by Ann Omasta
He spent the next several weeks flying around the country, making deals one by one. He focused on really listening to the people on the other side of the contract to find out what they wanted and then figuring out a way to get it for them.
One of the most challenging deals was for some farmland just outside of Kansas City. The farmer, Mark, wanted to increase his land size, not sell it. Trevor proceeded to meet with all of the local farmers to work deals for their plots. He ended up finding several that were willing to sell. When he presented Mark with the package that nearly doubled his current acreage, the man actually had tears in his eyes. When Trevor went to shake his hand, the farmer pulled him into a bear hug, slapping him on the back and insisting that he come home with him for dinner.
The ham, mashed potatoes, corn, green beans, buttermilk biscuits, and peach cobbler were by far the best meal he had eaten in a long time. Even the most fancy restaurant couldn’t compete with a homemade, country meal. By the time he left the homestead that evening, he felt like a part of Mark’s family.
Day by day and deal by deal, Trevor worked to secure each piece of the whole package on the mall deal. With each signature, he required a confidentiality clause that would keep Selena Chase from finding out early and swooping in to steal the deal back from Donovan Enterprises.
He traveled the country, getting to know the real people behind the numbers and helping to make their dreams come true in exchange for another piece of the puzzle. Even though he was using the company’s luxurious, private jet, and he was staying in swanky hotels, he was getting tired and felt ready to go home.
His daily check-in calls with Millie were all business, and he was starting to become concerned that she no longer had feelings for him. He couldn’t stand the thought of losing her, but he needed to finish these negotiations before heading home.
The last meeting was going to be his most challenging. Trey had envisioned the Atlanta mall as the franchise’s flagship, but the land they needed was owned by Selena Chase’s mentor, Grant Wiltshire. Trevor was surprised the man had even agreed to meet with him.
The meeting was at Grant’s estate. It was a classic positioning tactic––make the enemy come to your turf. In another play for power, Grant made Trevor wait for him. The butler had seated him outside by the infinity pool, so Trevor decided to enjoy the time––refusing to take the bait and get annoyed by his host’s tardiness.
When the older gentleman did arrive, he looked like someone who had been chosen for the role by Central Casting. His imposing height, bushy eyebrows and white puff of hair made him appear more like an angry hawk than an aging businessman.
“Why should I even talk to you?” was the terse way he greeted Trevor.
“You shouldn’t,” Trevor responded honestly. “But we’re here, so we might as well eat, right?”
Something about his frank response must have impressed the old man because he bellowed with surprisingly loud laughter before responding, “I suppose so,” and tucking into the plate of chicken salad and fruit that had been placed before him.
They ate in silence. Trevor followed the other man’s lead, waiting patiently for the right moment to talk. Once their cherry cheesecake dessert was served, Grant took a sip of his steaming, black coffee and said, “Selena will never forgive me, if I sell to you.”
“I understand,” Trevor nodded, accepting the man’s answer and scooting back his chair.
“Where do you think you’re going?” the older man grouched. “She’ll never forgive me, but that stubborn woman doesn’t know what is in her own best interest. Maybe one of these days, she’ll figure out that I did it for her.”
“Did what?” Trevor was beginning to dare to hope the man meant that he would sell to him, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to believe it.
“I’m not going to sign the damn papers if you ask any more idiotic questions like that,” the old man frowned at him.
“Okay,” Trevor chuckled, trying to keep the glee out of his voice.
He knew this must be a difficult decision for the other man, so he kept the whoop of excitement curtailed until he was securely ensconced back in the privacy of his rental car.
He considered calling Trey, but the first person’s name that his finger tapped was Millie’s. He couldn’t wait to share the news with her. After all, she had worked for this deal as much as anyone. But when she answered the phone, business quickly left his mind because Millie was sobbing.
10
“What’s wrong?” He felt panicked that Millie was obviously so upset.
He could barely understand her response through the sobs and hiccups. “Goose… ran over… babies won’t have a daddy… mate for life.” He picked enough out of the garbled conversation to realize that the goose that had attacked her had been injured.
Relief coursed through him that it wasn’t something catastrophic. The fact that it was so important to her, made it important to him, though. She was normally the calm, composed one, who logically thought about any problem and devised a plan. Since she was so upset, he would step into that role for her.
“Is the animal still alive?” he asked calmly.
“I don’t knowwwww,” she wailed into the phone.
“It’s all right. Sit tight. I’ll send help, and I’m on my way there,” he promised.
“Umm, okay,” she sniffled, seeming uncertain how to react to someone else taking care of her for once.
“Everything will work out, I promise,” he told her before disconnecting. Once the line was dead, he silently vowed to keep that promise, even though he had no idea how to do so. Who did one call to help an injured goose? This was the type of thing that Millie would normally effortlessly take care of, but she was in no shape to handle it now.
Deciding that this was silly, he was a fill-in billionaire after all, he looked up the number for the veterinarian’s office that he passed each day on his way to work and dialed them. When he told the receptionist his problem, she responded that the doctor didn’t make house calls or work on geese.
