Echoes of Titanic

Home > Other > Echoes of Titanic > Page 35
Echoes of Titanic Page 35

by Mindy Starns Clark


  “I most certainly did. I ate some cheese on the subway ride over.”

  “Uh-huh. Like about this much?” He held up his thumb and forefinger an inch apart.

  “No, more,” she replied with a chuckle as she reached up to separate his thumb and finger by several inches.

  Laughing, he evaded her grip and then held his hand up higher, this time showing just half an inch. “This much?”

  Jumping, she tried again to grab his hand.

  “This much?” he teased, thumb and finger almost touching now.

  Finally, she managed to jump high enough to take his hand. To her surprise, as she jokingly struggled to pull his thumb and forefinger apart, he suddenly relaxed his fingers and intertwined them with hers. In that moment their eyes met. Time froze.

  On a busy Chinatown sidewalk, with people milling all around them, Kelsey and Cole simply looked into each other’s eyes, hands clasped, hearts pounding. After a long moment, as if he only just realized what he was doing, Cole gently extracted his hand from hers and took a step back.

  “Sorry about that,” he mumbled. “Let’s go.”

  Turning, he began to walk up the street in the same direction they had come, hands shoved firmly in his pockets. Stunned and hurt and excited all at the same time, once Kelsey recovered from her surprise she followed along behind him. She caught up to him near the end of the block, and they both walked briskly side by side, Cole leading the way and neither of them saying a word.

  She didn’t even know where they were going, but she could tell he had some destination in mind. Silently, she kept up the pace next to him, wishing yet again that she’d thought to grab a few Band-Aids for her blisters. He finally slowed once they reached Tribeca, and eventually he came to a stop in front of a little diner on Church Street.

  “This okay with you?” he asked brusquely, gesturing toward the door.

  “This is fine,” she replied softly, trying not to feel hurt by his complete change in demeanor. Why was he acting this way?

  They went inside, where Cole greeted the hostess by name and asked for a booth at the window. The restaurant was buzzing with chatter and the clink of silverware on china. Smells of bacon, coffee, and toasting bread hovered in the air, stirring up Kelsey’s appetite as they were led to their table.

  “This was a good idea,” she said, sliding onto a bench and focusing on the menu handed to her. “I didn’t realize how hungry I was.”

  Cole sat down opposite her and became equally absorbed in his own menu. It wasn’t until the waitress had come to get their food order and taken the menus away that he finally looked her in the eye.

  “Listen, I’m sorry about that…”

  “About what? About holding my hand? Or about acting like I had cooties afterward?”

  He smiled in spite of himself. “Cooties? What are we, in kindergarten?”

  She shrugged, feeling a little belligerent. “I don’t know, Cole. It feels more like high school drama to me.”

  Looking weary, he ran a hand over his face as he slowly exhaled. “I know. It’s just that I promised myself I wouldn’t…”

  Again he met her eyes, and she could tell he felt genuinely pained. Now she was the one to be sorry. Dropping the attitude, she leaned forward and spoke. “You wouldn’t what?”

  He shrugged. “Rekindle. With you. So to speak.”

  She sat back, suppressing a smile. Leave it to him to find just the right word. Rekindle. That was it exactly.

  She was about to say something flirty, such as, “And what would be so wrong with that?” when she was struck by a disturbing thought. Her smile faded.

  “Are you…You’re not married, are you?” she asked softly. “If you are, then I’m sorry too. I would never—”

  “No, Kelsey. I’m not married.”

  “Engaged?”

  He shook his head. “I was, almost. Engaged, I mean. But it didn’t work out.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “This has nothing to do with anyone else. It’s about us, about our history. I just…it took me a long time to get over all of that.”

  She swallowed hard. “I can imagine.”

