Perfect Partners

by Jayne Ann Krentz

“Not everyone in the Anchor thought so.” Joel crowded the three into the waiting elevator. “But I'm sure that Victor Copeland made it clear he wanted your expert judgment as a bartender to prevail.”

  “Now, see here, Blackstone, you don't understand what's at stake,” Ed Hartley sputtered.

  “The hell I don't.” Joel smiled.

  The elevator doors closed on the indignant, outraged, and desperate-looking faces of McBride, Hartley, and Jackson. Joel stopped smiling abruptly.

  The three men had come to see Letty. He had caught them on their way out. That meant they had already had their interview and a chance to make a pitch to the softhearted president of the company.

  Such incidents were not supposed to occur.

  That meant somebody had screwed up, and that somebody was named Arthur Bigley. Bigley had apparently forgotten his instructions. People who forgot their instructions did not work long at Thornquist Gear.

  Joel strode down the hall and stalked into Letty's outer office.

  Arthur started at the sight of him and began a frenzy of blinking. “Mr. Blackstone.” Arthur's eyes filled with alarm.

  Joel halted in front of his desk. “I just ran into three people in the hall who were on their way out from seeing Ms. Thornquist.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “I was not informed of their presence in the building.”

  “Uh, no, sir. You weren't.” Arthur clutched a pencil so hard it snapped in his fingers. The pieces dropped on the desk, rolled to the edge, and fell off onto the carpet.

  “Such incidents are not supposed to happen, Bigley.”

  Bigley's eyes filled with tears. “No, sir. I know they aren't. Ms. Thornquist said—”

  “Christ, Bigley,” Joel interrupted in disgust. “Are you crying?”

  “No, sir. I've been having trouble with my new contacts, sir.”

  Joel let that go. “It doesn't matter what Ms. Thornquist said,” he continued softly. “You had direct orders from me, Bigley. You became an executive secretary because you gave me your solemn promise that you would follow the instructions I gave you. Is that not right, Bigley?”

  “Yes, Mr. Blackstone,” Arthur agreed sadly.

  “You have failed in your duties, Bigley. That means I will have to remove you from this position and find someone else who can follow my instructions.”

  “Mr. Blackstone, please, I love this job.”

  “Then you should have done it right,” Joel said.

  The door of the inner office opened at that moment. Letty stood framed in the doorway. She took in the scene before her in one glance, and her eyes narrowed.

  “What in the world do you think you're doing to my secretary, Mr. Blackstone? Get away from him at once.”

  Joel slanted her a cold glance, fully aware that Arthur was darting anxious, questioning looks back and forth between Letty and him. “I will talk to you in a moment, Ms. Thornquist.”

  “You will talk to me right now. And you will cease threatening my secretary this instant. I won't have it.”

  Joel glowered at her. “I have a few things to say to him, if you don't mind.”

  “I most certainly do mind,” Letty said. “Arthur works for me. I will speak to him if it's necessary.”

  “I'm the one who put him into this position.”

  Letty smiled aloofly. “For which I am very grateful. He's doing an excellent job.”

  Arthur sent her a grateful look.

  “That's a matter of opinion,” Joel said.

  “It is indeed. And since Arthur works for me, my opinion is the only one that counts. Is that not so, Mr. Blackstone?”

  Joel was trapped. That knowledge did nothing for his bad temper. “You've been here only a short time, and there are still a few things you don't yet know about running this firm, Ms. Thornquist.”

  “Quite probably, Mr. Blackstone.” Letty smiled sweetly. “Why don't you come into my office and explain them to me?” She stood back and held open the door.

  Joel clenched his back teeth, clamping an iron grip on his raging temper. “I believe I'll do just that, Ms. Thornquist.”

  He went past Arthur's desk without looking down at him. He did not have to see his expression to sense his relief. Nor did he have to get a good look at his face to know that as far as Arthur was concerned, Letty had achieved the status of a minor deity in his eyes.

