Share the Moon

by Sharon Struth

  Darcy laughed. “Probably will end up being as anticlimactic as the vault unveiling, too. Word around the office is that Rob Peterson is a shoo-in.”

  Beryl shrugged. As chief financial officer, she ranked high enough on the scale to be considered as Saul’s replacement, too. Most expected someone with a sales or marketing background and many would argue that at the age of thirty-nine, she wasn’t experienced enough to oversee the company.

  Beryl glanced both ways and dropped her voice. “I hope he chooses someone from inside Global. An outsider will surely bring in some of his or her own upper level staff. I may get tossed out on the street with a pink slip.”

  A sick pit settled in her gut. She’d been with this company her whole career and had given up everything else to achieve success. Losing the job by being fired would be more than humiliating. It would leave her empty-handed in life.

  Darcy hoisted up the neckline of her strapless dress, her willowy frame without the meat to hold up the attire. “You shouldn’t worry. Anybody would be out of their mind to get rid of you.”

  “The entire executive board is worried. Saul promoted us to these jobs and was our boss. If his replacement comes from outside the company, nobody is safe.” Beryl tipped her head to the bar. “Come on. Let’s get those drinks.”

  As they walked, she kept an eye open for the firm president, Saul Weinstein. Mentor. Friend. Ten years ago, he’d transferred her from the Boston office to be part of his management team. They were so much alike when it came to their work ethics and beliefs, they could nearly read each other’s minds with a glance across the boardroom table. The faith he put in her abilities from the start had given her the incentive to work long, hard hours.

  They ordered two glasses of Moscato and joined Darcy’s husband, Will, who stood talking to a few people from Darcy’s department. Saul appeared at the entrance, his full head of white hair like a beacon in any crowded room. He turned halfway, his mouth moving as he spoke with someone still outside the doorway. Beryl’s heartbeat quickened, this anticipation more nerve-racking than she realized.

  She elbowed Darcy. “Saul’s here.”

  Their group went silent, all eyes on the firm president. He turned around and came into the room, someone directly behind him. At the same time, a small group came through the other set of double doors, swallowing both Saul and the person she suspected was her new boss into the crowd.

  “Did you see who he’s with?” Beryl whispered to Darcy, who stood several inches taller.

  She shook her head.

  Saul appeared at a podium set up at the temple’s front facade. The hum of voices subsided and people started to clap. Beryl put down her drink to join the applause.

  Saul cleared his throat into the microphone. “Welcome to this year’s Christmas gala. I hope the food and wine makes up for such humble surroundings.” Chuckles rumbled through the crowd. “Rather than torture you all with further guessing, I do plan to announce my successor tonight.” He scanned the room, a subdued expression appearing on his age-lined face. “I almost can’t believe the company I started forty years ago has grown to such heights. So many memories. The day we went public. The day we hit four thousand employees, operating in twenty countries across the globe.” He raised a brow and motioned with his hand to his wife, who Beryl knew quite well. “And yet, my wife informs me that it’s time I moved on. In three days, she’s putting me on a plane to take that grand European trip I never had time for.”

  The crowd laughed. Beryl perched on the tips of her sling-back pumps and tried to catch an early glimpse of whoever had followed Saul inside. Nothing stood out but familiar faces. She returned to her normal stance as a knot twisted tight in her stomach.

  “In selecting my replacement, I asked myself one question. Who could take the top-notch crew I have here now and guide Global to great heights in the future? Although we possess huge talent within our fine organization, I wanted a fresh take on the business and decided to search outside of our four walls.”

  Disappointment rushed through Beryl. Time to update her resume, just in case.

  “So, without further ado, I’d like you to welcome the new president of Global Business Solutions—believe it or not a former employee of our firm—Erik Lindholm.”

  Beryl’s body numbed. Loud applause faded in the background as his name pounded inside her skull. It couldn’t be. It wasn’t possible.

  Erik stepped up to the platform and shook Saul’s hand. Beryl blinked, thinking this might be a bad dream, a hallucination, or one too many trips to the bar.