  “Then, when I heard about what was happening to you this week, I wanted to contact you, just to check on you and offer my support. I never stopped caring, you know. But I was afraid that if I talked to you again, much less spent time with you in person, I would…” He shook his head, cheeks flushing “I don’t know. I sat and thought for a long time before I picked up that phone on Wednesday. This…thing…between us, Kelsey, it’s always been there, always will be. But that doesn’t mean we have to succumb to it. I offered you my help as a friend, and that’s how I’ll get through all of this and wrap it up once we’re done. As a friend.”

  Kelsey sat there trying to process his words, but he wasn’t making any sense. If there wasn’t someone else in the way, and he was enjoying being with her as much as she was with him, then why not go with it and see what happened? They weren’t a couple of kids in youth group anymore, nor were they naive twentysomethings fresh out of grad school and just starting out in their first real jobs. They were in their thirties now, for goodness’ sake. Clocks were ticking. Life was progressing. They were maturing. Now that they had managed to find each other again, what was to stop them from giving it another try? Surely he could feel the connection they still shared as strongly as she did.

  She was trying to think of a way to put all of these thoughts into words when she realized what might really be going on. As the thought came to her, she could feel her own face flushing with heat. Unable to meet his eyes, she looked down at the table and spoke.

  “For the past few days, there’s something I’ve been wanting to say to you, but the right moment hasn’t presented itself before now. It’s just that…you don’t know how ashamed I am about what I did to you five years ago, how sorry I am for everything. I’m not just talking about undercutting your deal with Lou Strahan. I’m talking about how I acted afterward. Unrepentant. Indignant. Condescending, even. Looking back, I can’t believe how badly I acted toward you. I loved you, Cole. I truly did. I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you, but I was too proud to see my own actions for what they were.”

  Her eyes filling with tears, she forced herself to look him in the face as she continued. “I have always loved you,” she said miserably. “But I have not always acted with love. I don’t blame you for walking away after it happened. I deserved that. But if it makes any difference, at least I have finally seen my actions in all of their ugly reality. And I am ashamed. Ashamed and so, so sorry. I understand why you don’t want to see me that way anymore. I can do the friend thing if I have to, but someday, Cole, I hope at least you’ll be able to forgive me.”

  On the verge of breaking into sobs, Kelsey placed her napkin on the table, grabbed her purse, and slid from the booth.

  “Excuse me,” she whispered. “I need some air. I’ll be back.”

  With that she stood and made her way from the restaurant, blindly pushing her way through the door. Out on the sidewalk, she turned to the right and walked away, not stopping until she came to a wide, square column that she thought might give her a modicum of privacy. With her back to the street and her shoulder to the column, she allowed her sobs to bubble to the surface. Clutching her stomach, all she could do was weep—for them, for him, for herself. At least now she understood the truth. Cole Thornton would never allow himself to date her again because he knew the kind of person she really was. Considering how badly she’d hurt him, she couldn’t blame him for that, not one bit. Not at all.

  A few minutes later she was rooting through her purse for a tissue when Cole suddenly appeared there in front of her, bearing a tissue of his own.

  “This what you’re looking for?” he asked gently.

  Mortified, she took it from him and wiped her face and blew her nose. Once she did, he moved closer, taking her into his arms.

  That act of kindness brought on a fresh round of
tears, but this time as she sobbed, she did so against his broad chest, wrapped in the warmth of him. She cried for a long time, allowing all of the hurt and pain and loneliness of the past five years to come out. She had loved him so much. She had loved him and she had hurt him and he had gone away, and she would never forgive herself for any of that. She still loved him, but it was too late.

  “Shhh,” he cooed finally, offering up more tissues and patting her on the back in a brotherly sort of way. He continued to hold her until she was all cried out. Finally, she just leaned into him silently and held on tight, knowing this was probably the last time she would ever be in Cole Thornton’s arms.

  “You okay?” he whispered.

  She nodded.

  “Good. Why don’t we get you cleaned up? Come on.”

