Grace couldn’t be diplomatic any longer. “I don’t want a party in that house.”
“It’s my house now,” Jen countered with a softer approach. “Here is your house, Grace. But my house—that’s where it all began for us. I feel that it’s a perfect place for the family to reconnect.”
“I think she has a point, sweetheart.”
Neither one of them could understand why Grace didn’t want to go back there to celebrate anything to do with her life. Her mother had ripped her to shreds when Grace announced that she and Henry were in love. All her mother’s talk about love, Prince Charming, and soul mates had only been for Jen. What she’d saved for Grace had put her in the same trade as women on the street who lived by lesser means. Her mother had never struck her as a child. But that day, the strike on her cheek had left a wound beyond physical swelling and discoloration. Her father had prayed for her salvation and then handed her a suitcase. Her crime had been falling in love and leaving her sister to be the fodder for small-town gossip.
Grace had worked hard to redeem herself in her own eyes. Job after job, climbing the ranks, earning higher places on the social ladder. When she’d become a mother, she’d hoped that now she was part of a family sisterhood and her mother would open her doors to her. Not once did her mother invite Grace home. When she did visit the house, her mother used Jen to send her away. Her father did meet and play with the grandchildren, but he wouldn’t cross her mother on matters on the home front.
Grace never claimed to be a saint. She held on to each hurt, around which scar tissue grew like a thick shield, protecting her from the feelings of rejection. Jen had her own levels of anger, and maybe hate, and went along with their parents’ wishes until their passing. Their father died early of a heart attack, while their mother eventually had to be cared for in a home for patients with dementia. Only then could Grace visit her ailing mother without risk of being thrown out of the house. During those visits to the home, she became just a family friend who resembled someone that her mother couldn’t remember.
“Grace, dear, why don’t you think about it?”
Grace suddenly felt tired. Not sleepy. Not exhausted. Just drained. This unexpected visit had taken her down too many paths to sadness and pain.
“I must get back to work.”
Her sister gathered her pocketbook. “I’m not going to back down, Grace. You’re taking care of Meadows Media. Well, I’m taking care of the family.”
“Dana knows my wishes.”
“And she’ll be busy trying to step into your shoes. How can she possibly do your bidding when it comes to family matters? As complicated as they are.” Jen scooted herself to the edge of her chair. “And I expect that you want everyone to show up.”
“Okay, ladies, no need to fight over the family. We’re all under one umbrella.”
Grace always knew that Jen would turn the screw one notch tighter.
Chapter 12
Dana sat in front of her mirror, witnessing a transformation from a regular person who happened to be working at the top of Meadows Media. Within the hour, she had undergone a metamorphosis. Additional hairpieces added volume to her styled, gelled tresses. Her makeup was layered on thick to even her skin tone, accentuate her best features and mask any unflattering parts.
At Grace’s insistence, an entire wardrobe was custom designed just for her. She didn’t believe in buying off the rack or accepting clothes from designers. Everything should denote quality and exclusivity. Dana didn’t quite buy into that philosophy, but she also didn’t mind having clothes that perfectly fit her body.
“We’re ready for Miss Meadows.”
Dana followed the program director to the main stage. She listened to the instructions and hoped that she’d be able to recall them when the time came. Her heart thudded against her chest. When she looked down at her blouse, she could actually see the pounding against the fabric.
“Let’s get you into position.”
Dana joined the panel that also was settling into place. This morning show covered news, local business, and light celebrity gossip. She introduced herself to the other panelists, who included a local chef who made it to the final round on a televised competition, the CEO of a local bank, and the owner of a hair products store.
Kent and Grace had decided that it was time for Dana to step up and conduct interviews. For the better part of the months in which Dana had been acting CEO, Grace had still conducted any interviews. Not having to be interviewed certainly took the pressure off Dana, but left her vulnerable to criticism that she wasn’t ready for the scrutiny. Kent had prepped her for media attention and how to answer any tricky questions a host might throw her way. A few local interviews would allow her to test her abilities, check her response when thinking on her feet, and gauge reactions from people who didn’t have a vested interest in impressing her. The program director signaled for them to get ready. The countdown began. In less than five seconds, the news would start and then switch to the host for the business segment after a short commercial break.
Dana kept a smile on her face, even when the camera wasn’t on her. She’d seen enough blooper reels to know that you never relaxed until you were safely in another room. Plus, she wanted to give off the impression that she was calm and a pro at this type of interview. The board meeting was in less than a month. When Grace made the announcement, Dana wanted to be seen as the next generation to successfully take on her grandmother’s legacy.
Another commercial break started. Their segment was next up. She listened to the host make the introductory remarks. Her gaze pinned each guest with eye-to-eye contact and a curt nod. Before she came on the program, she’d thought they would bring in all CEOs of similar types of businesses. Dana’s stomach immediately started to churn. How to predict what questions would be asked? “LaSalle, let’s start with you. You’re a local cook.”
