Rising

by Laurelin Paige

  I reminded myself I was playing nice before answering. “I hear good things about him. It’s an interesting direction.”

  “It’s not what we discussed, I know. You’re still my first choice, but if Hudson’s picked his horse to back, then we have a problem. Because of the risks involved with Glamplay, we really need to have more support across the stockholders.”

  I closed my fist and dug my fingernails into my palm. I’d been the one who had presented him with the risks of Glamplay, and now the man was acting as though he’d thought of it himself. It reminded me of another reason I wanted to be at the helm of Werner—because Warren was a douche and deserved to see his age-old rival sitting in his place.

  “Now, here’s an idea—you could go after Glamplay, buy up those stocks, and then we’d definitely have the strength we need to push a merger.”

  It was hard not to laugh. Yes. Great idea. Too bad Hudson had already had it six years earlier.

  “They’ve refused to sell,” I said, implying I’d already approached them. It wasn’t exactly a lie. Hudson had made it clear he wasn’t going to hand those stocks over anytime soon.

  “Really?” Warren considered. “If they’re not open to selling, then they’d have to vote however I do. Maybe we would have a shot at a merger after all.”

  If only it were that easy.

  “I think your first notion was right. It’s better to have Pierce on our side. We should stay the course.” God, it hurt saying it.

  “Then this alliance is a good idea. Show Hudson what you're made of, build his trust. Later on down the line, when this fuss with Ron has quieted down and Werner doesn’t have so much media attention, we come back to the idea of a merger then.”

  I hated to admit it, but he had a point. This alliance was an opportunity to win Hudson’s trust. Show him Celia was no longer a threat. In the future, maybe a merger. Or, perhaps, he would be amenable to selling his shares.

  Werner could still be mine.

  One way or another, it would be mine.

  Bolstered by the knowledge that this quest wasn’t over, I gave him the reassurance I knew he was seeking. “Good points, Warren. Good plan.”

  He nodded, as though my approval didn’t matter as much as I knew it did. “Celia will like this too. Always a good idea to keep the wife happy.”

  I frowned. “Celia? Has she said something?”

  The lift dinged then and the doors opened. “Nothing we haven’t already discussed,” he said, following his assistants into the lift. “Pointed out the risks. Said the timing was bad. Hey, we’ll talk more. Come over for dinner, and we’ll celebrate.”

  The doors shut, and I was left to wonder exactly what the conversation had been between my wife and her father.

  I couldn’t stand there for long, though. I had my own daughter to talk to.

  Back in the room, I approached her while she was busy unhooking her laptop from the projector. “Genevieve. You had a hand in this proposal?”

  Her face fell, guilt written across her expression. Stepping away from her task, she gave me her full attention. “I’m sorry, Daddy. I’m sure this feels like a betrayal. I know you wanted to run Werner Media yourself.”

  Playing nice worked with the men. With my daughter, I’d have to take it to a whole other level. There was no way I could live with myself if she had to carry this as a weight. I’d kept her away from my vengeful dealings so she wouldn’t be poisoned by my rage. All the pushing away would have been in vain if I let her be poisoned by my feelings now.

  Swallowing any traces of lingering emotion, I gave her the most laid-back, most unaffected version of her father I could muster.

  In other words, I lied.

  “I did want to run Werner Media. Until this morning when Celia broke into tears and told me she really wishes we could stay in London. I wasn’t looking forward to telling her father that I wasn’t going to take his position. This solves that dilemma.” I smiled, hoping it was sincere enough to pull off the sham.

  Her eyes shone bright with hope, and any doubts I had about deceiving her vanished. “Then you’re not mad?”

  “I’m not mad.” Not at her, anyway. At myself, yes. And who else, I wasn’t sure.

  But there were other things I genuinely felt about her. “I’m surprised,” I admitted. “I’m also quite impressed. A lot of work went into this. Lots of those ideas I recognize as yours. It’s first-rate.”

  “You think so, even though you don’t want me working in the business?” There was a catch in her voice, and for the first time I realized all the real damage I’d done in keeping her at a distance.

  I moved closer, as if that one step could bridge all the steps away I’d taken over decades. “The only reason I haven’t wanted you working in this business was because I truly thought you’d be happier elsewhere. You’ve had ambitious goals for Accelecom, and I feared you’d never be able to achieve what you wanted if you stayed with us, but it seems you’ve found a way to make them possible. I’m proud of you, princess.”

  Her eyes glistened, and I wasn’t sure if it was me or her who reached first, but the next thing I knew, I was holding her. Clinging onto her in a way I hadn’t since she was little. Something tightened in my chest and stretched up to the back of my throat, making it hard to swallow, and for a moment, I wasn’t sure that I could stand anymore if she weren’t in my arms, holding me up.

  We held each other like that for long seconds. When she pulled away, she swiped a tear from her cheek before she spoke, her eyes cast down at my shoes. “I know you’re bluffing, Dad. You’re disappointed. I know you don’t like me to see your feelings because...well, I don’t really know why you hide so much from me. Because you think I won’t see you as strong maybe. Or because you don’t think a man should show his emotions.”

