Yes! This was it. He quickly totted up the percentages in his mind.
‘More than nice.’ He was on his feet, his hand on hers where she held the precious paper. ‘It means my grandfather only held seventy-five per cent of the company. And that means my father doesn’t have a two-thirds majority. We’re equal partners. Do you know what else, Ellie Scott? It means I can take him on and I can win. Thanks to my lovely Great-Aunt Demelza.’
‘It does?’ She was staring up at him, smiling in response, her eyes enormous, her cheeks flushed.
The breath whooshed from his chest as if he had been hit with a football at top speed. How did she do it? How did that elusive smile light her up, turn the pointed chin, big eyes and hollow cheeks into beauty?
And why didn’t she smile more often?
Max took a deep breath, curling his fingers into his palms. All he wanted to do was touch her, trace the curve of her cheek, run a finger along the fullness of her bottom lip and tangle his hands in the thick length of hair. But he knew instinctively, with every bone in his body, that his touch would be unwelcome. There was a ‘Keep Out’ sign erected very firmly around Ellie. Trespassers were most certainly not tolerated.
She would have to invite him in. And he sensed that invitations were very rarely issued, if at all.
It was for the best. A girl like Ellie didn’t know how to play. She would need wooing and loving and protecting. All the things he had no interest in.
She stepped back, leaving the precious paper in his hands. ‘You and your father are disagreeing?’
That was one way of putting it.
Max walked over to the window and stared out at the breathtaking view. The Round House was at the very top of the cliff. Just a few metres of garden seemed to separate the house from the sea stretching out to the horizon beyond.
‘My grandfather was a visionary. He was an early adopter of technology, but managed to avoid the dotcom crisis, and we’ve weathered every financial crisis there’s been. My father was always in his shadow, I guess. But since Grandfather died he’s seemed determined to put his stamp on the company. He thinks anything new is worth investing in, and he’s diversifying the brand into everything from jobs to dating. If there’s an app for it he wants it.’
Ellie stepped forward and stood next to him, so close they were almost touching. Almost. ‘Most media outlets have job sites and dating adverts...’
‘Supported by their main publications, they can be useful income streams, yes.’ He ran a hand through his hair. ‘But he’s not investing in the news sites at all. He’s got rid of some of our most experienced journalists and is allowing bloggers and the commenting public to provide most of the content. There’s a place for that, sure, but not at the expense of your main news. I came here to find a way to wrestle control of the company away from him. This—’ he brandished the paper ‘—this means we either come to a consensus or every decision goes to the board. It’s not ideal, but it’s a helluva lot better than the current situation.’
‘It sounds like your grandfather and your great-aunt all over again.’
He flinched at her gentle words. Was she right? Was another massive chasm about to open up in the family?
‘It’s not just work.’ He was justifying his actions as much to himself as he was to Ellie. ‘His personal life is a mess too. He’s left my mother for my old PA, and just to twist the cliché has announced he wants a divorce.’
He couldn’t talk about the pregnancy. Not yet.
‘My mother is a mess, he is completely unrepentant, and DL Media is fragmenting. I have a lot of work to do.’
‘Max, they’re grown-ups. Isn’t their marriage their problem? Getting sucked in too far never ends well.’ There was a bitter certainty in her voice.
Max laughed, the anger in the sound startling him. ‘Oh, their marriage is their problem. I’m not getting involved. Not any more. But I have to look after DL, whatever it takes. My mother is out for blood. She wants half the company. Can you imagine? The lawyers’ fees alone could drag us down.’
‘What would happen if you just walked away? They’d have to fix it then, wouldn’t they?’
He shook his head. ‘It’s not so much them as the company. It’s my responsibility, Ellie. I started in the distribution centre when I was fifteen. I was filing and photocopying at sixteen, writing up press releases at eighteen. I interned every year I was at Yale, and when I graduated I went straight into the New Media department. It’s all I’ve ever known and I won’t let them tear it apart.’
‘I always wanted to work in publishing.’ There was a longing in her voice. ‘But I didn’t go to university.’
‘Why not?’ It was a relief to change the subject, to focus on something else.
‘My mother took a long time to get over my father’s death. It was hard to leave her. And when she remarried I was...’ She swallowed, her already pale cheeks whitening. ‘I was engaged.’
‘You were engaged?’ He turned to look at her, shocked by her revelation. She was very pale. Even her lips were almost white.
‘Yes. I was young and foolish and had no judgement.’
She smiled at him but he wasn’t fooled. This smile didn’t light up her face, didn’t illuminate her beauty. It was only skin-deep, false.
The urge to protect her swept up, taking him completely by surprise. Somehow he knew, completely and utterly, that Ellie Scott had been badly hurt and that the scars were still not fully healed. Another reason to keep well away.
‘It’s not too late.’
‘I’m doing a degree now, in the evenings. And at least I’m surrounded by books. It’s not all bad. But what would you do if you weren’t part of DL? If you weren’t one of those Lovedays?’
But he was one of ‘those’ Lovedays. His identity was burnt into him like a brand. He couldn’t escape his family history and nor did he want to.
