by Joan Bramsch
"The new clauses—eleven through seventeen—seem to be ironclad,” remarked Casey, handing the papers back to Jessica. “They cover everything we discussed at our last meeting."
"They'll protect your corporation, no matter who contracts with you, Casey. I made sure of that.” She replaced the agreement in the folder and settled down for a short visit. She had an hour before she was due for a briefing. “How is the business doing?” she asked. “Any interesting opportunities on the horizon?"
"As a matter of fact, McDermott's is doing very well, Jess. We're negotiating with AEI out of Tucson on a national testing program for a new energy project."
The relaxed smile slid from Jessica's lips. “You're working with Shawn O'Brien?"
Casey felt the temperature in the room drop twenty degrees. What was wrong? “Yes. He's in town right now,” she answered. “Do you know him?"
"Not personally, but his reputation precedes him.” She leaned forward and spoke insistently. “What's the deal?"
With a few sentences, Casey explained. “What do you know, Jessie? You're scaring the hell out of me!"
"Do not, I repeat, do not sign your name to anything for AEI until I see it first, understand?"
Casey fixed her lawyer with a disbelieving stare. “Jessica, explain yourself. I know the man. He's a hardworking business owner like me. This new project he's spearheading will dramatically reduce energy costs for the nation. Compared to the former owner, he's a saint!"
Jessica eyed her client shrewdly. Was she involved with the man? she wondered as she cautiously told her what she knew. “Shawn O'Brien has a good reputation for finding the need, energy-wise, and filling it. He's a rising star on the horizon in that respect. However..."
She paused, choosing her words carefully. “Word is out that he's been successful in takeover bids for smaller companies which enhance his already formidable holdings. He finds what he needs, and goes after it."
"That doesn't sound dishonest,” Casey countered. “He's trying to control all levels of production, it seems to me."
"What sounds like good business practices may in fact be somewhat unethical. Some former business owners are calling him The Vulture!” She gazed at Casey's pale features. “How well do you know this man, Casey?"
She met Jessica's eyes squarely. “Fairly well, actually.” She wasn't going to spell it out for her, but she had a hunch her lawyer would be able to read between the lines. Casey liked Shawn and she was having a difficult time assimilating this distasteful allegation against him.
Jessica got the unspoken message. Damn! she thought vexingly. Why do the sweet ones always fall for the rats of the world? Casey was so smart. Well, who ever said women were smart when it came to men?
"All I'm telling you is what I've heard on the corporate grape vine, Casey. Just be a little on guard, will you? Don't enter any sort of agreement with his company unless I'm present, okay? At this point I'm not certain what's true and what's sour grapes."
She chuckled softly, noting that the color was coming back into Casey's pretty oval face. “I'll get on the phone and check him out. Perhaps he's only been taking over those organizations, which were shaky to begin with, the ones that would file for bankruptcy soon. If that's the case, then Mr. O'Brien would not only be doing his company a favor, he'd be improving the economy by creating and/or keeping jobs for his new employees. I will tell you I've also heard that he's one of the most competent business owners around. He uses state-of-the-art computer methods to control research, production, and cost factoring."
"That's gratifying to hear.” Taking a deep breath, Casey rose to leave, feeling better after hearing Jessica's last words. “Thank you for looking out for our interests, friend. I'll look forward to hearing from you. I believe you'll find nothing that could indict Shawn."
She prayed with all her heart that she was right. Jessica had not been privy to the serious conversations she'd had with Shawn. How could she know anything really about his business ethics? He traveled in the fast lane, yes, but Casey just could not believe he would choose the shady side of the road!
She hugged her friend. “Please keep me informed, Jessie."
"Sure thing, Casey.” Jessica walked her to the door. “And we'll keep this conversation confidential."
Casey nodded her agreement.
* * * *
When Shawn returned to the McDermott office Friday afternoon for the “last cup of the day", he strolled over to Casey. “And how was your day?"