He informed her in his most authoritative voice, “She’ll need to make an exception for this goose. It’s special.” Almost as an afterthought, he added, “She can name her price. This is Trevor Donovan from Donovan Enterprises.” It was the first time he had thrown his name around to get his way.
Apparently, those were the magic words because the receptionist changed her tune. “She’s in with a patient right now, Mr. Donovan, but I’ll go knock on the door.”
With minimal coaxing, he was able to secure a goose doctor. He just prayed that the dumb animal was still alive.
11
As they readied the company jet for takeoff, Trevor joked with Julie, his personal flight attendant, whom he had gotten to know fairly well as they jetted across the country these past few weeks. “If you could ask the pilot to fly fast, I’d appreciate it. I have an injured goose waiting on me at home.”
Julie furrowed her brows in confusion, but she was too professional and well-trained to question anything her clients proclaimed. She opted instead to smile, promise to see what she could do, and offer him a sparking water.
Kicking back, he decided to rest while he could. This might turn out to be a long night.
Right after landing, he asked Jim to deliver him straight to the vet’s office. As soon as he walked into the nearly empty office, Millie rushed into his arms. “Donald is in surgery,” she told him sadly.
“Donald?” Trevor pulled back to look at her. Even distraught with worry, she was impossibly beautiful.
“I named them Donald and Daisy,” she told him seriously.
“Aren’t those ducks?” Seeing her sad face made him regret the question as soon as he uttered it. It really didn’t matter what she called them, and it wasn’t the moment to be giving her a hard time. “Come here,” he said, placing a comforting arm around her shoulder and guiding her to sit down beside him on the floral print love seat in the dated waiting room.
Th
ey waited and waited. The office was quiet because it was well after their regular hours. Trevor assumed that it was not a good sign that it was taking so long, but he didn’t mention that concern to Millie. She was already worried enough. Instead he decided to put a positive spin on it. “He must be alive, or they wouldn’t still be in there,” he tried to reassure her.
She nodded, but continued to ring her hands together. He wasn’t sure what else to say. He hated feeling so useless. It was amazing how quickly he went from being on top of the world negotiating multi-million-dollar deals to sitting in a waiting room worrying over a stupid goose’s health. Except it wasn’t a stupid goose––the animal mattered to Millie, which made it important to him.
After what seemed like an eternity, the veterinarian emerged from the back. They both stood up and waited with bated breath for her to update them. “We need to monitor him closely for the next twenty-four hours, but he survived the surgery and is stable. That is one strong goose,” she smiled through her exhaustion.
Millie sagged with relief at the news. Trevor used his arm around her shoulders to support her. When the other woman turned to leave, Millie stepped forward. “Doctor?”
When she turned back, Millie pulled the surprised woman into a warm hug. “Thank you so much,” she gushed.
The vet patted her back kindly before pulling away. “He is a lucky goose to have you two on his side. Now, go home and get some rest.” With that, she was gone.
Jim was waiting outside. Trevor suddenly felt selfish for not thinking to tell the driver he could leave. He had been so frantic in his rush to meet Millie, he hadn’t thought of the simple kindness. The man seemed completely unperturbed by the long wait and quickly whisked them to Millie’s condo, upon Trevor’s request.
Millie leaned against Trevor’s shoulder and finally allowed herself to doze off. Her tiny puffs of breath near his ear raised the tiny hairs at the back of his neck. He loved it that she felt safe enough in his arms to sleep. When she began to snore lightly, he grinned to himself. Just when he thought this woman couldn’t get any more adorable, she proved him wrong.
All too quickly, they pulled to a stop in front of her sidewalk. Jim moved to get the car doors for them, but Trevor told him to stay put. The man simply nodded and continued facing forward––a consummate professional.
Trevor opened the door beside him and slowly scooted out, using his hands to support Millie as she slept. When he slid his arms under her to ease her out of the car, he quickly discovered that she was light as a feather. When she stirred as he settled her in his arms, he pressed a kiss down on her soft hair and she rested back against his chest.
When he got to her front door, he realized the problem with his master plan to swoop her inside. He didn’t have the entry code. Seeming to sense his problem, despite her groggy state, she mumbled, “It’s not locked.”
Her words concerned him, but he used his right hand to release the latch, while his arm continued to support her legs under her knees. Kicking the door open, he couldn’t keep from asking, “Why isn’t your door locked?”
“I was so frantic when I heard the noise outside when Donald got hit that I rushed out there. Daisy was so upset. Luckily, my cell phone was in my pocket, or I wouldn’t have gotten your call.”
Her explanation made sense, but he was still concerned about leaving her in a condo that had been unlocked all day. When he asked where her bedroom was, she answered that it was upstairs without questioning his motives.
As he carried her up the stairs, he tried not to think about the fact that he would be in her bedroom soon. “Do you know who hit Donald?” he asked, in an attempt to distract himself from the naughty thoughts that were echoing around his brain.