‘All I ever wanted was to make my grandfather proud and take DL to the next level.’ It didn’t sound like much, but it was everything. ‘I can’t let my father stop that.’
‘Can’t you work with him? Compromise?’
‘He won’t let me in, Ellie. I’ve tried, goodness knows. He wants me to knuckle down and accept him as head of the family. To tamely agree with every decision he makes, to meet the woman he’s left my mother for and make her part of my family. We can’t even be in the same room right now.’
‘Then it’s a good thing you’re on the other side of the Atlantic.’
Max caught sight of his reflection in the mirror on the wall opposite, jaw set, eyes hard. He barely recognised himself.
‘Maybe.’ He made an effort to shake off the anger coiling around his soul like a malevolent snake. ‘I need to get this faxed over to the company lawyers before I go to London. I can plan my next move from there. I’ll get someone in to clear the rest of the house before I instruct the solictors to sell.’
‘You’re not thinking of keeping the house?’ Disappointment flickered over her face. ‘Your Great-Aunt Demelza would have wanted you to.’
‘My life’s in Connecticut. When I’m in the UK I’m London-based. I have no use for it.’
Looking around, he felt a hint of regret. His family’s history was soaked into the rounded walls. His eyes fell on a gilt-edged card as he spoke. It looked familiar and, curious, he picked it up.
‘What’s this?’
Ellie flushed and reached for it. Max held it a little longer, trying to read the curled writing, until with a pull she tugged it out of his fingers. ‘Oh, that’s mine. It must have fallen out of my bag. It’s just some industry black tie thing. I’ve been nominated for Independent Bookseller of the Year. Nonsense, really, but quite sweet.’
‘Are you going?’
‘Oh, no. It’s in London. The season starts this week. I couldn’t leave t
he shop. Besides, I wouldn’t know anyone.’
Max reached over and plucked the card out of her hand. Why was it striking a chord?
‘DL have a table.’
That was it. The London office had asked him to attend and it would be the perfect opportunity for him to quell some of the rumours about the company’s viability.
‘You could come with me. That way you wouldn’t be going alone.’
Her face turned even redder. ‘That’s very kind of you...’
‘Not at all. I hate these things. It would be more bearable if I was with someone I knew. Especially if that someone was up for an award.’
‘There’s still the shop...’
‘Mrs Trelawney is quite capable, surely? Look, Ellie, I was planning on going anyway. It would make me very happy if you came with me.’
Max didn’t know why it mattered. She was a grown woman...she could do as she pleased. But although black tie dinners and awards ceremonies were a dime a dozen to him, he sensed they didn’t really figure in Ellie’s life. Besides, his great-aunt had loved Ellie, cared for her. It would be fitting thanks if he took her under his wing a little.
In fact he was being very altruistic.
‘I appreciate the thought...’
‘I’m not doing this to be kind,’ he reassured her. ‘My motives are completely selfish.’
‘I really wasn’t planning on going.’
‘If we are going to be setting up a literary festival then this is the best thing you can do. I’ll introduce you to some of the best publicists in the business. And who knows, Ellie? We might even have fun while we’re there.’
CHAPTER FIVE
ELLIE DIDN’T ACTUALLY remember agreeing to any of this.
Not to going to the awards ceremony and certainly not to spending two nights in London with someone she barely knew.
She’d spent far too long allowing her wishes to be overridden, doing things she didn’t want to in order to placate someone else: three years indulging her mother’s grief, three years trying to turn herself into the perfect wife for Simon. Both had been impossible tasks.
She’d sworn she’d never allow herself to be pushed out of her comfort zone. Not ever again.
So why was she now sitting in the passenger seat of Max Loveday’s hire car, watching the miles disappear as London grew ever closer?
The thing was, she couldn’t deny a certain fizz in her veins, a delicious anticipation. It was mixed with fear and dread, yes, but it was anticipation nonetheless.
After three years of living very much within her comfort zone she was ready to be stretched, just a little. And if she must be stretched then a champagne reception seemed like a reasonable place to start. It wasn’t as if she was going to win the award. All she had to do was smile and applaud the winner.
And start to make contacts for the festival. That was a little more daunting. But Max must know the right people. He could take care of that, surely?
‘Penny for them?’
‘I’m sorry?’
‘For your thoughts. You’ve been pretty quiet the whole journey. I can hear the wheels turning.’
Ellie sank back in the admittedly plush seat and stared out at the countryside. The harsh beauty of the Cornish moors had given way first to rolling hills and now to pastoral scenes fit for a movie. Sheep grazed in fields dotted by small lines of trees; copses dominated the skyline in the distance. At any moment she expected to pass through idyllic villages full of thatched cottages and maypoles.
Ellie bit her lip. It was odd, this new companionship. She’d spent more time in the last few days with Max Loveday than she had with any other person in the entire last three years—other than Demelza Loveday, of course. That must be why, despite his complete and utter lack of suitability, she found herself wanting to confide in him.