  Darcy touched Beryl’s arm, ruling out the first two. “A former employee?”

  Beryl was too stunned to speak or even nod. Erik’s dirty-blond hair was still parted on the side and worn short, with thick wisps sweeping his high forehead. He smiled, making the dimpled cleft in his chin deepen and softening the rugged angles of his sculpted face. Old emotions bubbled to the surface. Love. Happiness. Anger.

  Erik shook hands with employees seated near the podium, his smile still as confident as it had been years ago. Last she’d heard, Erik worked in Chicago and teetered at the top of the corporate ladder with The Holder Group, a competitor of Global’s who could never quite beat her firm’s status as number one in the industry. The same firm Erik had gone to after they split up nearly fourteen years ago.

  “Did you ever hear of this guy before?” Darcy whispered in Beryl’s ear.

  Beryl nodded, her gaze stuck on the man she’d almost married.

  * * * *

  “Good to see you, Samir. You look great. Haven’t changed a bit since college.” Erik embraced the hand of Global’s senior VP and general counsel. Only once since college had they spoken. Erik had needed advice on a company visit to Pakistan, the country where Samir’s parents were born.

  Samir’s black eyebrows lifted and quickly dropped with a grin. “Ah, my friend. I see you’re still well versed in the fine art of flattery. If I recall, it served you well around campus.”

  “Let’s not go there in front of Saul.” Erik tipped his head to the outgoing firm president. “He hired me based on my resume, but I’m not sure my college antics would’ve impressed him.”

  Saul laughed. “I may be a old man, but I was once young at heart.”

  Samir introduced his wife and a conversation ensued about Saul’s retirement plans. Erik listened, but the chatter belied the enormity of his big night. He’d reached the pinnacle of his career.

  Fifteen years ago, Erik had let Global management know his frustrations that they weren’t moving him up the corporate ranks quickly enough. They had done nothing. After an interview with The Holder Group, he’d received an offer from their London office. The competitor of Global had loved his ambition and offered Erik a step up in his career. He’d grabbed the opportunity.

  He studied the Egyptian monument. The temple, built by Emperor Augustus around 15 B.C., was a perfect symbolic location to make this announcement, especially given Erik’s desire to return to Manhattan and rule the empire created by Saul. Running Global had always been his hope.

  Saul rested a hand on Erik’s shoulder. “I’d like you to meet Beryl Foster. She’s one of the best CFO’s out there.”

  Beryl. Erik’s gut knotted. “Great. Is she around?”

  “She couldn’t have gone far. We’ll be sitting for dinner soon and I believe she’s at our table.”

  Quick. Shrewd. Understated beauty. He’d never seen anybody recite a tax law with such ease, juggle figures in her head with rapid-fire results, or confidently list the pros and cons for any argument without batting an eye. The way she’d done the day he’d been offered a job with The Holder Group. The day their wedding date hung on the brink.

  Erik looked at Saul. “Can you excuse me a minute?”

  “Sure.”

  Erik wove his way to the men’s room, wading through the employees watching his every move. Good. Let them watch. Saul’s were big shoes to fill. Their
faces registered curiosity, doubt, maybe a little excitement. At the moment, there was only one face Erik was actually interested in seeing, and by the time he reached the men’s room door, he hadn’t.

  They’d be sitting together at dinner, according to Saul. He had hoped for an air-clearing moment before then. Erik’s chest tightened, the way it had after getting Saul’s offer. Beryl had been the first thing he thought about when he got the call, but he’d accepted, afraid he might say no if he saw she was still there. Seeing her face on the firm website afterward had caught him off guard. Poised and beautiful, she’d stared back at him like a challenge, reminded him of their last, ill-fated conversation.

  As he came out of the men’s room, the ladies’ room door beside it whooshed open.

  “Have a great trip. I want details when you get back.”

  Pleasant, certain, her voice was just as he remembered. His heart pumped faster.

