Gentle Persuasion

by Cerella Sechrist

  “Dane, listen to yourself. Think about what you’re doing—you’d be giving everything up. Everything.”

  “Not you. I’d still have you.” He reached up to wrap his palm against the back of her neck and leaned his forehead into hers. “Please, Ophelia. Let me come with you.”

  He could feel her tears falling onto his own cheeks.

  “You would hate me,” she whispered. “Maybe not at first, but eventually...it would change everything.”

  “No. It wouldn’t.”

  “It would.” She pulled back to meet his eyes.

  “You love me.”

  She didn’t deny it.

  “Tell me you don’t love me.”

  “I can’t,” she said, the tears continuing to well in her eyes. “But, Dane, I can’t ask you to do this, either.”

  “You asked Cole,” he pointed out.

  “It wasn’t the same. It’s because I love you that I can’t ask you to do this. You can’t give up on the plantation, not for me.”

  “Ophelia.”

  She shook her head, and he held her all the tighter.

  “Then what happens next?”

  “I’ll go to Paris, and you...” She sniffed. “You’ll do what you came here to do and then, in another few years, you’ll retire again to run your coffee plantation, which will be known all over the islands as one of the best farms in Hawaii.”

  “And where will you be when that happens?”

  She frowned and finally pulled out of his arms.

  “Ophelia.” He said her name again.

  “I have to go, Dane.”

  He watched her for a long moment before she turned to leave.

  “Ophelia.”

  She turned back.

  “It was a pleasure.”

  It might have been his imagination, but it looked as if fresh tears rose into her eyes just before she turned away and hurried down the sidewalk.

  * * *

  WHEN DANE TURNED to reenter the restaurant, he found Bianca Towers standing several yards away.

  “That was painful to watch.”

  He felt a prickling of irritation, knowing he and Ophelia had had an audience.

  “No one asked you to,” he stated.

  “I know. I’m sorry. But I couldn’t leave.”

  He gestured toward Indigo’s entrance. “Did the party break up?”

  “Oh, it’s a whole roomful of awkward in there. I already asked for the car to be sent around. I don’t think you want to go back inside.”

  “Cole’s licking his wounds?”

  “Lillian is doing damage control. Maybe you were right, about not feeling sorry for her. I don’t envy Ophelia Reid. My mother may be a raging alcoholic, but at least she’s not trying to control every aspect of my life. I have a board of directors for that.”

  Her dry tone caused him to smile despite the lingering ache in his chest. “But you’re handling them like a pro.”

  She gave a little bow and just then, their town car pulled up to the curb. Dane took care of tipping the valet before he slid behind the wheel. He drove in silence, even as he felt Bianca’s eyes occasionally studying him.

  “Is it true?” she asked after a while. “About your plantation? Is that really your dream?”

  He glanced her way. “You didn’t know that?”

  She looked out the window of the passenger’s side. “I didn’t think you’d be that serious about it.” She turned to study him again. “It’s a big change from what you used to do.”

  “That’s exactly why I love it.” Perhaps he shouldn’t have been speaking so freely in front of his young boss, but after the conversation he’d just had—the loss of yet another dream—he no longer had the energy to be tactful.

  “So why give it up?”

  He focused his attention on the road. “I needed the money.”

  “Oh.”

  In a family like hers, he couldn’t imagine that money was ever an issue.

  “So...it wasn’t because you wanted to work for me?”

  He hesitated, uncertain how to respond to this. Suddenly, Bianca laughed.

  “I’m just teasing you, Dane. It’s okay. Only...I’m sorry.”

  “You’re sorry?” He knew his tone was incredulous.

  “I am. Is that so hard to believe?”

  “Why should you be sorry?”

  Bianca shrugged. “I didn’t think about it—about you having to leave behind your own life to come here. I guess it was selfish of me, but you’ve actually really helped me.” She drew a breath. “For a long time, all I’ve wanted was to contribute to the family business. I guess that was my dream, but the board of directors seemed pretty determined to push me out.” She looked at him. “Your coming here made all the difference.”

  “Someone once told me that no one should be bullied into giving up on their dreams.” He felt a pang in his stomach, missing Ophelia all over again.

  “Wise words,” Bianca agreed.

  They rode in silence for several minutes more.

  “Bianca,” he began and then stopped.

  He felt her eyes on him, and he tore his attention briefly from the road to look at her face. She was young, ambitious and eager to take on the world around her. She reminded him of himself, so many years ago. But he wasn’t that person anymore. And New York was not his home.

  “I want to go back to Hawaii.”

  He looked back at the road before he could witness her reaction.

  “What, for like, a visit? To check up on things?”

  “No.” He felt his stomach twist itself into a knot at the same time he felt the burden lifting from his shoulders. “No, I want to go back...for good. It’s my home now. The people there, they’ve become my family.”

  She fell silent, and he didn’t at first have the nerve to look her way. When he did, she was staring out her window again.

  “I’m sorry, but I can’t do this.”

  “You signed a contract,” she reminded him, her words accusatory. “You asked me to double the bonus, and I did. You took the money.”

