Some of them had given him pause. A few had made him wonder if he had done the right thing.
But of course he had. After all, he did not buy successful businesses. Their misfortune was brought on by the same reasons that were responsible for the demise of Demion Mills—a greedy heir who had no business expertise and workers who were paid more than the company could afford. Sometimes the product needed to be redefined; sometimes the whole concept of the business needed to be simplified.
He would figure out the solution and roll the company into Axon Enterprises where it would become part of a profitable, money-making organization.
It was the only way. And, most of the time at least, the workers eventually realized that they had no choice but to accept their fate.
Sooner or later Cassie would realize that, too. In the meantime he needed to win her back. He needed to make her forget about the mill.
But how? She had made it clear the night before where she stood. She was not interested in him unless he reconsidered his plans for the mill.
But that was not an option.
He needed to persuade her that his buying the mill was the best scenario in a long list of awful ones. And then they would pick up where they left off in the Bahamas. Once again he remembered how she felt next to him, her warm silky body resting beside him.
Flowers, he thought. He would start with flowers. A dozen roses each day and—
As he pulled into the parking lot he was suddenly distracted by the people waving signs in front of the mill. He stepped out of his car and discovered Willa and Oliver standing side by side, looking at the strikers.
“I can’t believe it,” he heard Oliver say.
“What’s going on?” asked Hunter.
“They’re striking,” said Willa.
“What do we care?” Oliver said. “We’re moving the operations to China, anyway.” He smiled at Willa. But she did not smile back.
“We do care,” she said. “We need to keep this mill operational until China is set up and ready to go.”
“So,” Oliver said, the smile fading from his lips, “what do we do?”
Hunter glanced at Willa. “Find out who the organizer is.”
“And?”
“Bring them to me,” he said in a voice that inspired fear in even the strongest of men. With that he brushed past Oliver and headed toward the mill.
If these people thought he could be taken down by a simple strike, they were mistaken. If they wanted a fight, they were going to get it. He was done being Mr. Nice Guy.
Cassie sipped her steaming hot chocolate. She had seen Hunter from a distance, and the unhappy look on his face was enough to bring a smile to her lips. He was learning that the artisans at the mill were a bit tougher and more well organized than he thought.
“Look who’s coming,” Ruby said, motioning behind Cassie. Cassie turned around. Willa was walking toward her, her lips taut in a half smirk, half smile. As she walked, the crowd became silent and parted, staring as she passed. She did not acknowledge them but kept her eyes focused on Cassie.
Cassie stood up straight and inhaled, as if bracing for a fight.
Willa stopped in front of her. “Cassie,” she said, “can I talk to you for a minute?”
Cassie nodded. She handed the remainder of her hot chocolate to Ruby, who accepted it with a comforting nod. Then Cassie turned and followed Willa back into the empty building. They walked in silence to the cafeteria. Once inside the cavernous room, Willa turned to face her. She said, “I believe you owe me an apology.”
“We had no choice but to strike,” Cassie explained. “I tried to speak with you—”
“I’m not talking about the strike,” Willa said in a tone so sweet it was bitter. “I was talking about last night.”
Cassie suddenly remembered that she had left the party shortly after her confrontation with Hunter.
“Honestly, Cassie,” Willa said, hands on her hips. “I have a mind to fire you right now. How dare you harass the governor.”
Cassie did not look away. She was not afraid of Willa, nor was she intimidated by her threats.
Willa raised an eyebrow. “Don’t make the mistake of thinking that your…relationship with Hunter will protect you.”
Cassie swallowed. Had Hunter confided in Willa? “I don’t have a relationship with Mr. Axon.” And she wasn’t lying. A one-night stand hardly qualified as a relationship.
“You’re a fool,” Willa said. “Whatever it is you’re doing to him or with him, it’s not going to make any difference in the long run. Do you understand me?”
“No,” Cassie said. “I don’t.”
“Hunter Axon is a kiss-and-don’t-call type of guy. He may be intrigued by you, but it’ll fade as soon as you start interfering with business. If you’re interested in landing more than a job, I’d suggest you stop interfering with Hunter’s plans.”
“You’re wrong about my interest in Hunter. I want to save this mill. I’ll do whatever I can to make that happen.”
“Even if it means giving Hunter your virginity?”
“What?” Cassie said, startled. How could she know about that? How could Hunter have confided such an intimate detail?
“Don’t think Oliver didn’t tell me about how you’ve held on to it for all these long years.”
Oliver. Oliver had told her she was a virgin. Hunter had kept his silence.
“Is that what you’ve offered Hunter?” Willa asked. “A night with a virgin?”
“I’ve had enough,” Cassie said. She turned to leave.
But Willa stopped her with her words. “Do your friends know of your feelings for the man who’s destroying their company?”
“I told you, Willa, you’re wrong.” Once again Cassie reminded herself that the man who had captured her heart was fictitious, a figment of her imagination. He bore no resemblance to the man known as Hunter Axon.