  Joel was well aware of the ramifications of that encounter. He had just lost his spy in Letty's office. Win some, lose some, he reminded himself. A man had to pick and choose his battles. He had lost Bigley, but there was still a war to be fought.

  He stalked into Letty's office and swung around to face her as she quietly closed the door. “What the hell did McBride, Hartley, and Jackson want?”

  “I'm sure you know exactly what they wanted.” Letty broke off, wincing slightly at the muffled sound of something large and heavy bouncing on the floor in the outer office. “The dictionary he keeps near his typewriter, no doubt.”

  “No doubt.” Joel shoved his fingers into the back pockets of his jeans. “What a klutz.”

  “You hired him.” Letty went around her desk and sat down.

  “A miscalculation on my part.”

  “If you mean because I won't allow you to use him to monitor every little thing that takes place in this office, yes. But that's not Arthur's fault. He tried his best. I, however, have informed him that he now reports to me, not to you. In the end we all have to choose our loyalties, don't we, Joel?”

  “A brilliant observation, Ms. Thornquist. While we're on the subject, why don't you tell me just whose side you're on?”

  She sat back. “Joel, stop raging and tell me the truth about something here.”

  “What?”

  “Are you hell-bent on destroying Echo Cove or would it be enough for you if you could just bring down Victor Copeland?”

  He stared at her. “What are you talking about?”

  “Just answer me. I know you're not particularly fond of your hometown, but does your need for revenge demand that you destroy it?”

  Joel was taken off guard by the question. He realized he had never bothered to separate his dislike for Echo Cove in general from his hatred of Victor Copeland in particular.

  “I don't see that it makes much difference,” he muttered. He started pacing the floor, the restlessness building rapidly in his gut.

  “Look at it this way,” Letty said, suddenly gentle. “If Victor Copeland had not owned Copeland Marine, would you have gone to all this trouble to bring down the company?”

  That stopped him for a second. “No. But it's a moot point. Copeland Marine is his. It always has been. And those three jerks who were just in here don't deserve any pity, believe me.”

  “I believe you. But there are other people to consider.”

  “Such as?” he demanded.

  “What about Angie Taylor?”

  Joel stared at her. “The librarian? What about her?”

  “You don't hate her, do you?”

  “Of course not. Mrs. Taylor was”—he shrugged—“nice to me.” More than nice, Joel realized. She had, without fuss or comment, provided a refuge for him during those dark days after his mother's death. For the first time in a long while Joel remembered the hours he had spent buried in the Echo Cove Public Library.

  “A lot of innocent Angie Taylors are going to get hurt if you go through with your plans, Joel.”

  “Don't get sentimental, Letty. This is business.” But Joel was beginning to feel uneasy. He had always liked Angie Taylor. And maybe one or two other people in town.

  “If Copeland Marine were not the main industry of Echo Cove, would you have gone after the commercial fishing operation that is located there instead?”

  “Hell, no.”

  “Then it's safe to say that your target is Victor Copeland, not the whole town.”

  “Damn it. What is this? An inquisition? I've already agreed with that. It's no secret. But I'm going to bring Copeland down a
nd that's final.”

  Letty studied him for a long moment. “Joel, there may be a way to do that without sacrificing the whole town.”

  Joel stopped pacing and walked over to the desk. He planted his hands on the surface and loomed over her. “You can keep your klutzy secretary, and you can rewrite all the instruction manuals you want. Hell, I'll even let you plan the office Christmas party. But don't even think about getting between me and Copeland. I'm going to break him, Letty. I'll do whatever it takes. If you get in the way, you'll get hurt. Understand?”

  “Yes, Joel. I understand.”

  He glowered at her, aware that something had gone out of her voice; it sounded flat and distant all of a sudden. He realized her lower lip was quivering slightly. He felt like a brute.

  “For Christ's sake, Letty.” He straightened away from the desk and paced to the window. “I've told you how it is between me and Copeland.”

  “I know.” Letty got to her feet. She picked up a file from her desk. “You've made it clear that revenge is more important than any other minor considerations in your life.”

