by Leigh Duncan
“How could I forget?” Steve asked. “We’re still digging out from that one. Once gas hit three-fifty a gallon, people started car pools. They bought bicycles or turned to public transportation. Demand fell, and we lost some of our most productive franchises.”
“Tell me about it. My aunt’s was one of them. Favor Oil gave her what looked like a better offer at the time. Now, though, Favor is applying pressure, and she’s about to lose everything. I was hoping you’d look into getting her Shell Oil contract renewed.” The car tires set up a rhythmic beat as the driver headed across the bridge spanning the bay to Naples.
“We’re talking about your aunt Charity, Charity Grambling, on Mimosa Key, right?” Steve didn’t wait for an answer. From the other end of the line came the sound of fingers typing on a keyboard. A thirty-second eternity later, his friend said the words Josh had been hoping to hear. “That station was one of our biggest performers. We were sorry to lose it.”
Josh smiled tightly at the first piece of good news he’d heard since Charlie called it quits between them. “So you think you could bring her back on board?”
“She’d have to pay the franchise fees.” Even among friends, business was business.
“Send the bill to me. I’ll take care of it.” After Steve’s awestruck whistle filled his ear, he added, “She’s my aunt. What can I say?” He’d do anything for the people he loved.
“In that case, consider her back in the Shell Oil fold.”
The news was better than he’d expected and certainly worth celebrating, but his concerns about Charlie outweighed everything else—even the Super Min’s fate. In all likelihood, the woman he’d loved and lost would lose her job over the Favor Oil account. Since he was at least partly responsible, he had an obligation to square things for her, whether she ever forgave him or not. He tightened his hold on the phone. “There’s one more thing. I’m going to send you Charlotte Oak’s résumé. She’s a, ah, a good friend who’s gone out on a very thin limb to help my aunt.”
“And you can’t hire her yourself?” An incredulous note crept into Steve’s voice. He, like practically everyone else in America, had seen the Forbes article. “Surely you have an opening for her somewhere.”
“She, um…” The words lodged in Josh’s throat, and he cleared it. “We’re not exactly speaking at the moment.”
“Oh.” Such a simple word but one that was freighted with understanding. “I guess you want this pretty bad, huh?” Asking a favor for a close relative was one thing, but anything more was a line Josh had never crossed.
“Yeah,” he admitted, not proud of the role he’d played in ruining Charlie’s career.
“Bad enough to part with, say, a certain Romanée-Conti?” Into the silence that followed, Steve added, “I’ll pay the going rate for it, of course.”
Josh winced. “You drive a hard bargain.” But not an unexpected one. Steve had been angling to get his hands on that particular bottle of pinot noir ever since Josh outbid him when it came up at auction. “Yeah, the Romanée-Conti is yours.”
“Okay, then. Tell her she’s got the job.”
“That’s not what I’m asking, and you know it,” Josh corrected. “She’ll want to be taken on her own merit. She’d have my hide otherwise.” If she ever spoke to him again, that was.
“Just so you know, I’d hire anyone you recommended, sight unseen. The DRC is just icing on the cake,” Steve said, referring to the tiny corner of France known for its outstanding wines. “But we’ll do it your way. I’ll bring her in, interview her, take her through all the hoops. As a matter of fact, I’ve been looking for a new assistant here in the Houston office.”
Josh’s heart, which had been rolling around in his stomach, sank even lower. Houston was so very far away from his home base, but there was nothing for it. He owed Charlie this opportunity. “I’ll have the wine crated and delivered by the end of the week,” he said, sealing the deal while he mentally penciled in a trip to his vault to oversee the transfer. Little did Steve know, he’d do more than part with a single bottle, no matter how much it cost, if it meant making amends with the woman he loved.
For that, he’d empty his entire wine cellar.
As they sped through an area where the skeletal remains of an old orange grove stretched for miles, Josh shook his head at the irony of his situation. Over the years, he’d come close to walking down the aisle a couple of times, but he’d never once considered sharing a glass of Romanée-Conti with his bride…until he met Charlie. Now that he’d finally found a woman worthy of cracking open one of the world’s most expensive wines, he’d lost them both.
