was no use in upsetting her.
That was the right thing to do.
Wasn’t it?
Chapter Eight
Drew took Caroline’s hand as they walked up the driveway and around back to Celebr
ations, Inc.’s kitchen door. That was one of the little things she loved about their relationship—the way it was so natural for them to hold hands, as if it were a way to stay connected.
Since they did not see any signs of life in the front of the house—beyond the display in the shop’s plate-glass windows—she figured this surprise business proposition was happening around back.
“Any clue what this is about?” Drew asked. “I mean, am I here as a friend or reporter?”
He shot her a smile that warmed her heart.
“I have no clue,” she said. “I’m just glad you’re here.”
He leaned in and planted a kiss on her cheek. The feel of him so near washed away the residual yuck that had colored her day.
With Drew holding her hand and the big surprise, things would stay on the upward grade. Judging by A.J.’s insistence on gathering everyone, it had to be something real. A.J. was not a drama queen. Now, Pepper would have no qualms about calling an emergency meeting to help her pick out a pair of shoes; Sydney might call a meeting—or more like an intervention—asking her friends to stop her from buying a pair of shoes. But A.J. was nearly as steady and steadfast as Caroline herself.
When A.J. said something was important, it was bound to be important. And though Caroline did not understand why everything had to be so intriguingly clandestine, the big surprise had provided a welcome thought diversion after the face-off with her father.
True to form, he refused to hear what she was saying and insisted on her taking some time to think it over before informing the other senior partner, Richard Bales, that she was abdicating.
Even though her father had refused to accept the fact that Caroline had no interest in abandoning her work with Celebrations, Inc. to sell her soul to the family business, the time-out had given her perspective to see that she really shouldn’t abandon her position at C & B altogether. Celebrations, Inc. was poised on the brink of bigger things, but it might put too much financial strain on the company to expect to draw a salary. She was levelheaded enough to know that she had bills to pay, and since she had tapped into the maximum that she was allowed to draw from her trust fund, she needed the steady income that her position at C & B provided.
Texas Magic Page 8