"Long!” she replied, propping her feet on a stool. She omitted any mention of her meeting with her lawyer. She had decided to keep her own counsel, waiting until Jessica discovered the facts about Shawn's alleged takeovers. The more she had thought about it during the day, the more she disbelieved it.
"Hey, Mike, I've got a question.” Shawn had yet to take a seat. “What does a visitor do for some weekend action in this town?"
"You can go down to Laclede's Landing. There's some great nightspots there."
"I walked through the area the other day when I got in,” confirmed Shawn. “The only thing that really caught my interest was a building that, I was told, represented one of the finest examples of restored metal-faced architecture in the world."
Casey smiled at him, knowing what she had to say would please his engineering mind. Her brain did a little back step. Not that way, dummy! she scolded, banishing her surprising train of thought.
"It's called Rader's Place after the original architect,” she explained. “You would have enjoyed watching the restoration process several years ago. It was all done with plastics and fiberglass, formed to look like cast iron. I have a book that shows in detail all the innovations they used to complete the project."
Shawn grinned with pleasure. This was the first time in front of her family that Casey had willingly joined in a conversation with him without being goaded first. “I think I may have read something about it in the Architectural Review,” he replied, “but I'd like to see your book, too."
He shifted his gaze back to Mike, silently reinforcing his intention to give her space. He'd been doing it all week, but he still wasn't used to the idea. “What I had in mind was something a little more physical."
Mike's brows waggled lecherously. “Oh?"
"Hey, you want to get me in trouble, kid? I mean ... what kinds of sports activities are offered for an old man like me."
He grimaced like he was aged and worn, then smiled wickedly in Casey's direction. She exploded into laughter, remembering his strength and agility when they'd fallen on the hard cold ground. He loved to hear her laugh. It had such a spontaneous sparkle.
By this time Maureen and John had ended a quiet discussion and rejoined the group. “Do you know anything about soccer?” asked Maureen. “Every Saturday morning the McDermott's and Malone's have a game over in Carondelet Park. It's just a friendly little game.” She groaned loudly. “At least, that's what everyone proclaims until the first play."
"It's an ongoing feud!” John rubbed his shin in remembered pain. “What we try to do is beat the hell out of each other.” He joined Mike in merry feints and jabs. “I'm going to be short a man ... opps!” He caught Casey's glare of reprisal. “I mean I'll be short one person,” he emphasized, bowing in her direction where she sat looking smug and delighted that she'd made him correct himself. “I can use you if you play. Do you?"
Shawn gazed contemplatively out the window, thoughtfully rubbing his lean square jaw. “I've been known to make a few goals in my time,” he answered, noncommittally, bringing his eyes back to the group. “Soccer was the one team sport the good Sisters allowed. In their sweet simple way, they thought we couldn't hurt one another if we weren't permitted to use our hands.” He chuckled ruefully. “Boy, were they wrong! But Father Murphy, our coach, never saw any reason to tell them differently."
He winked at John. “I've never played on a coed team before,” he admitted. “And from the quelling look you got from Casey on your verbal blunder, I can
only assume that females also play?"
"You got that right, Shawn.” Mike nodded toward his sisters. “No one could beat the McDermott's when we had both Maureen and Casey on our team but since middle sister here has decided it's not seemly for a mother to play such a cutthroat game, we're left with only Casey to represent the weaker sex."
"How would you like a knot on your pointed head, little brother?” Casey's threat was ruined when she laughed because Mike, with his arms wrapped over his head, cowered behind John. “In a few years we'll have young Katie ready to take her place beside me. Right now she's our only cheerleader,” she explained to Shawn, still grinning at the thought of her ferociously competitive little niece.
Shawn smiled dreamily. “Cheerleader, eh?” And he tossed a little reminder of that first night into the conversation without anyone but Casey knowing what he meant. Then he brought his attention back to John. “If you really can use another player, I'd like to be included in this family feud."
John nodded enthusiastically.
"We'll have to see what kind of equipment we can come up with for you,” offered Maureen who seemed pleased as punch, Casey thought, at the idea that big sister was going to get a chance to whip the stuffings out of this business associate. Casey returned her sly grin, letting her know she was certainly going to enjoy the challenge.
