The Boss Man's Fortune (Dynasties: The Danforths Book 5)

by Kathryn Jensen

  She kept her head down as Ian led her across the room, past a young man wielding a digital camera.

  “What’s wrong?” Ian asked.

  “Nothing, I just don’t feel right without my glasses. I shouldn’t have left them at home.” They were sort of hokey as disguises went, but she felt more exposed without them.

  “You said you could see fine without them. Just for reading, right?”

  “Yes, but—”

  “You look great without them,” he whispered so close to her ear it made her shiver. “I’m surprised you didn’t switch to contacts years ago.”

  She shrugged. If he ever looked at the lenses, he’d see they were clear glass.

  “And the dress is stunning,” he added.

  Her gown did seem to be attracting attention among the guests. She’d chosen a gorgeous red georgette, ankle-length dress with spaghetti straps. As backless as a dress could be without flaunting the law. The owner of the salon where Ian had taken her insisted that the right red with her auburn hair would be magnificent. Apparently the man knew his colors. Every head turned as they passed.

  “Thank you for the compliment,” she said, meaning it, “and for the lovely dress. I do like it.” Although now, under the lingering gaze of hundreds of eyes, she wondered if she should have selected something more subtle. But how could any woman pass up the perfect red dress?

  “Good. It suits you.”

  She sensed he was holding back, keeping his comments relatively impersonal. Perhaps feeling awkward about their relationship now that it had wandered, albeit for practical reasons, outside of the office.

  “Tell me what I’m supposed to do, other than smile and eat,” she said.

  “That’s about it. I’ll introduce you to the family. We have two tables reserved. My father will make a statement regarding our responsibility as citizens to care for our own—the homeless, those without jobs, children in need of support outside of their families. All good causes the Danforths have always championed.”

  She looked up at him. His expression was solemn, and genuine sadness touched his words. She believed he really did feel for the less fortunate.

  Katie had been raised with the same ideals. She was proud of the Fortunes’ contributions to society. “Then your father wants voters to know he’s committed to solving the homeless problem?”

  Ian nodded firmly. “That’s why we’re here.”

  From that moment on, she made spreading the word on Abraham’s dedication her mission for the evening.

  The speakers were thankfully brief. Abraham Danforth’s simple but eloquent plea to the elite of Savannah rang with the generosity of a great man. Katie was impressed, and she could see in Ian’s eyes an appreciation for his father, as if he, too, was learning about the man like the others in the room.

  The food was delicious and nearly worth the price of a seat at the beautifully decorated tables. After dinner everyone was on their feet, mixing, chatting, milling about. Katie moved with Ian through the room, greeting people. When the topic of conversation threatened to turn to the Danforths’ recent troubles, Katie deftly steered the group back toward the reason for the gala.

  “Where did you learn to be such a diplomat?” Ian whispered as he took her hand and drew her into a corner away from the crowd and the orchestra. The hour was growing late, but she still felt fresh and excited.

  Hadn’t her parents and grandparents hosted fundraisers all of her life? Hadn’t she been groomed to the social life? But she couldn’t tell Ian that. She came up with a half-truth.

  “With two bossy brothers, you learn to make peace or get clobbered.”

  He laughed. “I can’t believe your parents would have actually allowed them to hit you.”

  “Oh, they wouldn’t. My brothers learned early that so much as raising a hand to a girl was forbidden and resulted in swift punishment. But they found other ways to make my life miserable.”

  “Are they all still in Arizona?”

  The question took her by surprise. “I…well, yes, my brothers never left.”

  “I’d like to meet the O’Brien boys someday,” he said, with a rare smile. “What are their names?”

  This was verging on dangerous territory. She didn’t want to lie to Ian, but she was already caught up in her own deception, and there seemed no easy way out of it.

  A shift in the crowd opened her view of the room. Abraham was walking past a couple of tables near the rear when a man reached out and stopped him with a tug on his sleeve. There was something demanding, almost threatening in the gesture. He was smiling tightly, speaking to Abraham, and she felt Ian’s father tense from clear across the room.

