Mergers & Matrimony

by Leigh, Allison

  “Well, you’ve seen the view—” she nodded her head toward the bank of windows “—so, shall we see the rest?”

  “You have the time?”

  “Actually, no,” she admitted wryly. “I’m in the middle of pulling together month-ends for a certain CEO.”

  His lips lifted in one of his rare smiles. “A tyrant?”

  At that, she did laugh. Softly. The man definitely had a way of surprising her. “An excellent negotiator,” she corrected. “We’ll start here on this floor and work our way down.”

  “And will you show me every nook and cranny?”

  “Every dusty corner,” she assured lightly, and exited the room ahead of him.

  She was painfully aware of the warmth of him as he followed her, which was ridiculous given the circumspect distance he maintained between them.

  They made their way along the corridor, and Helen pointed out each office, stopping to make introductions along the way. She knew it was unaccustomed behavior for him—he negotiated deals at the highest level. He wasn’t one to take note of every employee under the roof.

  But Helen was. That was the way Hanson Media worked now, and Mori might as well learn that fact, for good or bad. And, she was relieved to see, nobody quailed at meeting the big man himself. To a one, her staff members were dignified, professional and welcoming. Unfortunately, David, George’s younger brother, who was in charge of PR; and Evan, George’s middle son, were both out of the office at meetings. “Andrew,” she told Mori, as they passed his empty office, “is with his wife, Delia. Do you remember her from Richard and Jenny’s wedding?”

  “Yes. She is carrying your first grandchild.”

  She hesitated only momentarily, before answering with a smooth smile. The truth was, she didn’t have any expectations that Andrew would want his and Delia’s child to think of her as a grandparent.

  She was just grateful that she was truly happy for Delia, who—at thirty-seven—was carrying a baby when at the same age, Helen had been unable to conceive. She’d been somewhat afraid that she’d be envious of her. Instead, she’d only felt pleasure and anticipation.

  Thank goodness.

  But that didn’t mean Helen was certain that she was ready to be thought of as a grandparent, either.

  They finished exploring the floor and then returned to her office. Mori glanced around, not seeming particularly interested in the furnishings or the view beyond the sparkling windows. He bent slightly and looked at the fishbowl, however.

  Helen had not only sent him a written thank-you for the gift, she’d personally calle,d as well. “The fish was a very thoughtful gift,” she said. “Again, I thank you.”

  “You did not tell me he was your officemate.”

  “Well, I’m here more than I am at home. Captain Nemo would get lonely at home.”

  “Captain Nemo?”

  “From Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea. The book.”

  He straightened. “Yes. I know it.”

  She folded her hands together, hoping she hadn’t inadvertently insulted him. “Shall I show you the rest of our offices? Do you have time constraints?” She ought to have asked that earlier. The man could have a dozen reasons for being in the States that did not concern Hanson Media Group in the least. “Perhaps Evan and David will be able to make a late lunch with us.”

  “My time is yours.”

  A few weeks earlier and she would have found that idea daunting. Now she found it…disturbingly appealing. “All right, then. Back to seeing those nooks and crannies.” She headed out of her office. “Sonia, check David’s and Evan’s schedules and see if we can’t get in somewhere for lunch.”

  Her assistant nodded. “Will do.”

  Satisfied, Helen headed toward the elevator. Mori touched her elbow as they got on, just a slight grazing of his fingertips, and she stopped, looking up at him.

  His faint crows feet crinkled. “I find I have missed our conversations.”

  She couldn’t have moved then if a train had been bearing down on her. “I’m not sure if you’re pulling my leg, or not.”

  He glanced down. “Lovely though they are, I must refrain.”

  The laughter rose in her throat before she could stop it. If a man were to say such a thing to a woman in the workplace nowadays, he’d be accused of harassment. “How fortunate for me,” she returned humorously and managed to keep herself from smoothing a self-conscious hand down her skirt.

  The fact of the matter was, she wasn’t altogether sure she wouldn’t like his hands on her legs. Very much.

  And wasn’t that quite the admission standing in her husband’s office building?

  George is gone.

  She banished the whispered reminder from her thoughts and left the elevator when the doors opened. Mori followed.

  Was he looking at her legs?

  Stop thinking like a schoolgirl.

  She walked a little more quickly, heading toward the print division. His long legs easily kept pace beside her. “When did you arrive in the U.S.?”

  “This morning.”

  She slowed, glancing up at him. “Aren’t you tired?”

  “Not particularly.”

  She found the trip between Tokyo and Chicago exhausting.

  “I am almost a day younger here, after all,” he continued. “Is that not the ultimate quest of the Americans? To find their youth?”

  “But you’ll regain the day when you return home,” Helen reminded. “And I might miss the days when I didn’t…creak quite so much when I get up in the morning, but I can’t say returning to my youth is all that appealing.”

  She pushed through the double doorway and entered a cacophony of voices and computer keys. “Speaking of youth, however, how is your daughter?”

  “Still brown-haired. She sends me e-mail photos of herself wearing the hair decorations you sent. She is most pleased with them. I will forward a few to you if you would like to see them.”

