Gentle Persuasion

by Cerella Sechrist

  His tone, as much as his words, melted something within her she had long thought unable of softening. Suddenly, she had to know.

  “Do you love my daughter?”

  “More than anything or anyone else in the world,” he replied without hesitation.

  “And does she love you?

  At this, he looked away, and Lillian escaped through the doorway without waiting for an answer.

  * * *

  OPHELIA DIDN’T LEARN about Dane’s resignation until Monday morning. She had kept her cell phone off the entire weekend. She hadn’t checked her email, she hadn’t listened to her messages and hadn’t read her texts. She’d needed time to herself, to process everything that had occurred. She’d spent the time packing up her apartment for storage and had made every effort to keep her mind focused on Paris and her upcoming move.

  But with each item that went into a box, she’d found herself growing more and more despondent. Instead of excitement, she felt only a flat indifference. After all this time, working toward her goal, she now was unable to experience any joy in it. She contrasted each mental image of Paris against her recent experiences in Hawaii and was disappointed to find Europe lacking in comparison to the islands.

  When she turned her phone back on Monday morning, she experienced a long sequence of alerts and chimes, all telling her of Dane’s decision and departure while she had isolated herself from everyone. She felt a moment’s panic when she realized his plane had already taken off according to a text from Holly, and that he was, right then, across the Pacific on his way back home.

  She didn’t bother heading into work that morning. Instead, she took a cab to the Towers International offices, using a confidence she didn’t feel to get past security and then reception until she found her way into Bianca Towers’s office on one of the top floors.

  The younger woman looked up and then stood as Ophelia entered the room unannounced. A receptionist trailed behind her, protesting the intrusion but Bianca gave a curt nod of dismissal and a command to close the door so that soon, it was just the two of them.

  “If your mother sent you,” Bianca began, but Ophelia shook her head.

  “She didn’t. I’m not here for Reid Recruiting. I’m here for Dane.”

  This statement must have caused sufficient interest for Bianca because she moved out from behind her desk and offered for Ophelia to sit beside her on a leather sofa with damask pillows against the far wall.

  “Please don’t blame him,” Ophelia began as soon as they were seated.

  “He chose to resign before the terms of his contract expired. Just who else am I supposed to blame?”

  “Blame me, if you have to,” Ophelia replied.

  “I don’t see how it’s your fault.”

  Ophelia sighed. “I should have known he wasn’t ready, that it wasn’t going to work.”

  “It was his decision, Ophelia. Not yours.”

  “But he was pushed into it, and I knew that.” She paused. “I shouldn’t have let him go.”

  The younger woman cocked her head. “What does that mean?”

  Ophelia hesitated, realizing how the words sounded. “Just, please...give him another chance.”

  Bianca emitted a scoff of incredulity. “And how am I supposed to do that?”

  She hadn’t even known she had the answer until Bianca asked the question. “Let him work from Hawaii. Retain him as a consultant with biannual meetings here in New York. Arrange for him to meet you at the new resort in Waikiki when you’re there. You can reduce his salary, but he can keep the signing bonus. And you both win.”

  When Ophelia first began speaking, Bianca shook her head. But by the time she was finished, the other woman appeared to be considering the suggestion.

  “It could still be said that I got Dane Montgomery out of retirement, that he works for Towers International.”

  “Exactly.” Ophelia felt a swell of triumph and excitement. “It’s not so much the work that’s the problem,” she explained. “He wants to be near his coffee plantation, and he feels like Hawaii is his home. So compromise. And then you both get what you want.”

  Bianca stood and began pacing. “He’d have to be available on my hours, though. The time difference can’t become an issue.”

  “It wouldn’t,” Ophelia reassured. “It’s only six hours, so it could be arranged.”

  “And he’d come to New York twice a year?”

  “That sounds perfectly reasonable to me.”

  Bianca paused in her pacing, turning to Ophelia with narrowed eyes. “How do you know he’ll agree to it?”

  Ophelia stood, topping Bianca in height by a couple of inches. “Because I know him.”

  “Didn’t you just meet him for the first time when you flew to Hawaii to recruit him?”

  Ophelia nodded but remained confident. “Yes. But I know him,” she repeated. “He’ll think this is a perfect solution.” She decided to take things one step further. “Plus, I have another proposition.”

  Bianca resumed her seat, and Ophelia followed suit. By the time she finished outlining her second proposal, she could see Bianca growing more and more excited.

  “If you ever choose to give up recruiting, Ophelia Reid, perhaps you should consider becoming a defense attorney. You’re pretty good at negotiation.”

  Ophelia felt herself relax with the knowledge that Bianca approved. “Negotiation is all part of a recruiter’s job.”

  “I just have one question.”

  Ophelia felt a ripple of uneasiness.

  “I watched you turn Dane down, outside the restaurant on Friday night. Why are you negotiating on his behalf now? As far as I see it, both your professional and personal relationships were terminated that night.”

  “Personal, maybe. But I’m still his recruiter.”

  “But I’m no longer a client of Reid Recruiting.”

  “Well, perhaps that can be renegotiated, as well.”