  “Hello, Beryl.”

  She looked up. Their gazes collided, the sparkling green of her eyes as instantly familiar as the sound of her voice.

  “Oh. Erik.” Her creamy cheeks blushed pink. Dark chestnut waves caressed her slender neck. She still possessed a pureness that one might easily mistake for naiveté, yet he knew she could hold her own against anyone.

  She pushed the bangs from her forehead as she approached, extending her hand like the professional businesswoman she had become. “Congratulations are in order.”

  “Thank you.” He shook her hand. Cool as her approach, impersonal, but fitting after everything they’d once shared. “I was surprised to see you’re still with the firm, but happy you’ve gotten everything you set out to achieve.”

  “I did.” Beryl straightened her shoulders. Behind her eyes, thoughts ran deep.

  He shifted his weight, but it did little to balance his skewed confidence. “Your dad and sister, they’re well?”

  “My sister moved down south.” The composure of her expression withered. “Pop passed away last year.”

  “Oh, God. I’m so sorry.” Chet Foster, a great guy. Beryl had adored him, called him her rock since losing her mom as a teenager. Erik fought the urge to hug her, inappropriate not only in his new role, but also after how things had ended. “Was he sick?”

  “Cancer.” Beryl’s stoic frame sagged. “I spent his last week with him, up at the lake.”

  She’d soon suffer another blow. Erik’s changes for the company included a few replacements of top management. One person he planned to steal from The Holder Group was Matthew Quinn, the current chief financial officer and VP of finance. He’d all but promised Matt the job, a promise made before he’d realized Beryl currently held the position. Only at this moment, he was almost sorry he—

  “Erik?”

  He snapped his attention to the sound of her voice. “I’m sorry. What?”

  “How’s your family?”

  “Everyone is fine.” He couldn’t tell her how annoyed they’d been with him all those years ago, when he took the job over a life with Beryl. “Thank you for asking.”

  “Please tell them I said hello. Especially your mom.”

  Sadness in her tone reminded him how she’d once said being with his mother was like having hers back. “I will. They’ll be glad to know you’re doing so well.”

  She blinked, pressed her lips tight. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to get back inside. Congratulations again. I look forward to working together.” She started to leave, but stopped. “Do me a favor. I’m pretty sure nobody here knows about us. I’d like to keep our old relationship under wraps, if at all possible. I reached this position by working hard, without screwing a single man in power to get here. I’d hate to have rumors start flying now.”

  The unexpected comment caught him by surprise. After a moment, he snapped out of his stupor. “Sure. I understand.”

  “Good.” She walked away, leaving him slightly tussled on the inside.

  He held his head high but couldn’t move, his feet suddenly heavy as cinder blocks. Nothing about being near her again was going to be easy.

  Keep reading for a special sneak peek of the second Blue Moon Lake novel:

  HARVEST MOON

  Getting past the librarian’s guard…

  Trent Jamieson isn’t one for virtual romance, but there’s something about the intriguing woman he meets on the Internet he can’t resist. Then the small town bachelor discovers the mystery woman who shares her secrets with him online is the laced-up librarian in his self-defense class! Veronica Sussingham may just be his toughest student yet. Because how can he show the vulnerable beauty that some men are worth letting your guard down for?

  Veronica returned to her hometown seeking shelter for her shattered spirit. The last thing she needs is a blue-eyed charmer who wants to show her how to live—and love—again. Then she discovers Trent is not just another admirer, but a man who knows her deepest secrets. Now Veronica must choose between running from her past—or finding future happiness with the kind of man she swore she’d never fall for….

  A Lyrical e-book on sale December 2015.

  Learn more about Sharon at http://www.kensingtonbooks.com/author.aspx/31604

  Chapter 1

  Three things shine before the world and cannot be hidden. They are the moon, the sun, and the truth…-Buddha

  If Veronica Sussingham believed in signs—which she didn’t—this was the second one today suggesting she crawl back under the covers and avoid the world. She stood at the doorway and stared at the bed, too stunned to speak.