  Helen managed not to smile too widely as she paused inside the doorway. “I would love to. I’m glad she is enjoying them. She was delightful, even with the pink ‘do.’”

  “She looked…common.”

  “She’s only experimenting, Mori. She struck me as incredibly bright and creative.”

  “She can be bright and creative when she is in university. Until then, she needs to focus on her studies.”

  “Never underestimate the importance of education,” Helen agreed. It had taken her longer than usual to obtain hers, but she’d finally put herself through college working nearly any job she could get to pay for her MBA.

  And then she’d met George and her career aspirations had taken a backseat.

  She lifted her arms, encompassing the pack of cubicles and desks and the people who worked at them.

  “The heart of the newspaper,” she said, raising her voice a little. “This is where Hanson Media Group all began.” She continued her stint as tour guide, entering the fray, making introductions and briefly describing each person’s role.

  It had taken her nights of study to learn all the names and responsibilities. But it had been well worth it when she’d been able to knowledgably discuss the staff that first day after George’s will had put her in charge.

  Hanson had endured heavy layoffs shortly after Jack had come on board and discovered the seriousness of his father’s mismanagement. By knowing the people who remained, Helen had been able to earn their otherwise reluctant trust.

  There was still an element of fear underriding most everyone who worked at Hanson Media, but it didn’t have the crews heading for the nearest porthole, ready to desert a sinking ship. They were sticking tight and well, not certain how the entire merger would work out, but willing to wait and give it a chance.

  Mori, she noticed as they finally made their way through the other divisions—even radio, which he didn’t have to show an interest in since that had to be separated from Hanson Media Group before they could become part of a foreign company—seemed much more
approachable than he did walking the corridors of his own castle.

  He just smiled faintly when she dared comment on it once they returned to her office. He’d seated himself in one of the side chairs around the small round table in her office. “If I were to engage in conversation with the salary men, word would quickly spread that I had lost my sanity. I would no longer have their respect.”

  Sonia popped her head in. “David can meet you at Benny’s at two. I haven’t been able to reach Evan. I’ve left a message for him.”

  “Thanks, Sonia.”

  Her assistant smiled and disappeared again, closing the door behind her.

  Helen wished Sonia hadn’t done that. It seemed to add too much privacy to her meeting with Mori. So, she busied herself pouring them both glasses of water from the pitcher Sonia had placed on the table while they’d been touring the building. “How is your mother-in-law doing?”

  “She is well. She is visiting my mother’s home for a few days.”

  “Your two families are close, then? They live some distance from each other, don’t they?”

  “Hai.” His long fingers slowly circled the glass, but he did not lift it. “The Yamamoto and Taka families were the oldest in Nesutotaka. My mother and Sumiko’s mother were like sisters growing up. Sumiko’s mother moved away when she married, however. But they still remained friends.”

  “And they liked the idea of their children marrying?”

  “It was not a sentimental decision,” Mori explained. “Sumiko’s lineage was desirable to my father’s family. TAKA had provided my family with great wealth, but it is the Yamamoto family that once had ties to the emperor. My mother and father’s marriage was decided upon for similar reasons. Each generation has made an advantageous match.”

  “And you think your daughter should do the same, when she’s older.”

  “You have that look of disapproval in your eyes, Helen.”

  She looked down at her hands. She was holding her glass in the same way that Mori was. Only a few inches separated their knuckles. “People, even Americans, marry for all sorts of reasons. But I’m old-fashioned enough to wish everyone would marry only for love.”

  “I think that is more a romantic belief than an old-fashioned one. Even Americans have had arranged marriages, and not so many generations ago.”

  She couldn’t dispute the truth of that. “Well, these days marriage here is so easily entered and exited that I think it takes a deep emotional commitment to make it last. And if the people don’t care about making it last, then what is the point of marrying in the first place?”

  She looked up to find him watching her with that mesmerizing stare of his, and felt her cheeks heat. She laughed lightly. “And if that isn’t getting away from the purpose of your visit, I don’t know what is.”

  “You had this deep emotional commitment to your late husband?”

  She inhaled a little. “I did.”

  His eyes narrowed a little and she knew he’d caught her unconscious emphasis of “I.” But he let the matter pass without comment, for which she was profoundly grateful. “The purpose for my visit was not to tour Hanson,” he said. “Though I did find it enlightening.”

  Enlightening? She stifled her wariness over that particular statement. “Then what is the reason you’re here?”

  “To offer you my apology.”

  Her heart dove right down to her toes. She couldn’t have drawn a breath if she’d been a red flag waved in front of a bull’s nose. “You’re calling off the merger.”

  His eyebrows shot together. “You have gone as pale as moonlight. Drink your water.”

  If she drank, she’d vomit. All these months of maneuvering, of planning, negotiating, of sleepless nights and endless days had been for naught.

  She’d failed.

  He made a sound under his breath and wrapped his hand around hers on the glass, lifting it toward her mouth. “Drink,” he ordered. “I am not, as you say, calling off anything. The acquisition is proceeding.”

