Valley of Stars (The Merriams Book 3)

Home > Contemporary > Valley of Stars (The Merriams Book 3) > Page 27
Valley of Stars (The Merriams Book 3) Page 27

by Ava Miles


  Only their new partner didn’t know that. They’d only told him to meet them in their hotel room. Was it a setup? Yep, and the Merriam contingent didn’t know about it either. He’d convinced Clara to keep it quiet, unsure how Michaela’s parents were feeling about Boyd.

  The poor man had barely cracked a smile since they’d left the village. Desperate times and all that, as Hargreaves would say…

  Speaking of which, he turned to Clara. “Is everything ready?”

  “Hargreaves is going to position himself by the door in case Boyd or anyone else tries to leave,” Clara said, fussing with the lunch tray on the coffee table for the umpteenth time.

  “Clara, dear, I know you’re nervous about this meeting, but give the poor sandwiches a rest. If you rearrange them in one more pattern, they may go on strike.” Did she realize the last pattern looked like their star-shaped flower?

  Hargreaves came forward with a vase stuffed with white roses and put them beside the tray. “Everything looks perfect, Madam.”

  “Glad you took those roses out of our room, Hargreaves,” Arthur said. “They were making me sneeze.”

  “Just don’t sneeze in here, dear.” She worried the diamond bracelet on her wrist, the one she’d insisted on buying this morning from the jewelry store in their luxury hotel, informing him she needed some extra sparkle after their ordeal. Since she was still shaken up, he hadn’t made a joke about diamonds being a girl’s best friend. She would have socked him.

  A knock on their door sounded, and Hargreaves crossed to open it. “Dr. McClellan, it’s good to see you. I hope you had a restful night in your own bed.”

  “Didn’t sleep a wink,” Boyd said, his tone dry. “Thanks for asking, Hargreaves. I thought I’d missed a soft bed and pillow, but it didn’t help my insomnia any.”

  That would explain his bad mood. Well, the poor boy was heartbroken. Couldn’t expect him to have pep in his step.

  “Perhaps warm milk would do the trick, sir,” Hargreaves responded, always helpful.

  Arthur harrumphed. “Oh, for heaven’s sake. Boyd has heartbreak, not insomnia. Warm milk won’t help. Now that we’re back, Boyd, what do you plan to do about your condition?” He pulled out the red hots he’d bought at the small grocery around the way. Clara liked her diamonds. He liked his red hots.

  “I’m going to work with you and Clara on the flower,” he responded, sitting down on the gold silk couch in their sitting room.

  “Keeping focused sounds like a good idea right now,” Clara responded, sitting beside Boyd. “Truthfully, there’s something Arthur and I thought needed our immediate attention. We want to make sure Connor and Iggie don’t do anything else to hurt the village. I hope you will excuse the liberty we took to address that, Boyd.”

  His eyes grew wary. “What do you mean?”

  Arthur patted him on the back before sitting beside him. “This is where you need to trust us, Boyd. As partners…”

  “Why is my skin starting to break out into hives?” he asked.

  “Hargreaves, find some calamine lotion for Boyd right away.” Clara pressed a hand to her forehead. “Is it too early for gin and tonics?”

  “Now my skin is really crawling,” Boyd said, looking around the room like he expected someone to jump out. “What did you do? Invite Connor here to bury the hatchet? I told you he won’t be able to blackball my company, although he can try.”

  “It’s not Connor,” Arthur said, grabbing his arm when he started to rise. “Funny how that didn’t strike either of us as a good idea. It’s Shawn and Assumpta. We think it’s important for them to hear your account of things as well as ours. You’ll recall we weren’t in the village the entire time. You were.”

  His eyes grew wary. “I don’t think this is a good idea. I can’t be too high on their favorites list right now. Hargreaves was there. Let him fill in any blanks.”

  “It’s not my purview, sir,” Hargreaves responded, standing in his butler posture across from them.

  A knock sounded, and Clara said, “Now I’m feeling sick.”

  Arthur waved Hargreaves off and stood. “Don’t worry, dear. We’re going to make this all right.” Even if he had to use some choice words. He was not going to allow the woman he loved to lose the family she’d just gotten back after decades of estrangement.

