The Revenge Game (The Player's Pact)

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The Revenge Game (The Player's Pact) Page 9

by Alice Gaines


  “I’m happy to hear it.”

  “Eventually, I went back to college—co-ed this time—and finished my degree,” she said. She’d even insisted on having a roommate, despite her father’s insistence she could have a private room. She’d made friends and dated, even though she was a few years older than the kids in her graduating class. And she’d met other men—boys, really, compared to Adam. No one had compared to Adam, but she’d moved on nonetheless.

  “Your father sheltered you too much,” he said. “He should have made sure you went to business school if he was going to leave his company to you.”

  “I did end up going to work for him. I had to do something with my life.” Those first months and years had been agony for someone as painfully shy as her, especially since she’d never held down a job before. So many of the older executives—virtually all men—had resented her. Once again, she’d been Maurice’s brat. Only Peter Baxter had taken her under his wing, even before her father had died. Maybe if she had gotten an MBA, things would have been different.

  No. She would have been Maurice’s brat, no matter what she’d done. Only Peter had helped her out. He still did, even though he deferred to her as the CEO of the company. If only the world were full of Peter Baxters.

  “Did your father mentor you then?” Adam asked.

  “Why is this always about my father?

  “Because he’s the one who put you in the position you’re in now.”

  It was an accusation. She couldn’t refute it, so she sipped her wine. “I imagine he thought he was going to live longer than he did.”

  “He knew he was going to die someday. He knew he’d be leaving you at the helm. He should have prepared you for your new role,” Adam said. “Did he even tell you before putting you in charge?”

  “Of course he did. It was in the bylaws of the corporation that he could name his successor.” And as her father had always told her, she was his only child. Since he’d never had a son, the company was hers when he died.

  “And he left you to deal with the ‘vote of no confidence’ clause.” The expression on Adam’s face said he did not approve.

  She set her glass down a bit too hard. “How did you know about that?”

  “It’s common knowledge in the business.”

  She could contemplate that for a minute. She could only be removed by a vote of no confidence from the stockholders. It wasn’t that well-known. Still, Adam could possibly know about it. Vivian definitely would. That wouldn’t necessarily mean they were working together. Adam could have found out some other way, though she didn’t know where. Maybe Peter could tell her.

  “So, your father gave a job to an inexperienced young woman but didn’t give her any direction,” Adam said. “Then he suddenly left her in charge of the entire company. He set you up to fail.”

  “Why would he want me to fail? That doesn’t make any sense.”

  Adam blew out a breath. “No, it doesn’t.”

  “Do you really want to know about me, or is this just an indictment of my father?” she asked.

  “I’ll stop.” He twirled his glass, lifting it toward the fading sunlight. “This is very good, by the way.”

  Every little compliment warmed her inside. She shouldn’t let that happen, really. They were still competitors, if not outright enemies. Never in her wildest dreams would she have thought she’d find herself sitting with him on the terrace of her new baby, Savvy. Never had she dared allow herself to hope she might enjoy his special brand of lovemaking again. Yet, here they sat, and they seemed to be making peace with each other—at least when they weren’t discussing her father. Maybe her outlandish plan to bring him here would succeed after all. Maybe, after everything, they could become friends.

  Friends with benefits? No. As soon as they left here, he’d go back to his wandering ways—a different beautiful woman every few months. She refused to be one of them. And she sure as hell couldn’t spend all her time worrying if he’d lost interest in her. She was better than that, stronger than that, now. Whatever happened between them here would have to end when they left.

  …

  Nicole left Adam in Savvy’s business center so he could get online and email or phone his company headquarters. She had to check in with her own staff.

  For that, she went down the hallway to her private office. It had a balcony and a view past the swimming pool toward the ocean. She opened the sliding door to get a breeze off the water, complete with the call of gulls in the distance. Then, she sat at the mahogany desk and opened her laptop. The spreadsheet for the past months’ earnings weren’t exactly cheerful. They showed the same downslide she’d been fighting since she’d taken over the company. Vacant rooms cost money—a lot of it, given the staff it took to maintain Westmore Hotels’ reputation for excellent service. Adam had been right. The old business model didn’t work anymore. She needed a hook to pull in a younger, but still affluent, crowd. Savvy would have that, as an all-inclusive resort featuring every water sport imaginable, as well as an exciting nightlife with top bands and a celebrity chef.

  The phone rang, and she answered it the same way her father had. “Westmore.”

  “Nicole,” Peter Baxter said. “I’ve found you.”

  “You have.” Bless Peter. Only a few years younger than her father, Peter had served the company for years. Instead of hating Nicole for taking over with so little experience, he’d done everything he could to help her succeed. In fact, he was the mentor her father should have been.

  “How are things there?” Peter asked.

  “Going well.” Peter was referring to the preparations for the opening. He had no way of knowing Westmore Hotels’ chief competitor was sitting down the hallway talking to his own company.

  “I have some good news and some bad news,” Peter said.

  “Okay, bad news first.”

  “No, the good first,” Peter said. “It’s less complicated.”

  “Whatever you say.”

  “I sent you the reservations information for the opening,” Peter said.