Willa looked her over carefully. “Perhaps,” she said. “But I doubt it. I’m never wrong.”
Cassie glanced away. She wanted to say something, but what?
“He’ll never care about you,” Willa said. “Other women have tried, just like you, to get his attention. They only succeeded in irritating him. Hunter does not like to be distracted from his mission.”
Once again Cassie faced Willa. “And what is that?”
Willa smiled. “Making money, of course.”
Hunter had made a decision. He would cancel one week of severance for every hour of the strike. A person who had worked there for eight years would erase his entire severance in one day.
It was a drastic measure, but necessary. He had little patience for games.
Willa entered without knocking and crossed her arms.
Hunter snapped his phone shut. “What are their demands?” he asked, rolling up his sleeves as if readying for a fight.
Willa smiled smugly. “I’ve found the organizer. I think she should tell you herself.” With a dramatic sweep of her arm, Willa stepped aside.
Cassie.
She stood still, her arms crossed in front of her and her eyes defiant. A bandanna was tied around her head, holding back her beautiful reddish-brown hair. She was wearing a loose-fitting flannel shirt rolled up at the sleeves and an old pair of jeans.
As far as Hunter was concerned, he had never been presented with a more worthy foe. Nor had he ever seen anyone so beautiful.
“You?” he heard himself say.
Willa said, “She’s the one behind this ridiculous strike. She was working the phones all night, organizing the workers. According to Oliver, they’ve never done anything like this before.”
He continued to look at Cassie. “Why?”
Cassie stood up straight and said, “We’re not going to let you take this mill away from us. Not without a fight.”
“I didn’t take this mill away from you,” he said. “The Demions did.”
“You are the owner,” she said, narrowing her fiery green eyes. “Correct?”
> As he stared at the woman in front of him, he could feel his resolve melt. How could he tell her that he was canceling her severance? How could he hurt her?
He had to admit he admired her spirit. But what could she possibly hope to gain by such a ruse? The mill would be closing in a few months. He could bring in other workers in the meantime. Or could he? This was not a typical factory. Loom weaving was a dying skill. Machines had taken over for people. And in the rare cases where human skills were needed, production had been moved, as he intended, to China. Where would he find skilled artisans who were familiar with the antiquated looms?
He stopped himself. Was he just trying to make a case for Cassie? Were his personal feelings affecting his business decisions?
Hell, yes. Anyone else would have already received an ultimatum and been shown the door.
“This is ridiculous,” Willa said. “You are wasting Mr. Axon’s time.”
He held up a hand to silence her. “What are your demands?” he asked Cassie.
“Give up the plant in China. Keep the jobs here.”
He shook his head. He might be amenable to a demand for more severance, but did she really think he would abandon his intention so easily? “That’s impossible.”
Willa said, “The cost benefit will not—”
“So sell us the mill,” Cassie said, interrupting her.
“What?” Willa asked.
Hunter looked at her intently and said, “Have you found a bank to finance the sale?”
She swallowed and glanced away. “We will.”
Willa laughed. It was a shrill, almost piercing sound. “Axon Enterprises is not a bank.”
“This isn’t right,” Cassie said, staring at him with burning, reproachful eyes. “You have no interest in running a mill, nor do you have any appreciation for the work that we do.”
“Whether I appreciate it or not is beside the point,” Hunter said calmly. “I bought it. And I own it.”
“All you want is the Bodyguard patent. So take it. But give us back the mill.”
He was silent for a moment. “Sell you the mill, but keep the patent?”
“That’s right. You can go produce the patent in China. And we’ll stay right here, making beautiful fabrics.”
He sighed. He felt for her. He did. And he wanted to help her. But even well-meaning workers would not be able to keep this mill afloat. It had been hemorrhaging money for years. “What will that do? You’ll still have a mill on the verge of bankruptcy.”
“We’ll take that chance.”
“Cassie,” Oliver said, appearing in the doorway. He looked shocked to see her there. “What are you doing?”
“I’m talking to your new boss,” she said simply.
He took her by the arm. “Why are you doing this to me?”
Hunter’s blood boiled at the sight of another man touching Cassie. Get your hands off her, he ached to say. Instead he said in a voice that commanded attention, “Let her speak.”
Cassie shrugged her arm away from Oliver’s grasp.
“We’re not going down without a fight,” she said, looking directly at Hunter. “We will not go back to work until you agree to our demands.”
He did not like being threatened. “I can bring in others to do your jobs,” he said.
“It will take time. Time which, we understand, you don’t have.”
Under any other circumstance, he would have been furious. He did not negotiate with soon-to-be-obsolete factory workers. But the frustration he felt toward the situation only seemed to fuel his desire for Cassie.
She crossed her arms, defiant. “We’re not going to stop at the strike, either. We’ll call the news media, we’ll write letters to politicians….”
“The news media?” Willa said. “What news media?”
“The Albany stations.”
Willa scoffed. “As if they care about a local-yokel mill an hour away.”
“I’m not going to give up until you listen to me,” Cassie said to Hunter. “I may not succeed but I can make this very, very difficult for you.”