"That's very thoughtful of you, Maureen.” Shawn's warm smile of appreciation changed slowly into a devilish grin. “But it just so happens that I have all my equipment with me. He exchanged another confident wink with John. “I like to be ready for anything, you see."
"Aw-right!” shouted John, exchanging a High Five with Shawn. “I've a feeling we're going to break our losing streak tomorrow.” He matched his prediction with a fiendish leer at his in-laws.
In one voice, the three turned on him with narrowed eyes and taunting words. “Bring your lunch, buster!"
Amid the ensuing argument, the time was set and directions were given to Shawn for reaching the appointed place for the game. Then everyone got ready to go, the place was locked up, and the group walked outside. Shawn stood quietly within the circle of discussion that continued on the parking lot while the family made last minute arrangements for the banquet they were to attend in a few hours.
Casey turned to him to say good-bye. “I wish we could invite you to come as our guest, Shawn, but the tickets were gone weeks ago and everyone has to have an invitation."
"That's okay, Casey. Thanks for the thought. I'll find something to do."
She wondered why his dark eyes seemed to flash with light as if he had a secret. It's just your crazy imagination, she told herself. “Have a nice evening,” she said pleasantly. “Tomorrow you're not gonna feel like dancin'.” Her warning voice dropped to a deadly pitch. “McDermott's play for blood!"
"We won't be too hard on you, old man,” teased Mike, slapping Shawn companionably on the back. “Don't worry if you should get hurt bad. You know, like a broken ankle or torn ligaments. My future father-in-law is the best orthopedics man in town and he comes to all our games ... just in case!"
"Damn!” Shawn swore in implied exasperation as if he were rethinking his decision to play. “Where do you all get that mean competitive streak?"
"We're McDermott's,” Casey shot back proudly. “And that explains everything.” She climbed into the passenger seat of the truck as Mike slid behind the wheel and started the engine. “See you in the morning, Shawn. So long."
Returning Shawn's wave when they pulled from the lot, Casey felt the Adrenaline flow through her veins. She was just itching to play against him in the family sport—soccer. “We've got tomorrow's game in the bag,” she told Mike, rubbing her hands together gleefully. “I'll bet he's all talk and no action."
Mike darted a quick look at her determined face, smiling at her jutting chin and last words. “Is that so, big sister?” But he clamped his mouth shut when Casey threw a threatening glare in his direction.
She was out and running as soon as he pulled into the driveway alongside their home. “I've got first dibs on the bathroom,” she called to him as he hurried after her through the cold evening air.
"You've got half an hour,” he replied decisively. “Then I pull the plug!"
"I'll be out by then,” she tossed back, laughing. “I know you need at least two hours to get ready for your date with Tina. You don't want to smell like a skunk,” she teased in sisterly fashion, dropping her coat on the hall tree and dodging his intended swat to her backside when she darted for the stairs.
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Chapter 4
Within ten minutes Casey was immersed in the tub, reveling in the warm scented water caressing her weary body. “Lovely!"
She sighed and thought of Shawn. She'd just completed a very pleasant, friendly workweek with the man. How different she felt since she'd gotten to know him better. She told herself that she'd been right all along. She could associate just fine with him, as long as she kept the relationship on a business level. He was a hard worker, quite loyal and, for the most part, ethical. She hadn't forgotten his little dart about the cheerleader.
"But Jessie has to be all wrong about him."
Pushing the unsettling thought aside, she rubbed the soapy sponge over her smooth skin, as her mind wandered on a pathway all its own. I wonder what it would be like to feel Shawn's hands on my body, she mused, sinking deeper beneath the surface of the water. Her skin tingled at the vivid image her brain conjured. Her lashes fluttered down over emerald eyes suddenly smoky with desire and her limbs trembled ... as if in anticipation.
If he were to make love to her, would he be gentle or fierce? Yes! answered the hot throbbing recesses of her body. He kissed as if he had a world of experience so he'd surely make love masterfully, she decided, breathing on a sigh the fragrant cloud that enveloped her.