“No, they drove off without even checking on him. It almost makes me think it was intentional. He’s kind of aggressive, but he’s just trying to protect his family,” she said, jumping to her winged attacker’s defense.
When Trevor promised to check with the condo association to see if they had any video security surveillance that he could use to figure out who had done this, she tipped up to kiss his cheek. “My hero,” she said sleepily.
Setting her down gently on her bed, he worked to get her settled in. After removing her shoes and socks, he grinned at seeing her surprising toenail colors again. He tenderly tucked her in then leaned down for a chaste kiss on the lips. “Sweet dreams,” he whispered before peeking under her bed and in her closet.
He did a sweep of the entire house before letting himself out. He had to be certain that no one had taken advantage of the unlocked door. Once satisfied that the premises were safe, he left, pushing the button to automatically lock the front door behind him.
Jim saw him safely home and confirmed that he would be there at the usual time to pick Trevor up for work in the morning. Trevor knew it would be a short night, since he was getting to bed so late, but he was too excited about tomorrow’s announcements to sleep.
12
Millie helped him schedule an all-staff town hall meeting for mid-morning. He wanted to be the one to tell his employees about the massive deal they had just struck. It felt good to know that it was his wits and creativity that had finalized the official decision to award the mall contract to Donovan Enterprises.
He stood before his empire, many of them watching via live video from their offices across the world, and proclaimed victory in one of the biggest nationwide deals in recent history. The employees in attendance in the building whooped with excitement when he showed the slide with the various mall locations they would be building and told them that they would now be THE place for everyone who was anyone to shop.
It had been an intentional move to share the news with the employees before releasing the story to the press. He knew that by now, the press had probably gotten ahold of it, but at least he had shared the news with his workers first. They had a right to know before anyone else. Trevor was fairly confident that his brother would agree with the protocol change when he came back––if he ever came back. Trey had seemed pretty cozy baking cupcakes.
The elevator ride back to the top floor was crowded with people, all chattering excitedly. He caught Millie’s eye and winked at her over the tops of several people’s heads. She quickly looked away, but he didn’t miss the sly smile that lit up her face.
As they rose through the floors, the elevator stopped periodically, ejecting more and more people until it was just Trevor and Millie left heading up to the top floor––their floor. He sidled up beside her and took ahold of her hand, both of them still facing forward, following basic elevator protocol.
“There are cameras,” Millie whispered out the side of her mouth, as if security would be able to read her lips.
Before he had a chance to respond, the elevator doors slid open to relinquish them on the top floor. Millie yanked her hand away as if she had been burned because there were several people in the waiting area. Her desk phone was ringing incessantly.
When she started to scurry to answer it, Trevor saved her from it by asking, “Could I see you in my office, Miss Parks?”
She halted in her tracks and for a brief moment, her carefully measured composure dropped. She gave him a questioning look. He wasn’t sure if it was due to his all-business tone of voice or his use of such a formal name for her. Quick as a wink, her face morphed into that of his competent, efficient assistant. “Of course, I’ll be right in,” she responded as she stopped by her desk to pick up a notepad and pen.
Several well-wishers greeted Trevor as he made his way back to his office. He shook hands and spoke to them, but quickly moved on. It was fantastic to finally feel like he had earned the right to be in this office. Sure, Trey had started working on the deal, but Trevor had been the one to finish it.
He wondered for a brief moment how Selena Chase had reacted to the news, but then he decided not to be petty. He had won, and she undoubtedly knew it. There was no reason to rub it in.
Millie joined him in th
e office, shutting the door behind her, and perching on the edge of a chair––ready to jot down notes. He rounded his desk, grabbed a binder, and walked to her. Gently taking her hand, he asked her to join him on the couch.
“This is for you.” He handed her the notebook.
“Our Employee Handbook?” she asked him, obviously confused. “Everyone gets one of these when they start working here. I already have one.”
Comprehension dawned on her face then. “I know that I haven’t kept our relationship on a strictly-professional level, and I’m sorry for that. I’ll do better going forward.”
He was touched that she was willing to take the blame for their improprieties. He had been the one doing most of the chasing. “Turn to page 56, please.”
Her crystal blue eyes searched his dark ones for a long moment, trying to figure out if she was in trouble. The fear that she was going to lose her job was unmistakable in her gaze. Wanting to assuage her concerns, he encouraged her to read Section 4, part B.
She read the wording aloud, “Romantic or sexual relationships between employees where one individual has influence or control over the other's conditions of employment, even if consensual, may ultimately result in conflict or difficulties in the workplace. If such a relationship currently exists or develops, it must be disclosed.”
“Disclosed!” Her eyes were wide as she looked up at him. “That used to say ‘terminated.’ I looked it up,” she admitted somewhat sheepishly.
He felt a surge of happiness that she too had perused the Employee Handbook searching for a loophole that would allow them to explore this relationship. “It did used to say that,” he confirmed before adding, “It turns out that it’s pretty easy to change one little word in the handbook when you’re the boss.”