Besides, a little voice whispered, he had confided in her. She’d seen a crack in his façade—and she’d liked what she’d seen. Someone who wasn’t quite so certain of his place in the world. Someone with questions. He was ruthless, sure, and ready to sacrifice his father if need be—not for personal gain, but because he genuinely believed it would be for the best. That took a lot of strength.
‘This is the first time I’ve left Trengarth in three years.’
He darted a look over at her. ‘Seriously?’
Ellie nodded.
Max let out a low whistle. ‘What are you? Twenty-five? Trengarth is pretty, but that’s kinda young to be burying yourself away.’
‘I didn’t even realise that was what I was doing. I feel...’ She hesitated, searching for the right word, not wanting to reveal too much. ‘Safe there.’
‘You haven’t even visited your mom?’
There was a particular ache that squeezed Ellie’s chest whenever she thought about her mother: a toxic mixture of hurt and regret and a deep sense of loss.
‘She’s so busy, and she and my stepfather travel a great deal. Not to Cornwall, though,’ she couldn’t help adding, wincing at the acidity in her voice. ‘But it’s good to get away. Even for a couple of days. When we drove out of the village I felt as if I was leaving a cage—a little scared, but free.’
Whoa! That was far too revealing. She peeped over at Max, but his face was smoothly bland.
‘Sometimes we need the perspective we get just by being in a new place.’
‘I think maybe this festival is what I need. Perhaps I have got a little...’ She paused, searching for the right word. ‘Comfortable. After all, I host signings and launches, book clubs and children’s activities. It’s just a case of combining them all.’
‘You’ll be great.’
Would she? It was so long since she’d struck out, dared to dream of anything but safety, a bolthole of her own.
That was what Simon had taken from her. Not just her confidence and her self-esteem but also her time. Three years with him. Three years recovering from him. Time she could never get back.
Maybe all this was a sign. Max, the bequest, the award nomination. A big neon sign, telling her she needed to stop being afraid. That she had to go out there and live.
‘Once I thought I’d live in London. That I’d have a flat, go to plays in the evenings, wander around exhibitions at lunchtime. Sometimes I feel like I skipped a stage in my life. Headed right for settling down and forgot to have the fun bit first.’
Ellie risked a look over at Max.
His face was bleak. ‘You and me both.’
The traffic thickened as they got closer to London, the green fields giving way to buildings and warehouses.
‘Why?’
She started, the one-word question rousing her from her thoughts. ‘Why what?’
‘Why did you hide away?’
His words hit her with an almost physical force, winding her so that for one never-ending moment she was breathless. Why? Because she had allowed herself to be used and manipulated for so long that she hadn’t known who she was any more. But how could she say those words out loud even to herself—let alone to the confident, successful man beside her?
He might understand a little how she had been trapped by her mother’s need and grief, forced to grow up too soon, to make sure that bills were paid and food was on the table and that somehow the half of her family that was left survived. Yes, he would understand that.
But would he understand her later weakness—or despise her for it? Heaven knew she despised herself. Max Loveday had made it quite clear that he thought love was a lie, an emotional trap. What would he think of a lonely girl so desperate for affection and for someone to take care of her that she’d fallen prey to a controlling relationship, allowed her soul to be stripped bare until she had no idea who she was, what she wanted?
How could he understand it when she didn’t understand it
herself? It was her shame, her burden.
‘I don’t want to talk about Trengarth. I haven’t been to London for ages. What shall we do there?’
He shot her an amused smile. ‘Work, go to a party...the usual.’
She seized on the statement, glad of the change of topic. ‘You’ve been in Cornwall for four days and in that time you’ve spent half the day on paperwork and the rest of the day and evening working. You make noises about sailing and surfing, but you haven’t left the house long enough to do either.’
Irritation scratched through his voice. ‘This isn’t a holiday, Ellie.’
‘No,’ she said sweetly. ‘It is the weekend, though. And as you have somehow talked me into a few days away I, for one, am planning to do some sightseeing. I’ll take photos for you, shall I?’
‘Okay.’
‘Okay to photos?’
He sighed. ‘No. Okay to the rest of the weekend off. You’re right. I’m nearly halfway through this trip and I haven’t stopped. We should have fun in London. Let’s be tourists. For today at least.’
We? A warmth stole over her. Ellie had spent so long keeping people at arm’s length that although she had plenty of cordial acquaintances she wasn’t at the top of very many people’s ‘going out’ lists.
But Max Loveday wanted to go out and have fun. With her.
‘Be tourists?’ she echoed. ‘Like the Houses of Parliament and Buckingham Palace?’
‘Like all the big sights. No work and no cares this afternoon or this evening, Heck. I might even take tomorrow off too, before we have to dress up for this award nonsense. But for today we forget about bequests and festivals and DL Media. We’re just two people out and about. Just two people in the city. What do you think?’
What did she think? He wanted to spend time with her, he wanted to know what her opinion was, he wanted just to hang out. With her. To have a day of carefree, irresponsible, forget-your-worries fun.
When had Ellie ever had a day like that? Goodness, she was pathetic. Max was right. Didn’t she deserve a day out of time?
A Will, A Wish...A Proposal (Contemporary Romance) Page 6
