by Jenna Brandt
It wasn’t surprising they would bring up the time when over a dozen reporters ambushed him outside his apartment and started asking all sorts of invasive questions about his personal life. When he refused to comment, one of them cited that he shouldn’t have been featured on Manhattan Magazine’s Most Eligible Bachelor list if he didn’t want the attention. He had pushed through the crowd, trying to get away, and had accidently elbowed one of the reporters. Of course, the angle the news outlets released made it look like he had attacked the other man. It had taken Conrad a pretty penny to quietly settle the lawsuit with the reporter, but the video still remained on the internet for all to see.
After showing the video of the attack for the hundredth time, the tabloid-style TV show cut to the new footage with Brian. “Conrad Gaines is the coldest and most calculating man I have ever known. Don’t get me wrong, he knows how to turn on the charm when he needs to get what he wants, but as soon as he does, he can turn it off just as quick and ice a person out. I mean, I was with him from the very beginning, right when he got out of college, and I helped him build up his company to the global name it is, and he fired me without a second thought.”
Brian spent the next several minutes giving examples of Conrad behaving in callous and cutthroat ways. They were all misconstrued or exaggerated to prove his point, but he knew it wouldn’t matter to the people watching. They were going to eat it up.
“Any words of advice for someone coming into contact with Conrad Gaines, either in a personal or professional way?” the reporter inquired.
“Yes, stay as far away from Conrad Gaines as you can. If you don’t, you’ll regret it.”
Conrad clicked the button to dismiss the pop-up window on his monitor. He leaned back in his chair and let out a heavy sigh. Why did this keep happening to him? Sure, he was a determined man who took all matters in his life seriously, but he didn’t consider himself to be ruthless or callous. If that was how he came off to other people, he wanted to find a way to change it. He just didn’t know how.
Tiffany couldn’t wait to see her new friends at Journey Church. Her parents had never been very religious, occasionally attending to keep up appearances and to socialize for her father’s business. The church they had gone to had been stuffy and rigid, all about rules and protocol. So, she hadn’t loved the idea of going to church when her brother had invited her to go the previous week. If she were honest with herself, she didn’t think it was going to be for her. When she entered the modern, industrial building the first time though, she realized she had the wrong impression of what church could be. The place was comfortable, the people friendly, and the music modern and enjoyable. The pastor’s sermon had been exactly what Tiffany needed; like a glass of cold water on a hot summer day. It left her feeling encouraged and wanting to come back.
As Tiffany approached the doors that lead into the main room of the church, an older woman with graying brown hair and a friendly smile stopped her. She handed her a bulletin with the church’s name on it.
“It’s good to see you again. How are you doing today, Tiffany?” Diane inquired.
“I’m doing good. How about yourself?” Tiffany politely asked in return.
“Fine, other than my grandson is sporting a broken heart after his latest breakup. He’s a good boy, he just goes for the wrong type of women.” Giving Tiffany a hopeful look, she added, “I haven’t seen you around here with any men besides your brother. Are you dating anyone?”
Tiffany’s eyes grew round with surprise. She hadn’t expected the woman to question her about her relationship status and had a bad feeling she was about to be fixed up on a blind date if she didn’t navigate this carefully. “I’m not; work keeps me way too busy.”
“It’s not good to focus all your time and attention on a career, Tiffany. You need to let there be room for more,” Diane gently reprimanded. “Why don’t you take a chance on my grandson? You never know, the two of you might hit it off.”
“I really don’t think I have the time—”
Before Tiffany could finish her objection, Diane was waving her grandson over to her side. “This is Timothy. He just finished his medical degree at Columbia and has already been recruited to do his internship at Johns Hopkins. Timothy, this is Tiffany Boswell. She works for her brother at Boswell Oil.”
Timothy was good looking, with a tall, lean build, and black hair and green eyes. Though she could tell he didn’t like what was happening any more than she did, he reached out his hand to her. “Nice to meet you, Tiffany.”
Not feeling she had any other choice, Tiffany took the man’s outstretched hand. “Likewise.” Glancing between them, she added, “Like I was telling your grandmother, I’m very busy co-running my family’s business,” she gently corrected, wanting to make it clear she didn’t just work for her brother.
Timothy gave a nod. “I understand. I’m busy myself with preparing for my internship.”
“You weren’t too busy to date that little twit who broke your heart,” Diane interjected with irritation. “Tiffany would be a way better option.”
“Grandma, I understand that you’re only trying to help, but Tiffany has made it quite clear she doesn’t have the time.” Then turning his attention back to Tiffany, he added, “If your schedule ever frees up, maybe we can meet up for coffee sometime.”
Tiffany didn’t want to encourage the man, so she stood there trying to think of what to say. Luckily, the familiar voice of Celeste Allen, Roger’s fiancée, interrupted, allowing her to remain quiet. “Good morning, Tiffany. I’m so glad you’re here.”
