by Diana Palmer
"Not today," Meredith said without smiling. "In a day or two."
"Aw, gee," he muttered. "Okay."
She smiled at his annoyance. He didn't understand that she couldn't risk having him seen just yet. Cy didn't know about him. She had to find a way to get him out of Billings before Myrna spilled the beans. But right now, she had priorities.
She glanced at her watch, grimacing. Don would be here in less than an hour. She had things to do.
She went upstairs and laid out her clothes meticulously. She couldn't afford to be anything less than elegant tonight, self-possessed and businesslike. But her mouth was dry and her legs felt like rubber.
The atmosphere became a little strained when Don arrived, especially when Tiny, Mr. Smith's big green iguana, came padding into the living room to see who the newcomer was.
"Why don't you make a hatband out of that thing?" Don muttered.
Mr. Smith picked up Tiny and let her sit on his shoulder, glaring at Don as he went upstairs with Blake to help him dress.
"Not a wise diplomatic move," Meredith mused, watching Don.
"I hate that thing," he replied tautly, glancing at his Rolex watch. "Shouldn't you be dressing?"
"I suppose so," she said reluctantly. "Funny, you get something you've always wanted, always waited for. And when the moment comes, it tastes like ashes."
Don glanced at her curiously. "It isn't as if you had a choice. Harden made it for you when he refused you the leases. I read your report," he added a little uncomfortably. "And I have to agree that it would be unproductive financially to pursue molybdenum anywhere but in Montana, where we have easy access to mineral processing."
She was taken aback. "I'm surprised."
He shrugged. "I know good business when I see it. You may have had less than laudable motives to start out, but you've got good business sense about acquisitions. Harden Properties would make a nice addition to our portfolio of companies."
"Yes, it would," she said, but she didn't mean it. She didn't really want Cy's company. Did Don? Her eyes narrowed. She'd have to keep an eye on him, a really close one. Maybe she owed Cy that, out of old memories if nothing else.
She showered and changed into a brand-new Guy Laroche tailored silk suit in a light blue, with a delicately embroidered silk blouse to match it. She wore leather pumps and put her hair in an elegant high coiffure, sweeping the blond mass back to her nape and securing it with combs. She looked in the mirror, approving the image.
Blake was wearing a suit, too, and he glared at her when she joined him downstairs, along with Mr. Smith in his chauffeur's uniform and a sedately suited Don Tennison.
"Why do I have to wear a suit, Mommy?" he muttered. "And I don't want to go out, I want to watch television."
"Sorry, my darling, but I need Mr. Smith and you can't stay here alone." She bent and kissed him warmly. "I'll make sure we have plenty of time together later. Okay?"
He grimaced. "Okay, I guess."
Don nodded as he studied her. "You'll do," he said. "Very much the Tennison executive."
She smiled. "I'm glad you approve." She glanced at her diamond-studded gold Rolex. "Well, it's almost seven," she said with butterflies flapping in her stomach. "Shall we go?"
"We might as well. You didn't want to be in on the beginning of the meeting, I gather?"
"No need," she replied. "As you said, they'll buzz our cellular phone when it's time for the vote. We'll present our proxies and make our bid and see what happens."
"Fair enough."
The Harden Properties building was ablaze with lights. Cy Harden and Myrna were already seated in the boardroom, recovering from a delicious buffet arranged by the caterer. It was good business, Cy's father had said, to feed men before you asked them to die for you on the corporate battlefield. So the policy had continued.
Cy was thinking about Meredith. Staying away from her had only made his hunger for her worse. He knew now that there was no question of substitutes. He wasn't going to let go of her. He was gearing up for action, and when he had this absurd takeover off his mind, he was going to do nothing but think up ways to get Meredith back.
He wanted to try again, to start over. But before he could go to Meredith's house and tell her that, urgent business had intervened, necessitating an out-of-town trip. When he got back, it was to learn that he was under the threat of a hostile takeover from Tennison International and that proxies had been obtained steadily, along with outstanding stock. The company was in a fragile position, and trying to block the takeover was absorbing all his spare time.