  “I know.”

  Silence descended between them until Dane finally flicked on the car’s four-way flashers and pulled to the side of the street. He turned to face her, but she presented him her shoulder and kept staring out the window.

  “Bianca...you don’t need me.”

  She shifted to look at him. “Yes, I do. Nobody thinks I’m anybody without you. You’re the one thing I did that they can’t argue with—I convinced you to come out of retirement.”

  “You did,” he agreed. “And nothing’s going to change that. I came back.” He drew a breath and then released it. “And now it’s time for me to leave again.”

  “No,” she repeated. “No, I won’t allow it.”

  He felt both irritation and pity for her. “I’ll have to break the contract,” he admitted, “and find a way to pay back the signing bonus.” He swallowed hard at the thought of where the money would have to come from—no more plantation, no more inn. But at least he could be with the people he loved.

  Except for Ophelia. He felt a stab of pain at the thought but ignored it.

  “You can’t keep me here,” he reminded her gently, “if I don’t want to stay.”

  He watched her struggling with these words and felt sympathy for her. He had grown to genuinely like Bianca. But it wasn’t enough to make him want to stay.

  “Take me home,” she said.

  He hesitated. “Do you want—”

  “Take me home,” she repeated, turning cold, clear eyes on him. “I’ll have the lawyer begin drawing up the termination papers in the morning.”

  He looked at her for only a heartbeat longer before putting the
car back in gear. And while a part of him felt relieved to be free, a cloud of uncertainty cast a shadow over his relief.

  What had he just done?

  * * *

  LILLIAN RECEIVED THE news the following morning on her personal cell phone before she’d had any coffee. She’d tossed and turned most of the night, annoyed by Ophelia’s rejection of Cole’s proposal and wondering how she had raised a daughter so absolutely different from herself. Cole may not have been the man of Ophelia’s dreams, but that was exactly why she preferred him for Ophelia. Her daughter would have less risk with a man like Cole—he had proven himself to be solid and stable, not to mention capable. He would never leave her, never break her heart, as Lillian’s own had been broken.

  The same could not be said of a man like Dane Montgomery, who had thrown away a promising career in favor of some wild scheme to cultivate coffee in paradise.

  Lillian’s own experience with love had taught her that it was not something to give oneself over to completely. She had worked hard to keep her daughter from the tragedies she had encountered in life. And to see Ophelia so carelessly disregard Cole’s offer left a bitter taste in her mouth.

  The feeling still lingered when she awoke the morning after her dinner party with a splitting headache, a dry mouth and not an ounce of coffee in her loft apartment.

  The chirp of her cell phone set her temples throbbing even harder, and when she saw Bianca Towers’s number on the display, she wanted to toss her phone into the garbage disposal and grind it into oblivion.

  She ground her teeth together instead and began searching for a bottle of aspirin as she answered the call.

  “Why, hello, Bianca. I was so disappointed when you rushed off last evening without saying goodbye. I recognize the dinner didn’t end as intended, but I hope my daughter’s antics didn’t scare you away.”

  Lillian located a half-full container of painkillers and began fiddling with the childproof cap. She had never understood why pharmaceutical companies couldn’t offer their products with two different cap options—one for those with children and another for those who didn’t need to worry with such inconveniences.

  “He quit.”

  The cap popped off, shot across the kitchen and rolled beneath the fridge. Lillian suppressed a sigh as she shook a couple of tablets from the container and into her palm.

  “I’m afraid I don’t understand,” she mumbled as she reached for a tumbler and filled it with water from the tap.

  “Dane Montgomery.” Bianca’s tone fell flat over the line. “He. Quit.”

  The aspirin stuck in Lillian’s throat, and she coughed violently, drawing more water and chugging it to wash down the offending tablets in her throat.

  “Excuse me?”

  Bianca sighed with what sounded like exasperation. “He’s going back to Hawaii, breaking the contract. My lawyers are drawing up the paperwork as we speak.” She paused before delivering the final blow. “Towers International will no longer require the services of Reid Recruiting. To make myself clear...you’re fired.”

  * * *

  LILLIAN REID HAD once lived by the old adage, “If you want something done right, do it yourself.”

  So when all phone calls to her daughter went unanswered, she took it upon herself to make a visit to Dane Montgomery. She knew the man had yet to find an apartment in the city and currently resided in one of the suites at Towers Resorts in Manhattan. She sent for her chauffeur service and then took the time to shower and dress in a formidable business suit before pocketing a few more aspirin and heading out the door.

  Using her most authoritative tone with the concierge, she learned Dane’s suite number and then took the elevator to his floor. Once she reached the door to his rooms, she steeled herself for battle before lifting a hand and knocking resolutely. Long minutes passed before the man who had caused all these problems for her of late answered the door.

  She had to confess that she could understand why her daughter found him attractive. His height and frame, the morning scruff dusting his jaw and those clear blue eyes all served to present a picture of attraction that had surely been the basis for more than a few women’s fantasies throughout his time as an executive.