  “Who is that?” she asked.

  Ian followed her gaze. “Talking to my father?”

  “Yes. Him and the guy seated beside him.”

  Ian’s eyes narrowed as he studied the scene. “How did they get in here?” he muttered.

  “Who?”

  “Jaime Hernandez is a Colombian coffee supplier. The man with his hand on Dad’s arm is Ernesto Escalante. He’s been trying to pressure me into buying from Hernandez.”

  “Why would he do that?” she asked, even as he started moving between tables across the room.

  “That’s the question. From the information we’ve gathered, I’m pretty sure Escalante is a major mover in a cartel that deals in controlled substances.”

  “You mean he’s a drug lord?”

  “Yes. And if he’s hoping to use Danforth & Danforth to launder his dirty money, he’s going to be disappointed.”

  They were already halfway across the room. The crowd had thinned considerably in the past hour, making it easier to move. Ian broke into a jog, and Katie picked up her skirt and ran to keep up with him.

  “Why don’t you tell them to go away?” she asked breathlessly as they rounded a table.

  “We have. They won’t.”

  She shivered at the stormy look in Ian’s eyes. Impulsively she grasped his hand, trying to slow him down.

  “Wait. Are they dangerous?”

  He kept moving, dragging her along with him. “I don’t know. But they don’t belong here, and they’re about to leave.” He shook off her hand. “Stay here.”

  Katie swallowed as she watched him cross the last twenty feet in long strides. It wasn’t that she thought Ian couldn’t handle himself. And Abraham, the combat veteran of an earlier generation, was a man who wouldn’t back down from any confrontation. But she couldn’t let whatever might happen next attract the interest of the press. As much for Abraham’s sake as for her own.

  A reporter could twist an incident like this in the most obscene direction. Honest Abe II Parties with Drug Lords! His campaign was bound to suffer.

  She looked around quickly and located a tall, serious looking man she was sure must be one of the security team employed for the function. Dressed in a rental tux to blend with the crowd, he didn’t appear to have noticed the potential trouble. She’d made friends with her father’s private guards as a child. During her teenage years, they’d sometimes looked the other way when she wanted to sneak out and visit a girlfriend.

  Katie walked up to him and whispered a few words. Seconds later, he had communicated by radio with three other fellows with no discernible necks. They moved in quickly around the Danforths and the Colombians.

  “Anything we can do, sir?” the senior of the squad asked casually.

  Ian looked around, as if surprised then relieved. “My father was just suggesting these gentlemen might find the rest of the evening a little tame for their taste in entertainment.”

  The Colombians looked at Ian, then Abraham, then the guards. “We’re supporting a good cause by being here,” Escalante said, stubbing out his cigar. “The band is quite good. Our ladies like to dance.” He winked at the two young women in sequined gowns who sat at their table.

  “We’re here to raise money for the unfortunate,” Ian said coldly. “If you want to talk business, make arrangements with
my office. My father is no longer actively involved in the company’s operating decisions.”

  “Ah, too bad,” Hernandez said, his eyes bright and black. He laughed. “They put you out to pasture, Grandpa?”

  Abraham was about to respond angrily but Ian put his hand on his father’s arm. “Don’t, Dad.”

  Katie held her breath until the elder Danforth took a step back, though his face was a rigid mask of anger.

  “Another meeting would accomplish nothing,” Ian stated. “I’ve already told you, we won’t be purchasing from you, Mr. Hernandez. Mr. Escalante knows my reasons.”

  “I’m disappointed to hear that,” Hernandez said, standing beside Escalante. He was a short man, but his hands were massive, their backs ridged with muscle as if he’d used them hard all of his life.

  Nevertheless, it was Escalante who struck Katie as the more dangerous of the two. His dark, glittering eyes never ceased moving, taking in the whole room, gauging every movement—close or far. And he never stopped smiling.