"Have you been able to reach Don Tennison?" he asked one of his directors.
"He'll be here," came the quiet reply. "Is he behind this takeover, do you think?"
"I don't know," Cy said instantly. He glanced at the man. "Do you have any idea who's after us?" he asked.
"Indeed I do. I think it's Henry Tennison's widow," the director said wryly. "She's one sharp lady. Runs the entire domestic branch of the corporation, and makes money hand over fist. They say Henry groomed her himself, had her tutored for years. She's as sharp as they come, and she's adamant about obtaining those mineral leases. We're standing in the way of her expansion plans, which could work to her disadvantage with her board of directors. They want results."
"I'm adamant about not giving them to her," he replied. "I'll be damned if I'm going to let some flighty rich widow come out here and tell me what to do with my own company."
"She's not flighty," the man murmured. "If she was, Don Tennison would be running the whole show. They say he stands in her shadow."
"Not a comfortable place to be," Cy mused.
The man nodded, turning to greet the rest of the board members as they filed in and took their places.
The big black limousine parked in front of the Harden Properties building waited until the cellular phone buzzed. Then Meredith kissed Blake's cheek and climbed out of the car.
She was wearing a cashmere coat, a heather-and-gray shade that enhanced her exquisite complexion. She walked just ahead of Don into the building toward the boardroom with his hand at her elbow.
"Nervous?" he asked as they paused at the closed door.
She looked up at him. "Not now," she replied. "Ironic, isn't it? I should be shaking, but it's suddenly very flat. I almost feel sorry for him."
He nodded. He opened the door and they walked in.
She could see Cy and his mother sitting at the head and right of the long board table, through a room filled with people and smoke. Cy noticed Meredith and his brows drew together, like his mother's.
The director who was speaking nodded toward Don. "There's a new order of business tonight," he said, directing his comments to Cy. "We've been approached by Tennison International with a takeover bid. I'll turn the floor over to Don Tennison, if there are no objections, and we'll hear his offer."
"No objections at all," Cy said with faint humor, his eyes going to Don with a conspiratorial gleam and then to Meredith with clear puzzlement. "But I'd like to know why we need a waitress tonight," he added, unreasonably irritated to find her in the company of Don Tennison. She was his!
Meredith was the only one, besides Myrna and Don, who got the joke. She didn't reply. She simply smiled at Cy, her mind whirling with his insults, his easy seduction, his treachery. The evening suddenly bubbled with evil possibilities, and she found herself looking forward to her role in it. Her anger at Myrna took second place to dishing out a little unpleasantness for Cy. God knew he deserved it. He'd hurt her enough in the past.
Cy clasped his big hands on the table in front of him when Meredith didn't reply, his gaze going to his directors. "It'll take more than a bid to unseat me, as you're damned well about to find out."
"Now, Cy, it isn't your leadership we're questioning," the director named Bill stammered, red-faced. "It's just that many of us feel you're being deliberately obstructive about these mineral leases."
"I'm entitled to be obstructive," Cy raged. "Or
has it slipped your notice that Henry Tennison did everything in his power to put us out of business up until his death?"
Meredith hadn't known that. She glanced at Don, but he wouldn't meet her eyes.
"That has nothing to do with today's business," Bill continued, refusing to back down. "At least let the rest of us hear what Don has to say."
Cy leaned back in his chair, aware of his mother's curiosity as she stared at Meredith. He stared at her, too.
"I think I mentioned that this meeting is for stockholders only," he said, bitterly angry to find Meredith in the company of a Tennison, and dressed like that, in luxurious garments that she certainly couldn't afford on what he paid her to waitress at his restaurant. Was she involved with Don? Was he her friend in Chicago instead of Smith? It was puzzling, and he knew damned well Meredith didn't own any stock in Harden Properties. So why was she here? "You're a little out of your element, aren't you, Meredith?" he asked coolly.
"Am I?" she murmured sweetly and with a smile.
"Is she with you?" Cy asked Don.
