Destiny Unleashed

by Sherryl Woods

  Carefully, he replaced the book in its place of honor on his shelf, then buzzed for his assistant. Malcolm Dandridge had been with Harcourt & Sons since William’s father’s day. There was little Malcolm didn’t know about what went on inside the company and in corporate London. William counted on Malcolm’s loyalty and his discretion. Over the years both had proved invaluable.

  “Yes, sir?” Malcolm said, entering with pad in hand, ready for whatever business William needed him to tend to.

  “Sit, Malcolm. Tell me what you’ve heard about Carlton Industries lately.”

  To his credit, Malcolm had never asked about William’s seeming obsession with the American conglomerate. Nor had he criticized the sometimes inexplicable decisions William had made to go after companies that were ill suited for Harcourt & Sons. If he thought William’s behavior was reckless, he was far too polite and loyal to mention it.

  “It’s been a bit quiet lately,” Malcolm reported. “It’s my opinion, sir, that the last negotiation rattled them. It proved rather costly, thanks to your clever strategy. I’m sure they’re busy trying to conserve capital in order to offset that particular deal.”

  “Anything about the new chairman?” William asked, wondering if Lloyd had gotten it right and Destiny truly was coming to take over. “Has one been appointed?”

  “Yes, sir. A Ms. Destiny Carlton, a rather surprising choice according to my sources.”

  William’s heart did another little stutter step, even though it was old news to him. Having it confirmed made it seem that much more real.

  “When will she be taking over?” he asked, hoping his expression was totally bland.

  “I believe Ms. Carlton is expected in early December, sir.”

  “Not until then?” William asked, both surprised and more than a little disappointed. It was only the beginning of October now. “Any explanation for the delay?”

  “None, sir, though it is my opinion that she’s probably being groomed for the position. My sources tell me that she’s had virtually no hands-on experience at the company. I believe that we will be able to make some solid inroads against them once she’s on the scene.”

  “Don’t sell her short,” William warned.

  Malcolm looked startled by his sharp tone. “You know her, sir?”

  “Quite well, as a matter of fact. She might not have spent much time working with the company, but it would be naive to assume she can’t handle the job. She’s a Carlton, after all. I suspect we’ll have our work cut out for us, if we intend to get the better of her.” He was not about to admit how much the prospect excited him. There was a deal on the table right now for a group of faltering travel agencies. The notion of battling wits with Destiny to acquire it right out from under her was stimulating. This was one fight he intended to win at any cost, a metaphor of sorts for his intentions toward Destiny.

  “As you say, sir. But as brilliant as she may be, she’ll be no match for you. The nephew certainly hasn’t been.”

  “Because his mind hasn’t been on it,” William guessed. “And the stakes haven’t been high enough.” He paused thoughtfully. “I imagine Destiny’s going to come in and do something dramatic, if only to get our attention. She won’t be satisfied to win this skirmish for Fortnum Travel. I wonder what her first target for acquisition will be?”

  “Shall I see what I can find out?” Malcolm asked. “Perhaps there are rumors inside the company.”

  William nodded. “Yes, definitely, see what you can learn, Malcolm. A preemptive strike might be just the thing. We’ll want to keep her on her toes.”

  In fact, he thought cheerfully, a preemptive strike might bring Destiny roaring straight into his office, eyes blazing and temper high. Now, there was a sight he’d been longing to see for far too long now.

  Destiny was growing weary of all the admonitions and instructions and piles and piles of detailed reports, most of which she’d read long before she’d put her plan into play. She knew perfectly well that Richard was merely trying to overwhelm her with so much information, to make the task seem so daunting and formidable that she’d give up in frustration and declare herself no longer interested in taking over the European division. He still wasn’t entirely reconciled to this whole idea of her as an integral part of the company.

  She frowned as Richard went over ground he’d covered just last week…and the week before that.

  “Do you truly believe that I am so forgetful that I don’t know we’ve been over this twice before?” she asked finally, her voice filled with undisguised frustration.

  He seemed startled by her question. “Have we?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Either you’re the forgetful one or you’ve gotten your strategy completely muddled.”

  “Strategy? What strategy?”

  “To make me forget what you still believe is a crazy idea,” she said mildly. “Mack and Beth’s baby is due any day now. I’m leaving in two weeks, Richard. Get used to it.”

  “I just want you to be fully prepared to pull off this Fortnum Travel acquisition. We can’t afford any missteps,” he retorted defensively. “This deal will set the tone for everything you do from now on. After all, you’re not just someone new coming in. You’re a Carlton. How would it look if you’re not on top of things?”

  “I’m sure the earth would keep spinning,” she responded.

  “But you need to have everyone’s respect from the moment you set foot into the building,” he said. “You only have one chance to make a first impression. How many times did you drill that little maxim into my head?”

  “A first impression is one thing,” she responded. “Respect is something else entirely. No one gains respect just because they show up, I don’t care what their name is. Respect is earned. I expect to pay my dues in that regard, which is why we will acquire Fortnum Travel. I won’t let it slip away. I promise.”

  “I’m just trying to make it a bit easier,” he grumbled.