  He gritted his teeth, knowing full well she was lumping herself in with the other minor considerations. “You're too emotional, Letty.”

  “I'm too emotional?” She gave a choked laugh. “That's a joke, coming from you. You're one of the most emotional people I've ever known.”

  That accusation infuriated him. “The hell I am.”

  “Joel, please, no more scenes. I've had enough for today. I want you to take Keith Escott's file and read it. See what you think. If you can get past your highly emotional reaction to his proposal, take a close look at the numbers. Tell me honestly if he's right about being able to save Copeland Marine.”

  “How many times do I have to tell you that I won't walk across the goddamn street to save Copeland Marine?” Joel roared.

  Letty flinched, but she held her ground. She shoved her glasses up onto her nose. “Stop ranting and raving for one damn minute and think. Saving Copeland Marine does not necessarily mean saving Victor Copeland.”

  “Copeland is Copeland Marine.”

  “Only in your mind. It doesn't have to be that way, you moose-brained idiot. Keith Escott could be Copeland Marine.”

  Joel stared at her dumbfounded. “What the hell…”

  “It's true. Just read that report and think about it, Joel. We own controlling interest in Copeland Marine, right?”

  “Damn right.”

  “Then we can kick out the old management and install a whole new bunch of managers. Starting at the top.”

  Joel's brain seemed to have turned to mush. He struggled to grapple with the concept at hand. “Fire Victor Copeland?”

  “Why not?” Letty smiled grimly. “Just as he fired your father, Joel. And then we'll hire Keith Escott to run Copeland Marine.”

  Joel shook off the cobwebs. “It won't work.”

  “You may be right. But you won't know that for certain until you read Keith's five-year plan summary, will you?”

  “Give me one good reason why I should read this management plan, Letty.”

  “Because I'm asking you to read it.”

  He eyed her sharply. “Are you threatening me in your own unsubtle way? Are you telling me you won't sleep with me unless I read it?”

  She gave him a brittle smile that did not conceal the hurt in her eyes. “Of course not, Joel. You said yourself just this morning that I would never be able to use our personal relationship to manipulate you when it came to business.”

  “Letty, I didn't mean—”

  “You also made it quite clear a minute ago that you intend to have your revenge even if it means hurting me. I know exactly where I stand in all this. I have no illusions about being able to influence you just because we're involved in an affair.”

  “Damn it, Letty…”

  “Try to read Keith's proposal with an open mind.” Letty got to her feet and went to the door. “Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going down to the third-floor conference room to pitch a tent.”

  Arthur looked up as she went past his desk. He blinked several times.

  Letty smiled at him. “You know, Arthur, I've been thinking,” she said. “I'm going to look into changing your title from executive secretary to executive assistant.”

  “Executive assistant.” Arthur looked stunned. Tears trickled down his cheeks. “Thank you, Ms. Thornquist. You won't regret this, I swear it.”

  “It occurs to me,” Letty continued smoothly, “that your glasses would be more suitable to the new image. They gave you a certain sophisticated—one might even say, aggressively corporate—look.”

  “I'll start wearing them right away,” Arthur said quickly. “I've been having a lot of trouble adjusting to contacts.”

  14

  He's a very passionate man, Dad. Very emotional.” Letty lounged in the hearthside easy chair across from her father and gazed into the flames. She was waiting for Stephanie to emerge from the bedroom. They were scheduled to attend a class on infant development tonight.

  “I'm surprised to hear that.” Morgan frowned. “Blackstone struck me as the consummate business executive. Very cool and clear-headed.”

  “He is, when he's not emotionally involved.”

  “I must admit I did question that aspect of his character last night when he showed up at the door looking for you. The odd thing is, he seems to think you're the emotional one.”

  Letty shot her father a quick glance through half-lowered lashes. “He said that?”

  “Yes, he did. He's concerned about your association with Dixon, you know. Thinks you're in danger of being swept off your feet.”

  “Oh, that.” Letty switched her gaze back to the flames. “I know. He's afraid I'll turn Thornquist Gear over to Philip.”