Unable to delay the inevitable heartache any longer, he leaned his head against the leather seat. Through all the sleepless hours last night, he’d held the pain at bay by convincing himself he’d win Charlie back. But when she hadn’t been there waiting for him at the Rockrose this morning, he’d known. Known deep in his soul that he’d lost her forever. Pain rippled through his chest. His eyes closed. Tears dampened his cheeks.
By the time the driver pulled to the curb in downtown Orlando two hours later, he’d regained enough control to make it through the presentation, though he suspected a breakdown was in his near future. Inside a building filled with gilt and glass, he forced himself to march across W&B’s marble floor. He approached an imposing reception desk, his footsteps keeping time with the thudding regularity of his broken heart. He was so caught up in a sense of loss, he nearly missed the way a pleasant enough admin turned on the charm the moment she heard his name. Almost, but not quite. Straightening, he allowed himself one brief moment of regret for the anonymity he’d left behind on Mimosa Key before his instincts for self-preservation kicked in.
“I’m sure I can find the conference room if you’ll just point me in the right direction,” he said, preferring his own self-pitying company to that of yet another predatory shark.
“Oh, I couldn’t let you go alone, Joshua. You don’t mind if I call you Joshua, do you? You can call me Belinda.” A pair of patently false eyelashes batted at him. Grasping fingers clutched his upper arm as Belinda steered him toward a bank of elevators. “If there’s anything I can do for you while you’re here”—the woman who’d plastered herself to his side raised a suggestive eyebrow—“anything at all, just ask for me.”
Apparently oblivious to the bevy of briefcase-toting workers already on their car, Belinda chattered nonstop the whole ride while Josh concentrated on edging away whenever she crowded too close. By the time they reached the top floor, he’d had enough of her shenanigans and stepped smartly from the elevator. Turning, he extricated himself from Belinda’s clinging fingers.
“I can take it from here,” he said, body-blocking her path. He shuddered the instant the doors closed in her face and fanned the air where Belinda’s cloying perfume lingered. With the meeting due to start in a few minutes, he squared his shoulders. Striding into the partners’ conference room, he swept the long, polished wood surface with a single glance. Wait staff bustled about placing elegant blue bottles and tall tumblers before empty chairs while his hope that Charlie might be waiting for him ebbed.
He started when a soft cough drew his attention to the far corner. Turning slowly, he felt his heart lurch. “Charlie,” he breathed as relief rushed over him. “I’m so glad to see you. I was afraid you wouldn’t be here.”
“Of course, I’m here. I wouldn’t let what happened between us stand in the way of doing the right thing.” Rising, she skimmed a hand over a short, black skirt that hugged her curves. “I have to at least try to save the Super Min and all the other mini-marts.”
She’d come, but not for him. The realization created a yawning emptiness in his gut. Still, he had to apologize. He owed her that much.
“Charlie, I’m sorry for the way we left things. I never meant to hurt you.” He wanted to reach out, to take her into his arms. When there was no softening in her posture, when she remained as stiff and unyielding as a vineyard trellis, his f
ingers curled into themselves.
Cool and professional, she answered, “There’s no need to apologize. Now that I’ve had some time to think about things, I understand. I’ve always prided myself on my ability to judge a person’s character. It’s one of the things that makes me so good at my job. You lied about who you were, but you couldn’t disguise your personality, your heart. That’s the man I fell in love with.”
“So there’s a chance for us?” Hope sent his pulse jackhammering.
Her smile dimmed. “No.”
“But—” The jackhammer slipped, biting off a piece of his heart as it fell to the ground. At the same moment, the conference door sprang open, cutting short the speech he’d practiced a thousand times during a sleepless night. Belinda, it seemed, wasn’t about to take no for an answer. She leaned into the doorway.