  Still, he understood Boyd not wanting to come between Michaela and her family. Clara’s estrangement from the Merriams had wrecked her life.

  When he opened the door, he was surprised to see Shawn and Assumpta weren’t alone. They’d brought a surprise guest, and it wasn’t Michaela. He wanted to groan. They’d brought Quinn, who was nearly as hard a nut as his brother.

  “Thank you for coming,” he said, extending his hand to both men and kissing Assumpta on the cheek. “Come in. We also invited an additional guest.”

  “Did they bring Michaela?” Clara asked, rushing to greet them. “Oh, it’s you, Quinn. What a…lovely surprise. You’re visiting from London then. Hello, Shawn and Assumpta. Thank you for coming.”

  Arthur gestured to his wife, who was wringing her hands. “In case you haven’t picked up on it already, Clara’s sick to the stomach at what transpired.”

  “Arthur.”

  “Well, you are, and I see no reason for us to languish in small talk for half an hour before we get down to brass tacks. How is Michaela?”

  “Yes, how is she?” Boyd asked, rising from the sofa.

  Quinn’s jaw seemed to harden like cement, but thankfully Shawn crossed the room and extended his hand to Boyd.

  “She’s getting stronger every day,” Shawn said. “It’s good to see you, Boyd. I’m glad you’re here. I was going to call you after we met with Arthur and Clara and ask to meet.”

  Boyd’s eyes narrowed, but he shook Shawn’s hand. “I’d have been curious about your invitation, Shawn, and out of respect, I would have gone.”

  “Does that mean you’d take a meeting with me, Boyd?” Quinn asked, setting his weight. “There’s a boxing club in Sonoma I’d love to invite you to.”

  “Quinn, I know you have your perspective, but remember what we asked of you when we invited you to come along,” Assumpta said, crossing to Boyd and kissing his cheek with a knowing glance at her son. “Good to see you, Boyd. Thank you for taking care of Michaela. Now, shall we all sit? It seems you have lunch for us. Clara, it looks delicious. Hargreaves, I’m sure your touch is all over things. Thank you for going to the extra trouble.”

  So they were going to do the bullshit dance, after all. Arthur wanted to bang his head against the wall.

  “It was nothing,” Clara said, gesturing dismissively. “I was just asking Arthur and Hargreaves if was too early for gin and tonics.” She gave an agonized chuckle, the poor thing.

  “Oh, get her a drink, Hargreaves,” Arthur said, motioning for their guests to take a seat in the common room, which was frankly over the top, what with its two sofas, separated by an overstuffed armchair. “Anyone else? I’ll have a whiskey.”

  “White wine for me, Hargreaves,” Assumpta said, sitting and arranging her skirt over her knees.

  “A drink sounds like a capital idea,” Shawn said, taking a seat beside her. “Whiskey neat.”

  “Bourbon neat,” Quinn said, snagging the chair.

  “Crow for me, Hargreaves,” Boyd said, resuming his seat between Arthur and Clara. “Straight up.”

  Now that’s what Arthur called a good start. Way to go, Boyd.

  “I’ll do what I can with the recipe I’m familiar with, Dr. McClellan,” Hargreaves said, his mouth noticeably twitching. He bowed and left the room. Arthur hoped he was calling room service for the drinks, but it wouldn’t shock him if Hargreaves had a bar rigged up somewhere in this crazy suite, which had as much square footage as their house in Dare Valley.

  “I’m not sure what you’ve heard about the trip, but there’s no denying I bribed a Customs official to delay Iggie for a few days, which seems to have contributed to other misunderstandings
,” Boyd said, putting his hands on his knees and meeting their eyes. “All I can do is explain why I did it and hope you might understand.”

  “Let’s hear it, then,” Quinn said, resting his ankle over his other leg.

  “You might recall I worked with Iggie for six months at Merriam,” Boyd said. “When Connor insisted on Iggie joining us, I was concerned for a number of reasons. First, Iggie isn’t a field guy; second, he’s not known for his cultural sensitivity.”

  “But isn’t he Indian?” Assumpta asked. “That seems odd.”