  With one strong arm still around her, Cole led Kelsey back toward the restaurant. When they got there, he asked her to wait outside, and then he went in through the door, leaving her alone. A moment later he reappeared, carrying a plastic bag that held two Styrofoam boxes.

  “I had told her we’d take it to go,” Cole explained as he once again slipped his free arm around Kelsey’s shoulders and pulled her close. “Come on.”

  She didn’t know where they were going and she didn’t care. She just let him lead her down the street as she focused on the solidity of his hold, the warmth of his body, the comfort of his presence.

  They had already been through so much together. At least there was no need for embarrassment or pretense anymore. Now that he’d been honest with her and she with him, there was nothing left to do but be themselves. And if they each had wanted something different to come from this brief period of time they had been spending together, that was okay. She would respect his wishes, he would show her some tenderness despite his resentment, and somehow they would each pick up the pieces and go on.

  If only it didn’t hurt so badly.

  Finally, Cole came to an old, industrial-looking building and stopped, pulling out a key card and sliding it through a scanner at the door. With a buzz it popped open and then they were inside, moving across a bare lobby toward a freight elevator on the far wall.

  Kelsey was quiet as they rode it upward, counting five floors before it came to a stop. Cole slid the cage door open and they stepped into a long, dingy hallway.

  “Where are we?” she asked.

  Again, he scanned his key at a door, and then he swung it open as he replied, “Home sweet home.”

  Kelsey sucked in a deep breath. This was where Cole lived now? Stepping into the broad, open space, she could barely believe her eyes. It was huge and beautiful, the wood floors gleaming, the furniture spare and modern, the whole space warm and welcoming. He closed the door behind them and then led the way to the kitchen area, where he put the bag down on the table and then went about retrieving plates and silverware and napkins.

  “I can’t believe you live in a Tribeca loft, Cole. This is amazing.” She had no idea his business was doing so well. The only people their age who owned a loft in Tribeca were movie stars or sports figures.

  He shrugged, grabbing two glasses from the cabinet and filling them with water from a recessed spout in the door of his stainless steel fridge.

  “Technically, you’re off a little. We crossed Chambers a few blocks ago. This is the upper limit of the Financial District. Trust me. I couldn’t afford a place this big in Tribeca. No way.”

  She smiled at his typical modesty. “So what happened to the old apartment on Twenty-Ninth?”

  He shrugged. “I got tired of having roommates. I cashed in every single investment I had, bought some tools, and used the rest as a down payment on the cheapest loft I could find in a decent neighborhood. Most people seem to think the Financial District is too boring to live in, but I really like the quiet. And with this much space, if I ever get married, at least my kids will have plenty of room to toddle around in.”

  She swallowed hard, the pain of his casual remark like a knife to her heart.

  “You renovated yourself?” she asked once she found her voice.

  “It’s a work in progress,” he replied modestly. “I still have a long way to go. But, yeah, I did the renovating with a lot of help from my friends. And don’t forget that my dad owns a home supply store in the ’burbs. I get most of my materials at cost.”

  “Well, it’s really awesome.”

  “Thanks, Kels. The bathroom is around there, if you want to get yourself cleaned up before we eat.”

  Thanking him, she went where he indicated, once again impressed by the space. The half bath was all beige-and-brown tile, with modern fixtures and bright, recessed lighting. Gazing at herself in the mirror, she was shocked to see how truly awful she looked. Between the raccoonlike mascara smudges and the splotchy cheeks, she had her work cut out for her. Unfortunately, though she usually carried a small makeup repair kit in her purse, all she could find in there now was some lip gloss and an old tube of mascara. At least it would feel good to wash her face.

  A few minutes later, she returned to the kitchen looking a bit better, though her eyes were still swollen and she was in a subdued mood. She was surprised to see that Cole was already at the table eating his meal, a laptop open in front of him. He glanced up as she came in the room and said, “Make yourself at home. I already said a blessing.”

  “Okay. Thanks.” Kelsey took a seat at the table across from him.