  Cradling the phone between her ear and her shoulder, she opened her email. Sure enough, Peter had attached a file.

  “Besides the numbers, have a look at the guest list,” he said.

  She did both. Savvy was almost totally sold out for their first week of operation. Amazing. Then, she clicked on a second file, which showed the names of her guests-to-be. Most meant nothing to her. But a few jumped out.

  “Prince Majid Al-Handar and company,” she said.

  “They’ve taken the entire top floor.”

  “Holy…” She stopped herself before she used a word someone as old-school as Peter wouldn’t appreciate. “Royalty.”

  “Young,” Peter added. “And with a great deal of oil money.”

  Exactly the sort of patron she’d hoped to attract. If Savvy made a good impression on him and he recommended it to his friends, her success was almost assured.

  “Read a little further,” Peter said.

  She did. The letters swam before her eyes until another name popped out at her. “Drake Milford. He’s about the hottest thing in Hollywood right now.”

  “Needless to say, we put him in a cabin on the cove so he can have privacy.”

  “This is awesome news.” If she could crawl through the wire and transport herself to New York, she’d kiss Peter.

  “I knew you’d be pleased,” Peter said. “But there is bad news as well.”

  “After this, I can take it,” she said.

  “We’ve discussed the rumor floating around about Westmore Hotels.”

  “Is there more?” One of the stockholders—a friend of her father’s—had told them he was approached about selling his stock. The potential buyer had suggested the company was about to fail and had offered a fraction of what the stock was worth. The stockholder had refused to identify the person who’d approached him, but it was, no doubt, all part of Adam’s plan.

  “I’m afraid the rumors h
ave made it into the business news,” Peter said.

  “How?”

  “I’m sending the link…right…now.”

  Sure enough, another email from Peter landed in her inbox. She opened it, clicked on the link, and found the “Winners and Losers” column of Investments Insider. It was kind of a gossip column for business people, and one with a reputation for spotting trends early.

  Halfway down, she found the name Westmore.

  It appears one of the oldest and most successful chain of resorts, Westmore Hotels, has hit hard times. The new CEO is young and inexperienced. Stock prices have been falling as quickly as vacancies have been rising. Investors might want to consider putting their money elsewhere.

  How utterly galling. First, a whisper campaign about the company’s wellbeing. Even worse, they blamed the perceived instability on her.

  But she had another issue with this “news” item. Who was its source? What if it was Adam himself?

  “Is there any way to know when the author got the information?” she asked.

  “Is that important?”

  Only if she’d been having hot and heavy sex with the man at the same time he was underhandedly sinking her. He could have planted the story weeks ago. Or he could have done it sitting on the porch of their cabin while she’d been in the shower—when she’d surprised him as he’d been ending a phone call. He could be doing it right this minute, in her own business center.

  “I’m just wondering if this is all they have, or if it’s going to be an ongoing problem,” she said.

  “I’ll see if we can find out,” Peter said. “Maybe a few martinis can loosen the tongue of the person who brought us the tip to begin with.”

  “Thanks.”

  “I’m afraid there’s a bit more bad news,” Peter said. “But I don’t want you to worry too much.”

  Those were the most useless words in the English language—don’t worry. Of course, her stomach tied itself into knots. “Give it to me straight.”

  “Enough of the stockholders have signed a petition to bring up a vote of no confidence at the annual meeting.”

  And there it was. The cloud that had been hanging over her ever since she’d taken over Westmore Hotels. With rumors floating around and the stock price dropping, as well as costs rising, along with the vacancy rates at the resorts, a “no confidence” vote had become inevitable. She’d prepared herself mentally for this to happen. That didn’t keep it from scaring the stuffing out of her. So now, she’d have to convince the stockholders to let Savvy save her position. She was sure it would—if only they gave her a chance.

  “This is no big surprise,” she said. “We’ll prepare when I return to New York.”

  “It isn’t, and we will.” Peter’s voice held more than a bit of pride in her reaction. She hadn’t fallen apart at the news.

  “There’s something I need to know,” she asked. “It’s not a big deal, really.” Actually, it could very well be. “About the ‘vote of no confidence’ clause. Is that public knowledge?”

  “Not the general public, no.” Peter didn’t say anything for a moment.

  “How about in our industry? Could our competitors know?”

  “I don’t see why not. All our stockholders are aware of it.”

  So, Adam had, most likely, been telling the truth about that. It wasn’t much, but it was something. How sad that she had to question every little thing he said or did.

  “Don’t worry too much,” Peter said. “Your new resort will convince them, and the world, that you’re too good to lose.”

  “Thanks.”

  “So, all is well?” Peter asked.

  Of course, he was only speaking about the arrangements for the opening. She hadn’t mentioned she’d halted progress for a few days so she could bring Adam here. It might end up being a brilliant move on her part, or he could only be here for the sex. Maybe she’d never find out which.

  “Our chef has been working on menus from where he is,” she said. “He’ll arrive soon. There’s more staff to hire. Everything’s on track.”

  “Glad to hear it. Keep up the good work.”