  “I know,” she soothed. “And I do appreciate it, but this is getting old, Richard. It’s not as if there aren’t phones and faxes over there. I’ll be able to reach you at a moment’s notice if something comes up that I can’t handle. I’m neither proud nor foolish. I’ll ask for any help I need.”

  “Yes, of course,” he said finally, his expression resigned. “Is there anything I can help with now?”

  Destiny had been waiting for just this moment. She’d been toying with an idea for a few weeks now, something guaranteed to get William’s attention and show him that she was about to make his life the same sort of hell he’d been trying to create for Carlton Industries. It would be solid proof that she was just as capable as he of capitalizing on the intimate secrets they’d shared all those years ago. She reached into her briefcase and pulled out a thick folder. She’d left absolutely no stone unturned in accumulating her research to make her case to Richard. The cover sheet was concise, but there were pages of backup material for every premise she’d stated.

  “Take a look at this,” she said, handing it to Richard. “Tell me what you think. I want your honest opinion. Don’t sugarcoat anything.”

  Richard’s eyes widened as he glanced through the detailed research. “You’ve spent a lot of time on this,” he said eventually in a cautious tone that could only be construed as less-than-a-ringing endorsement.

  “I wanted to be sure I could answer any questions you might have.”

  “The numbers make sense,” he admitted.

  “But?”

  He gave her a perplexed look. “Why on earth would you want to acquire some nothing little bookstore? I don’t get it. It’s not the kind of business that’s a good fit for us. It’s too small. There’s no real growth potential.”

  She smiled at his logic. It was exactly what she’d expected. Richard was very much a bottom-line kind of man.

  “But it is the kind of business that fits quite nicely with Harcourt & Sons,” she explained. “It’s the only major antiquarian bookseller in London that’s o
n a par with H&S Books. The owner is old. He wants to retire, but he doesn’t want to sell to just anyone. He’s been annoyed at Harcourt & Sons for some time now for the aggressive way they’ve gone after rare books. He finds it a bit unseemly. He’s from an era that considered the pursuit of rare editions to be a gentleman’s sport.”

  “So we help him to get his revenge,” Richard said slowly. “And in the process, we annoy the daylights out of William Harcourt.”

  Destiny beamed at him. “Precisely. It’s the last thing he’ll be expecting. Right now all of his attention is on the Fortnum Travel deal.”

  “But will he really care? This is nothing to a man like Harcourt.”

  “In dollars and cents, yes,” she agreed. “But not in importance. H&S Books is the cornerstone of the company, their prestige division. It was William’s great-grandmother’s creation. It has huge sentimental value, if not financial significance. William won’t be happy if he thinks we’re about to invest major money in his competition and target it for expansion. And it will send a clear message that if he continues to go after us, we’ll go after him, business by business, first books, then tea, then clothing, until we have competition not just in England, but all over Europe.”

  Richard regarded her with evident surprise. “You really do have a knack for this, don’t you? And a rather bloodthirsty eagerness to go for the jugular.”

  “Well, of course I do,” Destiny said impatiently. “Nobody messes with my family and gets away with it. Making William sit up and take notice will be my pleasure.”

  “It’s not all about getting even with Harcourt,” Richard warned. “We do have a company to run over there. Some of our existing businesses are not performing to our expectations. Those need to be addressed, too.”

  “I know that and I have plans for each and every one of them. This,” she said, gesturing toward the folder, “is just for the fun of it.”

  Richard laughed. “Let me go over these figures again tonight.”

  “Don’t take too long. I want to arrive in London with guns blazing.”

  “This is only a BB shot,” Richard reminded her.

  “Even a BB shot hurts when you’re not expecting it and it hits you where you live,” Destiny retorted.

  “Remind me never to get on your bad side,” Richard said, regarding her with evident approval for the first time since they’d set off down this road.

  “Darling, you could never get on my bad side,” she assured him. “You’re family, and no matter how annoying you might become, family always forgives and forgets.”

  “Good to know.”

  Even as she left her nephew to ponder her suggested strategy, she couldn’t help wondering if William was going to be shocked that she could come after him the way she intended to, given the feelings they’d once shared. Probably. He seemed to have missed the fact that nothing was more important to her than family. He hadn’t gotten it twenty years ago, and it was plain he didn’t get it now.

  That was just one reason she wanted to arrive in London with an unmistakable message. Apparently William wasn’t too smart about subtleties and nuances. She was going to have to deliver a direct hit, then see to it that she kept them coming until he abandoned the fight and went crawling back to whatever country estate he was living on these days.

  Richard had an odd feeling in the pit of his stomach as he reread Destiny’s proposal for taking over the small but prestigious London bookseller she’d targeted. On the one hand, it didn’t make a lick of sense to acquire Jameson’s Booksellers. It would be a nuisance purchase, requiring them to track down or train someone with the necessary expertise to make a success of it, to make it a worthy rival for H&S Books. On the other hand, he could see precisely why Destiny thought it would be a nice opening salvo against Harcourt.

  He tried to put his finger on what was really bothering him. It wasn’t the cash outlay. That was peanuts to a corporation the size of Carlton Industries. It wasn’t the energy likely to be expended on making and then following through with such an acquisition. So what was it?