  Bianca grinned. “Okay, fair enough.”

  And Ophelia knew she had won.

  * * *

  THE WORD SPREAD quickly, and within a matter of days, the corporate world was buzzing with the news of Dane Montgomery’s return, departure and then the revision of his contract, which allowed him to work from Hawaii. Bianca reinstated the Towers account with Reid Recruiting, and once the hotel heiress contacted Dane—Bianca had requested to speak to him herself concerning the new contract terms—it seemed everyone had found the perfect solution.

  Everyone, that is, except Ophelia. She still felt little excitement about Paris, and she recognized, perhaps too late, that while the European city would always hold a special place for her, it wasn’t where she belonged. She wished she could somehow renege on her position there, but she couldn’t find the courage to tell her mother she no longer wished to move and oversee the European branch.

  So she continued with the charade, packing her items for storage and transferring the last of her clients to others within the firm. She received a handwritten note from Dane, postmarked from Hawaii, containing a pressed hibiscus flower and only two words.

  Thank you.

  Her heart squeezed at the sight of his handwriting, her fingers delicately tracing the fragile flower she knew his own fingers had touched. She was still holding it when Holly paged her through the phone’s speaker.

  “Ophelia, you have a caller. She wouldn’t give a name but insisted I put her through. She’s on line one.”

  Ophelia frowned, puzzled, but moved her hand toward the blinking line to take the call. As she reached for the phone, her eyes fell on a thick blue envelope lying in her inbox tray. She recognized the logo from the photo printers two blocks away. When she lifted the packet, two dozen photos spilled across her desk. They were the images from her disposable camera. She had forgotten
she’d given it to Holly last week and asked her to get prints made. She’d begun to sort through them when a beep sounded from the phone, reminding her of the waiting caller.

  She continued to rifle through the images, feeling a pang of both pain and nostalgia as she lifted the phone’s receiver and pressed the button for line one.

  “Hello, this is Ophelia Reid.”

  “You should come back.”

  Ophelia was so absorbed in the photos that the words didn’t immediately register. There was the Painted Church and then the Inoas, some of the local craftsmen at Holualoa, coffee cherries waiting to ripen, sunsets, Leilani in a hula pose, Keahi holding his arms out as if preparing to embrace her and Dane smiling at her with a sideways glance... And then the words of her caller penetrated.

  “Excuse me?”

  “He misses you. You should come back.”

  “Pele?” A wave of surprise washed over her. “How did you find my number?”

  Pele clicked her tongue. “You’re not the only one who can use the inn’s internet to look up things.”

  Ophelia couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped. Her hand brushed through the photos and found one of the feisty housekeeper. She remembered that Pele had tried to wave her away while she took the picture so that her hand was extended in a dismissive gesture. The photo captured every bit of her spirit.

  “He is not the only one who misses you. We all miss you.”

  “All of you?” Ophelia asked with skepticism.

  There was a short pause on the other end. “All of us. I should not have said the things that I said. It was not your fault he chose to leave. I’m sorry.”

  Ophelia felt tears rising. “It’s okay. Thank you.” The tears continued to come until the images on the desk before her were a blur of vibrant colors.

  “You made him happy. He is not the same without you.”

  And she wasn’t the same without him. Dane had restored something for her—a sense of family, of belonging. But by the time she’d realized exactly what she was giving up, Dane had left and her chance had passed.

  “I miss him, too,” she whispered. “I miss all of you.”

  “I know.”

  She didn’t even bother to ask just how Pele knew this, but she believed it.

  “Can you be happy without him?” Pele asked.

  Ophelia held her breath and looked around her office. Her gaze fell on the window, catching the morning light streaming inside. Soon, she had planned to trade one office for another—in Paris. But suddenly, the lights of Paris no longer seemed so bright. Instead, she longed for the golden cast of the islands.

  Blinking away her tears, she looked back down at the photos. The first one her eyes found was the last from the roll—the image of her and Dane in Central Park. His arm was wrapped tightly around her, and they were both smiling with such happiness that Ophelia barely recognized herself.

  It was then that she knew. She loved him. Nothing, not even Paris, compared to that.

  “Ophelia?” Pele spoke again. “Can you be happy without him?”

  “No,” she answered. “I can’t.”

  * * *

  OPHELIA INVITED HER mother out to dinner to break the news. She would have preferred to have an intimate conversation in her own apartment, but given the state of it with boxes and packing tape and half her kitchen already packed, she decided a restaurant would be better. They agreed to dine at Le Petite Renard after work, but Lillian had been waylaid by a last-minute phone call, so Ophelia found herself sitting at the bistro alone for thirty minutes, twisting her napkin into a wrinkled mess as she anxiously awaited her mother’s arrival.

  It didn’t help that her last memory of Le Petite Renard involved Cole giving her the pearl earrings.

  She had returned the present earlier that week. He had taken a few days off work, which left her feeling guilty. She couldn’t remember the last time Cole had called off. Her rejecting his proposal must have impacted him more than she’d imagined. So she had stopped by his apartment with the earrings and an apology. All things considered, it had gone well. She suspected his pride had been more wounded than his heart, and they had parted amicably. She knew Cole would eventually rebound and hopefully find someone he could love in a way he hadn’t quite been able to fully love her.