  “Maybe, for reasons of their own, my good friend’s competitors will drop out of the race. Then you will need to buy his coffee beans to stay in business,” Escalante said. “You won’t have a choice.”

  Katie held her breath. Abraham looked as if he was about to explode, but Ian stepped in front of his father. “If anyone withdraws their bid for our business, we’ll know why,” Ian warned, his eyes narrowed, the muscles along the sides of his neck taut. “There are laws against your kind of strong-arm tactics.”

  Katie laid a hand on his arm when he took a step toward the two men. The security guards took their cue and moved in closer.

  For several heartbeats, the tension hung thick and prickly about them, and Katie literally held her breath. At last, the two Colombians stepped away from the table and signaled their dates to join them.

  “We will be in touch,” Escalante said, still smiling.

  Katie’s heart raced painfully, and her skin crawled as she watched the foursome leave the room, escorted by two of the security guards. The muscles beneath the straps of her gown burned with strain, and she gave each shoulder a little roll to loosen them.

  Abraham looked around the room, as if to reassure himself that the press hadn’t witnessed any of what had just happened. Luckily, the photographers seemed to have left by then.

  “You won’t let them in, Ian,” Abraham murmured as he watched them disappear through the ballroom doorway.

  “No, sir. We have a legitimate reason for not dealing with them. Their product isn’t up to our standards.”

  “Good. Stick to your guns.” Abraham turned to Katie. “Thank you, my dear, for having the good sense to round up reinforcements.” He smiled graciously. “It’s always best to have the numbers on your side.”

  Ian opened the door for Katie and stepped back to let her inside her apartment. The Colombians’ appearance at the gala had chilled the spirit of the festivities. He had left as soon as he sensed Abraham didn’t need him anymore.

  “You must be exhausted,” he told Katie, handing back the keys to her.

  She smiled at him over her shoulder and pirouetted across the modest living room, red georgette fluttering about her ankles. “Not at all. I’m still all charged up!”

  He supposed she was pretending for his benefit. He felt utterly drained. “I’m sorry about that scene. It spoiled a good party.”

  “No, it didn’t. I thought it was rather exciting, ac-tu-al-ly.” Her final word seemed to require a good deal of concentration to correctly complete it. The trajectory of her stroll across the living room swerved a few feet north of the couch. She turned, stepped to her left and plopped down on the middle cushion with a grin. “Great party!”

  “You had way too much champagne in the last half hour before we left,” he said, shutting the apartment door behind him. He wanted to make sure she’d be all right before he took his leave. “Can I make you some coffee?”

  She lifted a delicate hand and waved it at him in polite refusal. “No need. By the by, you and your father make a killer team.”

  She was intentionally changing the subject, but he was intrigued and didn’t call her on it. “How is that?” He’d never thought of himself as good enough for Abraham’s team, whatever the job. Most of his childhood had been spent trying to prove himself to a man who was rarely around.

  When Abraham handed over Danforth & Danforth Import Company to him, Ian had been genuinely surprised, even though it was traditional for the eldest son to take the reins when the father retired. Of course, this had happened all the sooner because of Abraham’s political aspirations.

  Katie made a pleased sound in her throat halfway between a sigh and a purr. “I tell you…the fire in both your eyes was enough to make any party crasher slink away.” She tapped the cushion beside her on the couch. “Have a seat. You deserve a rest.”

  He focused on the right shoulder strap of her dress, which had slipped down her arm. Even when properly supported, the scooped bodice revealed an enticing décolleté. He wasn’t sure that bringing himself closer to that part of her anatomy would be wise.

  He sat anyway. And enjoyed the view.

  “You know,” she said, letting her head drop back and eyes drift closed, “you don’t make a bad boss at all.”

  “Thank you.” He wasn’t absolutely sure she was drunk. Perhaps this was just one of her playful moods. Either way, he felt caution was advisable. “You don’t make a bad assistant.”

  “Liar.” She laughed.