  “I assured Joel that you would make the right decision regarding Dixon,” Morgan said calmly. “Speaking of the good professor, where is he these days? I half expected to get a call from him. After all, we were nodding acquaintances when I was at Vellacott.”

  Letty frowned. “I've been wondering about that myself. I fully expected him to waltz into my office sometime today and tell me that he's got some brilliant new scheme to expand Thornquist Gear.”

  “Not like him to vanish like this after coming all this way to see you.”

  “Frankly, I hope he stays vanished.” Letty leaned her head back against the chair cushion. “I've got enough problems on my hands.”

  “You'll handle them just fine, my dear.” Morgan sounded calmly certain of that. “Just keep all the elements of the situation in a clear and logical perspective. It might help if you make up a decision matrix before you draw any conclusions.”

  Letty arched her brows. “How do you propose I include the fact that I'm having an affair with Joel Blackstone in my decision matrix, Dad? How do I weight the importance of that? Shall I give it a factor of two or five?”

  Morgan frowned. “What's this? You're intimately involved with Blackstone?”

  “Yes.” Letty was curious to see how her father would react to the news.

  “I had not realized that.” Morgan fixed her with a serious expression. “Do you think that's wise, Letty? There are several delicate financial matters at stake here.”

  Letty's mouth curved wryly. “Tell me about them.”

  “Well,” said Morgan, obviously intent on doing just that, “there is, first and foremost, the question of the ownership of Thornquist Gear. Then there is the issue of the actual control of the company. Ownership and control are not necessarily the same thing, Letty. On top of that, there's Dixon's presence on the scene—”

  “Dad, stop. I didn't really want a list of all my problems. I know what's at stake.”

  Morgan nodded wisely. “Yes, of course. I should have realized you were well aware of the situation. Nevertheless, it's been my observation that emotional involvement does not mix well with business matters. Especially when the business at stake is as large as Thornquist Gear.
”

  “I agree with you, Dad. But I seem to be stuck in the situation.”

  “I refuse to believe that you cannot control your emotions better than that, Letty. I've trained you to think clearly and logically, regardless of your personal feelings.”

  Letty wrinkled her nose. “That gets boring, Dad.”

  “Letty, this is not a joking matter.”

  “I know,” Letty murmured. “I'm sorry. I guess I'm asking for advice.”

  “My advice is to do what I have trained you to do,” Morgan said firmly. “Step back from the situation emotionally and make a logical decision matrix.”

  “I'll try that, Dad.” Letty slumped in her chair, glumly aware that she was in too deep to make a rational, unemotional, logical decision about anything that involved Joel Blackstone.

  “I'm ready,” Stephanie said as she came down the hall. “Shall we go, Letty? It should be a very interesting class tonight. Dr. Marklethorpe is a renowned expert on infant and early childhood development. He's done some important research on psychological and motor function in the first six weeks of life.”

  “His own life or someone else's?” Letty asked blandly. When she saw the grimness in Stephanie's eyes, she regretted the words. As usual. “Sorry. A poor joke.” She got up. “Let's go or we'll be late.”

  “Drive carefully,” Morgan called after the pair. “Oh, and Letty?”

  “Yes, Dad?”

  “Don't forget to make that matrix. When you do, I think you'll discover that an emotional entanglement with Joel Blackstone is probably not the wisest move at this particular point.”

  “Yes, Dad.” Letty stifled a sigh as she followed Stephanie out the door. Easy for you to say, she thought.

  Outside in the car Stephanie glanced at her. “You're involved with Joel Blackstone?”

  “Sort of. Yes.”

  “Do you think that's wise, Letty?”

  “No.”

  “Then why are you doing it?”

  “It just sort of happened,” Letty said.

  “Nonsense. I know your father. You've been raised with better self-control than that.”

  “Okay,” Letty said, feeling goaded. “I wanted it to happen.”

  Stephanie switched on the Porsche's ignition. “Is this a physical thing?”