"Stop it!” she ordered her willful body as she pulled herself up and closed the shower doors. “Let the damn water out of the damn tub and wash your damn hair.” She spoke between clenched teeth as she scrubbed her scalp under a mountain of bubbles. “And stop fantasizing".
She was just putting the finishing touches to her hair when Mike knocked on her bedroom door and burst in as soon as she gave permission to enter. He appeared beside himself although his black tuxedo fit him to perfection.
"Sis-sy!” He gave her an exasperated look. “I can't get this blasted bow tie tied!"
She got up from her vanity bench to help him. “There you are, Michael, me boy-oh.” Giving the tie one last pat, she kissed him impulsively on the cheek. Her smile showed how proud she was of him. “You look so handsome, Tina is going to fall in love with you all over again tonight."
Now that the crisis was passed, Mike did a double-take. He filled the air with a long low wolf whistle and motioned for her to turn around. “Man, you look good enough to eat.” He grinned sheepishly at his loss for words. “I mean ... you're ... you're beautiful, Casey."
"Thank you, kind sir."
She'd chosen a silver-sheen lavender evening gown with a draped bodice that hugged her firm breasts and accentuated her small waist. The skirt was a swirling vision—yards and yards of silk organza—that flowed over her hips and showed to perfection her slim legs. Her tiny feet were strapped into high-heeled dancing slippers of muted silver lame'. She had even polished her nails with rose-tinted lacquer matching her lip gloss and blusher perfectly. She twirled around once more for her brother's inspection.
"Your hair is ... awesome, Casey,” he declared in a quiet proud voice. “You look like something out of Vogue magazine."
"I just hope it stays up!"
She laughed because she knew it was a fifty-fifty proposition! She'd brushed the entire length of her glowing red hair into a sweeping chignon, twisting and smoothing it until she could fasten the knot with three antique silver great hairpins, the longer of the three going straight down through the coiled mass while the other two were inserted at right angles on each side
to hold everything together. The style was definitely high fashion. The loose tendrils around her oval face brought mystery and intrigue to her wide green eyes, which appeared even larger after she'd applied emerald shadow and mink mascara.
Her only jewelry was a set of diamond stud earrings. She'd received them from her father upon her college graduation and wanted to wear them tonight especially. She picked up her silver fox stole and wrapped it around her shoulders, snuggling down into the soft fur, unaware of the truly feminine gesture, but Mike saw it and smiled tenderly.
"We'd better get a move on, Mike.” She took her purse from the dresser and walked toward the opened door.
"I'm right behind you, Sis.” He dashed into his room for his topcoat, then followed her down the stairs to the front door. They got into the late model sedan that had been their father's car. Mike used it more than Casey because he declared that he couldn't court Tina in a beat-up company truck.
Casey hadn't argued with him; she'd always thought the truck was more her style anyway. That old red truck made her feel powerful when she was caught in heavy traffic. Nobody messed with a grinning red-haired female driving a red truck like a Bandit down the highway! She suppressed a giggle. Wouldn't she just love to challenge Shawn to a drag race someday? She'd make a believer out of him in no time flat!
Shawn. Sighing she wondered what he was doing tonight.
Twenty minutes later they arrived at Tina's home. Casey waited in the car while her brother went in. His almost fiancée's mother worked right alongside her husband “Doc” as his office manager and accountant. It must be wonderful to spend a lifetime working at the side of one's husband, she pondered. Maureen and John certainly seemed to thrive on it.
Unaccountably Shawn's handsome face appeared before her mind's eye. A provocative smile curved his lips, a fiery challenge danced in his onyx eyes. She watched hypnotically when his gaze became hooded and sent smoldering messages to her yearning center. We could be good together, Casey, he seemed to say. She shivered and pulled her wrap more closely around her body as if the soft fur could give her some protection against her rampaging imagination. “We'd fight all the time,” she muttered. “That's almost all we do now! Except when we laugh."