“Joshua,” she cooed in a breathy voice. “I brought you some coffee. Black, two sugars. Just the way you like it.”
How the hell does she know how I drink my coffee?
“No, thanks,” he said curtly. He didn’t bother to turn around. Refusing to lose sight of Charlie, he let a hint of aggravation creep into his voice. “I’m fine. If you don’t mind leaving us alone…”
When, despite his request, Belinda’s heels tapped across the floor, he rolled his eyes.
Behind him, a voice purred, “You must be hungry after your trip. I brought fruit and bagels. We can get to know each other before the meeting.”
It was too much, and Josh’s temper snapped. “The only thing I want right now is privacy!”
His words cracked through the room like a rawhide whip. Belinda gave a soft mew of disappointment before the door snicked shut while Josh once more cursed the day he’d agreed to the article in Forbes. He’d been fighting off women who saw him as their golden ticket ever since the magazine hit the newsstands.
Eyeing a wall-mounted clock, he took a breath and forced the tension of the last thirty seconds off his shoulders. Time was running out.
“There’s something you need to know,” he began. His focus on Charlie, he rushed to fill her in on the latest. “On the way here, I called a friend of mine at Shell Oil. He’s agreed to reinstate Charity’s franchise with their company.”
Charlie’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Why are you telling me this? Why now?”
“Because it’s not too late to back out. You said W&B rewards independent thinkers, but we both know you’re taking a huge gamble by moving ahead with this presentation.” He gestured toward several empty chairs at the back of the room. “I want you to know, you don’t have to do it. None of the other mini-mart owners showed up. It’s just you and me, and I’ve taken care of Charity’s problems.”
He waited while she weighed the pros and cons.
“No,” she said at last. “It’s the right thing to do. W&B took on the Favor Oil account to make money, but at some point, even companies like ours need to stop and consider what’s best for the community.”
He couldn’t have been prouder of her in that moment and started to tell her so, but their time had run out. One by one, the partners filed into the room. Each stopped to shake hands with him, and while Charlie retreated to the sidelines, he turned down the usual invitations to play golf, catch a game, meet for lunch to discuss a new, exciting business venture. Eventually, the focus turned to the business at hand and the next half hour passed in a blur. Josh told himself later he should have paid better attention to Charlie’s presentation. Should have weighed her arguments on the basis of their own merits. But, honestly, he was so taken in by her poise, by her command of the room that he simply sat back and let himself fall even more deeply in love with her. He wanted to cheer when she gave succinct answers to questions that were undoubtedly designed to trip her up. Unfortunately, the partners showed less enthusiasm for her talk and coolly asked her to wait nearby the minute she finished speaking.
Sensing she’d disappear the first chance she got, he stood and crossed to her side. So far, his attempts at making things right between them had failed miserably. The way he saw it, the delay gave him one more chance to patch things up between them. Without giving her a chance to object, he trailed her down the hall to a small room. Once there, he prepared to plead his case, but Charlie turned to him, confusion filling her green eyes.
“We need to talk…about Belinda,” she said, her voice wavering.
“There’s only one woman I want to talk about, and she’s right in front of me,” Josh breathed, staring at the woman who meant the world to him.
* * *
Charlie let her gaze bounce from the man she was trying very hard not to love to the door and back again. “Is it always like that?” she asked him. “Women fawning all over themselves to get to you?”
“It happens far too often.” Josh gave his lips a wry twist. “Ever since Forbes put my face on their cover, I’ve been hounded day in and day out. Once, I caught a strange woman crawling through my window in the middle of the night. I bought a condo that offered tight security after that. It’s not just women. You heard the partners. I can’t walk into a room without listening to someone pitch their new invention or business idea.” He sighed. “It’s tiring.”
“I see.” She tapped one finger against her chin while the dominoes fell into place. “I probably never would’ve understood if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes.” She wrapped a strand of hair around one finger. “We have important clients in here, day in and day out. Movie stars. Corporate raiders. Senators and congressmen. I’ve never seen Belinda act like that before. That’s why you didn’t tell me who you really were? You thought I’d treat you differently.”