  Melanie came into his den after putting their daughter down for the night, took one look at him and murmured, “Uh-oh.”

  He met her gaze. “What?”

  “I know that expression.” She came and sat on his lap and traced the crease in his brow. “You’re worrying about something. And since I recognize Destiny’s handwriting on that file, I assume it has something to do with her.”

  “You’re too smart for your own good,” he murmured, breathing in the flowery scent she’d dabbed on while she was upstairs. It would be very easy right now to forget all about business and spend the rest of the evening in bed with his wife, working on the expansion plan they had in mind for their family. Maybe the prospect of another baby would cut short Destiny’s European adventure and get her back home again.

  “I have to be smart to keep up with you two,” Melanie said. “What’s Destiny done now?”

  “Nothing yet,” he admitted. “But she has an idea she wants to pursue the minute she gets to London.”

  “A bad idea?”

  “Not really.”

  “An expensive idea?”

  “Not at all.”

  “Is it dangerous? I mean to her, personally.”

  “No,” he admitted.

  “Then what’s the problem?”

  Richard sighed. “I can’t put my finger on it. Maybe you can.” He described Destiny’s scheme, then asked, “What do you think?”

  “I think it’s ingenious,” she said at once. “She’s going to be an invaluable asset, you know. Is that what you’re having trouble admitting?”

  “Of course not. I’ve always respected her intelligence. And I’ve always known she was clever. She got the two of us together, didn’t she?”

  “Over your vehement objections, in fact,” Melanie concurred. “And my somewhat less strenuous ones.”

  “Wise woman,” Richard admitted, grinning.

  “Her or me?”

  “Both of you, in fact, but not half as smart as I was to go along with the plan in the end.”

  Melanie kissed him, which momentarily served as a rather effective distraction.

  “Want to know what I think your problem is?” Melanie asked eventually.

  “Sure.”

  “You don’t like the fact that she’s the one who came up with the idea.”

  Richard scowled at her implication. “Don’t be ridiculous. I am not jealous of my own aunt. That would be childish and immature.”

  “Yes, it would,” she agreed readily. “And I’m not suggesting that, but you can’t deny that it is nagging at you that she apparently has enough insight into what makes William Harcourt tick to come up with a plot like this.”

  The explanation resonated with him a little too clearly. “You could be right,” he admitted slowly. “I don’t like anything I don’t understand, and Destiny has never been forthcoming about just what this man meant to her. I’m beginning to get the nasty feeling that he was quite important to her once, more important than any of us have suspected.”

  “And if he was?”

  “Then he’s a real danger to her and to the company,” he said.

  Melanie regarded him with shock. “You can’t honestly think she would ever betray Carlton Industries.”

  He heard her scandalized tone and tried quickly to explain that he didn’t doubt Destiny’s honesty or integrity. “I don’t think she would do anything intentionally,” he began carefully. “But people who think they’re in love do all sorts of crazy things they might not do if they were thinking clearly.”

  “Like us?”

  “This is nothing like us,” he protested. “There was never any conflict of interest with the two of us.”

  Melanie stood up, her disapproval plain. “I suggest you not repeat your concerns to Destiny,” she told him quietly but emphatically.

  He stared at her blankly, not quite getting why she was suddenly seething. “I have an oblig
ation to the company. Why the hell shouldn’t I say something if I think she’s putting our interests at risk?” he demanded.

  “Because your implication is insulting, and frankly, if I were Destiny, I’d slap you silly. I’m very tempted to do it myself on her behalf.”

  She stalked off then, obviously every bit as insulted as she insisted Destiny was likely to be.

  Richard stared after his wife in consternation. Give him a complex business situation to resolve anytime, because if he lived to be a hundred, he would never understand the women in his life.

  3

  Malcolm’s usually dour expression was downright grim when he walked into William’s office at the end of the day on the last Friday in November. It was already well past quitting time, but William had lingered, not the least bit anxious to face the raw London night or his lonely flat. He’d been about to pour himself a glass of whisky when Malcolm appeared.

  “Care for a drink?” he asked his assistant.

  “Yes, sir, I believe I would.”

  William poured two fingers of whisky into each heavy crystal glass and handed one to Malcolm. “Why don’t you tell me what has you looking so positively dire?” he suggested, sitting in the chair next to the one Malcolm had taken. Because William had known the older man since he was a boy, their relationship was far more informal than those William had with other employees of the firm. In many ways Malcolm still served as a surrogate father figure.

  “You won’t like it, sir,” Malcolm announced gloomily.

  “Bad news is usually best spoken quickly, man. What is it? There’s very little you and I haven’t had to deal with over the years. We’ve managed most of it rather well.”

  “It’s Jameson’s Booksellers this time, sir,” Malcolm said. “It’s been sold.”

  William was obviously missing why this spelled catastrophe. “The old man has to be nearing ninety,” he said. “Where’s the shock in him selling now? In fact, if I’d known he was thinking of retiring, I’d have made an offer myself. It would be a nice fit for us, but it’s no loss if someone else is taking over. Jameson’s is very small potatoes in the world of London bookselling.”