  “Just because someone is from another culture doesn’t mean they’re culturally sensitive,” Boyd said. “Third, I was concerned about his inclusion. Connor never sent someone to supervise Michaela before, and I didn’t trust Iggie not to interfere with what we were doing. Also, like I told Shawn before we left for Africa, I planned on winning Michaela back. I worried about doing so in front of her boss, especially since Connor had demoted Michaela in the first place for her romantic feelings for me.”

  “My two cents,” Arthur said. “Boyd’s actions weren’t the best, but he was right to get Iggie out of the way. The moment the man stepped back onto the plane, he treated Hargreaves like crap, and you can always tell a man’s character by how he treats people. His superiority complex was never more apparent than at the village, where he openly insulted the villagers. Connor should never have sent Iggie in the first place.”

  “It’s not my place,” Clara said, “but after seeing Iggie in action, if I were his boss, I’d fire him without a second thought.”

  “But like you said, it’s not your—”

  “Quinn,” Shawn interrupted. “Let them continue. I believe we’re on a constructive track here. Thank you for sharing your thoughts on Iggie. Now, what else can we do to fix things? Clara, it bothered me terribly when Michaela said you were worried this could cause a rift between us.”

  Clara swallowed thickly, and Arthur wished he’d sat beside his wife. They’d put Boyd in the middle to show solidarity, but right now, he wished he could take her hand.

  “After Connor and Iggie’s actions, Arthur and I couldn’t in good conscience entrust the flower to them, and as such, our family company. I wasn’t sure how everyone would take that decision. Connor made his opinion rather clear. I mean, I lost all of you over a business matter before.”

  “This isn’t the same situation,” Shawn said, leaning forward. “Come on, Clara. After our reconciliation in Provence, have a little more faith in me. You and Arthur brought back the flower that saved our daughter, alongside Boyd and Hargreaves’ care of her.”

  “I didn’t do anything much but sit beside her, Shawn,” Boyd said, clearing his throat. “Arthur and Clara and the flower deserve all the credit, along with the villagers who trusted them.”

  The boy’s heartbreak was turning him into an idiot, and Arthur wasn’t having any of it. “Boyd, you put an engagement ring on her hand to keep her strong and give her hope. You didn’t sleep for days. I’d say that’s plenty.”

  “Hargreaves didn’t rest either,” Boyd said, making Arthur want to kick him. Oh, this younger generation! When would they learn to listen?

  “We owe Hargreaves a debt as well,” Assumpta said.

  “Now, let’s talk about Connor’s actions,” Shawn said, his mouth flattening. “As you might expect, this is hard for all of us. We love him. But from what Michaela told us, he didn’t act like himself.”

  “Haven’t you spoken to him?” Clara asked.

  Shawn took Assumpta’s hand. “No, he dropped Michaela off at the house and has refused to speak to any of us. Without going into everything, all the kids came home to see Michaela, and we’re all deeply concerned. When Connor refused to discuss the event, Quinn rightly pointed out that we need to handle this as a business matter. We gave Connor the chance to talk to us privately. He hasn’t. Now, the board has called for a vote to make him appear and account for his actions.”

  Clara gasped while Arthur’s mouth went slack. The board? Damn it all to hell. That meant Connor’s actions would be on record. That stubborn, thick-headed…

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” Boyd said gravely. “You all must be incredibly upset.”

  “The meeting is tomorrow,” Shawn said. “We felt the matter urgent enough to call it on such short notice.”

  “I don’t know what to say,” Clara said, “except that I’m sorry. I wish things had gone differently in the village.”

  “Can you tell us more about what happened?” Shawn asked. “I brought Quinn along since he’s the vice president of the company. Depending on how the meeting goes tomorrow, Quinn might need to bring notes from this meeting.”

  “I hope to heaven it doesn’t come to that,” Arthur said, shaking his head, “but let’s get this over with. I’ll share my impressions of what happened to kick things off. Please, Clara, Boyd, jump in when you have something to add. Best get this over with as efficiently and factually as possible.”