"It's rather the other way around, I'm afraid," Don said quietly. And he sat down, leaving Meredith to put her attaché case on the table and address the board.
"Sorry to spring this on you, gentlemen," she said in a clear, cold, businesslike tone, "but your president and CEO" she glanced at a puzzled Cy "has my back to the wall. We have to diversify. I need those mineral leases, and you've left me no alternative but to deal under the table to get them."
Cy sat up straighter, aware of his mother's shock and wide-eyed tension beside him. "What do you mean, we?" Cy asked, his very tone a threat.
"Haven't I introduced myself?" she asked pleasantly. "I'm sorry." She smiled, her cool gaze encompassing not only Cy, but his mother as well. "I'm Kip Tennison," she said, waiting for the impact to register, "Henry Tennison's widow. I'm vice president and chief executive officer of Tennison International's domestic operation."
The look on Cy's face was worth it all, she thought briefly. Worth six years of grief and anguish, worth all the pain. Myrna looked white in the face and near to fainting. But Meredith couldn't afford to take pleasure in the shock she'd handed out. She had business to conduct.
So she conducted it, her calm voice detailing the bid, outlining exactly what changes would be made, naming a price and sticking to it despite the outcry from the directors.
"You won't take over my company," Cy said coldly.
She lifted an eyebrow. "Yes, I will," she returned, her voice equally cold. "I have the necessary proxies. I can outvote you."
"You don't have my great-uncle's"
She shot it across the table to him with chilling efficiency, watching his face stiffen.
"But, he wouldn't!" Myrna gasped.
"Your father's brother doesn't have a very high opinion of either of you, Mrs. Harden," Meredith said easily. "I'm afraid he would, and has. That ten percent of your stock puts me over the edge. It gives me the votes I need to gain control of the company, unless your attorneys can pull a rabbit out of the hat for you." She picked up her materials and closed them up in her attaché case with apparent unconcern. "I want those mineral leases," she said, her hard gray eyes staring straight into Cy's with determination and pure power. "I'll have them, even if I have to take over your company to get them. You can let me know your decision. I'd appreciate it by the first of next week. I have a government contract to fill, and if necessary, I'll have the appropriate agency intercede as well. I imagine you already know that the government doesn't like to be kept waiting for military hardware, especially right now."
She stood up and motioned to Don. "Thank you for your time, gentlemen," she said smoothly. "I'll be in touch. Good evening."
She left the room with Don close behind, smiling a little secretively as she heard the outburst that exploded behind them when the doors closed.
Cy didn't move. He barely breathed. Lightning flashed in his mind as he put all the things that had puzzled him into sequence and realized that Meredith had played him for a fool. Henry Tennison's widow, working for wages in a restaurant. Someday he might even be able to laugh about that irony.
Myrna touched his hand and he jumped, tension rippling through him.
"She's why Henry Tennison tried to destroy us," Myrna said through numb lips. "It was because of Meredith!"
Gossip filtered through his consciousness. Henry Tennison's devotion to his young wife, his obsession to protect her. Meredith had been Tennison's wife, married to him. He was the man she'd said had loved her
"God," he breathed, choking on the pain. He'd chased her away, and she'd somehow met and married one of the wealthiest men in the world. Now she was the worst enemy he had on earth, and if he wasn't careful, she was going to destroy him.
"I'm sorry," Myrna said tearfully. She gnawed her lower lip. "It's my fault. All my fault"
He barely heard his mother and didn't understand what she was saying anyway. He was hurting as he'd never dreamed he could. He'd told Meredith that she could never fit into his lifestyle, that she didn't have the sophistication. And she could buy and sell him. How she must have laughed.