  “Sorry if I’m being rude. It’s just that I’m super hungry, but I had a thought and I wanted to look into it right away.”

  Glad for the apology, she said a quick, silent prayer of her own and then nibbled on a piece of bacon as he explained what he was doing.

  “Remember the report I gave you last night and the three scenarios I outlined for you at the bottom? Plan one was to do nothing and hope the stockholders vote in your favor, two was to orchestrate a friendly merger, and three was to buy up enough shares to regain control of the company and stop the hostile takeover.”

  “Right.”

  “Well, considering that option one isn’t likely to happen, we need to focus on options two and three right now—and three will only work if we can find those bonds. In either two or three, we need to take a look at your stockholders. We have to figure out who might be willing to side with you in scenario two or sell to you in scenario three.”

  “Okay, go for it,” she said, still feeling somewhat shell-shocked but knowing there was no more time for matters of the heart. They were in the midst of a crisis, and they needed to return their focus back where it belonged.

  “Two questions first,” he said. “I assume you have voting power for the four percent owned by current employees?”

  “Yes. All employee stock options include terms that grant voting rights to the company for as long as they are employed.”

  “And how about the five percent Gloria owned before she died? Until her estate is settled, do you control those shares as well?”

  She nodded, taking a bite of her bagel and trying not to think how good it felt to have someone else take charge of the situation for a while.

  “Well, then, if you combine that with the shares owned by you, your father, your grandfather, and your brother, it comes to thirty-nine percent. Add Walter’s four percent, and you’re up to forty-three.”

  She sat back, wiping her mouth with a napkin. “Which means I need just eight percent more to gain control and prevent the takeover.”

  “Exactly. So whether you go with scenario two or three, I think our next move should be to look at this list of the remaining stockholders and try to figure out where that eight percent might come from.”

  Cole moved around to her side of the table and sat next to her, laptop in front of them, so they could view the screen together. For the next half hour, they hashed out various possibilities for who might be swayed to vote her way. In the end, they decided to let Walter work on the six percent owned by retired employees of the company and to ask Jonah to do the same with the
four percent owned by more distant relatives of the Tate family. That left two categories of ownership for Kelsey to work on herself: banks and trusts, which held twenty-seven percent, and private investors, with the last twenty percent. The biggest opposition in this situation were the banks and trusts, who weren’t likely to be swayed. Thus, they agreed she would focus on the private investors. God willing, between long-standing relationships she and her father had established in the industry and general goodwill toward B & T, she might be able to convince enough of them to vote her way so that when added to the votes secured by Walter and Jonah, they could gain control in the end.

  Before she started making the many phone calls this was going to take, she decided to contact Lou, just to let him know about scenario two—a friendly merger—and get the specifics of his offer. He sounded thrilled to hear from her.

  “From what I understand,” Lou said, “Queen’s Fleet offered twenty-two million, right? So how about we say twenty-five?”

  She hated to haggle with a man who had been so good to her, but twenty-five was ridiculous. She closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose. Lou was a good guy, but he was also a savvy negotiator—and not someone she’d ever want to go up against in a financial fight. Though it was a risky move, she decided to tell him to take it or leave it. They both knew Pamela’s offer had been absurdly low.

  “Sorry, Lou. It’s thirty-one or not at all. I’m going to have to go to the mat for this with the stockholders, so it needs to be an attractive offer.”

  “What do you mean? Even if I came in at twenty-three, my offer still beats theirs.”

  “You know as well as I do that any stockholder selling less than their full amount of shares will go with the lower offer if it means Queen’s Fleet will be at the helm from here on out. I’m sorry, Lou, but I think they will see that as a much safer long-term investment.”

  “Okay, okay. I understand where you’re coming from.”

  “Are we agreed on thirty-one? Like I told you, I’m working on several different scenarios, so if you can’t make this work, no problem. I’ll just move on to the next approach.”

 

‹ Prev