  He fell into his journalistic shoes easily and began telling the story, using some details from the draft articles he’d been kicking around and others from memory. Hargreaves appeared with the drinks and doled them out as Arthur continued to speak. Clara only offered a few other details, mostly about how upset the chief and the villagers had been, something he would have let the reader discern for themselves from the events as they were told. Boyd remained silent to the end.

  Assumpta’s face was ashen, Arthur noted as he finished, and Shawn was looking out the window, his face a profile in desolation. Only Quinn was staring at them with complete focus, no emotion evident.

  “Do you have anything to add, Boyd?” Quinn asked.

  * * *

  Boyd shook his head. He didn’t think he should say anything. The situation had gone nuclear from what it sounded like. If Connor was refusing to speak to anyone, he was worse off than anyone had thought.

  Shawn turned back to look at him, resting his elbows on his knees like a tired man. “Michaela mentioned to me that Connor made some ugly comments about the future of your new company, Boyd. While I know it would be better coming from him, I still want to apologize. You have my word and Quinn’s that no one at Merriam Enterprises will slander you.”

  “As for working with your company,” Quinn said. “Bribing a Customs official is not the sort of behavior we tolerate, especially since you did it to detain one of our employees. That detail will be shared with the board in my overall accounting. I can’t say how the members might respond.”

  Meaning Boyd might still be on the no-work list for Merriam Enterprises. “I understand that.” Boyd inclined his chin. “Hearing there will be no disparagement is more than I expected, frankly, but I’d appreciate it if you’d keep the bribe out of the official minutes for the board meeting.”

  Quinn was quiet for a moment and then said, “I’ll talk to Legal. Without any solid evidence of the bribe other than your confession, I wouldn’t want to open us up to a lawsuit later.”

  “I concur, so let’s move on.” Shawn clasped his hands. “Michaela also told me what Connor said about the ring you bought her. Obviously, he overstepped in other ways too, but that comment was below the belt. Like I told you before, it’s the perfect ring for her.”

  He had to fight the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose as his throat closed up. All he could think of was the stubborn set of Michaela’s jaw as she told him she was keeping the ring, that they’d work things out. He just couldn’t see how. Tomorrow, his actions would be shared with the board. No one at Merriam would be eager to work with him after this. Given what Michaela had told him about her family—how she’d always felt like the odd one out, able to contribute only through the company—he didn’t like the idea of putting her in the middle.

  Boyd tried to smile. “I appreciate you saying that, Shawn, but you have nothing to be sorry for.”

  “It sounds like things got out of hand and very personal,” Quinn said, his poker face worthy of admiration. “As
vice president of Merriam Enterprises, I also want to apologize. Aunt Clara and Uncle Arthur, you have my word that nothing further will happen to the village. Please convey my apologies to the chief and everyone else. Iggie should have understood that you can’t just walk onto Maasai land without an invitation, and he was wrong to become aggressive when denied. I’d like to think that the head of our division would have possessed enough judgment to understand the village was merely being protective to keep the flower a secret.”

  Boyd had to give Quinn credit for the way he was handling things. It couldn’t be easy for him to acknowledge that his own brother and division head had made poor decisions.

  “While Connor is still acting president,” Quinn said, pausing finally to pick up his drink and take a healthy sip, “my hands are a bit tied on dealing with Iggie, but I promise you that I’m going to push to have him fired immediately. His actions aren’t in keeping with Merriam Enterprises.”

  Was that a tremor in his hand? Boyd knew the two brothers had always been especially close, and it wouldn’t be easy for Quinn to take a stand against his brother.

  “Thank you for all that, Quinn,” Clara said softly. “We’ll convey your message to the village. I have to admit it’s a huge load off our minds.”

  “You’re doing what’s right, Quinn,” Arthur said, “but we both know it can’t be easy.”

  “It’s business,” Quinn said, taking another fortifying drink. “All right. Unless you have anything else to share, I’m going to leave now.”

  Clara rose and crossed to him, putting her hand on his arm. When he got to his feet, he towered over her.

  “I hope our decision to work with Boyd on the flower won’t preclude you from issuing us an invitation to come visit you in London sometime,” Clara said. “I know you might not wish to hear this right now, but Grandpa Emmits would be proud of you for how you’re handling this.”

 

‹ Prev