  There was an odd buzzing sound inside her head. Water filled her mouth and she swallowed before it spilled over her chin. “Merger,” she mumbled.

  His lips twitched. “Better.” He lowered their hands and set the glass on the table. “Do not faint. I would not know what to do with you.”

  “I have the feeling you always know what to do,” she murmured. She realized his hand was still covering hers, and his fingers felt warm and…comforting.

  She didn’t want comforting. She wanted the merger inked so maybe her life would lose the nightmarish tinge it had developed. “What do you mean by apologizing, then? You’ve done nothing that requires one.” Certainly not something that would necessitate a trip from Japan to offer it.

  “My father does not wish for TAKA to become involved with American business,” he said. “He strongly disapproves of it.”

  “Your father is no longer CEO of TAKA, though. You are.” If Yukio Taka had still been in control, she never would have gone to TAKA.

  “It is not our nature to dishonor one’s father.”

  “Well, I can certainly understand that. And I respect that. But I still don’t—”

  “You will let me continue?”

  She clamped her lips shut and nodded.

  He sighed a little. “My father met with Shiguro on the day that I was unable to attend our scheduled meeting.”

  “When your father-in-law passed away.”

  “Hai. That day. My father convinced Shiguro to try to renegotiate some of our previously approved items.”

  “The number of board seats.”

  “Hai. Shiguro, he is a good man. A good…son. I regret that his good intentions to our father were insulting to you and your associates. Shiguro offered to come here himself, as he should. But it is I who is ultimately to blame.”

  “You weren’t responsible for what your brother decided to do, Mori.”

  “Everything that occurs in the house of TAKA is my responsibility. I wish to assure you that the Hanson seats are unchanged.”

  “Well. I’m relieved to know that we won’t have to battle that out again. It was difficult enough in the first place. Of course, I accept your apology.”

  “Though you find it unnecessary.”

  His fingers were more tanned than hers, the backs of his hands slightly dusted with hair.

  Masculine hands. Strong hands.

  She’d seen him casually wield the sword in his hotel suite. Would his hand be as deft without a weapon?

  She swallowed.

  “Perhaps unnecessary, but welcome all the same,” she assured, casually pulling her hand free of his by reaching for the pitcher and refilling the glass. “It is reassuring to have confirmation that Shiguro’s actions that day hadn’t been at your request.”

  “I do not force my decisions through other parties.”

  “No, you don’t. You say right up front that something is or isn’t acceptable. It’s very honest. I admire that.”

  “Honesty isn’t always a part of business.”

  She shook her head. “Or life.” Then, because that seemed too dreary altogether, she looked at her watch. “We should go if we’re going to catch David at the restaurant. It’s a popular haunt of Hanson people, just a few blocks from here, if you don’t mind walking?”

  “No, I do not mind.”

  She retrieved her purse from the drawer in the desk and after confirming that Sonia had been able to change Helen’s appointment with the real estate broker, she and Mori left the building.

  It was a particularly stunning day outside, just breezy enough to lend a coolness to the day, and a hint of approaching autumn weather. As they walked, Helen pointed out directions for some of the more famous landmarks—the Sears tower, the Hancock Building—and before she knew it, they were entering the dark, cavelike entrance to Benny’s. Several steps down, the light moderated some, and the jazz trio playing in the corner could be heard.

  It was quite unlike any place that TAKA had
hosted them at in Tokyo and she couldn’t help but wonder what Mori’s reaction would be. She spotted David already seated, and wove her way through the closely set tables to him.

  Her brother-in-law stood as she approached and stuck out his hand to Mori as she made the introductions. “David was George’s younger brother,” she told him, even though Mori would certainly be aware of the relationship. “Hanson’s PR department is incredible and it’s all because of David.”

  “Helen gives me too much credit,” David said easily. “We have a great public relations department because we have a great group of people who make it so.”

  They sat and a waitress sidled by, depositing a tray of warm rolls and cold crudités in the center of their table. “Drinks?”

  “Iced tea for me,” Helen said. David and Mori both nodded and the waitress disappeared again.

  “So, Mr. Taka, what prompted your visit to Chicago?” David’s question was congenial, but she certainly knew what he had to be thinking beneath it. The same thing she’d been afraid of.

  “Mostly social,” Mori told him and his gaze was on Helen as he said it.

  Her mouth went a little dry and she wished the waitress would hurry with the iced tea.

  “Well, if you want to see anything of the city, Helen’s your girl. She knows the place like the back of her hand.”

  “Does she?” A faint smile played around Mori’s sharply carved lips. “How…convenient for me.”

  “David is too modest,” Helen countered. “He’s lived here longer than I have.”

  “Maybe,” David conceded, “but I wouldn’t make as entertaining a guide as you. Plus, if you get tired of the typical tourist attractions, you might enjoy seeing the house. George and Helen’s place. It’s considered one of the finest properties in the city.”

  Helen found her gaze trapped by Mori’s. “Then I must not miss seeing Helen’s place,” he stated.

  Forget dry-mouthed. She was dying, purely and simply.

  From somewhere, however, she dredged up an agreeable nod. “I would be pleased to show you my home, Mori.”