  All thoughts of Cole dissipated as she saw her mother enter Le Petite Renard, speak with the maître d’ and then find her way to Ophelia’s table. She seated herself in a cloud of perfume and a sigh.

  “My apologies for running late.”

  “That’s all right,” Ophelia automatically replied.

  “Have you ordered?”

  “I was waiting for you.”

  Lillian nodded in approval and waved down a waiter without looking at the menu. She placed her order, and Ophelia followed suit, asking for the same grilled lamb chops, steamed vegetable medley and side salad with house dressing.

  The waiter wrote down their beverage requests as well, but this time, Ophelia decided to forego her mother’s glass of chilled white wine in favor of simple sparkling water. She wanted to be as clearheaded as possible for this conversation.

  After their orders had been placed, and the waiter moved away from their table, Ophelia faced her mother. Her stomach tightened with apprehension, and she dropped her gaze again so she could find the words to begin.

  “It’s fortuitous you asked to meet,” her mother said, instead. “I think it’s time you and I have a chat.”

  Ophelia twisted her napkin into a knot once more and then tried to smooth it on her lap so she had somewhere to look other than into her mother’s eyes.

  “I’m proud of you.”

  The words were so sudden and unexpected that Ophelia’s head jerked up of its own accord.

  “Wh-what?”

  Lillian drew a small breath and held it for several seconds. “I always assumed it went without saying, but perhaps I was wrong. I am proud of you, Ophelia. Not just for what you did this week, in renegotiating the Dane Montgomery contract to find an acceptable compromise for both parties, but for how committed you’ve been to the company and to this job.”

  Ophelia nearly winced openly. What she wouldn’t have given to hear those sentiments one month ago. But now...now they only made what she had to do even harder. She licked her lips and chose her words carefully.

  “Thank you, Ms. Reid. I really appreciate—” She stopped herself. “That means a lot to me. More than you can possibly know. Thank you.”

  Lillian nodded without smiling.

  “But there’s something I have to tell you.”

  She had to do it quickly, as she’d done in rejecting Cole. She had to say it before her head tried to dissuade her heart.

  “I don’t want to move to Paris.”

  Lillian blinked, and Ophelia rushed to fill the silence.

  “It was a childhood dream, to live there. But I think it’s one of those ideas that makes a better dream than a reality. I don’t want the promotion. I’m sorry.”

  The waiter reappeared just then with their beverages, and Ophelia sat in misery until he moved away once more. Lillian took her time in responding, reaching for her wineglass and taking a sip before returning it to its spot on the table.

  “Does Dane Montgomery have anything to do with this decision?”

  At the mention of his name, Ophelia’s breath caught. She decided to be as honest as she could be. “Yes and no. I don’t want to move to Paris anymore, no matter what happens with Dane. At the same time, I have to admit that it was meeting him and traveling to Hawaii that helped change things for me.”

  “I see.” Lillian didn’t look at her. Instead, she fiddled with the stem of her wineglass. “And is that why you rejected Cole’s proposal? Did Dane Montgomery have anything to do with that?”

>   Ophelia felt herself flushing. “I turned Cole down because...I don’t love him.”

  “And Montgomery? Do you love him?”

  She hesitated and then decided it was best to come clean. “I do,” she murmured. “I love him very much.”

  Lillian relaxed and leaned back in her seat. Ophelia wasn’t sure how, but she sensed that her mother had been waiting for something—and that Ophelia had just delivered it.

  “Then you’re fired.”

  Her jaw dropped.

  “Excuse me?”

  “You’re fired,” Lillian repeated, and despite the words, Ophelia saw a rare glint of humor in her mother’s eyes.

  “Although I’m sure the arrangement satisfies Bianca, I won’t have a recruiter working for me from Hawaii. You’ll have to find some other way to occupy your time.” She reached for her wineglass once more as Ophelia stared. “I’m sure you’ll have no trouble putting your talents to good use, however. I heard you negotiated a fabulous deal with Towers International for exclusive rights as the Kona coffee supplier to their Waikiki resort. Dane’s money problems should be over with that sort of coup.” She clicked her tongue and met Ophelia’s eyes. “I hope he knows your true worth. Because it’s never anything he could measure in dollars.”

  Ophelia felt a warmth blossom in her stomach and spread outward. Tears touched her eyes.

  “He does, Ms. Reid. He does.”

  Her mother shook her head. “You don’t work for me anymore. So enough of that Ms. Reid nonsense.”

  Ophelia grinned, reaching out to grip her mother’s hand in her own. The touch seemed to startle Lillian, who looked at her daughter with something akin to both awe and regret.

  “I know this can’t be easy for you. So thank you...Mom.”

  EPILOGUE

  OPHELIA FELT A different sort of anticipation than she had experienced the first time she’d stood on this doorstep. The Kona breeze was just as deliciously balmy, but this time, she felt in no way weary from her long flight. On the contrary, she was energized and eager for the days ahead.