  “You, too.” They ended the call, and Nicole went back to scanning the guest list. No more names jumped out at her, but she’d seen the important ones. Everything pointed toward success for Savvy and her—if she could win the vote on the “no confidence” clause. To do that, she’d needed to squelch the rumors that threatened her company. But first, she had to figure out if she was having sex with their source.

  …

  Adam had meant to check his office email but got sidetracked by the information about Savvy that appeared when he turned on the computer in the resort’s business center. Lots of pictures of attractive, young people in various activities. Sailing, snorkeling, and riding Jet Skis. And the nightlife depicted on the website… It was impressive. The lineup of musical acts for the first few months would be more than enough to bring in guests. Nicole had booked some really big names, ones that would cost a fortune. But the guests would pay for it all if she had a very low vacancy rate. Lower than any comparable resort he could think of. She was taking a big risk, but then, she’d acknowledged as much.

  He had to admire her. Her actions were brash and a little overconfident, much like he’d been when he’d opened Finesse and turned it into the latest hotspot. He’d made the venture worth the money and trouble. Maybe she’d do the same with Savvy.

  Finally, he tore himself away from all the glamour and luxury and opened his email. He found the usual weekly reports and scanned each of them briefly. Accounts payable and receivable, room occupancy rates, safety incidents, and any cases of premises liability or other potential lawsuits. That last one was zero, which saved him a lot in insurance rates and the hassles of dealing with lawyers. All the others were within normal limits.

  He didn’t have to read all that stuff himself. He had staff to summarize it for him, but this way, he had a more hands-on feel for his own business. He’d built it from the ground up. It was his baby. And, he suddenly realized, Nicole felt the same way about this resort.

  There was one last email, from Mark, his COO, which simply said “Call me about our project.” The message was cryptic for a good reason. “Our project” involved taking over Westmore Hotels. Only Mark and his CFO knew of Vivian’s role in Morrow Properties. They had to, if they were to function in their jobs. For the same reason, they knew about his plans for Westmore.

  He picked up his phone and dialed Mark’s direct number. Mark answered within seconds. “Mark Brody here.”

  “What’s up there?”

  “Hi, Adam. Thanks for getting back to me.”

  “I just got your email.”

  “Have you seen Investments Insider today?” Mark asked.

  He hadn’t. He’d been swimming and having sex with Nicole. “Something interesting?”

  “Hang on. I’ll send you the link.” Mark tapped on his keyboard for a few seconds, and after a short delay, another email from Mark showed up in his box. A link took Adam to the gossip column where anonymous tips appeared. Toward the middle was an item about Westmore Hotels—a not-very-flattering one, especially to the “young and inexperienced” CEO.

  Adam whistled between his teeth. “You didn’t plant this, did you?”

  “Nooo,” Mark said. “It would have been too suspicious coming from Westmore’s chief competitor.”

  “Then who?”

  “It could have been a lot of people. Lots of Westmore’s stockholders are uncertain about the company.”

  “True.” Some of the old-timers didn’t like the new direction Nicole was taking the company in. Stupid but understandable. And with the added effects of Vivian’s whispering into influential ears, a lot of people were getting nervous.

  “Or this might be more of Vivian’s work,” Mark said.

  It did have her fingerprints all over it. She specialized in innuendo. The mention in the gossip column was gold, but she had to be careful not to ove
rplay her hand.

  “I think she might become a problem,” Mark said.

  “How so?”

  “She’s been calling me, demanding to know where you are,” Mark answered.

  Damn her possessiveness of him. “She hasn’t shown up at the office, has she?”

  “She knows better than to do that.”

  “She had better keep knowing it.” From the first, he and Vivian had agreed to keep their partnership secret from anyone who didn’t need to know. She’d been happy enough with all the money it would make her and even more thrilled with the opportunity to take Maurice Westmore down. Then she’d developed an unhealthy attachment toward him. He’d discouraged her every chance he got, but the message never seemed to make it through.

  “Anything else?” Adam asked.

  “Not that I can’t handle.”

  “Thanks. I won’t be here long.”

  Right after he’d hung up the landline, the ringtone on his cell phone sounded. The display said it was Ryan. Crap. He hadn’t contacted his friends—hadn’t said a word to them—since the wedding reception. He didn’t check in with them every day, but they had to be curious. Not talking to them would speak louder than anything he could say, so he answered the call.

  “You are alive,” Ryan said. “I was beginning to wonder.”

  “It’s only been a couple of days.”

  “A lot can happen in a short time when you go off to seduce a former lover.”

  “Yeah.” What else could he say? He wasn’t going to share the details of what he and Nicole had done. That was between the two of them.

  “You dropped off the face of the earth,” Ryan said. “Mission accomplished?”

  “You could say that.”

  Ryan chuckled. “It must be really good if you’re not talking about it.”

  “I don’t talk about the women I’m…”

  “Involved with?” Ryan said. “You having a problem with the words?”

  “Involved with,” he said. He was becoming more and more intimate with Nicole, several times a day. Old feelings were surfacing. Each sexual encounter took him back to ten years ago, when he was a kid with a young man’s libido and she was the one he couldn’t live without. Even now, he simply couldn’t get enough of her.

 

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