Perfect Partners

by Jayne Ann Krentz

  He had never realized how good it could be until he met Letty.

  A long while later he felt Letty stirring beneath him. Joel raised his head and looked down at her. He smiled at the smug contentment on her face.

  “You okay?” he asked softly.

  Her fingertips traveled in a clever little path over his shoulders and down his arms. She stretched languidly. “I'm okay.”

  Joel realized he had been hoping for a bit more of a response than that. So much for the old ego.

  “Yeah. Well, good,” he said. “I'm real glad it was okay for you.”

  She giggled and pushed at his shoulders. Joel obligingly rolled to one side and then onto his back. Letty came down on his chest, eyes glittering.

  “You crazy man. You know perfectly well that was an absolutely fantastic experience. Joel, I feel so free.”

  “Yeah?” He enjoyed the feeling of her breasts pillowed on his chest. “You didn't feel free before?”

  “Not like this. I feel as if the real me has been trapped somewhere deep inside myself for years.” She kissed him soundly. “How do you do it?”

  He grinned. “I don't do it. You do.”

  “I wasn't able to do it before you.”

  He touched her full mouth with his fingertips. “You just didn't have the right kind of mentor before now.”

  Instead of laughing or poking him in the ribs as he had expected, Letty turned unexpectedly serious. “You know something? You may be right.”

  “Hey, that was a joke, damn it.” He caught her head between his hands and forced her to focus directly on his eyes. “Don't go getting the idea it'll work like this with just any man now.”

  “It won't?” She gave him a look of innocent inquiry.

  “No,” Joel said with grave authority. “In fact, I can assure you that without my personal touch, it won't work at all.”

  “You're sure of that?”

  “One hundred percent positive.”

  “Hmm.”

  “Letty?”

  “Yes, Joel?”

  “Stop wriggling. I'm exhausted and I need time to recover.”

  That got her attention. “How much time?”

  “Why? You in a hurry?”

  She slithered around a bit. “I think so. Yes. I'd like to run a little experiment.”

  He grinned up at her. “Let me guess. You want to be on top, right?”

  “Uh-huh.” She levered herself up into a sitting position and squeezed him with the insides of her thighs. “You just lie back and recover while I try a few things.”

  Joel groaned as he felt the beginnings of his own response. It was not possible, he thought. Not so soon. But he could hardly argue with the evidence. Letty smiled with ancient feminine wisdom as he began to stir beneath her. Then she bent her head to brush her mouth lightly across his.

  “You know something, Letty?”

  “What?”

  “Your father doesn't understand you at all.”

  She raised her head, eyes curious. “What's that supposed to mean?”

  “Nothing. Never mind. Forget it. Kiss me, boss.”

  No, Joel thought, Morgan Thornquist did not have a clue to what made Letty tick. The lady was as emotional and passionate as hell.

  “It isn't going to work, you know.” Joel slathered real butter on the last of the biscuits Letty had made for breakfast. He popped the morsel into his mouth and chewed with obvious pleasure.

  “What isn't going to work?” Letty stacked dishes in the sink. She was still adjusting to the novelty of having a man present at breakfast. Philip had never stayed the entire night. It occurred to her that the intimacy of her relationship with Joel was already several quantum leaps ahead of what she had experienced with Philip.

  “You won't be able to keep our relationship a secret at the office for long. Are you sure that was the last biscuit?”

  “Yes, I'm sure.”

  “Too bad. They sure were good. Do people eat like this every morning back in Nebraska?”

  “Indiana. And, no, they don't. Usually we eat cereal like everyone else. Joel, what did you mean about us not being able to keep our relationship secret?”

  He shrugged and picked up his coffee mug. “Just what I said.”

  She glowered at him in warning. “I feel very strongly that it would be extremely inappropriate if the staff of Thornquist Gear found out you and I had a personal relationship outside the office.”

  “You mean if they found out we're sleeping together? I don't see that it would be any big deal. People would talk for a while and that would be the end of it.”

  “It would be embarrassing, tacky, and bad for office discipline.”