Willa took a step toward Cassie. “How dare you threaten Mr. Axon like that.” She turned back toward Hunter and said, “I apologize for this insolence. I suggest you let me deal with this little insurgence.”
Still looking at Cassie, Hunter said to Willa, “Will you give me a minute alone with Cassie, please?”
Willa said, “I think this is setting a poor example. If you kowtow to these ridiculous demands, any of them, it will hinder our efforts in other communities.”
“I’ll deal with Cassie,” Hunter repeated through clenched jaws.
“Oh,” Willa said, as if he had been communicating in code. “Alone. Right, I got it.” Willa shot Cassie a nasty smile. “Of course, Hunter,” she said. “Come along, Oliver.”
When Oliver and Willa had left, Hunter took a step toward Cassie and said, “Sit down.”
“No, thanks,” she said.
He took another step toward her. “I wasn’t asking you. I was telling you.”
“Thanks for the explanation, but I wasn’t confused.”
“Yes,” he said, “I think you are. This is not personal, Cassie. Whether you like it or not, I’m your boss. And you are costing me money.”
“So fire me,” she said.
“If I thought that would solve anything, I would. But I’m not about to give up the one degree of control I have.”
This time it was Cassie’s turn to step toward him. She looked up at him with anger smoldering in her eyes. “I don’t care who you are. I’m not afraid of you. You can’t control me.”
It was a dare, plain and simple. But as he stared into Cassie’s cool green eyes, his anger once again gave way to passion. She was wrong. He may not be able to control her mind but he damn well could control her body. He had done it before and was desperate to do it again. He wanted to take her in his arms, to make her sigh with pleasure and burn with desire.
“I see,” he said. He swallowed and forced himself to turn away. “What are you offering?”
“What?”
“You’re the mediator,” he said. He glanced back at her. “You want to buy this mill. Tell your people to give me an offer.”
“You’ll consider it?”
He paused. “I’ll consider just about anything.”
She took a step backward and glanced away. But she was not quick enough. Hunter had seen the surprise in her eyes. She had not expected him to negotiate. So why was she doing this?
“I have to discuss this with my co-workers,” she said.
“I’ll give you twenty-four hours. You can present your proposal to my board.”
“Tomorrow?”
Hunter thought he could detect a hint of panic. “Correct.”
“Your board is coming here?”
“No,” he said. “You’re going to them.”
“Where?”
“The Bahamas.”
She paled, revealing a hint of despair. Normally he would enjoy watching an antagonizer squirm. But not this time. He wanted to comfort her. To tell her everything would be all right.
“Be at the airport at noon tomorrow,” he said. “My plane will be waiting.”
She cleared her throat and asked, “Are we going together?”
“No,” he said. “I’m leaving momentarily. After all, there’s no reason for me to stay. Unless…”
“Unless what?”
“Unless you want me to.”
He let his eyes gaze over her, drinking in her beauty.
She swallowed and touched the top button of her shirt as if making sure it was still closed. “No.”
“So be it.” He walked over to the door and opened it. “Until tomorrow.”
She stood up and walked past him, accidentally brushing up against his arm as she passed. After she had left he shut the door and smiled. At that moment he would’ve been willing to sell her the mill for another night of passion.
Seven
By the
time Cassie landed in Nassau it was nearly six. The attendant directed her out of the plane and toward the waiting limousine.
As she walked across the tarmac, she found herself shaking her head. It seemed unbelievable that she, Cassie Edwards, would be flying in a private plane and driving around in a limousine. After all, she was the girl who had to stick a hairbrush in her choke to start her car, the girl whose car engine leaked oil so badly she was forced to carry a case of oil and a can opener so she could add more at each destination.
She wondered what it would be like to be as rich as Hunter Axon. She knew that some people assumed there was no such thing as having too much money, but she disagreed. To some unfortunate souls, money was like a drug, intoxicating and overwhelming. The more they had, the more they wanted.
Like Oliver. He had been the richest man in Shanville, living a life that most just dreamed of. But it was not enough. And his quest for more cost him his company, his town and the people who loved him. She was certain that Oliver would one day discover that wealth could not buy him what he wanted most: happiness.
She couldn’t help but compare Oliver to Hunter Axon. Hunter was intense, serious and ambitious. Not to mention one of the richest men in the country. But was he happy? He did not have a wife or children. But he had his pick of women, which, in and of itself, would probably be enough to make most men happy.
Cassie nervously licked her lips. She had to stop thinking of Hunter in such personal terms. He was her employer, her boss. End of subject. It did not matter if he was happy or unhappy.
She stepped inside the limousine and introduced herself to the driver. She then opened up her proposal and went over her notes one last time. After a grueling seven-hour meeting, the employees of Demion Mills had agreed on an offer. They would not try to buy back the patent. They couldn’t afford it. But they would give Hunter more than a fair price for the mill. The deal, however, was dependent on his cooperation. They would make payments to him, forcing him to act as a bank.
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