“Mostly.” Josh stared out a window overlooking a tree-lined lake. “Mimosa Key is one of the few places on earth where I can be myself. To the people born and raised on the island, it doesn’t matter if I have five hundred dollars in the bank or five million. I’m still the boy who grew up working in his aunt Charity’s mini-mart.”
She smiled. “I wish I’d known that boy.”
He turned to her then, and her heart stuttered at the slow smile that spread across his perfect lips. “Oh, but you do know him. That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you. Look beyond the bespoke suit and the custom-fitted shoes”—he brushed a hand down one pant leg—“and you’ll see. It shouldn’t matter whether I’m ringing up a couple of drinks and hot dogs or placing an order for a dozen crates of merlot. I’m the same guy.”
“But you’re a…” Her brow puckered. “A multimillionaire?”
“It’d be easy to let it go at that, but I don’t want there to be any secrets between us. Not anymore.” He took a breath. “My net worth is more in the billion-dollar range.”
She needed a moment to let the enormity of the number soak in and took it. When she looked up again, Josh had closed the gap between them. “I want us to have another chance. Can you forgive me?”
“I can now.” She loved the man behind the ridiculously expensive suit and tie. She’d loved him from the moment she walked into the Super Min. She swallowed past the lump in her throat.
“So we’re good, you and me?”
“More than good. I’d say we’re perfect,” she whispered. Love and desire swirled through her chest. She looked up, and her heart skipped a beat when she saw the same mix reflected in Josh’s eyes.
“What say we blow this taco stand?” he murmured.
It’d be easy, so easy, to slip into Josh’s arms and let him whisk her away, but she couldn’t leave yet. “I want to hear the partners’ decision first,” she said, her voice firm. Realizing she’d just told one of the wealthiest men in the world to wait a minute, she froze.
But Josh only laughed. A tender smile crept across lips she wanted to kiss so badly it made her throat ache.
“Please don’t ever change, Charlie,” he said taking her hand. “The secrets we kept nearly cost us everything. I’ll never do that again. For this to work between us, we need to see each other as equals. If you want to
stay—much as I can’t wait to be alone with you—we’ll stay.”
As it turned out, the partners didn’t keep them waiting long. She and Josh had barely made themselves comfortable when David rapped on the door.
“Sorry for the interruption,” he said, his eyes on Josh, “but if I could borrow Charlie for a moment.” His gaze shifted to her as he added, “Alone.”
This was it. The fate of the mini-marts had been decided. Her future with W&B had reached a turning point.
“I’ll be right here.” As if he knew how much she needed it, Josh gave her hand a supportive squeeze.
Stepping into the hallway, she was surprised to realize she wasn’t the least bit nervous. Josh’s love gave her the strength she needed to overcome her fears, even her fear of losing her job. She took a steady breath.
“I’m sorry,” David began once she joined him in the hall. “We’ve decided it’s in our best interest to move forward with the Favor deal as is.”
“I expected as much.” Disappointed that the partners had chosen their own interests over that of the mini-mart owners, she nodded. On some level, she’d known the decision hadn’t gone her way. If it had, David would have delivered it in front of Josh, if only to curry favor with one of the richest men in America.
David cleared his throat, a sure sign he had more bad news to share. “In addition, I’m afraid your actions have raised some serious questions about your loyalty to this company. In order for you to continue working here, we’re going to need your assurance that you’ll never put your own interests, or the interests of others”—David gave the door behind her a pointed look—“ahead of your commitment to W&B.”
She let a slow breath seep across her lips. David’s ultimatum sounded too much like the choice Favor Oil had presented to Charity Grambling. Could she promise blind allegiance to a company that had already chosen their bottom line over doing the right thing? For one split second, she waivered before she reminded herself that she didn’t have to get a job hoeing peanuts just yet. Her savings would tide her over until she found a new position. Preferably with a company that had a heart.