“Thanks,” Tiffany replied with relief, as Celeste came rushing up to her and pulling her into a friendly embrace. Awkwardly, Tiffany hugged the other woman back. Physical affection, actually affection of any kind, wasn’t something Boswells displayed, but she was learning that she didn’t have to be that way. Since attending church and watching her brother with Celeste and his son, Marcus, she realized she could break the bad habits their parents had taught them.
“How are the wedding plans coming?” Tiffany inquired as she pulled back from the hug. “We should probably go talk about them,” she suggested, wanting to get away from Diane and Timothy as quickly as possible.
Celeste looked at everyone as if sizing up the situation. Then a knowing look crossed her face as she looped her arm through Tiffany’s, saying, “Yes, yes, we need to talk about the wedding right now.” Once they were far enough away that no one could hear them, Celeste inquired, “What was that all about?”
“Diane was trying to fix me up with her grandson.”
“You could do worse,” Celeste pointed out, glancing over at the soon-to-be doctor. “Timothy is smart, nice, and making a name for himself in the medical world, not to mention handsome.”
“Don’t let Roger hear you saying that.”
“Roger knows how much I love him. Everyone pales in comparison to him for me. I just don’t want you to work so hard at Boswell Oil that you give up on love. You deserve to find someone to spend your life with,” Celeste encouraged.
“My parents haven’t been a glowing example of a happy marriage. Add to it how Artie treated me, and I don’t even know if I would ever entertain the idea of going down that road myself.”
“You just need to find the right guy, Tiffany, and that hasn’t happened yet.”
“Let’s focus on your wedding, because despite how it started out between you and my brother, the two of you have managed to show me there is at least one good relationship in the world.”
“See, it can happen,” Celeste stated optimistically.
“Sure, but a good relationship is like a flawless diamond, rarely seen. Plus, I’m betting you only get one per family.” Wanting to change the subject, Tiffany asked, “So, how is everything going with the wedding?”
“Good, really good. I’m surprised how involved Roger has been—most men don’t care about wedding details.”
Tiffany quirked an eyebrow. “My brother isn’t l
ike most guys. He’s always liked planning a good party, even as a kid, he went over every detail with my mother for his birthday parties.”
“I do, and I won’t apologize for it,” Roger chimed in, coming up to stand beside them.
“It’s not that; I’m just worried what it means for me. I don’t want to end up in some couture dress I can’t breathe in because it’s the latest fashion from Paris and you insist it’s the must-have for the bridesmaids,” Tiffany pointed out.
Roger shook his head. “Celeste put her foot down when I tried to give my input about the dresses. She said that was strictly women’s territory.”
Tiffany smiled with gratitude. “I see my soon-to-be sister-in-law has my back. I like that.”
“I do. Us ladies need to stick together, especially when we have Roger trying to charm us into something we don’t want,” Celeste teased, looping her arm through Tiffany’s. “Let’s go find a seat before the place fills up.”
Journey Church was in the heart of SoHo and so popular, most Sundays ended up being standing room only in the back. If they wanted a seat, they needed to get in the sanctuary early.
They made their way into the main part of the church, found seats towards the middle of the room. Several church attendees came up and greeted them, shaking their hands and exchanging pleasantries.
The lights dimmed, the music started to play, and everyone stood and started singing. The lyrics of the contemporary worship songs were displayed on the screens to either side of the stage. Each song was better than the last, and by the end, Tiffany was relaxed, her spirit refreshed, and she was ready to hear the message.
Pastor Greg made his way to the middle of the stage and took his place behind a glass podium. He was wearing his usual jeans and button-up shirt along with a friendly smile.
“Good morning, Journey Church. It’s so good to see all of you here this morning. Can you believe the holidays are approaching? I know we all get busy during this time of year, but I want to talk about not allowing your busy schedule to keep you from the most important things in life.”
The pastor spent the next twenty minutes talking about prioritizing God and family above all the other parts of life that seem to take our focus. By the end of it, Tiffany realized that she might be doing that, but she wasn’t sure how to change it. She needed to make the new solar energy division of Boswell Oil a success if she was going to prove her worth. That type of task left little time for anything else, but she felt a nagging in her heart that she needed to listen to what the pastor was saying and make a change.
When Pastor Greg asked if anyone wanted to give their lives to God, without knowing why, her hand shot up. As the warmth of joy in her new decision filled her from the inside out, she realized she had just made the right choice to change her life for the better.
4
Today was the day he was going to make progress with Tiffany Boswell. Over the past week, she had kept Conrad at arm’s length, engaging with him when she needed, but halting their progress by second-guessing his every suggestion and opinion.
It also didn’t help that he found her more and more attractive every time he was around her, despite his best efforts to remind himself he wasn’t there to pursue Tiffany Boswell. Every once-in-awhile, he would get a whiff of her intoxicating scent of lavender and honey, and he would swear it was like standing on a mountain top in the middle of spring. She was so pretty, with her baby-blue eyes and golden blonde hair. He often found himself wanting to reach out and touch her locks to see if they felt as soft as they looked.
Though all of that was true, it didn’t help him to be thinking about it. He needed to be focused on getting the merger finished so he could finally get his revenge on Roger, but that couldn’t happen with Tiffany’s constant distrust of him. He had to find a way to get her to relax around him and stop putting up blocks every step of the way.