  Ian smiled at her. “Well, you haven’t had much time to practice. I expect you’ll learn. One day you’ll be a top-notch EA.” He studied her for a moment. Her eyes were still shut, and she was smiling at something. “Or something far more challenging. Tell me about yourself, Katie.”

  “You have my résumé.”

  “I mean, who are you really? Tell me about your family and growing up in Arizona. I’ve never been there.”

  Her eyelids flickered open suddenly, and she stared at him, suddenly sober. “I had a family like anyone else. It was really a very boring childhood.”

  He slowly shook his head. “No. There’s something different about you. Something polished and fine.” He touched an auburn lock that had separated itself from the tumble of curls over her shoulders. “And mysterious.”

  Her laugh this time was forced. “That’s ridiculous.”

  He leaned toward her. “So why did you turn your face away or duck into the ladies’ room whenever a photographer came our way tonight? Why are you so worried about having your picture taken?”

  “I’ve just always been sensitive about my appearance,” she said defensively.

  “I don’t believe that for a minute. You look sensational, and you know it.”

  She stiffened and flashed her eyes at him. “Maybe you should leave now. I’m tired.”

  But he was just getting started. He’d hit a nerve, and he sensed that if he pushed just a little harder he’d discover what it was that made Katie O’Brien seem so special. And why she wanted to hide it.

  “I’ll leave, if you tell me three things I don’t already know about you.”

  She rolled her eyes, groaned and dropped her head back against the couch cushions in an exaggerated posture of defeat. “You want to play guessing games? All right, you win.” She viewed him slyly through a screen of long lashes. “But you have to follow the same rules. I tell you three secrets, and you tell me three things I haven’t already discovered about you.”

  He wasn’t sure he liked the second part of the bargain, but if it was the price he had to pay… “You first.”

  “Fine.” She thought for a moment, and he got the clear sense that she was eliminating information she felt uncomfortable sharing. “I hate asparagus.”

  “Not personal enough,” he objected. If she was going to play cat and mouse with him, he was damn well going to be one aggressive feline.

  “I take asparagus very personally!” She huffed at him when he leveled an
uncompromising gaze her way. “Oh, all right. My father was in construction…how’s that?”

  “I’m not sure that counts, since you already told me that. But I’ll let it go this time,” he said generously.

  She grinned. “Thanks. Now you.”

  “The estate where I grew up, Crofthaven, has a ghost.”

  “No.” She laughed. “I thought you were just kidding about that.”

  “Honest, it does. We’ve all seen her, one time or another.”

  “Her? You can tell it’s a woman?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “I’d love to meet her.” She sat up straight, her eyes no longer the least bit sleepy looking. They shone with rich variegated greens he’d only seen one clear day when he’d been vacationing on the Adriatic Sea. He moved closer, intrigued by their brightness.

  “My theory is,” he began again slowly, “she only appears to people she feels might help her. Mostly family members.”

  “Help her do what?”

  “We’re not sure what she’s asking us to do,” he said.

  “She talks?” Katie unconsciously did the trick he liked so well with the tip of her tongue along her upper lip, and it totally unsettled him.

  He nodded but couldn’t take his eyes off her mouth, which was so very expressive when she was concentrating. “She says something, although it’s difficult to understand her. All I’ve ever gotten is something about needing to go home. And once, I thought I heard the word farther.”

  “Wow.” She looked thoughtful. “That was a good one. Now I can’t hold back.” She took a deep breath. “Okay. My family lives in the desert. It’s very beautiful. Not many people know that. They think of the desert as something dangerous and uncomfortable and ugly. But it isn’t at all.”

  “Tell me what it’s like.” The urge to connect with her in a way other than words was irresistible. He rested his hand over hers, but she didn’t seem to notice.

  “After it rains, the cacti bloom. The flowers are the color of sunshine—orange, red, yellow and gold. It’s as if they’ve been sleeping, soaking up all that brightness and waiting to give it back on the first rainy day.”