  Joel grinned. “You're the one who spilled the beans while we were in Echo Cove, remember? You gave Escott the distinct impression you and I were involved. I think that was how he put it.”

  “I did that in the heat of the moment and you know it. I was upset about the fight, and I wanted to assure him nothing was going on between you and Diana. I spoke in haste. Thank goodness Keith is a gentleman. I'm sure he won't say anything.”

  “Don't bet on it. Escott's trying to save Copeland Marine. If I were in his shoes, I'd use whatever tools I could find.”

  Letty leaned back against the sink. “I don't see how he could possibly use that information.”

  “Don't be an idiot. Escott is already trying to use it.”

  “How?” Letty demanded.

  “He gave you that file because he's hoping you'll intercede on his behalf. He sensed you were the more vulnerable one, and he figures if you're sleeping with me, you might be able to influence me.”

  “Could I?” Letty held her breath.

  “Not when it comes to business.” Joel glanced at his watch and got to his feet. “You ready to leave for the office?”

  Damn him, Letty thought. He did not have to sound so coolly certain that she could not influence him with sex. He was no iceman. She knew that for a fact.

  Joel Blackstone was a deeply sensual man. And she was turning out to have unplumbed depths in that department herself. He should not be quite so certain of his own resistance.

  “I'm ready,” Letty said.

  “Let's get going. By the way, if Dixon shows up today, tell him to get lost.”

  “I'll try. But to be perfectly honest, I think it's going to take some doing to discourage him. You may have noticed he's a bit pompous. Very sure of himself. He's accustomed to holding forth in the classroom, and he's used to being deferred to as an outstanding management consultant. Heck, he's used to being deferred to, period.”

  Joel took her coat out of the closet and held it for her. “If you can't get rid of him, have Bigley call me. I'll take care of it.”

  “You can't just throw him out onto the street, Joel.” Letty stuck her arms into the thick down jacket and was instantly swallowed whole. “He's a highly respected authority in his field. He's written a number of very well received papers on modern business management theory, you know.”

  “Get rid of him, Letty.” It was an order.

  “Sometimes I think you forget who works for whom around here, Joel Blackstone.”

  “You can remind me of my rightful place later on tonight. In bed.”

  Letty's office was blessedly free of intruders when she walked into it a short while later. Arthur brought her a cup of coffee and hovered in the doorway, blinking.

  “Mr. Manford from Marketing has the revised instructions on the new Pack Up and Go tent for you to approve. He's wondering if you intend to run another field test before signing off on the manual.”

  “Yes, I think that would be best. Set up a time for us to meet in the third-floor conference room. Tell him to bring the tent.”

  “Got it. Can I get you anything else, Ms. Thornquist?”

  “No, thanks, Arthur.” Letty opened her desk drawer and pulled out the file Keith Escott had asked her to read. She thought of Philip Dixon. “If Professor Dixon calls, tell him I'm busy, wil
l you?”

  “Sure thing, Ms. Thornquist.” Arthur closed the door.

  Letty opened Keith Escott's five-year plan for Copeland Marine and started reading.

  An hour and a half later, she acknowledged she needed an expert to interpret some of the intricacies of Keith's plan, but she was convinced he deserved a full hearing. It was abundantly clear that Keith was sure he could put Copeland Marine back on its feet if he was given the freedom and the time to do it.

  Letty toyed with a pen as she gazed across the room and wondered how to approach Joel on the delicate subject. He was going to come unglued if she ordered him to give the plan a fair examination.

  Arthur's voice on the intercom interrupted Letty's thoughts. He sounded more anxious than usual.

  “Ms. Thornquist? There are some people here to see you.”

  “People?”

  “They say they're a delegation from Echo Cove. They want to talk to you.”

  Letty stared at the intercom. Her first thought was that Joel was going to be furious. But she could hardly send them home without listening to what they had to say. “Send them in, Arthur.”

  The door opened a few seconds later and Arthur ushered three men into the room. One of them was Stan, the bartender at the Anchor.