She was as far out of his reach now as he'd been out of hers six years before. She was Henry Tennison's widow. She had an empire of her own and an incredible fortune to go with it. The means for a vicious revenge was in her hands, and she'd used it tonight. He closed his eyes. He'd thought she might still love him, despite everything. But she'd just shown him what she felt. She'd played him like a big fish, and now she was reeling him in. None of it had been real. Her only thought had been revenge, probably even when she was giving herself to him. She'd known that it would make the pain so much worse, to remember that and know that the only reason she'd done it was to keep him so interested in her that he hadn't realized the game she was playing. He'd been falling in love all over again, while Meredith had merely been hedging her bets for a hostile takeover. He got up and went to the window, looking out blindly. Somehow the threat of losing his company was nothing compared to the pain of Meredith's betrayal. It came to him without warning that this was how she must have felt six years ago
It was thirty minutes later when Mr. Smith finally arrived for an impatient Meredith and Don, having had, of all things, a flat. That meant they were still waiting when Cy and Myrna Harden came out of the boardroom themselves and out into the lobby. It took all of Meredith's nerve not to back away from Cy when he came toward her with eyes as cold as death. She'd played her hand, now she had to back it up. She couldn't afford to show weakness.
"My God, was it all part of the plan?" he demanded of her, his dark eyes blazing.
She knew what he meant. She smiled, lifting an eyebrow. "Weren't you the one who used to say that in business, nothing is sacred?"
"Answer me, you female barracuda!" he said under his breath.
She looked past him to a shattered Myrna Harden with hardly any interest except a quiet, dull pity. She felt vaguely ashamed of herself.
"Yes," she said without emotion, lying to save her pride. "It was all part of the plan."
The contempt in his face was almost too much to bear, but she couldn't let him see how much she still cared. It was too late, and she had responsibilities she couldn't shirk. Worse, she had a child to protect. Letting Cy too close now could cost her Blake. Her eyes widened as she realized with horror that Mr. Smith, unaware of the undercurrents, was bringing Blake to the door!
She froze as the door opened and Blake came running in ahead of Mr. Smith.
"Mommy, we had a flat tire!" Blake told the world, holding out his arms to be picked up.
Meredith stooped to lift him into her arms, holding him far too tight, her eyes frightened as she held him. "My little man, were you worried about being late?" she asked, trying not to let the fear show. She knew without looking that Cy and Myrna were gaping at the child.
"Yes, and Mr. Smith said some very bad words. You must speak with him," he said in his adult tones.
&nbs
p; Meredith would have laughed at that ordinarily, but this really wasn't any time for humor.
Cy was staring at her with venomous anger, as he realized that not only had she gone from him to another man, she'd had a child by that man. She was holding Henry Tennison's son, and he hated her for it.
Even more did he hate the burly man standing close beside her, looking overtly protective and threatening. "You're Smith, of course," Cy said coldly, eyeing the older man with fury as he realized who he had to beMeredith's bodyguard.
"You're Harden, of course," came the gravelly reply.
Sensing trouble, Meredith got between them, but in her disturbed condition she hadn't counted on the effect Blake's presence was going to have on Myrna Harden. Cy might not have noticed the resemblance, but his mother certainly did, and she knew that Meredith had been pregnant when she left BillingsCy did not. Myrna stared at the child with eyes gone huge in a face like rice paper. And without warning, she slumped to the floor in a dead faint.
Cy ran to her, his concern obvious. Meredith felt guilty, because it was her fault. She'd sprung more than enough surprises on Myrna tonight, even if she hadn't really meant to produce Blake. That had been an accident. But for the flat tire, Myrna would never have seen the boy at all. She didn't dare think about the consequences now, or she'd go mad!
She gave Blake to Mr. Smith and knelt beside Cy, her cool fingers going to the pulse in the older woman's neck. The pulse was steady and regular, if a little weak.
"Shock," Cy said curtly, glaring at Meredith. "God knows she's had enough for one night. Cold as ice, aren't you, honey?"
She didn't react. Her eyes met his levelly. "Business isn't for the fainthearted," she replied. "Henry taught me how to play the game. I was a good student."
"You'll need to be," was all he said, but the way he looked at her made her nervous.
He got up to call an ambulance, leaving Meredith to look after Myrna. The older woman opened her eyes briefly, while the directors, all male, stood around trying not to look stupid. They had no idea what to do, leaving Meredith to it.