“Yes. I started at fast food and then worked my way through many kitchens. I tried out for the show and got in. Yeah!”
The hostess asked, “Has anyone here been to his restaurant?”
They shook their heads.
“I’m sure when you win that final you’ll have a line going out the door.”
“What about you, Mr. Caphorn? You have opened branches of your bank all over our city.”
“And that’s a good thing. Accessibility and number of branches or ATMs make a difference.”
“With the slam that banks have taken, why would anyone start one in this economy?”
“It’s exactly in this economy that small banks that cater to the community are warranted. We can be flexible to meet the current market needs and switch things around faster than any corporate bank with crazy fees.”
“Miss Meadows—”
“I’m interested to know why we can’t get an audience with Miss Meadows,” Caphorn interrupted. “Why not use a community bank for all your financial needs? I’m sure we can help each other.”
Dana looked at the hostess, then back at Caphorn.
“I was going to ask who designed your fabulous attire, but now I’m interested in Caphorn’s suggestion. So, what of it? Can I be the matchmaker for your two businesses?”
This blindsiding question knocked her back a bit. While some might have found Caphorn’s brash approach appealing, the style grated on Dana’s nerves. If he truly wanted her business, instead of making a spectacle of himself, he could have talked to her after the show.
“I do believe in helping businesses grow. I support the Chamber of Commerce and all that it does to help business people like us to network with one another.”
“But Meadows Media. Seems like they close ranks.”
“What about you, since you were brought in over many others, to this show? How do you feel?” The hostess addressed the owner of the hair products store.
“
I had to build my store from scratch.” The woman tossed Dana a nasty look.
“I earned my way to the top,” the bank manager said.
“Well, Miss Meadows? What do you have to say to those who think that the path to success should be as easy as yours?”
“I’d say that you shouldn’t judge unless the soapbox you’re standing on can withstand the same scrutiny.” Dana turned to the owner of the hair products store. “Each company had to start somewhere. Meadows Media was started by one woman, my grandmother. She cared for it the way you care for your store. She put in long hours to make it successful, like I’m sure you’re doing. When she found something that worked, she followed through with it. When it didn’t, she let it go.” Dana leaned in on her elbows. “But unless you’re planning to live forever, I’d say that you’d better have a succession plan in place. My grandmother did. It happens to be me. Qualified and able to do the job.” She turned her undivided attention to Caphorn, who had recognized too late that he had entered dangerous waters. “Our leadership hasn’t changed hands often. Hasn’t been bought out by anyone. Hasn’t changed its last name since inception. While I’m at the helm, the staff will remain loyal and hardworking.”
“And on that note, we’ll head to commercial. When we return, we talk to Dana about taking on the large responsibility of being acting CEO.”
Dana could barely wait for the director to signal a commercial break, then she addressed the hostess. “I was under the impression that this was a news interview. For the community. Not a reality show face-off.”
“Not to worry. You’re all doing fine. Love the dynamics,” the hostess remarked.
No one else spoke during the break.
“And we’re back with spotlight on business owners and the feisty successor to Meadows Media. Must be in the DNA, won’t you agree?” Everyone laughed, except Dana.
She couldn’t toss off the silly comments, the leading questions, and their naïve thinking that she couldn’t handle herself. She could do more than handle, she could shut it down.
“Ah, Dana, we actually have confirmed reports from employees who wish to remain anonymous that they have grave reservations about your leadership,” the hostess said.
Dana pretended to fix her clothes and looked at her watch. They had bled over into the celebrity news. She guessed she just found out who they were going to target. Irritation continued to build.
“Anything, Dana?”
“You want me to address faceless reports? Meadows Media isn’t a fortress where, once you’ve come in, you can’t get out. Employees are valued. Loyalty is rewarded. If the two conflict, then my advice would be to seek employment elsewhere.”
“So you’re putting your staff on notice.”
“No. I’m addressing again the nameless and faceless reports that you toss at me.” Dana sat back in her chair, folded her arms, and determined from that point that she would no longer respond to any questions.
The cameraman couldn’t get enough of her scowl. No matter how hard she tried not to look in the camera, at the monitors, she was clearly giving him a piece of her mind with each glower.
By the time the interview was over, Dana pulled off the mic, gathered her things and left with her mini entourage. As she was leaving, Caphorn tried to make nice—much too late. The chef tried to shove a box of samples in her hand. Dana flicked her wrist over to Sasha who took the treats, but wisely kept them out of Dana’s reach. The trash can was only a few feet away.
Dana exited the building. Someone called her name.
“Miss Meadows, I want you to know that I think you will be a marvelous business leader. You’ll make us all proud.”
Dana remembered the TV intern who saw to her beverage requests when she’d arrived. Dana offered a nod. She handed the college student her business card. “If you should need anything...”
“Your car is over here.” Sasha touched her elbow to guide her in the right direction.
“I don’t want to be interviewed by that woman ever again. Didn’t we ask her what the topic would be? This didn’t feel like a general overview. Not in the least.” Dana was still seething.