During his time working with her, he realized she loved coffee just as much as he did. Though the coffee machine at Boswell Oil was adequate, it wasn’t nearly as good as the one he had at home. He figured coffee was his way of getting her to trust him.
“Here you go,” Conrad said, handing Tiffany a cup of coffee he brought from home for her. “I brought this for you.”
Tiffany looked at the cup with disdain as if it was filled with poison. She took it begrudgingly and placed it to the side of the conference table.
“What’s wrong with the coffee I gave you?”
“I don’t drink coffee given to me by men I don’t trust,” she explained. “And you should know, a cup of coffee isn’t going to change my opinion of you.”
“Even if it’s the best coffee in the world? I can guarantee you, it is,” he boasted, picking the cup back up and handing it to her a second time.
With an irritated sigh, she took the offering from him. “I don’t even know why I’m doing this,” she mumbled under her breath.
“I’m thinking the temptation to prove me wrong is too great,” he jested with a lopsided grin.
Tiffany took a dainty sip of the drink, and he could tell she was resisting the urge to smile. She shrugged. “It’s decent.”
Conrad started pulling out the files he brought with him, but out of the corner of his eye, he saw Tiffany take several more sips from the cup.
“Are you wondering where I got the coffee?” Conrad probed.
She took a seat in a chair beside him and let her manicured cream nails tap on the edge of the table. “I suppose you’re going to tell me.”
“I brewed it myself.”
A look of surprise crossed her face. “You did? Wouldn’t you just have your personal chef do it for you?”
“I don’t have one of those.”
“How do you eat?” Tiffany squeaked out in confusion.
Conrad forgot that she was born into wealth, unlike himself. She didn’t understand that personal chefs weren’t the norm for most people. “I eat out mostly, but I keep a few items on hand like bread for toast, a couple of salads, and of course, espresso beans for this.” He lifted his own cup of java and took a swig.
“I have to admit, your coffee is good. As good as any I’ve had at a coffee shop. If I didn’t know any better, I would think it was from The Brew House.”
“That’s because it basically is,” he explained. “I bought the exact machine they use along with the same beans and milk. Then I asked one of their baristas to show me how they make the drink. It took me a few times, but Carrie was patient with me.”
“Carrie?” Tiffany inquired with an arched eyebrow and a smug look on her face. “Let me guess, she came over to your place to do the teaching?”
Instantly, Conrad realized she thought he had a relationship with the barista. Wanting to clarify, he shook his head. “No, nothing like that. I came into the shop after hours and paid her for her time.”
Tiffany seemed to relax a bit and her face softened. “I think—”
The door opened to the conference room and the rest of the men Boswell Senior hand-picked for the solar division came into the room. Every one of them annoyed Conrad. He despised men who wore pretentiousness and entitlement like a badge of honor.
“Did you start without us?” Tony Wilson inquired with a dirty look. “We were told to be here at 9:30 sharp.”
“No, I wanted to give myself a few minutes with Mr. Gaines to make sure we were on the same page when presenting the information to all of you,” Tiffany explained. Gesturing to the empty seats, she added, “Why don’t all of you take a seat?”
The men did as instructed; though they didn’t seem happy about the situation. Conrad watched Tiffany shift from a somewhat relaxed attitude to a tense one in mere seconds.
Tiffany pulled out a stack of papers, handing one out to each of the men at the table. Conrad skimmed the one in his hands, confirming it was all of the details they had worked out over the past couple of days.
“What’s this part about incentives? I don’t understand why they are modified accordi
ng to production,” Tony grumbled. “We’re going to need all the help we can get to find salesmen ready to promote this ridiculous endeavor. We’re a blasted oil company after all.”
“That’s right, Tony, we are an oil company that’s in the business of supplying energy for a profit. Why should we settle for only a piece of the energy industry when we can find a way into other divisions?”
“Next you’ll be wanting us to get into windmills,” a second man next to Tony complained.
“Or water turbines,” a third man across from them added snidely.
This caused the whole table to chuckle except Tiffany and Conrad. Her eyes narrowed as she snapped, “So what if I decide to do that? I’m in charge of this company, and if I think any of those options will turn a profit, I’m going to make it happen.”
“I wouldn’t get too big for your britches, or should I say, skirt,” Tony mocked with a smirk.
“That’s enough,” Conrad thundered, his eyes narrowing into angry slits, irked that the men thought it acceptable to behave in such a way. “This is a solid plan for the solar energy division. Miss Boswell has spent an extensive amount of time going over all the details, leaving nothing to chance. Either you need to fall in line, or you need to ask to be transferred to another division. Let me assure you, when Boswell Senior is informed of that choice, you won’t be finding yourself in his favor. He personally wants to see this new division thrive.”
Conrad’s speech sobered up every man at the table, each of them burying their faces in the piece of paper in front of them. The rest of the meeting, the men listened to Tiffany without interruption, allowing her to get through her presentation. By the end of it, they were in a position to move into the next phase of the plan for the roll out of the solar energy division.