  “Ms. Reid,” he said, more as a statement of fact than a greeting.

  “Mr. Montgomery.” She inclined her head, adopting his tone. “Might I have a word?”

  “I’m not changing my mind,” he declared with apparent sincerity.

  She stared him down. “What makes you think I’m asking you to?”

  This statement obviously caused him sufficient confusion so that he finally stepped aside and gestured for her to enter.

  She crossed the threshold and took the opportunity to appreciate the ambience of the suite. Its sitting area featured plush armchairs in chocolate-brown suede, a glass-topped table and a dark wood desk. Ecru-and-ivory-striped wallpaper contributed to the impression of sophisticated luxury.

  “Can I get you anything?” Dane asked.

  “A glass of water. Preferably sparkling, if possible.”

  Dane nodded and moved toward the suite’s kitchen while Lillian slid a finger along an end table’s surface before taking a seat. Dane returned shortly with her drink.

  He hesitated before taking the seat across the coffee table from her own. She sipped her water and then placed it on the table between them.

  “May I ask what changed your mind?” She finally opened the conversation.

  Dane eyed her, rather warily, she thought. His blue eyes were distrustful. “I don’t belong here. I never claimed that I did.”

  “No,” she conceded, “but you agreed to return, which indicated you had made your peace with it. I only wonder what changed.”

  He said nothing, and she found herself growing impatient.

  “Did it have something to do with my daughter?”

  He went very still, his entire frame taut, but he said nothing.

  “Are you in love with her?” Lillian demanded.

  This question seemed to deflate him. “It wouldn’t matter if I was.”

  “Why? Because of her—” Lillian stopped short of the word fiancé, remembering it didn’t apply. “Because of Cole?” she corrected.

  Dane shook his head. “She has her own plans, her dreams for Paris. They don’t involve me.”

  Lillian straightened with interest. “Then you’d give her up? So she could pursue her own interests?”

  Dane leveled his stare with hers. “Yes,” he answered. “I’d let her go, if that’s what would make her happy.” He paused for a long moment. “Could you do the same?”

  The question stunned her, rocked something deep within. “That’s an absurd question,” she retorted. “I’m her mother. I’d do anything for her.”

  “Anything but release your hold on her.”

  She clenched her jaw and stared at him. “I’m allowing her to move halfway across the globe. I hardly think I’m clinging to her.”

  He shook his head. “It isn’t the physical distance. It’s the emotional strings you hold.”

  She scoffed at this, but his words reverberated somewhere deep inside. No one had stated it so candidly before; no one had ever dared give it voice, but Lillian knew, in the most secretive corner of her heart, that she did indeed hold Ophelia tighter than necessary. She feared letting go of her—feared losing the only person left in this world who loved her.

  Perhaps it was why she had always approved of Cole for her daughter—she knew that any love Ophelia had for Cole would never displace the love she bore for her mother. She would never be replaced or made less important in Ophelia’s eyes, when it came to Cole. But Dane...

  Dane Montgomery was far more dangerous. Someone like him would steal her daughter away from her, make her second best. Then she would have no one. Pe
rhaps it would be best if Dane returned to Hawaii, after all. Then Ophelia could forget about him.

  Lillian got to her feet, and Dane followed suit.

  “Well, I can see this has been a waste of time for us both,” she announced.

  “I disagree.”

  She blinked in surprise.

  “I see the problem now, I think,” he went on. His gaze was far too penetrating, and she reached for her purse.

  “I wish you the best of luck in your future endeavors, Mr. Montgomery. I’m sorry we were unable to work things out.”

  She turned to go.

  “It’s never safe, you know.”

  She froze at these words. Despite her reluctance, her curiosity overwhelmed her. She turned back around.

  “What isn’t?”

  “Love,” he replied. “Love isn’t safe. There’s always a risk to it, the fear that the one you love will leave—either of their own accord or be taken away. To give your love to another is to risk your heart.” He drew a breath. “But it’s not just a risk. It’s a refuge. Loving someone changes you, makes you better if you let it. It holds you when you’re afraid you’ll fall. It carries great risk, but it’s a place of safety, as well.” Those piercing blue eyes met hers. “Loving Ophelia doesn’t necessarily mean losing her. If you let her go, you might be surprised what you’d gain.”

  She tried to make a face in response, tried to roll her eyes or give some indication she found his logic too idealistic and naive. But she couldn’t move, couldn’t utter a word in reply. It was as if his words had sharpened tips that had found their way straight into the center of her soul. He had seen more of her than she had intended.

  “Goodbye, Mr. Montgomery.” She headed for the door, half in desperation, wanting to leave before Dane said anything more.

  She nearly made it, but he caught up to her on the threshold of his suite, gripping the door before she could escape through its frame.

  “I haven’t had a chance to thank you.”

  “Thank me?” She knew her tone must have been incredulous because a corner of his lips twitched in what appeared to be amusement.

  “Yes, thank you.”

  “Whatever for?”

  “For sending Ophelia to Hawaii. For giving me the opportunity to get to know her. I wouldn’t change that for anything.”