  She drew in a calming breath. “Come on, Boomer. Can’t you ever give me a break?”

  The two-year-old Newfoundland lifted his eyes while his full tail swished against the patterned quilt. He continued to chew the near-shredded tag dangling off Veronica’s brand new silk blouse. The expensive fabric bunched like a ball in his large black paws, and the same slobbery drool resting on his neck also soaked the blouse. Last week’s half-eaten electric bill and torn-to-shreds Sunday news was proof the dog had a paper fetish. But a clothing tag?

  She marched closer, attempting a stern expression.

  Chomp. Chomp. Chomp. He avoided her gaze. If she didn’t know better, she’d swear she spotted a grin on his snout.

  “Drop it.”

  Boomer released the tattered tag, and it fell on her bed. At least the training they’d taken last year wasn’t a total waste. He hopped down with a thud and headed for the door, the nails of his large paws clicking on the hardwood floors.

  She tossed the filthy shirt near the hamper, washed the slobber off her hands in the bathroom sink, then went to her closet to pick a new outfit. It would take more than an early morning broken hot water heater and ruined blouse to keep her from the annual librarian luncheon in Hartford.

  She flipped through dresses, shirts, and slacks lined up in neatly separated groups, then arranged by color. A pretty red wraparound dress with capped sleeves caught her eye, one she hadn’t worn since the spring.

  She shrugged off her terrycloth robe, slipped the garment over her head, and tied the side. Stepping to her dresser, she twirled her necklace carousel to her five strands of pearls, in varying gem size and length. Since receiving her first pearl necklace as a gift on her eighteenth birthday, a strand always draped her neck.

  She lifted the graduated arrangement and slipped it on. The smooth beads rested against her collarbone, their touch in the familiar place always a source of comfort. She took a brush to her loose curls, dotted on some soft pink lipstick, and slipped into her black, open-toed pumps.

  With some time until she needed to head into Hartford, she went into the living room, settled in front of her roll top desk, and logged into her computer. A quick perusal of e-mail showed mostly retailers, which she bypassed, in search of a reply from Ry. Nothing. She swept aside her disappointment and deleted the unwanted spam, but stopped when she hit an online invitation from PartyTime.com, a service she’d used last time she hoste
d a Christmas gathering at her place.

  The subject read, “Gail and Eli’s End of Summer Bash.” Last year’s party had been fun, the annual event one of the few times she’d see her graduate school friends. She opened the invite, double-checked the date on her calendar, then responded yes. Fond memories of her friends brought a smile to her face. A section listed all invited guests, so Veronica figured she’d see who else might be coming.

  Sometimes Veronica missed a good old-fashioned paper invite, but the Internet had changed the world. Her friendship with Ry was living proof.

  Combing through the list, she noted how half the guests had profiles set up with personalized photographs, including hers—a photo holding Boomer when she first got him. Her gaze swept the faces and names, looking for her closest friends. She skipped past an unfamiliar couple, but then backtracked to take a closer peek. The man in the photo stared back. Panic rushed through her limbs.

  For twenty years, Veronica hadn’t seen Gary Tishman’s face, but his image still haunted her. The clang of a silent alarm screamed inside her head, begged her to close the computer. Only she couldn’t move or figure out why he was on the invited guest list.

  She scrutinized the face of the man who’d changed her life. Twenty years had added a few pounds, his handsome face slightly fuller. A soft sparkle rested in his eyes, set off by a warm smile. Veronica grimaced, recalling how it was the same bait he’d used to lure her to his side, a mask worn to hide the real monster lurking inside.

  The woman at his side was her old friend Carin Cummings, who now wore her honey blond hair in a blunt cut, but otherwise still looked the same. Next to the photo, the name read “Carin Cummings-Tishman.” After grad school, Carin had moved west and rarely kept in touch with their posse of friends. She was now married to Gary? It didn’t make sense. They hadn’t mixed in similar circles back in college, so how did they meet?