  “Mr. Stan McBride, Mr. Ed Hartley, and Mr. Ben Jackson,” Arthur said, consulting his notes.

  “Thank you, Arthur.” Letty rose to shake hands with the three men.

  Arthur blinked rapidly. “Uh, should I notify Mr. Blackstone's office, Ms. Thornquist?”

  Stan spoke up quickly. “We came to see you, ma'am. If you don't mind.”

  “That's right,” Ben Jackson, thin and balding, put in eagerly. “We wanted to talk to you, ma'am. You're the president of this company.”

  Ed Hartley, a gloomy, long-faced individual, nodded sadly. “That's right, Miss Thornquist. We just wanted to have a few minutes of your time, if you don't mind. This is awful important to us.”

  Letty looked at Arthur. “I'll notify you if I need Mr. Blackstone's assistance.”

  “Yes, Ms. Thornquist.” Arthur backed out of the room, looking distinctly skeptical.

  It occurred to Letty that her secretary might go right ahead and call Joel's office anyway. Arthur's loyalties were definitely divided, and there was no denying it was Joel who had put him into this exalted new position. At Thornquist Gear, everyone aimed to please Joel.

  “Excuse me a minute, gentlemen.” Letty walked to the door and stepped into the outer office. She closed the door behind her.

  “Arthur,” she said quietly, “I want it understood that I meant what I said in there. Do not call Mr. Blackstone's office unless I specifically request you to do so. Is that quite clear?”

  Arthur jumped and hastily tried to replace the receiver, which he had just picked up. The instrument missed the cradle and crashed on the desk top. “Yes, Ms. Thornquist.”

  “Good.” Letty smiled coolly. “I want you to understand that, while it's true Mr. Blackstone promoted you into this position, I am the only one who can make certain you get to keep it. I would not be at all pleased to find out that you felt you owed your first loyalties to another executive down the hall.”

  Arthur blinked in obvious horror at the situation in which he found himself. “But Mr. Blackstone said I was to keep him completely informed of everyone who comes and goes in this office.”

  “I will see that Mr. Blackstone is kept informed of whatever he needs to know.” Letty walked back into her office and closed the door. She smiled at the three determined-looking men from Echo Cove. “Now, then, gentlemen, why don't you tell me why you've made this trip to see me?”

  They all started to talk at once, stumbling over each other's words. Ed Hartley, the glum one, finally took the lead. He passed a hand over his head in a gesture he had no doubt developed years earlier when he had hair.

  “The thing is, Miss Thornquist,” Ed said stiffly, “we've all realized just what's going on between Thornquist Gear and Copeland Marine. Now, none of us works for Copeland directly, but there's no doubt we're all going to get hurt if Copeland Marine is closed down. I run the main grocery store in town, and I can tell you up front that most of the people who buy food in my store get their paychecks from Copeland.”

  Stan McBride grimaced. “And like I told Blackstone that night he got into it with Mr. Escott, I'm in the same boat as Ed here. I'll be plumb out of business if Copeland goes under, and that's a fact. Ninety percent of the guys who come into my place after work are coming from the yard.”

  Ben Jackson nodded his head. “I run the bank on Main Street. Maybe you saw it while you were in town? I can tell you for certain that if Copeland gets shut down, the financial lifeblood of Echo Cove is going to dry up. It's true some people work for the commercial fishing outfit that operates out of the marina, but that business just isn't big enough to support the place. Copeland's checks pay the bills for nearly everyone in town.”

  “What we're trying to tell you, Miss Thornquist, is that we don't want Copeland closed.” Ed Hartley looked at her beseechingly. “We all know Victor Copeland ain't the nicest guy to come down the pike in recent memory, and we also know that he was a little rough on Blackstone a few years back. But heck, that's the way it goes, you know? Like it or not, Echo Cove needs Copeland and it needs Copeland's firm.”

  Letty folded her hands in front of her on the desk. “You're asking me to find a way to save Copeland Marine?”

  “More like we're pleadin' with you, Miss Thornquist,” Stan said. “I know there's some bad blood between Blackstone and Copeland, but we're talkin' about a whole town goin' under here.”