  She looked up at me then, bravely. “Whatever the reason, I want you to know that you’ll always loom tall in my eyes. You’re my hero, and that’s all there is to it. I’m super proud to be your daughter, whether you run every company in the world or none at all.”

  She’d got me. Right in the heart.

  “Genevieve.” I pulled her back into my arms. She’d left me speechless, and I needed another moment to simply hold her tight before I could respond.

  “It wasn’t all a bluff,” I said, when I had enough voice to manage a harsh rasp, her head still pressed against my shoulder. “I really do have higher hopes for you than Accelecom. There are better places, better people to align yourself with.” I was positive she’d have a job working for Pierce Industries before the day was over, and as much as it pained me to think it, I knew they’d treat her better than I had.

  I drew away from her so I could look her in the eyes, needing her to hear this next part—to really hear it. “And I am so proud of you. So very proud, which is entirely ridiculous because I can’t take any credit for the woman you’ve become. I’m proud just to know you, I suppose. It’s one of the greatest honors of my life.”

  With two straight fingers, she wiped at her eyes. “Daddy, stop. I’m working right now, and you’re making me a blubbery mess.” She swatted me playfully. “And shut up about not being able to take the credit. I’m all you, you prat. For good or bad, who I am is completely your fault.”

  “In that case, maybe you should be congratulating me.” I cleared my throat, and eyed Hudson’s younger brother, eager to move to a less sentimental subject. “This Pierce boy…”

  “He’s not a boy.” She rolled her eyes, but it was her blush that gave her away. As I’d suspected, they’d gotten close.

  Which made me really tempted to pull him away from his brother so I could break every bone in his body.

  But I was a somewhat civilized man and reasonable enough to know that she was old enough to make decisions for herself—for good or bad, to use her words—and if this boy was one of the decisions she wanted to make, I had to let that be her choice.

  There was one thing I needed to know, though. “He’s good to you
?”

  “Mm.” She peered over at him, her lips twisted. “He’s trying to be. I think that’s what counts. And I like him, a whole heap, so you can stop perusing him like he’s prey.”

  A growl rumbled in the back of my throat. I expected better than “trying to be” good for my daughter.

  “Please, Dad,” she said, sounding a little more like she had when she’d been a teen than when she’d delivered her speech only thirty minutes before.

  “Fine,” I conceded. “But if he hurts you in any way—”

  “I know, I know.”

  “You tell him that.”

  “Would you…?” She pushed at me with her shoulder, nudging me toward the door where Hagan was waiting with our things. “I’m good. Go. Meeting’s over.”

  “I’m going,” I said, chuckling. “I’m going.”

  The second walk down the hall was less tense. The episode with Genevieve had loosened something in me. Unwound me. My steps felt lighter. The weight of disappointment felt not so burdensome.

  Hagan was business as usual, chattering at my side. “I set up a meeting for us next week with Pierce’s chief finance officer and that Murphy guy, and I sent a text back to the London office. I’ll brief them this afternoon, if you’d like. Or, if you’d rather. Oh, and I heard something.”

  “Heard what?”

  “Gen mentioned that Celia was the one who arranged for Warren to be there today.”

  “Celia?” That didn’t make sense. There were a dozen ways Pierce’s office could contact Warren. Using Celia for a business arrangement was not the most effective method of communication.

  Unless.

  I stopped abruptly and looked back at the conference room just as Hudson walked out with his financial officer. With a handful of strides, I was standing in front of him. “I’ve a question for you, if you don’t mind.”

  “Certainly.” His tone said he was only surprised that I only had one.

  There actually were several I would love to pose to him, if given the chance, but at the moment, there was only one that seemed important. “Would you have considered giving me the position if Celia hadn’t intervened?”

  It was a hunch. A gut feeling that I couldn’t explain, but in my experience, my gut feelings very often paid out when I listened to them.

  And sure enough, I was onto something. Hudson’s usual austere expression had slipped into one of surprise, which might have indicated he had no idea what I was talking about, except for the way his eyes darted. That said he was hiding something. His surprise wasn’t that I’d asked an odd question but that I’d known to ask it at all.

  I held the higher card now, so I pressed on. “It’s a fair question. After being denied a coveted position, a candidate has a right to know whether he even had a shot.”

  He took a slow breath in, his features composing as he did. “It is a fair question, and you deserve a truthful answer. I’m not sure whether she helped you or she hurt you. But she is the reason Warren thinks he has any say in this decision. I’d mark that as a victory, if I were you.”

  “Thank you. You’ve been very helpful.” I ignored the outstretched hand he offered and turned back to Hagan, resuming my walk to the lift at a brisk pace, the earlier rage roaring over me in a gust.

  I’d been right, then. I had been betrayed.

  And the one who had betrayed me had been none other than my wife.

  Six

  Celia

  I’d been pacing the hotel suite for two hours, checking my phone every five minutes while I waited for news from my father. Not that he’d necessarily update me right away. It would probably be my mother who would call and only if what happened at his meeting was interesting enough for him to tell her, and then interesting enough to her to pass on to me.