“We will send a letter to the television network.” The newest addition to Meadows’s PR staff piped up.
“Why don’t you have a follow-up feature on the Meadows Business Network?” Sasha suggested.
“I don’t want to come across as desperate. I’m not running for public office.” Public perception. She hated those words.
“It’s Grace.” Her phone had been ringing. She knew that her grandmother would call, especially since Dana had so casually tossed out that those who didn’t like her could quit.
Dana took the phone. “Yes, Grace.”
Her grandmother sighed through the speaker. “It could have been worse. Let’s wait to see what the fallout is.” Then she hung up.
Her grandmother hadn’t taken her to task. She hadn’t issued any condemnation over the matter. Only then did Dana relax as she entered the car.
“Is everything okay, Dana?” Sasha said from where she sat beside her. She already knew that Kent’s criticism wouldn’t be so accommodating. He wouldn’t want to wait to see what the fallout would be. His philosophy was that you should never set yourself up to be a target. His philosophy would say that she wasn’t ready to be CEO.
Sasha said, “Emails are coming in, requesting you on several shows. I wouldn’t recommend many of them, but there are a few good, meaty ones. I’m sure by the end of the day, you’ll have a ton to pick from.”
By the time Dana reached her office, she was revved up and in high spirits. Her dark mood had lifted. She was ready to dive into work for the remainder of the afternoon, which included lunch with the mayor, meeting with the human resources and legal departments, signing her approval on personnel realignment—with Grace’s blessing—and then an industry-sponsored dinner.
Still no word from Kent about her TV show appearance.
By eleven o’clock, she was steamrolled. She was beyond exhausted and couldn’t wait to take a quick shower and hit the bed. She and Kent had played phone tag all day. His dance card also seemed to be filling up with the results of Grace’s endorsement at the reception. As a result, time spent in each other’s arms had been far too infrequent for her liking.
She walked into her house and kicked off her shoes. The scent of hot chocolate wafted through the air. She sniffed and followed the trail to the source. Kent was at the stove stirring a pot with a red apron tied around his waist without another stitch of clothing.
“What are you making?” Dana’s mouth watered because it smelled so good.
“Real hot chocolate.”
“Looks rich and will keep me up at night.” She saw the remaining chocolate bars on the counter.
“Trust me. I’ll have you sleeping like a baby.”
Dana rubbed his naked behind. The only thing shielding his front was the red apron. “What if I’d brought home friends?” She giggled at the thought.
He shrugged. “I took the risk.” He poured her a glass of wine and handed it to her.
She kept a hand on his behind, pleased to see a rising bump in the front.
“Your bath awaits you.”
“Really? But you didn’t know when I was coming home.”
“I have my methods.” Kent kissed her lightly and scooted back when she tried to reach behind the apron.
“Sasha! I must talk to her,” Dana remembered suddenly.
“Then you won’t get surprises like this.” He returned his attention to the pot on the stove and moved it onto a cold burner.
Forget Sasha.
Dana continued sipping the wine. She discovered the small plate of crackers and sliced cheeses. What had she done to deserve this?
“For your first interview.”
&nb
sp; She looked down at the neatly wrapped box now lying on his palm. Many thoughts and emotions ran through her mind. One especially had hold of her, a fantasy of what-ifs. She didn’t dare think about that now or put words to what she could barely allow herself to imagine.
Tentatively, she pulled apart the wrapping and then opened the box. A beautiful string of pearls lay against velvet matting.
“My mother always said that a string of pearls added a touch of class to any picture or look. Ever since I met you, I am continually amazed by your tenacity and brilliant mind.”
“You’re making me blush.”
“I’m not offering false compliments. You’re one classy woman and I wanted to give you something that, when you wore it, would remind you of us.”
He looked ready to continue, but restrained himself.
“I’ll go jump into the bathtub.” Dana couldn’t stand there another minute without bawling. She didn’t doubt for one second the sincere note in his voice when he’d spoken. But he didn’t really know her, just the parts that needed to be shown to run Meadows Media. No one stuck around her for long. They came in, attracted by the glamour of her social status, latched on like a barnacle to a ship and then moved on, but only after she kicked them out of her life. None of that description fit Kent. But there had never been enough substance in her personal life that would keep him for the long term. She fingered the pearls, a symbol of class, the new identity that she wanted as CEO.
“I left room in the tub so you could fill with hot water to warm it up, if necessary.”
“You know, you’re too special.” Dana was overwhelmed by his thoughtfulness.
“Only when it counts.”
The air between them went from casually romantic to erotically charged in an instant. What was he offering? To ask would mean the answer was important to her. More than important—kind of life and death for her soul. Dana hurried to her room. Her exhaustion must be causing this wave of sentimentality to settle. It felt good. She could learn to like having a man around, someone to come home to at the end of the day. Having it all—a career, family, and a man—was an idea that she didn’t usually entertain.
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