  Letty looked at him. “You do realize that what is happening to Copeland Marine would not have happened if the company had not been badly managed for the past few years, don't you?”

  Stan shrugged helplessly. “I'll admit I don't know what Copeland's been doing with the firm. That's his business.”

  “He's run it into the ground,” Letty murmured.

  Hartley pinned her with an anxious glance. “But couldn't you get things sorted out? Or at least give Copeland a little more rope so's he can sort 'em out?”

  “I don't know,” Letty said honestly. “The only thing I can tell you at the moment is that I'm looking into the situation. And that's all I'm free to say.”

  Stan immediately looked more hopeful. “That's what we came here to ask, Miss Thornquist. Just take a second look and see if you can't find a way to give Copeland another chance.”

  Joel took the stairs two at a time and pushed open the door that led to the fourth-floor hall. As he walked toward his office, he frowned down at a report he had picked up in Accounting. The new cost-cutting measures he had approved last quarter were starting to take effect. He was pleased. He decided to show the report to Letty. It would be educational for her to see how costs were controlled in a company the size of Thornquist Gear.

  Hell, maybe he'd show them to her in bed tonight. He grinned to himself.

  Joel was whistling tunelessly as he turned the corner in the hall and saw the three familiar faces clustered around the elevator. He halted abruptly as realization and anger erupted simultaneously. It did not take any great mental calculations to figure out what Stan McBride, Ed Hartley, and Ben Jackson were doing in the hall outside Letty's office.

  “What the hell do you three think you're up to?” Joel asked coldly as he went toward them.

  Stan shifted uneasily. “Hello, Blackstone. We just saw Miss Thornquist.”

  “If you're hoping she'll save Copeland Marine for you, forget it.”

  Ed Hartley, who looked just as woebegone as he had fifteen years ago, straightened his slumped shoulders. “We got a right to take our case to the owner of Thornquist Gear. We're fighting for our lives, Blackstone.”

  “No shit?” Joel smiled thinly. “And you want me to do you a favor and keep Copeland afloat for you, is that it? I seem to recall the day my old man went down to your grocery store, Hart
ley, and asked for a little credit. We were in a real bind trying to pay off Mom's hospital bills. We needed some time. Remember what you said that day, Hartley?”

  Ed Hartley turned a mottled shade of red. “Christ Almighty, that was a long time ago, Joel. Your pa was two months behind as it was. I couldn't let him string it out any further. I had my own bills to pay. It would have been bad business to extend any more credit.”

  Joel nodded. “Sure, Hartley. I know just exactly what sort of position you were in. It would have been bad business to give my family a little help at a bad time. I'm sure you can understand that it would be real bad business for Thornquist Gear to give Copeland Marine any help now. Can't go around throwing good money after bad.”

  Ben Jackson scowled nervously. “You hold a mean grudge, Blackstone. That all happened damn near twenty years ago. Can't you let bygones be bygones?”

  “Which bygones do you suggest I forget, Ben?” Joel switched his gaze to Jackson. “The five hundred dollar loan you wouldn't give my father when he went down to your bank, hat in hand? He needed that money to pay for the funeral expenses for Mom. I knew better than to go to you for a loan when I needed help paying for his funeral. I realized you'd turn me down, just as you did him.”

  Jackson looked affronted. “Now, see here, Blackstone. Your father was up to his eyeballs in debt when he came to see me. No way could I justify a loan to a man in his position. No smart banker would have done it. I had responsibilities to the board.”

  Joel punched the elevator call button for the men. “No smart executive in my position could justify keeping Copeland Marine alive any longer. I'm sure you gentlemen understand. You're all businessmen, after all.”

  “Come on,” Stan McBride said desperately. “Think about what you're doing to your hometown, Blackstone.”

  The elevator arrived. Joel held the doors open politely. “I do think about it, Stan. I think about it a lot. The same way you must have thought about what you were doing the night you swore to the cops that my father was too drunk to drive the night he left the Anchor and drove off a cliff.”

  “He was drunk, damn it.”