  It occurred to me I might have a better chance of getting the story if I waited at my parents’ house, and I’d called to say I was headed over earlier only to be told that Dad was going straight to the club when he was done, and my mother was headed to lunch with “the girls,” whoever her gossip buddies were this month.

  “Call me right away if you hear anything from Dad, will you?” I’d begged earlier.

  “Sure,” she’d said, distracted. Then, “You want me to tell you about a business meeting of his?”

  “It’s regarding his replacement,” I’d said impatiently, for the third time. Not wanting to explain more, I’d twisted the truth into a lie. “I want to know if he’s changed his mind about working with Edward. So I can know if I need to prepare to comfort my husband or make reservations for celebrating.”

  “Oh, that’s right,” she’d said in a way that made me pretty sure she’d forget again as soon as I hung up. “I’ll call if I hear anything.”

  Now, it was almost three hours later, and I hadn’t heard a word.

  Frustrated, I paused my pacing and texted her. Any news yet?

  I hit send and then decided it was probably a good idea to clarify. From Daddy?

  It took several minutes for her reply so I jumped when the notification pinged.

  Mom: Only talked briefly. He says things are good. Ask Edward for more details. He was there as well.

  Considering I’d asked her to give me the update so that I could be prepared for Edward, her text was not very helpful.

  Except that she’d filled me in on something I hadn’t even thought to consider—Edward had been at the meeting as well.

  Fuck.

  Why had Edward been there? Chandler had asked me to get a meeting with my father. When had that invitation been extended to Edward? Did that mean Hudson had changed his mind? Was he giving over the top spot to Edward after all?

  After our last encounter, it was possible, but didn’t seem likely.

  Then Edward had to have been there because my father had taken him along. Which meant he probably argued any alternative CEO suggested. Which meant Hudson had very definitely argued back, and though there were a dozen different ways I could imagine the scenario going from there, I was pretty sure many of them ended in the same way—with Edward in a rage.

  There was a chance he wouldn’t come straight home after. He spent most of his days in his temporary office, and even if he did come home, he might not give any indication that he’d had a bad day, seeing how he barely gave me any indication of his days at all as of late.

  But if things had gone very, very badly for him, if he had any reason to blame me...

  Going to my parents’ house was once again appealing. Very appealing.

  I turned my pacing into a purposeful stride, slipping on a pair of flats, searching for where I’d left my purse, finding it at the far end of the living room next to the sofa. After checking to make sure my sunglasses were inside, I turned to head out, muttering to myself how ridiculous I was being since, even if the meeting had gone as I’d suspected, there was little chance that I’d be connected to it at all, only to stop abruptly when I looked up and saw Edward at the mouth of the room.

  Though his expression gave away nothing, his eyes said everything. They burned into me with vehement, laser focus, radiating hatred and fury and murder, and he didn’t have to say a single word. He knew. I didn’t know how it was possible, but he knew.

  And here I was, trapped. Two glass walls at my back, a wall of books and a wall of concrete before me, Edward blocking the only way in or out.

  Trapped.

  “Good. You’re here.” Despite the indignation in his gaze, his tone was cold.

  Scary cold. Cold that lashed and bit and bore down to the bone.

  I always found him irresistible like that, when he was menacing and mean. It sparked something in the lizard parts of my being, turned me into a baser version of myself. Made me feral and restless and aroused.

  At a more civilized level, it made me wary.

  I swallowed, taking a careful step around the cocktail ottoman, calculating my options. Could I make it past him if I ran? Did I need to try to escape?

  Did I want to?


  “I was on my way out.” This step was less cautious, as were the next two that followed.

  But then he took a step of his own, toward me. “It can wait.”

  “It...” I was on the verge of making up a lie, but where would I urgently need to be? The doctor was my only obligation these days, and Edward had been with me when I’d made my next appointment for a month out.

  Maybe I was making this into more than it was anyway. “Okay. What’s up?” I forced a casual inflection and urged the corners of my lips up, not quite a smile, but less not than before.

  He moved again, toward me, stopping at the desk to deposit a small brown bag I only just noticed. The kind they used at the drugstore down the block. The shape the contents made wasn’t quite discernible, but whatever it was, it stayed standing when he set it down.

  “I had an interesting meeting this morning that I wanted to discuss with you,” he said, and the bag was forgotten as I returned to panicking.

  I pushed the strap of my purse up my shoulder, clutching to it with the need to clutch to something, and somehow managed to sound collected. “That’s new. Since you don’t usually talk to me about...well, anything.”

  “I probably wouldn’t this time either, if you weren’t so inextricably involved.” He stalked toward me, circling round the ottoman like a lion on the hunt.

  “Oh? What happened?” I reversed direction, which wasn’t any better because now the couch was on the other side of me and the rest of the way around was narrow and more caged.

  In a flash, he was right in front of me, heat emanating from his body now as well as his mood, and I dropped my purse and thought again of making a run for it, willed my legs to make the move, but something deeper willed me to stay still, not quite in surrender. More like in curiosity. In enthrallment.

  “It’s less of what happened that I’m apt to share at the moment,” he said, backing me up toward his desk without laying a single hand on me. “And more of how it made me feel.”